Window on the Bay

by Debbie Macomber

  “What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard Rowan Lancaster correctly. It sounded like he was offering to date me. This had to be a joke.

  Rowan stepped into the room, filling it with his presence. He arched his brows and appeared to be waiting for my answer. I couldn’t have said a word if my life had depended on it. I stood there, looking like a prize-winning bass with my mouth hanging open.

  “I said if you need a date, I’d volunteer.”

  I glared at Maureen. This was her fault. She might be my best friend, but in that moment, I could have throttled her. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need a date,” I insisted.

  “Forgive me, I must have misunderstood,” Dr. Lancaster returned.

  “I can’t…”

  “Why can’t you?” Maureen demanded, ignoring my panicked look. “Especially when you have a handsome doctor willing to wine and dine you?”

  “Yes, why not?” Dr. Lancaster seconded.

  I inhaled deeply, hoping to compose myself enough to explain. I didn’t want to insult Rowan. “I appreciate the offer, but…”

  “She’s flattered,” Maureen translated, nodding toward the surgeon.

  This was payback, I realized. I was the one who’d insisted accepting Logan’s offer should be easy. It was a simple drink. No big deal. This was a reminder of how uncomfortable this dating business could be.

  “Yes,” I repeated, “I’m…flattered.” My mouth felt dry. Nevertheless, I needed to explain, and hoped I didn’t come across as insulting. “I should clarify…”

  Before I could continue, his name was called over the loudspeaker system. Rather than wait for my explanation, Rowan lifted his hand and stopped me. “I have to go. There’s no need to explain further.” He turned and, without another word, left the room.

  My heart sank. Rowan had been nothing but professional and caring when it came to my mother’s surgery. I was afraid I’d offended him, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. He was nothing like what I’d expected. While he was highly respected, the rest of the hospital gossip said he was distant and aloof, but I think it was because of his quiet and intense personality. I was left to wonder if any of what I’d heard about him was true.

  “Jenna,” my mother softly rebuked me with her tired voice. “I can’t believe you were so rude.” Apparently, she had woken up during the awkward exchange and had heard me stumble all over myself to refuse the good doctor’s offer.

  “Mom, I can’t date Dr. Lancaster,” I said, hoping she would accept that excuse and drop the subject. Knowing my mother as well as I did, I should’ve known better.

  “His first name is Rowan,” Mom told me between pinched lips. “He asked me to use it, and if I use it, you should, too.” This was followed by the look. It was one I recognized from my childhood when I’d displeased her.

  “Yes, I know…”

  “You were rude.”

  I couldn’t disagree. Rowan had been wonderful with my mother, discrediting my assumptions about surgeons.

  “He likes you, dear,” Mom continued, gentling her voice.

  I sincerely doubted that, as I barely knew the man. I stared at my mother, happy to see her mind had cleared enough to carry on an intelligent conversation, a first since her surgery.

  “Now tell me what the problem is,” Mom insisted.

  “Yes,” Maureen repeated, “what’s the problem?”

  No need to pause—my reasons were multiple. “First off, he’s a surgeon.”

  “That doesn’t make him a serial murderer,” Maureen pointed out.

  I shot her a look I normally reserved for my children and imagined it was an exact copy of the very one my mother had just given me.

  “Second, we work at the same hospital,” I added. Surely my mother and my best friend were wise enough to see the inherent problem with that.

  “You’re thinking of Kyle, aren’t you.” My mother tossed this out more as a statement than a question. “Well, your excuses are just that—excuses. Rowan is nothing like your ex-husband.”

  “Perhaps not,” I willingly conceded, “but none of this matters.”

  “You’re right,” Maureen was quick to agree. “Weren’t you the one to tell me no more than ten minutes ago that when a door opens, you should walk through it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Well, now that a door has opened for you, it isn’t as easy as you thought, is it?”

  I’d been wrong, blinded by my own insecurities. I’d been married. I’d lost my husband to another woman. To several women. After I’d divorced Kyle, I’d made the decision to focus on the kids, to push my needs aside until they left home. I didn’t want to bring a stepfather and/or stepsibling into our small, tight circle. This was a personal choice I’d made; I had many friends who’d decided differently and who had remarried to create blended families.

  This didn’t mean I wanted to live the rest of my life as a recluse or a hermit. I had dated plenty, but I’d never allowed a relationship to stand between the children and me. All my energy and devotion had gone into raising them.

  Paul and Allie were grown now, starting their adult lives. Both were in college and basically on their own. There should be nothing holding me back. Only there was, and I was currently running through that long list of insecurities in my mind. I’d been quick to say it was my turn to live my life, without understanding that it would mean lowering the walls I’d erected around my heart.

  I had looked forward to this time after the children left home. When the kids were teens and hormones were bouncing against the walls like Ping-Pong balls, I longed for the days when I would be free from the burdens of being a single parent. Now that the time had arrived, I found myself afraid to open the door to this next stage of my life. Sure, I looked forward to doing all the things I’d put off for years: the crafting classes, being part of a book club, getting more involved at church with the outreach ministry. What I hadn’t considered was finding that special someone to share my life with and what that would mean.

