Читать книгу The Doctor Who Made Her Love Again - Susan Carlisle - Страница 8

WHAT WAS THIS guy doing? China Davis waited for the driver to park so she could take the space next to him. She watched appalled as the red-hot-off-the-line foreign sports car straddled the parking line.

Really? This person was going to take up two spaces in the far-too-small parking lot during morning rush hour?

Disgusted, China observed the driver do just as she’d feared. She would have to go around the building and park in the strip mall parking lot. She’d be lucky if she could juggle the donuts and coffee back to the car without spilling one or both all over her scrubs.

China glanced at the tag on the slick vehicle as she passed. Illinois. It was a little early for the summer crowd to be showing up. Still mid-May, she’d been looking forward to another few weeks of peace before the beach mob invaded.

Living in a small southern coastal town had its advantages but there was a downside also. Four out of the twelve months the locals had to contend with the influx of people. It didn’t help that here was only one main road into town, which had no choice but to end when it met the water of the gulf. From there the driver had to choose east or west along the beach.

Dolly’s Donuts was located on the main road. As the local morning hangout for the senior citizens, it was also the place in town for quality donuts. China’s mom had pointed out more than once to her that patience was a virtue. That might be so but China had promised hot donuts, and she didn’t like to disappoint.

As she hurried into Dolly’s, she mentally reviewed her order list. She glanced at her wrist watch. Yes, she was going to be late. Something that had never happened before. The line at the counter was four deep when she slipped into the tight glassed-in space that was Dolly’s customer area. The place still had the feel of a fifties-era coffee shop, with a few metal stools with orange seats facing a long narrow counter.

China studied the tall man in front of her with the wide shoulders. His dark hair was cut supershort, as if it had been shaved off and was beginning to grow out.

One customer down, three more to go.

Her attention returned to the man. He wore a salmon-color polo shirt that fit him loosely but contrasted nicely with his dark coloring.

She peeked around him to see what was happening with the next patron. The man gave her a pointed look and she straightened, finding her place in line again. Her father had used that same look to make her and her siblings fall in line.

Another down. China stepped forward. Thankfully the man ahead of her was next.

“What do you consider your best donut?” he asked.

Oh, no! He was going to get Roger started on donuts. She’d be lucky to make work by lunchtime.

Dolly’s husband stated in a voice of authority from behind the cash register, “We sell a lot of these.” He pointed to a tray of glazed. “But the best, I believe, are the double chocolate. We make a special …”

China zoned out as Roger went into a monologue on how the dough was prepared.

“I’ll get you some fresh ones from the back.”

“That sounds great,” the man in front of her said, as if he had all the time in the world. He probably did, but she sure didn’t. They were expecting her at the clinic and she needed to be on time. She worked hard not to receive complaints about her actions; she wanted no conflict.

When Roger ambled off, China leaned around the man and said in a low voice, “You’re not from around here or you’d know better. Don’t ever get Roger started. It goes on forever.”

The man pinned her with a dark look of disapproval that made her chest tighten as she shrank back into her place. He turned his back to her again. She wouldn’t be saying anything further to this guy.

In the brief moment she’d seen his face straight on she’d been able to tell he was thin. No tan line marked his temple from eye to ear where sunglasses might have been. In fact, he looked as if he could use a little time outside. Still, he had an interesting face. Not handsome in the Hollywood leading man sense of the words but more in an attentiongrabbing way.

“Here you go,” Roger said. “How about coffee?”

“Black,” the man said in one deep syllable.

Roger turned away and a full minute later slid the coffee container across the counter and quoted the man his total.

With relief, China moved closer, anticipating her turn. As she did so the man rotated and bumped against her.

“Excuse me,” he said, with an air of authority.

“I’m sorry,” China said, sliding to the side to dodge his coffee cup and moving well out of his way. She didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. It had been on impulse for her to have spoken to him to begin with.

He strolled by her before she turned to placed her order. While Roger bagged it she looked out the glass doors at the broad back of the exasperating man. He headed straight for the fancy sports car. I should have known.

The man was one of those who thought he was entitled because he was handsome and drove a fancy car!

