The Choices I've Made

by J. L. Berg

  I sighed again, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m fine, Mama. Really.”

  “You’ve been through hell and back this week. And Dottie said he’s not talking? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I honestly didn’t want to worry you. I’m sure it’s nothing. Shock or something. He’ll be back to normal in no time.”

  She gave me a sad sort of stare. Even she knew I was lying to myself.

  “Have you been sleeping? You look exhausted.”

  “Thanks.” I laughed. “You look pretty special yourself.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said, placing a hand on her hip as she continued her relentless inventory of the kitchen.

  “I do, and I’m managing. It’s just been a lot.”

  Her eyes softened. “I know. But you don’t need to take the brunt of everything on yourself. You can ask for help. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

  “I know, and I have. Mr. Lovell went out for supplies yesterday.”

  “Good,” she replied. “That’s good. He and his wife have always been like family.”

  Smiling, I nodded. “I know.”

  She could see my attention was wavering as I began my mental list of everything that needed to be done. Linens had to be washed, the floors were due for a serious cleaning, and I couldn’t forget about the gardening.

  “Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to trust you have everything under control.”

  “I do.”

  She didn’t look convinced as she continued, “And you’ll let me know if you need anything? Remember, we’re only—”

  “A phone call away. I got it.”

  Her eyes lingered on mine. The big, concerned eyes of a mother. I was about to reassure her once again. Anything to get her out of my kitchen.

  Until I saw her gaze shift and her eyes widen as heavy footsteps sounded behind me.

  The night before came back with a vengeance.

  My drunk ex showing up at my door. The way he’d stumbled in like he lived here, begging for a place to stay.

  The anger.

  The heat.

  The vomit.

  “Good morning, Mrs. McIntyre,” Jake said casually as my mother’s mouth fell open.

  “Good morning, Jake. Or is it Dr. Jameson now? Long time no see.” Her words were sweet as sugar, but the steely glare she shot me was anything but.

  “Just Jake is fine. Sorry to interrupt,” he said, obviously noticing the tension between us. “Thought I could sneak in the kitchen, undetected. I just wanted to grab a quick cup of coffee before I headed into town.”

  “Of course. Help yourself.”

  I finally turned toward him. The slight swivel of my hips felt like a monumental task. The moment my eyes met his, I felt a lump in my throat too big to swallow.

  No wonder my mom was frozen in place.

  As both of us watched the hot mess of a man head toward the coffee pot, I felt my eyes lingering over every inch. Every naked inch. He was dressed in only a thin pair of boxer shorts, and I could see every hard line of his stomach, the curve of his hips, and every mesmerizing inch of his broad shoulders.

  Good God, he’d aged well.

  I blinked, realizing my blatant gawking and how incredibly inappropriate it was.

  “Jake is staying here while he gets set up at the clinic,” I said swiftly, feeling less like the savvy engaged businesswoman I was and more like a guilty teen getting caught with a boy in her room.

  “Mmhmm,” was all she said as she made her exit.

  I quickly followed behind, having to jog to catch up. She was already halfway to her car by the time I reached her.

  “You’re playing with fire, Molly.”

  I huffed. “What was I supposed to do, Mom? He showed up here, completely wrecked over his father’s death. I couldn’t turn him away.”

  “Of course you could have!” she nearly yelled. “You’ve had a soft spot for that boy since the moment you laid eyes on him, and while I understand why, do I need to remind you that your fiancé is hurt and alone—”

  Anger boiled in my veins. “That’s out of line, Mama, and you know it. I know exactly where Dean is. Jake is a nonissue for me. I blew out that torch I had carried for him a long time ago.”

  She nodded, deflating slightly, but I could still see the worry in her bright blue eyes.

  Her hands found mine. “Take care of yourself, will you, darling? And decide where your heart lies before others get broken. Including yours.”

  I took a deep breath before answering, “Yes, Mama.”

  She got into her car, the one I’d helped her pick out years earlier. It’d been an especially warm afternoon in February. We’d made a day of it after her fifteen-year-old Honda kicked the bucket. I still remembered her squeal of glee when they’d handed her the keys. My mama was a thrifty person, never doing anything for herself, due to the fear of a small business owner. On anniversaries, Daddy would take her out to a nice dinner, and they’d dance on the back patio, overlooking the water. But nothing more.

  I hadn’t fallen far from the tree, as they’d instilled that frugality in me. It was why I couldn’t nail anything down for our wedding, scared to take any money out of my small savings to buy something as extravagant as a dress.

  It had nothing to do with the half-naked man standing in my kitchen.

  Nothing.

  And I’d be damned if anyone thought otherwise.