  “You’re looking thoughtful,” Mom said, breaking into my musings.

  I wanted to explain when I noticed the time. My break was over; I was already late. I had to get back to work. Heading in the direction of the door, walking backward, I gestured with my hands. “You’re right, so right.” Pointing at Maureen, I added, “Let’s talk.”

  My friend smiled and nodded. Even without me explaining, she knew what was in my mind. This didn’t mean I would take Rowan up on his offer. I was convinced it was a pity invite, despite my mother’s claim that he was interested in me.

  * * *

  —

  The remainder of my shift passed in a blur. After twelve hours on my feet, the first thing I did upon arriving home was fill the bathtub with scalding-hot water. It was how I relaxed after dealing with the life-and-death issues of my patients in intensive care. I’d lost a sixty-year-old man following heart surgery. Although I dealt with death almost daily, I’d never grow accustomed to it.

  As soon as I’d divested myself of my uniform, I slipped into the bathwater and leaned back, resting my head against the edge of the deep tub. Closing my eyes, I released the pent-up tension and attempted to relax.

  Only I couldn’t.

  My mind returned to Rowan Lancaster and the look that came over him when I’d hesitated at his offer. I hadn’t been able to read him. I didn’t mean to be rude. Nevertheless I feared I had been. After Kyle, I’d made it a hard-and-fast rule to avoid all romantic interest from anyone involved in the medical profession. Surgeons were an automatic red light.

  Dating another surgeon. No way. Nohow. Not happening.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t open to a relationship with someone inside the medical field, although admittedly, I would need a bit of mental adjusting. If I was going to bring a man into my life, it would have to be one I genuinel
y liked and respected. A man I could fall in love with every single day. The thing was, I’d gone all these years without a relationship, and quite honestly, I didn’t need one. My life had always been filled with work, the kids, and family; there had barely been room for anything else. Paul had been involved in soccer, and I’d attended countless games, carpooled to his practices, and been the team manager. Allie loved all forms of dance, with ballet and tap being her favorites. At about age ten, her interest drifted to the piano. That lasted three years before she joined the high school swim team, resulting in carpools and meets that took me across the state.

  The last bit of my bathwater was circling the drain when the phone rang. I recognized the ringtone as that of my daughter. I knew she was calling about her grandmother, wanting to know how she was doing.

  “Allie!” I was anxious to hear how things were going for her.

  “I didn’t catch you in the tub, did I?”

  Allie knew my routine. “I’m out and getting dressed.”

  “Good. I didn’t get up to see Grams today, and I feel awful. How’s she doing? She’s not upset with me, is she?”

  “She’s doing great. She asked about you but remembered it was your second full day of classes. She would have been upset if you’d skipped any of them.” I didn’t mention her continued confusion, since it seemed to have magically cleared up when Rowan stopped by her room. “She could be released tomorrow to a rehab facility.”

  “Grandma in rehab?” Allie gasped.

  I grinned. “It’s a rehabilitation facility where she’ll get full-time care. She’s going to need physical and occupational therapy before she can return home.”

  “Oh.” Allie’s relieved sigh drifted over the line.

  “How was your day?” I asked, knowing her head must be spinning with everything she had going on.

  “Great, although I’m not so sure about my roommate.”

  This didn’t sound encouraging. When Allie and I had arrived on campus and unpacked in her dorm room, her assigned roommate had yet to arrive. Allie and Kristen had been in touch over the summer and had been texting the entire time, and they appeared to be a good match.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  Allie sighed. “Kristen has a boyfriend. I heard about him all summer. It was Mark this and Mark that.”

  “And?”

  “They broke up yesterday,” Allie said with a disgusted sigh. “Kristen blew up when she heard that a friend back home saw Mark kissing another girl. That started the phone calls at all hours of the day and night, followed by endless shouting matches, concluding with long bouts of sobbing. I didn’t sleep all night.”

  “Poor Kristen.”

  “Kristen?” Allie bellowed. “What about me?”

  “You have my sympathy, too. But give her time. She’ll recover and meet someone else before you know it.”

  “Speaking of which,” my daughter added enthusiastically, “I met this guy at lunch today and found out we’re in the same psychology class. I swear he looks like McDreamy. He’s gorgeous.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Wyatt, and he asked me to a party tomorrow night.”

  “He’s a freshman?”

  “No, a junior, and he’s part of a fraternity.”

  “Where are you two going?”

  “To a house party.”

  I bit down on my lower lip, refusing to lecture her, although the words were on the tip of my tongue. “Remember the rules.”

  “Of course. I’m not stupid. I promise not to accept a drink from anyone. Only accept unopened cans.”

  “Good girl.”

  “I convinced Kristen to go with us. She’ll cover my back and I’ll watch hers.”

  That helped ease my mind. “Mackensie might come, too. She’s a transfer student I met in one of my classes and she’s friends with Wyatt.”

  “Good. The more, the better.” I was pleased to see that my daughter was quickly making friends.

  “Give Grams my love and tell her I’ll stop by tomorrow if I can,” Allie added quickly, as if eager to change the subject. My mind started racing with what she might possibly be trying to hide from me.

