A Perfect Homecoming

CHAPTER FOUR

PAULA HAD BEEN in and out of bed all night. Why couldn’t OBs understand that complete bed rest was virtually impossible when your pregnancy bladder acted like an alarm clock? Of course, every time she got out of bed and moved around it woke Bam-Bam, who was instantly ready to shake, rattle and roll.

Nothing like a kick in the ribs to keep you awake.

She finally gave up and decided to read for a while, but she must have fallen asleep because a knock on her bedroom door startled her awake.

“Come in.” Daylight peeked through the front window where the curtains met and the book she’d been reading lay across her chest. She searched the covers for her bookmark and set the book next to her.

Ashleigh entered, carrying a tray that, from the delicious smell, must be breakfast.

“Good morning.” Ashleigh’s words sounded more cheerful than her expression conveyed. “I hope you still like eggs on a raft. I came to ask you before I started cooking, but you were asleep.”

“I haven’t had that in years!” Paula’s ho-hum attitude changed slightly for the better. “The boys like scrambled eggs, so that’s what I usually fix.”

Ashleigh set the tray down. Along with the poached eggs on toast were hot tea, orange juice and blueberry yogurt. Perfect, just like Ashleigh.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” Paula pushed aside her mental insults because she couldn’t wait to dig in. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ashleigh helped Paula get the tray settled and glanced around the bedroom. “Is there anything else you need? The boys are finishing breakfast and I started a load of laundry.”

Paula swallowed her first mouthful of food and shook her head. “No, this is wonderful.” She cut off another bite of toast and ran it through the perfectly done yolk. “Grandma used to make this for us.”

Ashleigh’s eyebrows rose. “I remember.”

She probably hadn’t expected Paula to solicit a conversation, but what the heck. They needed to start somewhere. This pregnancy still had several weeks to go.

“Remember that day she spent so much time teaching us how to crack eggs without breaking the yolk?” Ashleigh’s hint of a smile at the memory seemed genuine.

“And the number of eggs we wasted!” Paula took a sip of tea and it sloshed close to the edge of the mug when she unexpectedly chuckled. “We must have gone through close to two dozen and there was more shell than egg in the bowl.”

“Then Grandpa came into the kitchen, asking what all the racket was about.” Ashleigh’s lips curved into a smile. “And we were astonished when he demonstrated his perfect, one-handed crack of an egg. That day he became my hero.”

Paula sobered, recalling her deceased grandparents’ loving relationship. “I remember the way he always looked at Grandma and I used to think, ‘That’s how I want my husband to look at me.’ I was about eight or nine at the time.”

“That’s exactly what you’ve got,” Ashleigh reminded her in a quiet voice.

“I know. We both have men like that.” The words escaped Paula’s mouth before she realized what she was saying. “I didn’t mean—”

Ashleigh stiffened, crossed her arms over her chest and turned toward the bedroom door. She did an immediate one-eighty. “I need to say something.”

Paula had an apology ready on her lips, but instead she waited for Ashleigh to continue before making things worse.

“I know it’s awkward having me around but I’m not leaving.” Ashleigh kept her eyes averted. “I’m here for the duration.”

That was the last thing Paula expected Ashleigh to say. “Where did that come from?”

Ashleigh’s lips quivered as she spoke. “Kyle and I—” She cleared her throat. “We talked last night. He wants me to go back to Richmond. That way there would be less stress on you.”

Paula couldn’t believe her ears. She hadn’t wanted Ashleigh here in the first place, but she’d known it was for the best. Not because she and the boys needed someone they could count on, but because she and Ashleigh needed to work things out.

“Kyle said that?” Paula’s words came out harsher than she’d intended. “You know, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of everyone making decisions for me without even consulting me.”

“He just wants what’s best for you—we both do,” Ashleigh said.

“We?” Paula spoke sharply, her temper flaring. “Since when are you and Kyle we?” She could feel herself becoming irrational, but it ticked her off that everyone was ganging up on her.

“Paula—”

“I don’t want to hear any more.” She’d lost her appetite and shoved the food tray to the other side of the bed.

Paula didn’t want anyone’s help. She wanted to manage on her own like she always did.

The mix of emotions flowing through her was enough to make her want to bawl her eyes out. But she’d be damned if she’d give Ashleigh the satisfaction of knowing she’d upset her.

“You really should eat.”

Paula stared at Ashleigh until she silently picked up the tray and stood at the end of the bed as if waiting for Paula to say more.

Instead, Paula got her oversize, pregnant self out of bed and walked into the bathroom with her head held high. She slammed the door, essentially ending the conversation with the stranger who had never felt less like a sister than right at that moment.

* * *

KYLE TOOK A healthy swig of coffee in the nearly empty hospital cafeteria. His cell phone rang. The caller ID read “Paula” so he answered immediately.

