A DOCTOR'S VOW

by Christine Rimmer

  With a sigh, Ronni reached for a towel, dried her hands and tried to decide how to reply to that remark, given that any second now, Drew would be popping back in to pitch his grandmother his fund-raising scheme.

  "Lily." Ronni spoke low, taking care that her words wouldn't carry to the other room. "It so happens I didn't come here tonight to see Ryan." Lily made a little harrumphing sound as she grabbed a handful of flatware. Ronni made herself go on. "Although I do care for him. Deeply."

  Lily turned on Ronni, the flatware still clutched in her hand, fork prongs and knife points out. "I trust you'll inform me, if any … important decisions are made?"

  "Well, of course. We—"

  "Then, fine. Until that happens, I really don't think what goes on between you and my son-in-law is any of my concern." She turned back to the sink.

  "But, Lily—"

  "Shh. Drew."

  Ronni glanced toward the door to the family room. Sure enough. There he was, wearing a big, nervous smile. "You're whispering. Did you tell her already?"

  Lily dropped the flatware into the basket, pushed in the rack and firmly shut the dishwasher door. "Tell me what?" She was scowling.

  Drew's eyes widened. He looked askance at his grandmother, then turned to Ronni again. "She's mad?"

  Lily made another of those harrumphing sounds. "I am not mad, young man. And haven't I taught you that it's rude to speak of others as though they weren't in the room?"

  Drew stubbed the floor with his shoe. "Sorry. Sheesh."

  Ronni rushed into the breach. "Lily. Drew has something important to talk to you about."

  Lily was drying her hands. "What?" She hung the towel back on the rack.

  Ronni smiled encouragingly at Drew. "Go on. Tell her what you told me."

  Lily looked more closely at her grandson. Her pinched expression softened. "Something important, is it?"

  Drew chewed his lower lip and nodded.

  Lily sighed. "Come on. Let's sit down." The three of them pulled out chairs and settled in at the big breakfast table. "Now," Lily said, "tell me what's on your mind, Andrew."

  Drew launched into the same spiel he'd given Ronni at the guest house. Lily let him say it all without interrupting. When he was finished, she looked at Ronni. "Have you told Drew you would help him, then?"

  "I told him we would talk to you, get your opinion—and then I'd decide."

  "So, you'll help him if I give the okay?"

  "Yes, I'd be proud to."

  "But how will you realistically find the time for it?"

  "As Drew pointed out, I do have some time on the weekends. And that's when he wants to do it. I can manage."

  "You're sure?"

  Ronni couldn't help but admire Lily right then. In spite of the older woman's exasperating determination to keep Ronni at a distance, she could still see the value of her grandson's proposal. She wanted him to have the satisfaction of doing this thing.

  "I'm positive," Ronni said. "And I'll be willing to contact Superserve Mart to get their permission to set up a table. And I'll call around. I'm sure we can find some posters and official-looking donation jars to put on the table."

  "This is … very good of you," Lily said.

  "Grandma." Drew was squirming in his chair. "Come on. Please say yes."

  And Lily said, "All right. It's a lovely idea and I'm proud of you for wanting to do it."

  It was after eleven when Ryan came to Ronni that night. The little house was dark.

  He let himself in with a spare key. They were past the point where she expected him to knock.

  He locked the door behind himself and she called to him in a sleepy whisper from the bed. "Ryan?"

  He stalked across the carpet, taking off his clothes as he went. When he reached the bedside, he finished undressing, tossed everything toward the corner chair and slid in beside her.

  He gathered her close. She was so warm and soft and she smelled of soap and that special light fragrance she always wore. She shivered at the contact with his cooler skin. "Brr…"

  "Warm me up."

  She cuddled closer. He felt her breasts, the taut peaks brushing his chest. She slipped a leg between his. The endless chain of meetings he'd held that day, the speech that night at the Lions Club, all of it seemed blessedly far away right then.

