by T. I. Lowe
•••
The office was relatively quiet the following week, and Wes was still struggling to get used to the more lax schedule. Back in the world of hematology and oncology, a quiet day was nonexistent. A day didn’t pass without some adrenaline-infused crisis or cutting-edge discovery.
As Wes flipped through a file on his desk, his eyes slowly drooped. Blinking a few times, he tried to refocus on the page only to have it slip through his fingers as his head nodded once again.
Just as his eyes drifted shut, a knock on the door startled him awake. Clearing his throat, he called out, “Come in.”
His nurse appeared with another old-school paper file in her hand. “We have a small emergency.” Krista gave him a sympathetic look as she handed over the thick file.
Wes didn’t care how small; he was just eager to have a challenge of any sort on his hands. He glanced quickly at the top sheet, noting the number nine on the age line, before rushing into the only occupied exam room. Thinking he was still a little groggy from boredom, Wes squinted at the patient with a fishing hook through her thumb.
Said patient was dressed in a floral shirt, camouflage overalls, and hot-pink ballet flats. She wore a trucker hat backward, and it seemed to be losing the battle of helping hold the long white hair out of the way. Confused yet slightly amused, he glanced again at the file. This time he noticed a zero following the nine.
Giving up on it making any sense, Wes set the file down and edged closer to the woman. “Uh . . . good morning, Miss Dalma.”
“Not really,” Dalma grumbled as she held up her hand.
Wes plucked a pair of gloves from the box and put them on, still baffled as to why she was here, in a pediatric office. This little lady was always with the other hens who continuously popped up with baked goods and gossip, but she was less clucky and only added an off-the-wall anecdote every now and then.
“Did someone bring you here?” Wes asked as he inspected the hook. It was a simple bait hook with a tiny barb, and it had only penetrated the epidermis, so he was fairly confident that it would be easy to remove.
“Oh yes. August Bradford is in the waiting room. Such a sweet boy.”
“Were you two out fishing?”
“No. Not this time. I was looking through my jewelry box for a ring I wanted to give him for Josie, but this hook got me.” She hitched a thin shoulder up, looking as baffled by that declaration as Wes. “Darnedest thing.”
Wes gave her an apologetic smile before saying, “I believe August brought you to the wrong office.”
“No, honey. Doc has been treating me for years. And it’s much more fun here than the other office filled with a bunch of old geezers, wheezing and whining about their arthritis and bunions.”
Wes took a good look at Dalma, finding only lucidity in her cloudy-blue eyes. Biting his cheek to hold in the chuckle, he tore the gloves off. “Can you sit tight for a second?” When she nodded, he moved toward the door. “I’m going to get Nurse Krista to numb your thumb. Then I’ll be back to remove the hook.”
“Numb and thumb rhyme. See? Much more fun. They don’t say anything fun or silly at that old geezer place.” Dalma grinned, swinging her legs, looking the opposite of old.
Wes returned her grin. This was the most silly fun he’d had since the pooping date incident last week. After giving Krista instructions, he had to go share the silliness of the situation with Sophia. He genuinely enjoyed having someone to share moments like these with for the first time in a long time, and she was always eager to listen.
He gave the slightly open door a quick knock before slipping inside.
“Yes?” Sophia asked, finishing up whatever she was typing before looking up. She was smartly dressed in another pantsuit, black with a teal blouse. Her dark hair was pulled neatly into a low bun. No doubt about it, the woman was stunning.
Between the weird episode with Dalma and now openly checking Sophia out, Wes was beginning to think he was still sleeping. Blinking out of the daze, he tried to recall why he’d even gone into her office in the first place. Ninety-year-old patient! “I’m currently treating my very first patient who draws Social Security.”
Sophia’s blue eyes lit up as her smile grew in amusement to match his. “Let me guess. Dalma Burgess.”
“Yep.” Wes chuckled.
“She okay?”
“She will be after I remove the fishing hook from her thumb. I’m waiting for Krista to numb it first.”
Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Ouch. You better take good care of that sweet lady. Oh, and Agnes says Doc always gives her an extra sucker, so don’t forget.” Sophia produced two red, heart-shaped suckers from her drawer and stood up to hand them to him. “These are her favorites.”
He tucked them into his lab coat pocket. “An extra sucker. Got it.”
Sophia grabbed his arm before he made it into the hallway, and the subtle scent of peonies and citrus grabbed ahold of him too. “Then be sure to come back and let me know how it went.” She squeezed his arm before letting go.
“Sure thing.” With a smile stretching to full capacity, Wes hurried to the exam room to take care of the hook.
In no time, Wes had Dalma squared away and was back in Sophia’s office, telling her all about how Dalma had taken it upon herself to pull the hook out of her thumb once it was numb. The little lady told him he just needed to clean it up and wrap it tightly—and the doctor did as the ninety-year-old patient had instructed. Sophia laughed at his retelling until tears pooled in her vivid teal eyes.
Giving her that moment of freedom from all the heaviness she continuously carried around felt Herculean and only fueled him to want to do it more. Wes thought he owed it to her after Sophia had shared the warmth of her laughter on their fake date. It had woken something in Wes that had remained dormant for so long it seemed lost forever. Each time she’d laughed in his presence since, it breathed a little more life into the withered part of his soul that was supposed to hold hope.
For the first time since the day his life died, Wes began to give the notion of living again some serious thought.
9
The continual drift of daily living pushed Sophia to move forward, and she did so without protest. Getting through the ebb and flow of each day on autopilot, she constructed a carefully placed smile and offered polite words. Behind them was a scared, beaten-down woman screaming at the top of her lungs, begging to be released from the hopeless circumstances she’d been thrown into that had left her lost and confused as to who she was supposed to be.
The Sophia she used to be would never have agreed to an inane deal such as fake dating. She had needed the job, so she chose to go along with Wes’s request. But that choice, made in desperation, was beginning to resemble a pint of sour milk. It was only a small nuisance—until it spilled.
She was afraid it had spilled all over town. The rumor mill picked up on their first date, as well as them sitting together at church, and ran with it just as Wes had predicted. Folks were even talking about how sweet it was that Collin insisted on Wes walking him to children’s church. Sophia considered the fake-dating job done, so when he’d tried scheduling another date night the following week, she’d brushed him off with excuses that were as flimsy as a wet tissue but somehow held for two more weeks.
If Sophia thought Wes was going to react with anger and demands, she was surprisingly mistaken. For some reason, he let her get by with it. Probably because begging for a date was beneath him. Instead of arguing, he quietly sulked, and she sure as day didn’t know how to respond to that. She was used to raised voices and warning shoves. Not the silent treatment and the cold shoulder.
Even though Wes was annoyed with her, it didn’t deter him from presenting her with a cooler bag each morning. And each morning when Sophia tried refusing the offering, Wes responded with carefully slung comments that even though calmly spoken still left a considerable sting.
“A good mother takes care of herself for the sake of her child.”
&
nbsp; “Collin needs you to be a good example.”
“Neglecting your health isn’t fair to your son.”
And that’s all it would take to have Sophia snatching the bag out of his hand and stomping off. They kept their distance from each other most of the time, and as another Friday afternoon rolled around, she had every intention of keeping it that way.
The plan was to swing by his office on the way out and do a drop-and-dash with next week’s schedule, but one glimpse of Wes sidetracked her. She noticed his lab coat and tie had been removed and his caramel locks looked a bit disheveled. Running his hand through his hair toward the end of each day was a habit she picked up on. It reminded her of Collin. The little guy would twirl one of his curls around his finger when he was sleepy. But today Wes wore a look that didn’t quite suit him. More haggard than simply tired from a day’s work.
“Hey,” Sophia said softly.
Wes glanced up from the file he was scribbling in. Behind his designer glasses, she could clearly see pain tightening the corners of his hazel eyes. “Hi. May I help you?” His voice was polite, but his tone sounded bone-tired.
