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“So what do you think it is, then?” Discussing medicine was always easy…and safe.
“I’ve been wondering if he might have tracheobronchomalacia, but Roma, his mom, doesn’t want him put through a bunch of tests to find out.”
“Is that your wife?”
He laughed. “No, my stepmother. Robbie’s my half brother.”
“Ahh.” She’d heard the scuttlebutt about him being quite the playboy, and she couldn’t tolerate a married guy flirting with the help.
A smile crossed his face. “Did you think he was my kid?”
She shrugged. What else was she supposed to think?
“I’m just watching Robbie while my dad and Roma are in Maui.” He stared at his coffee mug and ran his hand over his hair, deep in thought. “Yeah, so I want to do a bronchoscopy, but Roma is taking some persuading.”
“You think like a typical pulmonologist,” she said, spooning some sugar into her coffee. “Always the worst-case scenario.”
“And you don’t assume the worst for your patients?”
She shook her head. “I’m an obstetrician, remember? Good stuff.” Except in her personal life.
“You’ve got a point. But I’m not imagining this. He gets recurrent chest infections, he’s got a single-note wheeze, and at night he has this constant stridorous cough. I’ve just never had to sleep with him before.”
“You’re sleeping with him?” The thought of the gorgeous guy with the sexy reputation sleeping with his little brother almost brought a smile to her lips.
“Yeah, well…” Did Phil look sheepish? “He was in a new house and a strange bed. You know the drill.”
She couldn’t hide her smile any longer. “That’s very sweet.”
He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, a more macho pose. “More like survival. The kid cried until I promised to sleep with him.”
Heat worked up her neck. “That was probably my fault.”
He looked at her, and their eyes met for the briefest of moments. There was a real human being behind that ruggedly handsome face. Perhaps someone worth knowing.
“Let’s drop it. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened,” he said.
Maybe she shouldn’t try so hard to avoid him. Maybe he was a great guy she could enjoy. But insecurity, like well-worn shoes you just couldn’t part with, kept her from giving him a second thought.
“It’s not asthma,” he said, breaking her concentration. “If I knew for sure what it was, I could treat it. He may grow out of it, but he’s suffering right now. You think I look tired, you should see him. The thing is, he might only need something as simple as extra oxygen or, if necessary, CPAP.” He rubbed his chin.
All the talk about Robbie’s respiratory condition made her worry about him. Especially after she’d made the poor little guy cry until he was hoarse the other night. She sipped her coffee. “Is there any less invasive procedure that can give the same diagnosis?” Keeping things technical made it easier to talk about the boy.
“Bronchography, but he’s allergic to iodine, and I wouldn’t want to expose him to the radiation at this age. And all I’d have to do is sedate him and slip a scope in his lungs to check things out. Five minutes, tops. I’ll see how things go.”
“So where is he?”
“He’s in day care with his new best friend, Claire’s daughter. Thankfully she took pity on me and chauffeured him today.”
No sooner had he said it than Claire breezed through the door. The tall, slender, honey blonde had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s called carpooling.”
“Ah, right.” Phil said, then glanced at Stephanie. “Learning curve.”
“Morning,” Claire said.
Stephanie nodded. She’d met the clinic nurse practitioner the other day in a bright, welcoming office that came complete with aromatherapy and candles. She was Jason’s wife, and seemed nice enough, but Stephanie hadn’t let herself warm to anyone yet.
“So, Robbie didn’t want to go with his group after driving to the preschool with Gina talking his ear off,” Claire said. “Gina’s my daughter,” she said for Stephanie’s benefit. “He looks so cute in his glasses. When did he get them?”
Phil grinned. “Beats me, but I found them in his things, so I talked him into wearing them.”
“See, you’re a natural.”
He refilled half of his mug. “That’ll be the day. Two nights, and I’m already planning to scope him for that cough of his. How does Roma manage?”
“Like all mothers. We follow our instincts. Give it a try.” Claire winked at Stephanie, as if they belonged to the same secret sorority. If Claire only knew how wrong she was.
Stephanie took another swallow of coffee, wishing she could fade into the woodwork.
“Do you have any kids?” Claire asked.
“No.” Stephanie couldn’t say it fast enough. She stared deeply into her coffee, trying her best to compose herself. Phil watched her. “Well, I’d better prepare for my first patient. I have a lot to live up to, filling Renе’s shoes.” She reheated her coffee and started for the door, needing to get far away from all the talk of children. Maybe it had been a mistake coming here, but she’d committed herself for the next two months, and she’d live up to her promise.
“You’ll do fine,” Phil said with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got to take off, too. Need to make a run to the hospital this morning.”
She peeked over her shoulder. He stopped and poured the rest of his coffee into the sink, then glanced at Stephanie. Eye contact with Phil was the last thing she wanted, so she flicked her gaze toward her shoes. What must he think of her and her crazy behavior? But, more importantly, why did she care?
On her way out the door she passed the cardiologist, Jon Becker, and nodded. He gave a stately nod then headed for the counter and the nearly empty coffee pot.
“Hey,” he said. “I made the coffee and now all I get is half a cup?”
Hunching her shoulders, Stephanie took a surreptitious sip from her mug and slunk down the hall. How many more bad first impressions was she going to make?
“Make a full pot next time,” she heard Claire say. “Quit being so task oriented,” she chided, more as if to a family member than a business colleague. “If you’re going to be a stay-at-home dad, you need to think like a nurturer.”
“Claire, all I wanted was a cup of coffee, not a feminist lecture on thinking for the group.”
Stephanie couldn’t resist it. A smile stretched across her lips, the first one in two days. Jon looked at least forty, and he was going to be a stay-at-home dad?