  By the time I made it back inside, the fury inside me was raging. As I marched into the kitchen, it only grew when I found the large space empty of my intended target. Stomping up the stairs, knowing the Lovells were thankfully in the third-floor suite and couldn’t hear my childish behavior, I went straight for the yellow room.

  Not bothering to knock, I shoved the door open and let him have it.

  “How dare you walk around here like you own the damn place! Did you even think first before traipsing down here in your damn underwear, Jake? Do you ever? It’s a goddamn wonder you even made it through medical school.”

  “Top of my class actually,” he said calmly, seeming completely unfazed by my unexpected appearance.

  His cool demeanor caught me off guard, and the epic rant I’d prepared for him faltered. I watched as he moved around the room, pulling on a pair of pants and a loose T-shirt, as if my presence were completely normal.

  As if nothing had changed between us.

  Except that everything had changed.

  The mere thought of it had my anger abating into something closer to exhaustion. The room began to sway.

  He immediately noticed the change in me, moving swiftly to my side. “You need to sit down,” he said, his deep voice radiating through my entire body.

  “No, I just need you to not strut around my house in your boxers.”

  “I was not strutting. And, yes, you do need to sit down. You’re dead on your feet. Believe me, I know that look.”

  “Don’t get all doctory on me. I’m not one of your patients. Or your friend. This,” I said, making a motion between us, “isn’t a thing. You are simply another guest, okay?”

  A slight smirk formed on the corner of his mouth. “Got it.”

  “Good. Now, excuse me. I have things to do.”

  He gestured toward the door as I tried not to stare at the stubble forming around his chin.

  “By all means.”

  I rolled my eyes, storming out of the yellow room while silently calling him every rude name I could think of.

  In alphabetical order.

  I reached F halfway down the stairs and was feeling mighty proud of myself.

  Until my foot slipped, and my butt hit the hard corner of the oak step. I screamed, “Fuck!” as pain radiated from my turned ankle.

  Familiar footsteps sounded behind me seconds before I heard Jake say rather smugly, “Guess you’ll be needing those doctory skills of mine after all?”

  My mental list reached P for prick by the time he knelt at my side.

  So much for
a grand exit.

  “SO, I’LL ADMIT, WALKING AROUND the inn in my boxers probably wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve had,” I said to Molly as I carefully carried her into the sitting room.

  That had been a feat in its own right, considering how much effort it had taken to talk her into letting me pick her up.

  “No,” she’d said firmly.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just leave you on the steps.”

  “Fine.” She’d pouted.

  Until I’d begun to walk away, and she’d realized her predicament.

  It wasn’t exactly a cakewalk for me either. Feeling her smooth skin beneath my fingers as her arm wrapped around my neck—a feeling I’d never forgotten.

  Every molecule in my body was on fire.

  But she wasn’t mine.

  The slim gold engagement ring on her left hand made that crystal clear.

  I set her down on the sofa that I had occupied only a night before, drunk off my ass, as I begged her to take me in.

  Not my finest hour.

  “Put your foot up on these,” I instructed, grabbing several throw pillows and neatly stacking them on the coffee table.

  She did as instructed, her eyes never wavering from me.

  “Your mama always said you’d suffer the consequences of those stairs for all the years you flew down them.”

  Her arms wrapped around her middle. “Shut up.”

  “I could always call her,” I suggested. “Maybe she’ll be able to help you with this ankle. I mean, what do I know? It’s a wonder I even made it through medical school.”

  “Don’t you dare, Jake Morgan Jameson. God, I hate you,” she muttered.

  “Don’t call me by my middle name,” I fired back. “And, no, you don’t. Otherwise, you would have slammed that door in my face rather than letting me stay.”

  Her eyes rolled—something I’d nearly memorized after the number of times I’d seen it. “Not like you gave me much of a choice.”

  My eyes met hers. “There’s always a choice, Molly. Always.”

  “Look, could you just focus on my foot, so I can get going? Some of us actually have things to do.”

  I grinned, loving the sass she was sending my way.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, trying to keep from chuckling.

  Kneeling next to the coffee table, I took a closer look, spotting some swelling already beginning to form around her anklebone. Slight bruising could be seen as well.

  “Can you move it?” I asked as my fingers inspected the structure, checking for any possible breaks.

  “No, not well,” she admitted.

  “I don’t think it’s broken,” I said, “but I can’t be sure without an X-ray. I know someone who might be able to arrange that for you.”

  “Are you serious?” she said. “Is this some kind of joke to you, Jake? This is my business. I have a list a mile long for today, people who depend on me.”

