Читать книгу Prognosis: Romance - GINA WILKINS - Страница 10

If James heard any suspicion in her question, it didn’t show in his easy smile. “I’m here to buy a gift for a friend’s daughter. Maybe you could help me choose something? To be honest, I’m clueless when it comes to that sort of thing.”

She eyed him with a frown. Was he really here only to buy a gift? He had just happened to come to the store where she worked for the purchase? She was pretty sure he’d heard the name of the store at the picnic. Had he come here today because she might be here, or was that speculation just conceit on her part?

The store manager, Bill Travis, walked by just in time to hear James’s comment. He smiled at the potential customer, then glanced at Shannon as if wondering what was taking her so long to reply. “She’ll be glad to help you, sir. Don’t hesitate to ask Shannon for any assistance you need.”

James nodded at the passing manager. “Thanks.”

Bill shot another look at Shannon, then continued on toward the back of the store where the offices and storage rooms were located.

Switching to the briskly professional tone she used with all the store’s customers, Shannon gave James a bright smile. “I’d be delighted to assist you. How old is your friend’s daughter?”

“Alexis is turning nine in a couple of weeks. What sort of thing do nine-year-old girls like?”

The girl’s name, along with her age, made a lightbulb turn on in Shannon’s head. “This girl’s last name wouldn’t be Hayes, would it?”

He lifted his dark eyebrows in surprise. “Why, yes. Alexis Hayes. How did you know?”

She sighed, uncertain herself how she’d put those particular dots together so quickly. “Her mother called me this morning to handle the birthday party arrangements. She said she’d been given my name by a friend. That would be you, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. Her husband, my friend and classmate, Connor, mentioned that Mia was really snowed under with her grad-school work, teaching duties and their daughter’s activities. He can’t help her much right now because he’s on a difficult rotation. When he said they were trying to find time to arrange a birthday party for Alexis, I suggested they contact you. Mia liked the idea of having someone else do all the work and planning for once.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about acquiring the job through James. It was her nature as the often patronizingly-indulged youngest sibling to immediately resist whenever it seemed that someone was offering her a handout, as if she were some charity case who needed assistance handling her own affairs. Her prickly independence, as Philip had referred to it, had been a definite sore spot between them.

But then she told herself she should be happy for any booking, no matter how it had come about, and chided herself for being unreasonable. Hadn’t she been grateful earlier for the word-of-mouth business? Before she’d learned from whose mouth the advice had issued? “Thank you. I appreciate the referral. I’ll do a good job for your friend.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t have recommended you if I’d thought otherwise.”

There it was again. That faint, somewhat elusive tilt of his lips that made her heart flutter foolishly and her own mouth tingle as if in wistful anticipation.

Turning brusquely toward the shelves of dolls and accessories, she spoke in a deliberately businesslike manner. “These things are probably too young for a nine-year-old. How well do you know Alexis?”

“I’ve known her since she was six, but that doesn’t mean I know what sort of things she likes,” he admitted. “She’s a cute kid. Smart. Polite. Active. That’s about the sum of what I can tell you.”

“Her mother said she likes dance and soccer and the color purple.”

“Sounds like her. You get any ideas for gifts out of that?”

“She also likes handcrafts.” She led him to another aisle filled with handcraft kits. “These are designed for children her age.”

James studied rows of kits for making stuffed toys and jewelry and sun catchers and hair accessories. Nothing seemed to interest him much. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, let’s look at this section,” she said, stepping around him. Their arms brushed as she did so and she was annoyed that her pulse rate stuttered in response to the contact. Focusing fiercely on the job at hand, she pointed out several rows of art supplies. “Does she like to draw or paint?”

“Actually, I have seen several pictures she drew displayed on the fridge when I’ve studied at their house,” he replied thoughtfully. “She’s pretty good, for a kid.”

“Maybe a box of pastels,” she suggested, picking up a small but nice set. He hadn’t said what he wanted to spend, but she figured that was a safe guess.

James examined the pastels she handed him, but his attention was quickly drawn to a larger art-supplies set packaged in a wooden box with brass hinges on each side. The box opened from the center to reveal a rainbow selection of colored pencils, pastels, watercolors and tubes of oil paints, graphite drawing pencils, erasers, sharpeners and other supplies.

Recommended for ages eight and up, the set was rather pricey—more than Shannon would be able to spend on her nieces and nephews for birthday gifts. She noted that James didn’t even check the price.

“This looks nice. Maybe she’d like this.”

“Any kid who likes to draw and paint would love that set. Heck, I’d like it, myself,” she added with a grin.

She was being quite candid. She had loved drawing and painting since her own childhood, though she considered herself only marginally talented. Artistic enough to come in handy for her children’s parties, anyway. Unfortunately, this lovely set was out of her miscellaneous-expense budget.