“I think the better question is, can I help you?” Sophia edged closer to his desk.
Wes dropped the pen and leaned back in his chair while tracking her movement. “Is that the schedule?” he asked, disregarding her question.
She handed him the paper. “I e-mailed you a few record-keeping choices. The last on the list is the same system your practice used back in Alabama. I included it in case you want to stick with something familiar. I can set up an installation for the one you pick by next week and start sorting this filing system.” She hoped that would help him in some small way.
“Great. I’ll review them tonight and let you know. It’ll be a big relief to get this filing system updated.” He plucked a file from the cluttered paperwork on his desk, looking similar to hers, and lifted it in the air before dropping it. “I’ve not dealt with these things since my residency years.”
Sophia placed her bag on a spare chair and sent her mother a quick text to let her know she would be late. She then grabbed another chair and slid it close to his desk.
“What are you doing?” Wes asked.
“We’re going to see about finishing off some of this work so you can get home at a decent time.” Sophia picked up a pen and swiped one of the files. “I pay attention, Dr. Sawyer, and I know you stay way too late each night.”
“I have nothing to go home to, so . . .” His eyes immediately dropped to the desk.
Sophia’s throat thickened as she watched him dive into another file to get away from the admission he’d just laid out there. Was that a clue as to what was bothering him?
They went through a few files before Sophia worked up enough nerve to speak. She didn’t know if it would hurt him worse, but the only diversion to come to mind was to start talking about Collin. “So I tried Collin on broccoli last night.”
Wes didn’t look up but his pen stilled. “How’d it go?”
“The little guy made it vanish.”
He lifted his head and finally met her gaze. “See. I told you he’d like it.”
“I didn’t say he liked it.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “After supper we played with his LEGO blocks and I started getting a whiff of something. I went to change his diaper and guess what was tucked inside?”
The tension around Wes’s eyes finally softened as he chuckled. “He’s too smart for his own good.”
Sophia snickered. “Tell me about it. At first glance, I thought something was wrong with him, but the only thing wrong was the little scoundrel filling his diaper with broccoli spears without me noticing.” Feeling a little more settled, she filled the next hour with more talk about Collin as they steadily worked until the desk was cleared.
Sophia picked up her bag and settled the strap on her shoulder. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you Monday.”
“Sunday. You’re still sitting with me in church, remember? Or are you backing out of that part of our agreement as well?” There was tease in his voice instead of the normal pompousness.
“Sunday then.” She crossed her arms but couldn’t keep the smile from curling her lips upward. “For someone who’s such a stickler on rules and proper etiquette, I’m surprised you find nothing wrong with deceiving people about us seeing each other.”
Wes simply waved the accusation off as he grabbed his coat and briefcase. “We’ve shared a meal and we sit together at church. No deception has taken place. If the town chooses to take our time together and misconstrue it into a relationship, then so be it.”
“You’re very cut-and-dried on things, Dr. Sawyer.” She raised an eyebrow.
He beckoned her to follow him out. “Less drama that way.”
She tilted her head and released a laugh. “Yeah, because fake dating is drama-free.” She waited for him to volley a snide remark in return. Instead, Wes stared at her as he locked the side door behind them. “What?”
Wes shook his head and began leading Sophia to her SUV. “That laugh of yours . . . it’s an experience.” He opened the driver’s door and helped her inside before leaning down slightly. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” Wes glanced over the roof and then lowered his eyes again. “I needed it today.”
“Are you okay?” Sophia asked as she snapped the seat belt into place.
The careful smile he wore wobbled before completely slipping from his handsome face. He propped his forehead on the arm he had resting on the roof of her SUV and slowly drew in a breath. “Some days, it just hits me out of nowhere . . . Today was one of them.”
Sophia reached to unlock the seat belt, but Wes placed his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s getting late. You need to get home to Collin.” Abruptly Wes closed the door and struck off toward his car.