Payton pulled the Mercedes into a parking space behind the clinic to face a wall of greenery that was overgrown. In his other life it would have been another row of cars in a spiraling parking garage. He looked at the 1940s wooden house that had been converted into a treatment center. The Golden Shores Walk-in Clinic in Mississippi. It was nothing like the state-of-the-art facility he was used to, nothing resembling the highly charged ER in Chicago where ambulance sirens blared every few minutes.

Truthfully, nothing about Golden Shores was like the place he’d called home his entire life. Here the buildings went no higher than three levels when he was used to skyscrapers and glittering glass. Two-lane roads were the norm. None of those eight-lane interstates with cars whizzing by. If he got behind a truck pulling a boat then he had to sit back for the ride. Everything moved slower and people spoke with a drawl. But this was what he wanted. The easier pace, the chance to enjoy life. A place to recover. He’d moved nine hundred miles from family and friends to find his own destiny. Cancer had taken its toll and now it was time for him to take control. Create the life he wanted.

He hadn’t counted on the cute but weird local who had been behind him at the bakery. She’d certainly not been tuned into the idea of a relaxed pace. Donuts weren’t his usual fare for breakfast so hopefully the chance of running into her again were slim to none.

Payton gathered his coffee and donuts and got out of the car. Unsure where to enter the building, he spied a sign stating it was the employees’ entrance and started toward it just as a compact car whipped into the lot. He pushed the door open and found himself at the end of a passage that ran the length of the house.

Closing the door behind him, he headed towards the voices coming from the front. The floor creaked in places as he walked down the wooden plank hall. No serviceable white-tile floors of a hospital E.R. in sight. Along the way he passed small rooms located on the left side. Those had to be the exam rooms. Directly across from the third one was a small room that looked like an office. Next to it and just before the waiting room was an alcove that appeared to be the lab area. Can you say go back in time thirty years?

The end of the hall opened into a waiting room with a waist-high counter to the right that served as the reception desk. Chairs that looked like hand-me-downs from the hospital business office were pushed up against the other walls.

All talking stopped as he came into view. Three pairs of eyes fixed on him as he said, “Hello. I’m Dr. Jenkins, I hope you’re expecting me.”

Suddenly each woman started speaking. Finally, the middle-aged one with the red spiky hair waved a hand and the other two stopped. “Hi, I’m Jean, the office manager. This is Robin.” She indicated the young woman to her left, who appeared to be fresh out of college and was smiling at him as if he were a candy bar. “She’s one of the nurses. And this …” she pointed to the middle-aged woman sitting at the desk “… is Doris. She handles Reception. We heard you were coming and we’re glad to have you.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to be here. So we handle everything with one nurse?”

“Well, no. I don’t know where China is but she should be here in a minute. It isn’t like her to be late.”

“Hey, someone give me a hand,” a voice that was vaguely familiar called from the door through which he’d just entered. “You wouldn’t believe the idiot in front of me at Dolly’s,” the disembodied voice said, dripping aggravation.

Down the hall came the woman who had been at the donut shop. Her attention was focused on maneuvering her way in the narrow space and she seemed to be struggling to keep several bakery bags and the purse that was slipping off her shoulder in place. Her chin-length, straight brown hair swung as she walked. She had a petite frame that made her almost seem fairy-like, especially dressed in hot pink scrubs.

The voice grew closer. “He took up two parking spaces. Asked Roger questions. Everyone in town knows not to ask Roger—” She came to an abrupt halt and her cocoa-colored eyes grew wide. “You!”

“Yes, I would be the idiot,” Payton said in a voice that held a hint of humor.

There were soft chuckles from the other women.

“Wh … What are you doing here?”

“I’m Dr. Jenkins. The new doctor.”

Eyes the same shade as the deepest part of the ocean twinkled at China.

Jean stepped forward. “I see you two have already met. Let me help with those.”

China handed her the sack of donuts and the paper tray with four coffees. “I said I’d bring donuts,” she murmured, unable to take her eyes off the doctor. How had she missed that shiny car in the parking lot? Because he’d made her late and she hadn’t been paying attention.

“I can see,” he said crisply. He looked at the coffee Jean held. “It looks like it was a good thing I stopped and got my own. You hadn’t counted on me.”