  That past week, he'd driven himself like a man possessed. He kept his attitude positive, his mind open and his eyes on the prize. He had made a promise to see the damn wing to completion by September. He would keep that promise or kill himself trying.

  Every waking moment was spent focused on the job he had to do.

  Except when he was here with Ronni.

  With Ronni, for a few brief hours, he didn't have to do anything but feel, but touch and be touched. He didn't have to listen.

  And he didn't have to hear himself talk.

  She was his haven. Whenever he started thinking that he couldn't sit still for one more money-raising suggestion or get up in front of one more group and announce enthusiastically, "Look how far we've come…" Whenever it all seemed impossible, he would think of her. Of her cradling arms and tender kisses, of her wise and understanding eyes.

  He tipped her chin up and kissed her. She sighed.

  He ran his hand down over the silky curve of her back, cupped her bottom and pulled her up tight. He was hard, aching for her.

  She moaned. He deepened the kiss, trailing his hand over the curve of her hip, seeking the sweet secrets between her slim thighs.

  She murmured his name again as he touched her, pushing her hips up toward him, offering him all that he longed for, all he that needed: an explosion of pure sensation. Total release. And then peace.

  A little later, she tried to talk to him. Something about Lily. She'd had dinner over at the main house. Roast beef, she said.

  "That's nice," he muttered. Sleep was pulling him down.

  "Ryan, about Lily…"

  "Um?"

  "She's not … happy, about you and me. She resents me, and I think it's really something you and I should… Ryan? Are you listening?"

  He smoothed her hair.

  "You're going to sleep, aren't you?"

  "So tired…"

  "Ryan?"

  He forced his eyes open, squinted at her through the darkness. "Um? What? About Lily…?"

  She was still for a moment. Then she kissed his shoulder. "Never mind. Go to sleep."

  His eyelids drooped again. He knew that he should keep them open, that they did have to talk about Lily. They had to talk about so many things.

  Talk. That was all he did all day…

  Talk, talk, talk, talk.

  "I know," he heard himself whisper. "We have to talk…"

  And she whispered back, "It's all right. We will. Later. You go on to sleep."

  Sleep. A beautiful word.

  He smiled and gave up the effort to keep his eyes open.

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  « ^ »

  The next day, Ronni contacted Superserve Mart and got permission to set up a table near their front doors. From her office, she called Maggie MacAllister, whom Marty Heber had said might be able to help her find the materials she and Drew needed. Maggie met her at Children's Hospital at one and gave her three big Save Our New Wing jars, a couple of "official fund-raiser" lapel pins and two stand-up posters.

  At three that afternoon, she and Drew were all set up in front of the store, shivering in their heavy jackets. By five, when they closed up shop, Drew had become adorably adroit at marching up to perfect strangers and asking them for "Just a dollar, or fifty cents, or a quarter. We can really use whatever you can give…"

  They raised forty-eight dollars and twenty-seven cents. Drew was ecstatic. They drove home at five and he chattered the whole way.

  "If we do that every time," he said, "every Saturday and Sunday, that's…" Ronni took her gaze off the road long enough to cast him a glance. He was frowning, fiercely calculating. "Forty-eight and fort
y-eight. Ninety-six. Ninety-six dollars and fifty-four cents a week. Wow. Almost a hundred dollars a week, Ronni! In a month, we could have five hundred. And in two months, we might get a thousand! Jeez, if we could get a thousand! Wouldn't Dad be proud of us?"

  She was feeling that urge to hug him again. "Oh, yes, he will be. Very proud."

  "This is somethin', Ronni. This rules. And I really think it helped to have a real doctor there, even though it was kinda hard to see your lab coat under your big jacket. But I think they could see the stethoscope."

  "Oh, yes. I'm sure the stethoscope worked wonders. But the most important element was you."

  "It was?"

  "Yep. You were … indefatigable."

  "I was?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Uh … what's indefa … you know."