  “I’ll give Grams your love. Call me in the morning, okay?”

  “Bye, Mom.” She disconnected, and I noticed she didn’t say anything about us connecting the following day. I wanted my children to spread their wings and soar on their own. That was one of the reasons I’d agreed to let Allie live on campus, even though she could’ve commuted easily from home. I wanted her to get the full college experience. Now I was left to wonder if I’d made the right decision. I heaved a sigh and decided that time would tell.

  Letting go was far more complicated than I’d ever dreamed it would be.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jenna

  When Thursday morning came and went without the normal morning text from Allie, I became concerned. Generally, I left personal issues at home while I was at the hospital. Today, however, I couldn’t help fretting over the fact that I hadn’t heard from my daughter. When we’d talked, I’d tried to appear nonchalant about her attending a frat party. I’d given my daughter the opportunity to make adult decisions, to live on campus and choose her friends. All at once I was faced with a beehive of doubts. I hadn’t felt nearly as nervous when Paul went off to college. The fact that he was a young man shouldn’t have made my concerns that much different, but as the man of the house, my son had always been mature for his age. Allie was a bit flighty and somewhat of a follower. Granting her freedom wasn’t turning out to be as easy or as comfortable as I’d thought it would be.

  This frat party and the fact she hadn’t checked in worried me. I wasn’t naïve. I knew what those parties were like. I’d attended a few myself as a freshman in college. But the party wasn’t my only concern; this was the first time in my daughter’s life that I hadn’t been able to meet her date.

  I didn’t know a thing about Wyatt. I hadn’t set eyes on him. I’d had no opportunity to get a feel for what kind of person he was. That troubled me. Allie, my sweet, slightly spoiled, fairly innocent, and newly-turned-adult daughter, had gone to a frat party, and neither I nor her brother were around to protect her.

  At break time I couldn’t wait any longer. I hurried to collect my phone from my locker and called her. Allie didn’t answer until right before the call was ready to go to voicemail.

  “Hello.” Her voice was groggy, as if I’d woken her.

  “Are you sleeping?” I checked my watch and saw that it was late morning. I didn’t give her time to answer. “Don’t you have classes?”

  “Not until this afternoon. What time is it?” The question came on the tail end of a yawn.

  “What time did you get in last night?” I asked, doing my best to keep the irritation out of my voice. Allie knew better than to stay out late on a school night.

  “Late.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Why are you angry?” my daughter asked, clearly not understanding the angst she’d put me through.

  “I’m not angry, I’m concerned.”

  Allie exhaled loudly, as if losing her patience. “Mom, get real. I didn’t call because I was asleep.”

  I was convinced my daughter had lost all sense of priority. “Are you making your bed?”

  “What? I’m still in bed. So no, I haven’t made my bed.”

  Her sarcasm wasn’t helping. “I meant in the mornings.”

  “You’re serious? You actually want to know if I’m making my bed?” She made it sound as if that was the most ridiculous question anyone had ever asked.

  “Yes, tell me you’re making your bed.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?” Allie demanded, fully awake now.

  “It tells me everything.” If she’d let go of this one simple discip
line, then it told me that within the first week of her leaving home, she’d abandoned everything I’d ever taught her.

  “Mom,” Allie said pointedly. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound?”

  Hearing how calm Allie was and how wobbly my voice had gotten, I began to see her point.

  “Is this about Grams?” Allie asked. “Is this inquisition because you’re worried about her and transferring all your stress over to me?”

  She could be right. “Maybe. I was worried, Allie. I can’t stop thinking of you as my baby girl, even though you’re technically an adult.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing happened at the party. Kristen, Mackensie, and I hung out with Wyatt and his friends. We had a good time.”

  “You drank beer?”

  “Yup, but it was from a can. And no worries. I opened it myself.”

  I heaved a chest-deep sigh. “Good.”

  “And, Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve made my bed every morning since I arrived on campus.”

  Another sigh of relief.

  “Aren’t you at work?” Allie asked.

  “I’m on break.” I felt foolish now for making an issue out of something that wasn’t. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

  “I’m going to be fine, and you will be, too,” Allie said, assuring me.

  I did feel better. Returning to my shift, I worked straight through until it was time for my dinner break. I had my phone close at hand and saw that I had a text message from Maureen and another from my son.

  I did it.

  Maureen didn’t add any other details, so I phoned her. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hey,” she said with a happy lilt to her voice.

  “What did you mean by that text?”

  “I told Logan I’d meet him for a drink.”

  I could hear the barely constrained enthusiasm in her voice. This was big for my friend.

  “He stopped by the library just like he said he would, wanting my answer, and I agreed to meet him.”

  “When is all this happening?” I had to admit I was surprised. When it came to men, Maureen had high standards. Not that she was a snob, she just liked to be in control, while I was comfortable going with the flow. She was highly organized. Even the spices in her cupboard were alphabetized. I teased her that she had devised her own Dewey decimal system for her shoes, categorizing them by style and color. As a spotless housekeeper, Maureen had a place for everything. I doubted there was even a crumb in her carpet. The fact that she’d agreed to this date told me there was something special about this guy.