China’s face heated. No, she hadn’t. Why did he have to sound so gracious about it? To make her feel more guilty? The door behind him buzzed, preventing her from apologizing. She had never been so happy to see a patient.

“Dr. Jenkins, let me show you the office,” Jean said. “Robin will put the patient in exam one. When you’re ready we can get started for the day.”

The doctor gave China an unwavering look for a second before he followed Jean down the hall.

With relief, China sank into a chair next to Doris.

“Auspicious way to start the day,” Doris quipped.

“Only you could use a big word to sum up total and complete embarrassment.”

“Aw, honey. Such is life. Go do your job and all will be well.”

The buzzer announced another patient. China opened the bottom cabinet and stored her purse. “I guess I’d better get busy before I look worse. Donuts and coffee will have to wait.”

After Doris had taken the information from the mom of an eight-year-old boy, China led them to examine room two. There she took the child’s vitals and noted the mom’s recitation of his symptoms.

“The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes,” she said, before stepping out into the hall and placing the chart in a tray beside the door. As she turned to go to the front, she ran smack into a wall of male chest. A large hand cupped her shoulder to steady her.

“Are you going to be running into me all day?” a voice asked from above her head.

China stepped away and looked up at the insufferable doctor. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” China pulled the chart from the tray and handed it to him. “Your patient is waiting.”

His low chuckle followed her down the hall. She shook her head. Obviously making good first impressions wasn’t her thing.

China waited as Dr. Jenkins examined the boy and told the mom, “I’m going to have the nurse do a strep test and see what we’ve got. I’ll be back in after we know for sure.” He smiled reassuringly.

She followed him out of the room.

“It’s China, isn’t it?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Exam two needs a strep test. Where do I find those?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

China moved by him, taking special care not to make contact. She went into the lab and he followed. “They’re right here.” She opened the cabinet. “I’m, uh, sorry about calling you an idiot.”

He shrugged his shoulder. “It’s okay. Sometimes I am.”

Now he was being charming. She hadn’t expected that.

“Thanks. I’ll get this done.” China held up the preprepared swab with its plastic cap. “I’ll let you know the results right away.”

Doris came down the hall. “China, your mom’s on the phone.”

She wished she could make it clear to her mom not to call her during work hours. “Please tell her I will call her back.”

“I’ll take care of the test if you need to get that,” Dr. Jenkins offered.

“No, I’ll do it.”

China waited for the doctor to come out of the exam room where Robin had placed another patient. When he stepped out she said quietly, “The boy has strep.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

The rest of the morning passed in much the same way. At lunchtime China and Doris took their meals brought from home outside to the table. Robin and Jean would eat later.

“So how is Dr. Jenkins working out?” Doris asked.

“He seems to have a solid medical background, is great with the patients and thorough.”

“Well, that was certainly a clinical evaluation,” Doris remarked.

“I guess it was but I’ve not seen him do anything past strep and stomachache.”

“Jean said Administration at the hospital told her he’s from Chicago.”

“Why would he want to come down here and work?” China picked up her drink and took a sip.

When Robin joined them China gathered her leftover microwavable lunch. She had to be on duty while Robin ate.

Jean called from the door, “China, Dr. Jenkins needs you in exam two. We have a boy with an open wound.”

“On my way,” she responded. “This may be where I get to see what he can do,” China remarked to Doris as she hurried away.

China entered the exam room to find Dr. Jenkins with a lanky boy of about eleven years old sitting on the table and a mom perched on a chair with a troubled expression on her face.

“China, I’m going to need saline, a pan and a suture kit,” he said, without looking up from his patient.

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

He glanced up and gave her a quizzical look. A sharp tightness shot through her chest honed from childhood. What had she said wrong?

China left to gather the supplies. Returning, she found that Dr. Jenkins had turned the boy around so that he could place the pan on the pull-out footrest. There he would be able to pour the saline over the wound so it would run into the pan. China set the supplies on a small metal surgical stand that was stored in one corner then pulled it out to within easy reach of the doctor.

She opened the bottle of saline and handed it to him. He began to pour the liquid over the wound. When the boy winced Dr. Jenkins said, “I’m not from around here so tell me about this skimboarding you were doing.”