“Is everything okay?” His heart rate accelerated. Paula rarely called, preferring to text instead.

“No,” Paula barked into his ear. “Everything is not okay.”

Was she in labor? He didn’t have a chance to ask before she continued. “What right do you have telling Ashleigh to go home?”

This was not good. How much did Paula know about last night? “So you’re okay? Physically?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Still pregnant, still on bed rest, and now I’m ticked off. What did you say to Ashleigh?”

“I thought you didn’t want her here.” Kyle remembered to moderate his voice in the public cafeteria.

“I don’t,” she shot back. “But she’s my sister, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” he said gently. “Do you want me to ask her to stay?” Please say no. After he’d kissed Ashleigh last night, he’d wanted to kick himself.

He’d also wanted to kiss her again, and again, if truth be told. He’d always been physically attracted to her, no matter what was going on emotionally.

“It doesn’t matter.” Paula’s voice caught. “She told me she’s here for the duration. Even if I asked her to go, she wouldn’t. Not that she’s ever listened to me.” A sound like a sob came from Paula.

“Are you crying?” He couldn’t tell if she was angry or sad, but he knew better than to point out her irrationality.

Another sob. “No, I’m not crying,” she said before succumbing to actual crying.

“Listen, would it help if I talked to her and apologized?”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of people plotting behind my back.”

“You know that’s not what we’re doing.”

“Really?”

“We’re trying to do our best for you and your baby.”

Paula sniffled. “I know. I’m sorry.” She sobbed, a choking sound that nearly broke Kyle’s heart. “I just want to be back in charge of my life.”

Kyle grasped for something to say. “This will all be over soon and you’ll forget about the bad stuff when you hold your baby.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Paula ended the call and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk to Ashleigh or not.

* * *

LATER THAT MORNING, after Ashleigh got the boys off to school and knew Paula would be okay until lunchtime, she headed out to run some errands. Paula’s stress level would be lower without Ashleigh hanging around. Besides, she had her cell phone with her if an emergency arose.

First off was her pediatric practice to see how things were going.

“Good morning, Dr. Wilson.” Cammie Varrone, the fortysomething office manager, greeted her with a welcoming smile. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

Ashleigh returned her smile. “I’m helping out my sister. She’s having some pregnancy complications.” That sounded like a reasonable answer, as long as no one asked about her relationship with her sister.

“Tell her we’re wishing her well and let us know if we can do anything.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ashleigh said. “Is Dr. Mitchell in?”

“He’s returning calls in his office. His first patient isn’t due for another fifteen minutes.”

Ashleigh pointed to the closed door that led to her father’s office when he’d owned the practice. “I’ll peek in for just a minute.”

She knocked quietly on the door and heard, “Come in.” She slowly opened the door and stuck her head in the room.

Stan Mitchell’s eyes widened and he smiled. He held up one finger and ended his phone call. “Let me know if the fever continues with the new antibiotic.” He hung up the phone, rose slowly from his chair and came around the desk. “Come in, come in! It’s so good to see you!” He hugged Ashleigh and it crossed her mind that this man she didn’t know that well was giving her such a warm welcome, while others she’d known for years had barely acknowledged her presence.

He held her at arm’s length and looked at her. “So how are you? What brings you here?”

She quickly updated him on her life and explained in minimal terms why she was in town. Yet, during their conversation, she got the distinct feeling that there was something wrong with Stan.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Busy as usual,” he said. “You know how it is.”

When Ashleigh moved to Richmond, Stan had taken over the pediatric practice she’d inherited from her father upon his death. Stan had grown up in Grand Oaks but had spent his medical career at a children’s hospital on the West Coast. The high stress level had worn him down, so he’d gratefully accepted the position in Grand Oaks.

“Well, just make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” Ashleigh wasn’t convinced he was simply overworked. “I can help out while I’m in town, you know. Come in a few hours a day to give you a break.”

“What about your sister? I thought you were here for her.” At least Stan didn’t give her a flat-out no.

“She doesn’t need me twenty-four seven—in fact she’d probably like the break. The boys are in school during the day, so I can come in the morning, go home to get Paula lunch and then come back for an hour or two until the boys get home.”

Stan lowered himself onto the corner of the desk. “If you think you can do it all, then I’d be grateful. I am feeling kind of worn-out these days. My wife’s been complaining that I barely have enough energy to eat dinner.” He laughed, but Ashleigh’s concern heightened. “I probably need some B vitamins to perk me up.”

They set up a schedule for the rest of the week and Ashleigh went on her way. Other than forcing him into a doctor’s office for a physical, she wasn’t sure what else she could have done. Next time she saw him, though, she’d push the physical idea. One step at a time.

* * *

AFTER A QUIET MORNING in the E.R., there had been a sudden rush of patients when Kyle was about to take an early lunch break. Now it was nearly one and his starvation was finally appeased after finishing a turkey sub and two apples.