“Okay, I’ll get this,” James announced in sudden decision. “If she doesn’t care for it, I assume she can exchange it for something else?”

“Of course she can. But I bet she’ll keep it.”

She remembered her impression that James came from a privileged background. He certainly didn’t fit the image of a financially struggling medical student. But she didn’t get the feeling he was flashing his money, either. He seemed to simply want to buy a gift his little friend would enjoy.

She wondered if he could possibly identify with the very tight budget she lived on while she tried to get her struggling business off the ground. Could someone who’d never had to count pennies understand what it was like to worry about paying next month’s rent?

“Where do I pay for this?” he asked, hefting the sizable box.

“At the front register on your way out.”

“Okay, thanks.” He gave her another small smile. “You’ve been very accommodating.”

She swallowed, forcefully holding her own smile in place. “I’m glad I could help. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He seemed to have been waiting for that very question. He replied without hesitation. “Yes. You can have dinner with me some night soon.”

It wasn’t totally a surprise, but she still blinked a couple of times before frowning at him. “I thought we’d already covered this subject. It’s nice of you to ask, but I’m going to have to decline.”

“Because we’re both too busy,” he said, quoting her excuse from before.

She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”

It was even true—if not the whole truth.

“There’s always time to eat a meal.”

He didn’t sound argumentative. Not even particularly determined to change her mind. He was simply stating a fact, she decided.

She answered in kind. “Well, yes, there’s always time for a meal. But—”

“But not with me.”

“It’s nothing personal.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, making it clear he didn’t buy that, either.

Sighing, she shook her head. “Okay, maybe it’s a little personal. You make me nervous, James.”

He looked startled, then chagrined. “I’m sorry. You needn’t worry about me bothering you again, Shannon. I’m really not…I just thought…well, never mind. I’ll just go pay for this now.”

Grimacing, she caught his arm when he would have hurried away. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

But he’d gone stiff in response to her thoughtless comment and she couldn’t begin to read his expression now. There was no evidence of his intriguing little half-smile when he drew away. “It’s okay. I understand. Thanks again for your help.”

“James—”

“Excuse me, miss, do you work here? I’m looking for that new Perky Pet that’s so popular.” The elderly customer glanced uncertainly from Shannon to James as if sensing she might have interrupted something more than a retail transaction.

James took advantage of the interruption to nod a goodbye to Shannon and disappear with his purchase.

Smoothing both her expression and the bright green vest that marked her as a store employee, Shannon focused on her new customer. “Yes, ma’am, we have a whole display devoted to Perky Pets. Follow me and I’ll show you the newest selections.”

She would mentally replay that clumsy interlude with James later, she predicted with an inner wince. She was quite sure she would come up with exactly the right things to have said, now that it was too late to correct her tactless blunder.

James had spent the entire month of August doing an AI, or Acting Internship, in pediatrics. It had been a demanding rotation, with only four days off during the month—one of which he’d spent at the lake where he’d met Shannon and her family. Still, he’d enjoyed the experience, finding it instructive and mentally challenging, both requirements he craved in his daily activities.

As the name implied, his duties mimicked those of a true medical intern, giving him experience for whatever residency program he would enter after his graduation in May. Beginning work at seven each morning, he carried the same patient load as an intern, wrote daily progress notes on the patients, made presentations during daily rounds and even wrote orders, though his orders had to be cosigned by a resident. He carried a pager and had been on call a couple of times, sleeping in the call room as did the regular pediatric residents.

The evaluations of his performance had been glowing, as far as his medical skills. He was noted as punctual, conscientious, perceptive and professional. He had excelled in the first two years of medical school, comprehending the lectures and acing the tests so that he’d entered the third year at the top of the class. No real surprise; he had entered medical school having already obtained a Ph.D in microbiology, so he’d had a solid foundation for the material in the lectures.

And yet, when it came to his communication skills, the remarks were less enthusiastic. And that frustrated him to no end.

His conversational abilities were fine. Having grown up in an academic household, he could express himself clearly, easily explain even the most complicated terms and hold his own in a debate. Spending time with his study-group friends the past three years had taught him more about making small talk and lightening tense moments with a smile and a quip—things he hadn’t learned from his intensely serious parents.

While it had been made clear from the beginning that physicians had to maintain a professional distance, and while some specialties required less personal interaction than others, James was primarily interested in the pediatric infectious disease practice. With his strong academic and research background in microbiology, he believed he had much to offer to the field. Yet dealing with the emotions of patients and their worried parents was very much a part of that specialty and James wondered sometimes if he’d ever master that particular skill.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the ailing children. Obviously he did, or he wouldn’t even consider dedicating the rest of his life to curing them. Nor was he hardened to the emotional toll a child’s illness took on the rest of the family. He always felt as if he was saying the right things, behaving as the situation required—and yet he still kept getting those vaguely worded evaluations about how he needed to work on his communication skills.