The kid relaxed noticeably.

“It’s done with a thin oval board. You throw it down and jump on it and ride it along the surf coming in on the beach.”

“That sounds like fun. Are you any good?”

By this time Dr. Jenkins was preparing the local anesthesia to deaden the wound and the boy was taking no notice. The doctor had skills.

“Pretty good.”

China had never learned to do anything like skimboarding, surfing or the usual water sports common for someone who lived near the water. Her father had become more controlling after her brother had left home at sixteen when given the ultimatum to straighten up or get out. China had learned early in life to do as she was told or she too might not have a place to live.

After her brother had left her father hadn’t wanted China or her sister hanging out with the crowd down at the beach or doing much that wasn’t under his watchful eye. Her mom, devastated by losing one child, had left most of the parenting to China’s father. He’d had to know where they were at all times. “Might get into trouble. Too many drugs and alcohol. That’s where your brother got into trouble,” he’d say. China soon found that it was easier to just go along with what her father had wanted, to do whatever had kept the peace.

For Kelsey it had been much harder. As soon as she’d finished high school she’d been out of the house. Sadly, China didn’t hear from her outside an occasional card or phone call. She missed Kelsey and wished they had a better relationship. Kelsey’s hadn’t spoken to their parents in years, which meant that her parents, especially her mom, clung to China.

“Do any tricks?” Dr. Jenkins asked, drawing China’s attention back to what was happening in the room.

“I can turn around,” the boy told Dr. Jenkins proudly.

“Wow. Do you think I’m too old to learn?” The doctor placed the needle at the edge of the boy’s laceration.

“Naw, heck anyone can do it,” the boy said, squaring his shoulders in pride.

“You think you could teach me?” Dr. Jenkins made the first stitch and the boy didn’t even flinch.

“Sure.”

“What do I need to know or buy?”

“It’s no big deal. All you need is a board. You can get those anywhere around here.”

“Do I need a special size?”

Was he really going to try skimboarding? That was for kids.

With a grin the boy said, “As far as I know, they only come in one size.”

“Any certain weight I need to get?”

The boy gave him a perplexed look. “Not that I know of.”

Dr. Jenkins tied off the last of the nine neat stitches he had placed in the boy’s leg.

China had to give him kudos for a quick, perfect suturing job and keeping the patient calm. He had a wonderful way with the boy. She’d seen none do better. Actually, he was the best she’d seen.

Dr. Jenkins pushed the stool back and stood. “Would you teach me?”

He sounded serious.

“Sure, why not?”

“Great. I’m going to let Nurse China bandage you up. I want you to come in one week from now to have the stitches out. Then we’ll make a date for you to show me how to skimboard.”

“Okay,” the boy said, with a huge grin.

He spoke to the mom. “Just see that it remains dry and clean. No swimming or skimboarding until the stitches are removed.”

China began opening the sterile bandage package.

From behind her Dr. Jenkins said, “Let’s not use that one. It needs a four-by-four.”

That tightness in her chest was back. Was this doctor going to be hard to please? “I’ll get one right away.” She left and returned with the required gauze.

Dr. Jenkins stuck out his hand. The boy hesitated a moment and then took it. The doctor smiled. “See you next week. I’m going to hunt for a board today. I’m already looking forward to the lesson.”

Who was this guy? He sounded like he’d moved here for the recreation instead of a job. He had an excellent bedside manner but would she be able to work with him?

Leaving the clinic for the day, China still had grocery shopping to contend with before she could go home. She hated it, hated it. The word wasn’t too strong. She made a point to be in and out as quick as possible. Some people didn’t like to clean bathrooms but shopping for food was her issue.

She maneuvered the buggy with the knocking wheels at a brisk pace through the aisles, snatching what she needed from the shelves. She tended to buy the same things so she didn’t worry about studying the prices or nutritional value. It had been a long day, starting with the trip to the donut shop, and she just wanted to go home, maybe do some gardening.

With everything on her list except the trail mix she favored, she pushed the buggy through the produce department. She reached out to pick up the plastic bag of nuts, chocolate candy and oats.