  "Indefatigable. That means untiring. You knew what you had to do and you did it. Without slowing down or acting tired. For two whole hours."

  "Indefatigable." Drew savored the word. "Never getting tired. That's how you just have to be sometimes. Like my dad."

  Like my dad…

  A small, tight band of wistfulness seemed to wrap around Ronni's heart. She remembered the night before, how desperate and hungry Ryan's kisses had been—and how total his exhaustion later. He was driving himself so hard now—too hard, really. Every day, he worked until he had nothing left to give.

  It wouldn't always be this way. She knew that. But still, she was starting to worry about him a little, even to worry about the two of them, about how in the world they would move on from here. Now that he was so driven to keep his promise about the new wing, it seemed they never talked anymore. He came to her so late. They made love. And they stole a few hours of sleep. She hungered for nights like those first ones again, when they had talked and laughed for hours on end.

  At the same time, she understood that it would be unfair to push him too much to open up to her now. She really had to be patient, to let him get through this.

  There would be time, in the future, to say the things that needed saying. She had to remember that.

  And what if you're pregnant? a harsh mental voice demanded. You're going to have to do a little pushing, then.

  "Ronni?"

  She ordered the nagging worry to leave her alone. "Hmm?"

  "You better keep all our stuff—and the money—at the little house, where Dad won't see it."

  "All right." The card table they'd used was hers, anyway. And the rest, she could stick in the back of the bedroom closet. Ryan would be unlikely to look in there.

  Drew let out a long whoosh of a breath. "Tomorrow, I hope we make as much as today—or even more."

  "Me, too."

  "I wish we could set up the table on Monday."

  "That's a no-go, and you know it. I have to work. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you have school."

  "Well, I was just wishing, you know?"

  "Wishing. Yes, I do know."

  "Ronni?"

  "Yes?"

  "You rule."

  She glanced over, smiled at him, felt a flush of pleasure at such high praise. "Thank you."

  "I hope you and my dad get married, Ronni."

  Her throat felt tight. She swallowed—and swung her gaze back to the road before she got them in an accident.

  "Did you hear me, Ronni?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Are you and my dad getting married?"

  "I … hope so."

  "Did he ask you yet?"

  "Drew, this is something that…"

  "What?"

  "Something that your father and I have to talk about ourselves, before we can talk about it with you."

  "Well, when will you talk about it?"

  I wish I knew. "Drew…"

  "Oh, all right. I get the message. I'm being annoying."

  She smiled at that. "Not annoying so much. You're just … asking questions I can't answer right now."

  He was silent, then he said, "Ronni?"

  "What?"

  "I still think you rule."

  The next day, it rained. Ronni sat at the card table, huddled in her trench coat under the overhang in front of the supermarket as Drew approached one shopper after another. People seemed more impatient than they had the day before, in more of a hurry. No one seemed to want to linger out in the rain long enough to pull some change from a pocket and toss it in the jar for a good cause. But Drew didn't give up. When they counted the take at five, they had thirty-seven dollars and nine cents.

  "Not as good as yesterday," Drew said, looking a little glum.

  "Hey, it's thirty-seven dollars and nine cents more than you would have had if we hadn't come out here at all."

  Drew brightened a little and agreed that was so.

  By the time they got home, the rain had stopped. Ronni made a point to drop in at the main house for a few minutes. They found Lily in the kitchen at the counter, several bundles of cut flowers spread out on newspaper in front of her and a row of crystal vases waiting to be filled nearby.

  "Hi, Grandma, we're home!" Drew headed straight for the stairs to his room.

  "How did you do today?" Lily asked his retreating back.

  "Not as good as yesterday. Thirty-seven dollars and nine cents." He called that from the central hall. Ronni could hear him start up the stairs.

  Lily shrugged, picked up a carnation and began stripping away the lower leaves. "That sounds pretty good to me."

  "Yes," Ronni said. "I thought so, too—listen, are the other two kids upstairs?"