From the time she’d spent with Wes, Sophia knew for certain he was genuinely a good man, but a lonely man who was in need of a firm support system. Sadly, she was only able to offer support riddled with weak spots. What little strength she had was all for Collin at the moment.
A muffled horn beeped and drew her attention. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Sophia realized Wes was waiting for her to exit first. She waved at him even though her instinct told her to put the car in park and make him open up to her. But if she wasn’t a willing participant in the opening up, then she certainly couldn’t expect him to be either.
•••
Saturday was bright and sunshiny. Thankfully a breeze kept the gnats at bay and the humidity from settling too thick around the seaside park where a dozen toddlers toddled around the play sets while their parents watched on.
“You could have called me, dear. I would have pitched in to make this more of a special event for our Collin,” Ty’s mother commented as she glared down her nose at the cheese doodles and juice boxes.
Sophia pushed the number 3 candle into the tractor-themed cake with a bit too much force, burying the bottom of it in buttercream. She had to discreetly pull it back out slightly, but there was no fixing it. Each time she tried, it leaned more to the left and got more green icing smeared on it. “It’s fine, Helen. This is what Collin requested.” Ever since they’d moved back and Collin had spent time on her family’s small farm, the little guy had become obsessed with tractors.
“He’s three, dear. He doesn’t know what he wants.” Ty’s mother flicked the notion away as if it were a pesky fly. She’d flown in the night before from Atlanta and chosen to stay at a hotel instead of the offered guest room at Sophia’s. She explained that Ty couldn’t make it, but she’d brought his gifts for Collin. Collin began to fall to pieces when Sophia tried to explain this to him earlier in the morning.
“I no wan’ toys. Jus’ my daddy. Pease, Mommy.” Collin cried and begged, but there was nothing Sophia could do about it.
Needless to say, Collin had one of the biggest meltdowns he’d had in quite a while. It took Lincoln Cole, of all people, to pull the littl
e guy out of it when he showed up with his dad’s German shepherd, after Sophia called Opal in a panic. Lincoln explained he was dog-sitting for his parents while they were on a cruise, and he needed Collin to help him walk the dog. And just like that, a burly man and a shaggy dog soothed him. Sophia had made a silent vow to never pinch Lincoln Cole again.
“Did you hear me, Sophia?” Mrs. Prescott asked in a cutting tone.
Blinking the dreadful morning away, Sophia regarded the woman who thought the world revolved around her NFL player son. “I’m sorry, Helen. What was that?”
“Could you please get on with the gifts? I have a plane to catch this afternoon.” Mrs. Prescott fanned her face with her hand while dabbing a napkin along her neck. She was dressed in a white pantsuit and actually had the nerve to keep giving Sophia’s shorts and sleeveless blouse once-overs as if she were the one who didn’t know how to properly dress during the dog days of summer.
“Yes, ma’am. As soon as we sing and he blows out the candle.” Sophia gave her a tight smile before hurrying off to gather the children.
Once the song was concluded and the candle blown out, Sophia handed Collin her gift first. The little guy beamed when he tore the paper and found the green plastic tractor under it.
“Yay! I pay now.” Collin tried wiggling away, already making put-put-put noises like a tractor, but Sophia managed to wrangle him back to the mountain of gifts.
“You have more to open first, bub.”
Collin was a good sport and opened the gifts from his little friends. He then opened box after box of outfits from Grandmother Prescott. Laughter moved through the parents when after catching a glimpse of clothing, Collin was quick to toss the boxes aside.
It was fun until Collin began opening the gifts from his daddy. The first gift annoyed Sophia, but by the time the little guy opened the last, she was livid.
“What three-year-old has any business with a cell phone?” Sophia asked later that day as she plopped down on the edge of the golf course with Opal and Josie settling underneath the shade tree beside her. They’d arrived to help her unload the ludicrous bounty of gifts at the condo but had stuck around to let her vent. She happily took them up on it.