“So, not after donuts this time, I see.”

She looked up to find Dr. Jenkins grinning at her. She wanted to groan. Was he going to be around every corner she turned?

He moved his nearly full cart along beside hers. “I guess food is our common denominator.”

“I don’t think it’s so surprising that we meet here since we’ve only shopped at the two busiest places in town.”

“Still testy over this morning? Are you prickly to everyone when shopping for food or is it just me?”

His grin fed her annoyance. “Hey, I’m not prickly.” She pushed her cart forward. He followed. “I just don’t enjoy grocery shopping.”

“You know, if I was a psychiatrist I might find some hidden meaning in that statement.”

She was afraid he just might. The job of shopping and cooking had fallen on her at far too young an age. She hadn’t complained. If she’d wanted to eat then she’d needed to fix it. Now every time she entered the grocery store it brought back unhappy memories. That’s why she made a point to do most of her buying once a month. She picked up the small items she might need at a convenience store at other times.

China winced when he peered over into her basket, “Not much of a cook, are you?”

She glanced at all the prepared food piled there. “No. In fact, I hate it.”

“I love to cook. Our cook, Ruth, taught me all I know. At least now that I’ve moved here I’ll have time to enjoy cooking a meal.”

Our cook. They’d certainly come from two different worlds. She’d been the family cook. If you could call theirs a family.

More from intimidation than need, China picked up a few apples and put them in a small clear bag. She tied it off and placed them in her buggy. Payton had managed to make her feel at fault twice in the same day. Once over calling him an idiot and now over her eating habits.

“At least they look like a healthy choice.” He nodded toward the fruit in her buggy.

Obviously she didn’t meet the grade with his man. “So do your doctoring skills extend to reviewing everyone’s grocery cart?” she asked flippantly.

He chuckled. “No, but I do believe in eating right and encouraging others to do so also.”

“Well, it must be working. You are so slim and trim.”

He blanched then said, “I’ll let you finish your shopping. See you tomorrow.”

China watched him walked away. They hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts. Maybe she wasn’t giving him the chance he deserved. She looked down at the items in her cart. He hadn’t been wrong about her meal choices at all.

Payton opened the door to his house, which was built in the old Florida architectural style with wide verandas and seemingly never-ending white stairs up to the front door and another along the side to the kitchen. The property was located along West Beach Road well outside of town. He’d specifically asked the realtor for something private, well away from the summer crowds, with large windows. The woman had done her job well.

The master bedroom faced east, giving him a bright morning wake-up call. The house was well worth the amount of money he’d invested in it. Payton had hired a decorator long distance to furnish it. He’d wanted it livable when he arrived but it still lacked the personal touch.

He sighed. His parents didn’t understand his need to leave Chicago. In fact, his father was so disappointed that he could hardly speak to him. He no longer met his parents’ expectations. Having lymphoma had made him reexamine his life. His new goal was to find out what he wanted. His parents still held out hope he would change his mind and come home. He was just sorry that his actions had put a wedge between them. He’d changed, and they couldn’t deal with it.

The house was huge and Payton had no one to share it with, but that suited him fine. Janice wouldn’t have enjoyed it here anyway. Too hot, too many bugs and too far from social engagements. She’d complained he wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. Did she think people who feared they might die didn’t change? The second she’d found an opening she’d been gone.

Pushing the side door open, he placed the first load of bags on the counter then he headed out for more. Ten minutes later and proud he was no longer puffing after walking up stairs like he once had, Payton had all the food in the kitchen. He hadn’t totally regained his strength but it was quickly returning. China had reminded him that he hadn’t completely found the robust man he’d once been yet. Some swimming and sailing would solve that issue.

Today had been the first time he’d worked a full eight hours in months. He’d been the one in med school who everyone had envied for his ability to work on little sleep. Not anymore, though, and especially not tonight. Good dinner, short swim then off to bed was his plan.

After putting the groceries away, Payton pulled out a skillet. He’d prepared a simple stir-fry, planning to eat outside to enjoy the weather. Unlocking the door to one of the many porches, he picked up his plate and drink then stepped out. He sank into a wicker chair with a comfortable-looking pillow. With a sigh, he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, which matched the chair.