“There you are.” The young female voice behind Kyle startled him. “You didn’t answer your page so they sent me to look for you.”

He turned to answer the young student nurse. “What’s up, Katelyn?” He checked the beeper at his waist, wondering why he hadn’t felt it. He must have been really hungry not to notice.

“Dr. Mitchell was brought into the E.R. with an apparent heart attack. Ms. Snyder thought you’d like to know,” she said, referring to the E.R. ward clerk.

“Stan Mitchell?” The guy was in his mid-fifties. At the girl’s timid bob of her head, Kyle rose from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “Thanks,” he said over his shoulder, and hurried through the busy hallways to the E.R.

“What’s Dr. Mitchell’s status?” he asked breathlessly of the E.R. ward clerk.

“He’s in curtain three,” she said. “His wife is over there.” She pointed toward the waiting room where a petite blonde was wringing her hands.

Kyle turned on his heel to speak to Stan’s wife, unable to recall her first name. He pulled a metal chair closer to the youthful-looking woman probably in her mid-forties and sat. “I’m Kyle Jennings, Mrs. Mitchell. Stan took over my ex-wife’s pediatric practice.” The term “ex-wife” would never flow smoothly off his tongue.

She nodded her head. “Yes, I remember you. We met at that hospital fund-raiser.” Her eyes were red and puffy. “Is Stan going to be okay? One minute he was talking to me at lunch and the next—”

“I’m going to see how he’s doing and I’ll let you know.” Kyle stood and put a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it gently before hurrying off to curtain three.

The E.R. doctor on duty exited from Stan’s curtained area. “How is he?” Kyle asked.

“Lucky,” Chuck Borden answered. “His wife was with him and was able to get the first responders there quickly. She did chest compressions until they took over. They almost lost him in the ambulance.”

Unbelievable. The cardiologist on duty would order tests to find out how much damage Stan’s heart had endured. At least now he had a good chance of recovery.

“I’ll let his wife know he’s stable and that she can come sit with him.”

Chuck nodded and made a notation on Stan’s chart.

As Kyle walked back to the waiting room, a thought occurred to him. Ashleigh would have to deal with Stan’s health issues and necessary absence since she still owned the practice.

Kyle wasn’t sure why she hadn’t sold it. Beyond family, it was her last tie to the town.

Now he needed to figure out how to get someone else to make the call to Ashleigh to let her know Stan’s condition.

He dialed her pediatric practice from memory and the office manager answered. Cammie was the perfect choice to pass on the news about Stan to Ashleigh.

* * *

AFTER LEAVING HER pediatric office, Ashleigh spent the morning stopping at a few of her favorite places in town. There were some things she couldn’t get in Richmond that she’d grown accustomed to in Grand Oaks. Like the homemade bread from Mama’s Bakery on Market Street and a fresh supply of dry red wine from Mossy Oak Vineyard.

She’d barely pulled into the parking lot of the vineyard, located about two miles out of town, when her cell phone rang.

Why would someone from her pediatric practice be calling? “Hello?”

“Dr. Wilson?”

“Yes?” Ashleigh answered.

“This is Cammie, um, Cammie Varrone, the office manager at Dr. Mitchell’s—I mean your— pediatric office.”

“Yes, Cammie, what is it?”

“Well, I’m afraid Dr. Mitchell is in the hospital—”

“Oh, no! What happened? Is he all right?” Ashleigh’s heart was in her throat as she waited for details. She’d barely left him a few hours ago.

“He apparently had a heart attack,” she said with a trembling voice.

A heart attack? He was too young for that, she thought, even though the doctor in her knew he wasn’t. “How bad?”

“They’re not sure how much damage his heart sustained.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll call the hospital and see if they have an update.”

“Um, Dr. Wilson?”

“Yes?” Was there more?

“We have no one to take over Dr. Mitchell’s caseload.”

Cammie didn’t know about Ashleigh and Stan’s schedule, so Ashleigh filled her in. “What about Dr. Charles?” Livvy Charles had a pediatric office in the next town over and served as Stan Mitchell’s backup. Ashleigh couldn’t handle the practice full-time and take care of her sister and nephews, too.

Silence. “She’s on maternity leave,” Cammie finally said. “Her baby was born a few days ago and Dr. Mitchell has been seeing her patients.”

Of course he was.

“Okay.” Ashleigh sighed. “Let me figure out what to do and I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ve canceled all the well-baby and physical appointments for today, but I don’t know what to do about the rest.”

Ashleigh considered her options. The pediatric practice was still her responsibility—she should have sold it before moving to Richmond.

“You did good, Cammie. Give me half an hour and I’ll be over to figure out how to handle this.”

They disconnected and Ashleigh remained in the vineyard parking lot to make some phone calls. Unfortunately, no one was available to step in and no one knew anyone they could recommend.