She’d been so isolated over the past three years, and had no idea how to have a simple conversation with coworkers. Maybe it was time to make an effort to be friendly, like every other normal human being.
A familiar negative tidal wave moved swiftly and blanketed her with doubt.
You don’t deserve to be alive. She could practically hear her ex-husband’s voice repeating the cutting words.
On her way back to the extended-stay hotel that night, Stephanie realized how famished she was. On a whim, she stopped at a decent-looking Japanese restaurant for some takeout.
After placing her order, she sat primly on the edge of one of the sushi bar stools. She sipped green tea, and glanced around. Down the aisle, there was Robbie, grains of rice stuck to his beaming face like 3-D freckles. Across from the boy, with his back to her, sat Phil. A jolt of nerves cut through her as she hoped Robbie wouldn’t recognize her. He might start crying again. How soon could she get her order and sneak out? Just as she thought it, as if sending a mental tap to his shoulder, Phil turned and saw her, flashed a look of surprise, then waved her over.
She couldn’t very well pretend she hadn’t seen him. She waved tentatively back then shook her head as Phil’s ever-broadening gesture to join them was accompanied by a desperate look.
Be strong. He’s the one babysitting. It’s not your responsibility.
He stood, made an even more pronounced gesture with pleading eyes.
The guy begged, but she couldn’t budge. She shook her head and mouthed, “Sorry.” He might think she was the most unfriendly woman he’d ever met, but no way was she ready to sit down with them, as if they were some little happy family. No. She couldn’t. It would be unbearable.
She avoided Phil’s disappointed gaze by finishing her tea.
Fortunately, the sushi chef handed her the order. After she paid for the food, she grabbed the package, tossed Phil one last regretful look, and left.
Strike two.
Stephanie walked her last patient of the morning to the door. The lady hugged her as if they were old friends. One of the things she loved about her job was telling people they were pregnant.
“Have you got all the information you need?”
The young woman’s head bobbed.
“Any more questions?”
“I’m sure I’ve got a million of them, but I can’t think of anything right now except…I’m pregnant!” She clapped her hands.
Stephanie laughed. “Well, be sure to write all those questions down and we’ll go through them next time.”
“I will, Doctor. Thanks again.” The woman gave her a second hug.
Stephanie waved goodbye, and with a smile on her face watched as her patient floated on air when she left the clinic.
“I was about to accuse you of being heartless, but I’ve changed my mind now,” Phil chided.
Stephanie blushed. She knew exactly what he referred to.
“How are things going with Robbie?” her nurse asked Phil in passing.
“Just dandy,” he said, with a wry smile. “I finally figured out it’s a lot less messy to take him into the shower with me instead of bathing him in the tub by himself.”
The nurse giggled. “I can only imagine.”
Stephanie fought the image his description implanted in her mind, obviously the same one Amy had. He seemed to be a nice guy. Everyone liked him. Adored him. The fact that he was billboard gorgeous, even with ever-darkening circles under his eyes, should be a plus, but it intimidated her. And after the way she’d treated him and Robbie, she didn’t have a clue why he kept coming around.
“You doing anything for lunch today?” he asked.
Could she handle an entire lunch with this guy? “Why would you want to take me to lunch?”
“Why not? You’re new in town, probably don’t know your way around…”
His cell phone went off, saving her from answering him.
“Cripes!” he said. “Hold on a sec.” He held up one finger and answered his phone.
After a brief conversation, he hung up with a dejected look. “Evidently Robbie got pushed by another kid and skinned his knees.” He scratched his head, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. “He’s crying and asking for me, so…”
“It’s a big job being a stand-in dad, isn’t it?”
“You’re telling me. Hey, I have an idea, why don’t we have lunch tomorrow?”
Swept up by the whole package that was Phil, including the part of fumbling stand-in dad, she answered without thinking. “Sure.”
The next day, at noon, Stephanie found Phil standing at her door wearing another expression of chagrin. “I completely forgot we have a staff meeting today.”
“Yeah, I just got the memo,” she said.
“You should come. We’ve got some big decisions to make.”
“I don’t have any authority here.”
“Oh, trust me, on this topic your input is equally as important as any of ours.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We have to decide how we’re going to decorate the yacht for the annual Christmas parade.”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!”
“Big ideas take big planning. Besides, have you been by the Paseo? They’ve already put up a Christmas tree. Huge thing, too. I took Robbie to see it last night.”
His deadpan expression and quirky news made her blurt a laugh. When was the last time she’d done that? “Well, seeing I’ve never been on a yacht, not to mention the fact that I suck at decorating, I can’t see how I’ll bring a lot to the table.”
“Come anyway. You might enjoy it.”
I might enjoy it. Wasn’t that the pep talk she’d given herself the other day? Be open to new things? Start acting alive again?
“It’s a free lunch,” he enticed with lowered sunbleached brows.
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you change your mind, we’ll be in the lounge in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
His smile started at those shocking blue eyes, traveled down to his enticing mouth and wound up looking suspiciously like victory. The guy was one smooth operator.
After he left, Stephanie surprised herself further when she brushed her hair, plumped and puffed it into submission, then put on a new coat of lip gloss before heading to the back of the building for the meeting. She stopped at the double doors, fighting back the nervous wave waiting to pounce. The place was abuzz with activity. Claire called out various types of sandwiches she had stored in a huge shopping bag, and when someone claimed one, she tossed the securely wrapped package at them. One of the nurses passed out canned sodas or bottled water. Another gave a choice of fruit or cookie.
“I’ll take both,” she heard Phil say just before he noticed her at the door. “Hey, I saved you a seat.” He patted the chair next to him. “What kind of sandwich do you want?”
“Turkey?”