The cell phone resting against his thigh in his hip pocket vibrated. It would be his mom. She’d already called a number of times during the day and he’d been too busy to answer. Because she was a mom she worried. The old saying that you were always your mom’s baby, no matter how old you got, was no truer than when you were sick. His mom had more than jumped into caretaker mode when he’d required help. Now he needed her to let go, for his sake as well as hers. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to back off. That was one of a number of reasons he’d wanted to leave Chicago.

Some time later, his meal finished, he pulled his phone from his pocket and pushed the speed-dial number assigned to his mom. His chest contracted at the sound of relief in her voice when he said, “Hi, Mom.”

“Honey, it’s so good to hear from you. How’re you doing?”

Payton told her about his day, the house and the town. He left out his two meetings with China.

“Well, at least it sounds like a nice place.”

Payton watched as the sun became a half circle on the horizon. “It is. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Okay.” The wispy tone in her voice said she was still holding out hope that Payton would return to Chicago. That wouldn’t happen. All he wanted right now was to regain all his strength and make the most of life. He’d start by calling the marina and seeing if his sailboat had arrived. On his first day off he would be on it. It had been far too long.

Gathering his plate and glass, he took them inside. He’d call around to see where he might go parasailing. He hadn’t done that since he was a kid. It would be fun to try again. He’d be looking for a skimboard tomorrow.

He hadn’t missed the surprised then disapproving look on China’s face when he’d been asking the boy about learning to skimboard. It would be the first of many new things he planned to experience.

The corner of his mouth lifted. China had made his first day at work in Golden Shores memorable.

The next morning Payton rose early to take a run on the beach. The distance wasn’t what he could have done months ago but he was pleased with his effort. He felt invigorated and ready to face the day. His mom had admonished him not to overdo it but Payton was determined to get back to peak health as soon as possible and put having cancer behind him.

As he came down the hall of the clinic an hour and half later he heard the women talking but there was also a deep voice mixed among them. Payton placed his coffee and sack lunch in the office and walked to the front.

Jean and Doris were sitting behind the desk. Standing beside China in front of them was a tall, lanky man dressed in blue scrubs.

“Good morning, Dr. Jenkins,” Jean said.

“Please, make it Payton.” He looked at everyone.

“Payton it is,” Jean said with a smile. “This is Luke.” She indicated the guy beside China. “He’s one of the nurses that rotates in when either China or Robin have a day off.”

Luke extended his hand and Payton took it. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Luke said. “We’re glad to have you around here.”

The front door opened and a patient entered, ending their conversation. Over the next few hours Payton saw a steady stream of people, the highlights of which were a stomachache, severe sunburn and a twisted ankle. He loved it. This was nothing like the high-pressure, impersonal work he was used to. This was the kind of medicalcare work he wanted to do. At least when a patient returned to see him he would recognize a face, maybe remember a name. Everything his parents couldn’t understand. He no longer wanted to be one of the doctors in Chicago.

It was late afternoon when China handed him a chart. “The patient is complaining of vomiting, running a low-grade fever and weight gain.”

Payton’s chest constricted. It sounded so much like his symptoms. The ones he’d put off addressing, along with the swelling in his neck, until it had been almost too late. Deep in his gut he’d known it was cancer, but fear hadn’t let him admit it. That was behind him now. He had a new lease on life, and he planned to make the most of it.

“Dr. Jenkins? Are you okay?” Concern underscored her words.

China’s hand resting on his arm brought him back to reality. “I thought we agreed it was Payton.”

She looked at him far too closely. Could she read his apprehension?

He moved his arm and her fingers fell away. He’d had his fill of concern months ago. “I’m fine,” he said, far too sharply. “What room is the patient in?”

China stepped back and her eyes flickered with a look of what struck him strangely as fear before she said in a businesslike tone, “Exam three.”

Why would she be scared of him? He’d spoken more harshly than he should have but not enough to bring that type of look to her eyes.

Thankfully the patient had nothing more serious than an infection. Was he always going to overreact when someone came in with the same symptoms he’d had? For a second there he’d slipped and the all-too-perceptive nurse China had noticed. That couldn’t happen again.