He was growing increasingly frustrated with that situation. How was he to maintain a professional distance and still empathize with the patients? How did one learn to express the optimum mixture of competency and compassion? If only there were some formula to memorize or some protocol to learn, he’d have no problem, but this was an intuitive, indefinable quality he wasn’t sure he possessed.

Obviously, he’d been less than successful in communicating with Shannon Gambill, he thought glumly, making a note in a patient chart before completing his duties on the last Thursday of his Acting Internship. He’d thought he’d been friendly and pleasant, just persistent enough to make his interest clear. Shannon had seen his behavior differently.

You make me nervous, James.

He still winced when he remembered those words. Apparently he’d come on too strong or too…something. It had certainly never been his intention to make her uncomfortable.

He supposed he really was lousy at this communication thing.

“Hey, James, how’s it going?”

Looking up from the chart in response to the greeting, James smiled at the slightly rumpled, sandy-haired medical student approaching from the end of the hallway. “Hi, Ron. I’m doing well, how about you?”

His friend Ron Gibson was also completing an AI in pediatrics, though Ron was assigned to pediatric oncology and hematology, or pedi hem-onc in medical jargon. Twenty-eight-year-old Ron had become one of James’s two closest male friends since they’d joined the same five-person study group in the first semester of their freshman year of medical school. Charming, laid-back and affable, Ron had struggled a bit during the first two years of classwork and exams, but he excelled in clinical practice, becoming an instant favorite with the very sick children he wanted to spend his career treating.

Ron seemed to have no problem at all communicating, James thought a bit glumly as he dropped the patient chart into the wall-mounted holder outside the hospital room. “What are you doing on this wing?”

“Looking for you. Haley, Connor and I are meeting for dinner this evening. Connor’s at loose ends tonight because Mia and Alexis are doing something girly and he thought it would be a good time to catch up. Want to join us?”

James didn’t even have to think about it. “Sure. What time?”

Moving to the next room on his assigned patients’ list after Ron went back to his own duties, James drew a deep breath as he picked up the chart and flipped through it. He pasted on a smile before entering, trying to add a little of Ron’s natural warmth to the expression.

It came so easily to Ron—why did James have to work so hard at it, when all he wanted to do was help his patients?

The Italian restaurant where the group had decided to meet was surprisingly busy for a Thursday evening. Looking for his friends, James entered past a crowd waiting for tables in the lobby. He wasn’t in the greatest of moods after his tiring day. It didn’t help that this restaurant was on the same street as the toy store where Shannon worked—as if he had needed that reminder.

Still, he looked forward to visiting for a little while with Connor and Ron and Haley. It was so rare for them to get together now that they were all on such different schedules. He’d miss seeing Anne, the only remaining member of the original study group, but since Ron hadn’t mentioned her joining them, he assumed she’d had other obligations.

A slightly harried-looking hostess gave him a vague smile when he approached. “How many, sir?”

“Actually, I’m meeting some people here. I don’t know if they’re here yet… Oh, there they are.” Never shy about calling attention to himself, Ron stood at a table across the busy dining room, waving his arms to get James’s attention.

Even though it was still five minutes before the agreed-upon meeting time, James was the last to arrive. He took the chair next to Connor, across the table from Ron and Haley.

Thirty-four-year-old Connor Hayes was the senior member of the group, having taught and coached for a few years before entering med school. James remembered how tough that first semester had been for his friend. Only a couple of months into his training, Connor had become fully responsible for the then-six-year-old daughter whose existence had been a secret to him before that time. Had it not been for his friend Mia, now his wife of just over two years, who had stepped forward to help him with Alexis, Connor might well have had to drop out of medical school in his first year.

Which would have been a shame, James thought, because there was such a shortage of primary-care doctors, which was what Connor wanted to practice. Connor would be an excellent family practitioner.

James looked curiously around the full dining room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so busy here. Especially on a weeknight.”

Ron chuckled. “You don’t even know it’s half-price lasagna night, do you?”

“Is it?” James shrugged, now comprehending the restaurant’s popularity. “I guess that explains it. Maybe I’ve just never been here on a Thursday before.”

“Like you’d ever have to wait in line to save a few bucks on some pasta,” Ron joked.

“I appreciate a bargain as much as the next guy,” James assured him, taking no offense at the teasing. Ron joked with everyone. James had figured out long ago that it was never intended mean-spiritedly. Ron just liked laughing and encouraging people to laugh with him.

Like the others, James ordered the lasagna. He was well aware his friends were all on limited budgets as they completed medical school on student loans. He would’ve offered to pick up the check, but he’d tried that a couple of times early on and his friends had made it politely, but firmly, clear that they paid their own ways.