  Lily considered her row of vases, chose one, pulled it in front of her and set the lone carnation in it. She reached for a sprig of greenery. "Yes, they are."

  "I think I'll just run up and say hi."

  Lily shot her a look, then shrugged again. "Suit yourself. Once you get past the landing into the upper hall, Lisbeth's door is the first one on the left. Griffin's is right next to it."

  Upstairs, in Lisbeth's pretty mint-green-and-white room, Ronni was introduced to Bead Blast Barbie. A few minutes later, she proceeded down the hall to Griffin's room, where he showed her his latest creation made of Duplo blocks.

  "It's a castle!" he told her. He pointed at a ramp made of green oblong blocks. "That's how you get in! And when you get in, you might never get out!"

  "Sounds scary." Ronni pretended to shiver.

  Griff let out a monster laugh. "Ha-ha-ha! It is!"

  Back downstairs, Lily was still arranging flowers. She'd filled two of the vases with bright blooms and feathery fern branches.

  "They look beautiful, Lily."

  "The truth is, there's absolutely no substitute for fresh-cut flowers in the house. Yes, they are expensive. And doing the arranging takes time. But they provide that special, extra accent that tells the world a woman cares. Patricia always said so."

  "Patricia was right."

  "Well, of course she was."

  On Tuesday evening of the week that followed, Ronni stopped at the main house for another visit with the children before she settled in at the guest house.

  Lily treated her with distant courtesy, as if she were some stranger who'd dropped in unannounced, someone who got the benefit of her hostess's good manners, and nothing else. Ronni gritted her teeth and bore it. At least the kids seemed glad to see her.

  Wednesday, after she'd made her rounds at Children's Hospital, Ronni checked in at her condo, where she found everything as it should be.

  The wallpaper had been hung in the kitchen, the baths and the master bedroom. The other rooms had been textured and painted. The carpets were in, the floors laid, the appliances in place. The wood blinds had been installed that day.

  It was all ready for her to move her things in.

  She sat on the pale Berber carpet in the bright living room and felt just a little bit sad.

  If things went as she hoped, she'd never live here—in her own single-woman version of a dream home. She should probably start making arrangements to sell it.

&nb
sp; But then, with nothing really decided between her and Ryan, contacting a Realtor felt just a tiny bit premature.

  No, she wouldn't do anything right now. She got up off the floor, turned off the lights and let herself out the front door.

  That night, when Ryan came to her, they made love as they always did. And then afterward, for once, they did talk just a little.

  Ronni explained how she'd been making an effort to spend time with the children—and that Lily was less than enthusiastic about her presence in the main house.

  "She's not welcoming me with open arms, Ryan. You have to know that. She never misses an opportunity to ask me when my condo will be ready—so that I can move out and away from you."

  Anger made his eyes ice-blue. "She said that?"

  "Not in so many words, but—"

  He pulled her close. "I know, it's awkward. And hard on you. I'll talk to her."

  She pushed away enough that she could look at him. "Oh, Ryan. Until we figure out where we're going together, there really isn't much to say to her. She's polite to me. And she never tries to stop me from seeing the kids. It's not an intolerable situation. And it won't be … up to the point that she and I try to live under the same roof together. Then I think it would become just about unbearable, unless she made a drastic attitude adjustment."

  Ryan cupped her face, kissed the tip of her nose—and thought about what she'd just said.

  Until we figure out where we're going together… An important subject, one he knew begged for discussion.

  And he intended to discuss it. Very soon.

  But now, he needed to get Tanner back in the black, to get construction started up again on the new wing. As soon as he got a little breathing room, as soon as he could take his concentration off the whole scary house of cards that was his fund-raising scheme, then they could talk about the future. Then they would tackle the formidable problem of what to do about Lily.

  Then he could relax a little, let down his guard a little, give Ronni the time and real attention she deserved.

  He pulled her close again.

  Ronni snuggled her head into the curve of his shoulder—and almost said it: Ryan, my condo is ready…