After nearly fifteen minutes, she finally hit upon Samantha Collins—an old medical school colleague who could fill in temporarily. The only problem was that Samantha couldn’t come for a few days due to teaching obligations. But Ashleigh could deal with that.

Ashleigh let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks so much, Sam.”

“This will be fun,” she told Ashleigh. “I don’t get to practice nearly as much since I took this teaching job at the medical school.”

They spoke for a few more minutes before Ashleigh ended the call. There was no way around it. She would have to take over the practice until Sam got here.

Now she—and Paula—had no other choice. Ashleigh would have to find someone to help out at her sister’s, at least part-time.

Ashleigh made a few more phone calls and ended her search for household help successfully.

She called Paula. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Paula’s lack of enthusiasm wasn’t a surprise.

“Stan Mitchell had a heart attack.” Ashleigh hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but she’d lost the ability to converse normally with her sister.

Paula gasped. “Is he okay?” Ashleigh related what she knew about Stan and then told her about the young woman who would be helping out.

“Mrs. Baxter, next door to you, has a twenty-two-year-old granddaughter who’s looking for work. She says the two of you met last Christmas. Emma graduated from college in December and is willing to help out until she finds a full-time teaching job. Her degree is in elementary education.” Ashleigh paused a second. “She can get the boys off to school, do laundry and grocery shop. Then I can take over when I get home.”

Paula was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. Ashleigh was about to speak when Paula finally said, “I guess that will work.”

“Then I’ll see you after I get things straightened out in the office. Emma will come over right away.”

Ashleigh put the car into Reverse and backed out of the space.

So much for the wine.

Not long after that, Ashleigh pulled up in front of Paula’s. “I’m here,” she called out cheerfully when she entered the house.

“I’m still in bed,” Paula groused, her tone of voice cool.

Her sister was sitting up in bed, paperwork spread out around her that appeared to be bills. Her hair was damp and secured with combs away from her face. Her creamy complexion was flushed. She looked at Ashleigh, apparently waiting for her to speak first.

“Did it work out with Emma?” Ashleigh asked.

Paula shrugged unenthusiastically. “I guess so.” She wasn’t about to make this easy, was she? “She just left.”

“What did she make you for lunch?” Ashleigh asked.

“I told her I wasn’t hungry.”

Unacceptable. Lunchtime had come and gone a few hours ago. Keeping her censure to herself, she went to fix Paula some lunch, whether she wanted it or not.

* * *

LESS THAN AN hour later, Ashleigh was entrenched in her former office at the pediatric practice her father opened in the late sixties. She drummed her fingers on the desk as she waited to see her first patient in two years.

She took in the strangely unfamiliar surroundings. This was Stan’s domain now, with his diplomas and awards displayed on the walls. Pictures of his wife and two grown daughters were arranged on the credenza, along with a photo of a black lab with a stick in its mouth.

Stan initially told her he wanted to work part-time after putting in so many grueling hours at his last job. Ashleigh expected to have her work cut out convincing him to return to his hometown, but it hadn’t taken much coaxing after he realized he’d be able to play golf and tennis at the refurbished country club. As soon as they’d settled into their newly renovated farmhouse on ten acres outside of town, his wife had jumped right into the Grand Oaks Garden Club.

How was Linda doing now? Ashleigh could only imagine how worried she must be.

She was reaching for the phone on the desk to call her when a knock sounded at the door. Cammie must be coming to tell her that her first patient was in exam room one. “Come in,” she called out. “I’ll be right—”

It wasn’t Cammie at the door, but Kyle. Her mouth stopped functioning.

He yanked at the collar of his button-down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and her gaze was drawn to his forearms. The instantaneous memory of running her hands down his arms to entwine her fingers with his had her blood heating to a rapid boil.

“I saw your car parked outside and figured you’d heard about Stan.” His voice was both solemn and sexy.

She nodded hesitantly and recovered her voice. “How is he?”

Kyle filled her in on Stan’s condition, ending with, “He’s scheduled for a triple bypass tomorrow.”

Ashleigh did the recovery calculation in her head. “So he won’t be able to come back to work anytime soon.”

“That’s if everything goes smoothly.”

There was an uncomfortable silence until Kyle finally spoke. “Stan put his own stamp on this office, didn’t he?” He gestured to the mementos spread around the space.

“I remember coming here as a little girl when it was my dad’s office.” Her throat thickened with emotion. “He had that huge oak desk that had been passed down from his grandfather. The one I used to use.” She’d put it in storage when she moved away from Grand Oaks.

“He would set me right here.” She motioned to the area on the desk in front of her. “And he would point his finger at me and say, ‘You can be anything you want to be. Just because I chose medicine doesn’t mean you have to.’ Then he’d wink and say, ‘But it sure would be nice to work next to you.’” Then he would pull a lollipop from the desk drawer and hand it to her.