He’d always been very careful not to make an issue of his good fortune—after all, it wasn’t as if he’d earned the money himself. He just happened to have been born into a wealthy family, which was nothing more than the luck of the draw as far as he was concerned. He had long since realized how true it was that money couldn’t buy happiness. Or true friendship.

“Here’s to tomorrow, the last day of the current rotation,” Ron said, holding up his water glass. “One day closer to graduation.”

Laughing, they joined in the toast with sips of water.

They chatted about their experiences during the past month’s rotations, swapping amusing anecdotes and sharing tidbits they had learned. They were starting a new block the following week and that gave them something to discuss, as well. In addition, all of them would be spending time during the next few months doing away rotations in other states.

“I’m looking forward to my acting internship in Cincinnati in October,” Haley said, then added candidly, “even if I’m a little nervous about it. I’m sure they’ll do things differently than we do here.”

“They’ll love you there,” Ron assured her, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “How could they not?”

She smiled back at him a little wistfully. “It will be a long month away from you.”

“I’ll be in Lexington. Not that far from Cincinnati,” Ron replied with a shrug. “There’s a chance we can get together at least one weekend during the month.”

It would be the first time the newlyweds had been separated that long since they’d become engaged last December. Or maybe even before that, James mused, thinking of all the hours the study group had spent together during their first two years of school, before Haley and Ron had realized that the sparks they’d set off each other from the start had been due to more than temper.

James still shuddered to remember how close they’d come to losing Haley last December. He suspected Ron still had nightmares about the life-threatening injury Haley had sustained in a rare winter tornado that had brought down the ceiling of a diner where they had taken shelter, driving a piece of metal through Haley’s leg. She’d been airlifted to the trauma unit but because of blood loss, her condition had been dicey during the trip. Yet, with typical Haley optimism and determination, she had been back in rotations five weeks later, missing only one rotation she had been able to reschedule for fourth year, so that she would graduate with the rest of them.

Their wedding had been a small affair at the end of June, giving them only a week for a honeymoon. Neither had wanted an elaborate wedding—partially because of time constraints, but also because of finances. Neither of them came from an affluent family and both were attending medical school on student loans. They had married beneath a gazebo in a local park. James thought the simple ceremony had been as touching as any elaborate wedding he’d ever reluctantly attended.

“October’s going to be a tough month for Mia,” Connor commented as he sliced into the steaming pasta that had just been set in front of him. “With me in Chicago, she’ll be fully responsible for Alexis, in addition to her grad-school work and her teaching position.”

Connor’s guilt was evident to all of them. Typically, Haley was the first to offer encouragement. “They’ll be fine while you’re gone, Connor. Mia loves being with Alexis and vice versa. It isn’t as if Alexis is any trouble. She’s a good kid.”

From what James had observed, completing medical school while maintaining personal relationships was a tricky balancing act. Med school required total commitment, leaving little free time for family and friends, especially during those first two years of endless classes and studying. Fourth year wasn’t so bad, other than the highly recommended away rotations, but then would come residency programs. Everyone knew how many hours a medical resident spent at the hospitals.

James was aware of several marriages that had ended among his classmates during the past three years. But for his study-group friends, he was very optimistic that their romantic partnerships would endure.

Mia had been well prepared for what she was getting into when she’d married a single-father medical student. She had made it clear she considered the short-term sacrifices worth the effort to allow Connor to follow his dream, just as she was pursuing her own doctorate in education. Anne Easton had been through a rocky spell with her husband, Liam McCright, but that was due more to family issues than the demands of medical school. And Haley and Ron were certainly prepared to make the compromises necessary to be successful both in their careers and their relationship.

James had dated occasionally, but only casually. His record with relationships wasn’t particularly encouraging even without the demands of his career training to further complicate matters. Surreptitiously studying the smiles Haley and Ron exchanged, he was aware of a slight pang of…something. It felt almost like wistfulness, though he brushed that thought aside quickly. Apparently he was letting himself be affected by the rosy romances of his friends. He was the only single member left of this group, to whom he had become so close during the past three years.

Pulling his gaze from the happy couple, he glanced away from the table—only to have his glance intercepted by a pair of familiar green eyes.

No way, he thought, swallowing a groan. What were the odds that Shannon would show up here at this moment? Of course, the restaurant was only a few blocks from where she worked. And it was half-price lasagna night. But still, of all the restaurants in Little Rock…

This would probably give her even more reason to believe he was stalking her, he thought glumly. Even though he’d obviously arrived first, since she was just being led to a table along with another woman. And even though he was there with friends of his own.

She hesitated momentarily and he wondered if she was deciding whether to nod acknowledgment or pretend she hadn’t seen him. But then she stopped by his table and gave him a bright smile, motioning for her friend to continue on. “Hello, James.”