  Anger boiled to the surface. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last twelve years, Mols? Sitting around? No! I’ve been working my fucking ass off. Every day. For twelve years. So, don’t think I don’t understand hard work and commitment. You need a goddamn X-ray.”

  My firm tone obviously struck a chord as her once-rigid posture faded, and she leaned back into the seat cushions.

  “Fine,” she relented, her arms still firmly across her chest.

  I could see she wanted to say more, as if the words were hanging on the tip of her tongue. But she obviously reconsidered, turning her head from my heated stare.

  “I’ll go get the car,” I mumbled, hating this situation more and more.

  Why had I decided this was a good idea?

  Oh, right. The bourbon.

  But even I knew that was a lie. I’d made the choice to come here long before I spent the night with a bottle of whiskey. If faced with the same decision, I’d make it again.

  Because this was home as much as the faded blue house.

  The only difference?

  One wasn’t filled with the haunting memories of a life long gone.

  Or was it?

  I hadn’t planned on walking through the familiar doors of the clinic until Monday. Taking advantage of the Closed sign on the front door, I’d hoped to slowly ease into this brief chapter of my life.

  With care.

  And a whole bunch of brooding during the days leading up to it.

  Instead, I had a hobbling woman clinging to my shoulder while simultaneously grumbling under her breath about how this was all my fault, and if I’d just stayed away, she could be pruning her rose bushes at this very moment.

  “I thought you hated gardening,” I said as I rummaged for the key that had been sent to me by my father’s lawyer. Although there hadn’t been an official reading of the will, I understood the gist of it.

  All of this was mine now.

  The building, the equipment…

  The burden.

  All mine. For the time being at least.

  “I do,” she finally answered.

  I shifted around, trying not to let go of her while I unlocked the small medical office. “Then, why do you do it? Couldn’t you just pawn it off on someone else? Like a landscaper?”

  “Couldn’t you just pawn off your consultations? To a nurse? Or an underling doctor?”

  I shrugged. “Touché.”

  “Not all of us can be heart surgeons, but it doesn’t mean what I do isn’t important.”

  I froze, turning toward her. “I never said it wasn’t,” I said. “I think what you do is very important. I always have.”

  Her gaze shifted. “Oh,” she answered sheepishly. “Good.”

  “How’d you know what I did?” I asked, feeling a smile tug at the corner of my mouth at the mere thought that she’d been keeping tabs on me all these years.

  “Your dad,” she replied. “He never gave up hope that you’d return. He never stopped being proud.”

  I twisted back around, forcing the door open, as I cleared my throat. “Well, it looks like he got his wish,” I said under my breath.

  “No one forced you to come back here, Jake,” she said as we walked slowly back to the X-ray machine, my arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

  Although I hadn’t been here in years, the place still looked the same. Sure, some upgrades had been made. New flooring and upgraded computers, but it still felt the same, smelled the same.

  “You’d think that, but it’s funny how family guilt can get a man running back to his roots.”

  “Because it’s such a horrible place to be,” she said snidely.

  We reached the door leading to the X-ray machine, passing the few exam rooms that made up the clinic.

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It was clear how you felt by your actions.”

  I let out a heavy sigh as I helped her onto the table.

  “Less than twenty-four hours, and we’re back to the same argument we were stuck on twelve years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m not stuck,” she insisted as those stubborn arms of hers folded in front of her. “I’ve moved on.”

  Adjusting her foot, I felt my own eyes roll around my head. “Obviously.”

  A palpable silence between us followed. I shifted her ankle around, trying not to hurt her any further, while she sat completely still, staring at the bland white wall in front of her.

  Grabbing the heavy lead vest from the closet, I paused, realizing what I had to do next.

  Clearing my throat, I tried my damnedest to get into the zone. The one where people became patients and nothing more.

  But, seeing Molly’s face, the obvious annoyance splashed across it and how hard she was trying to ignore me, I knew any semblance of professionalism was out the door.

  But I tried anyway.

  “Any chance you’re pregnant?” I said as casually as possible, placing the vest across her chest and abdomen after she moved her arms.

  Her eyes immediately darted toward mine. “Ex
cuse me?”

  My lips pursed together as I held my hands up in the air, defending my innocence. “I have to ask,” I explained, “before I can run the films.”

  She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “It’s a no, Jake. Do you have any more invasive questions?”

  “Nope, just the one.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Don’t move.”

  “Kind of impossible with this heavy thing lying on me.”

  I wanted to add some snarky comment but chose the righteous path for once, vacating the room to capture the images of her ankle. It took only a few seconds, and I returned once more, finding Molly in the exact position I’d left her.

  And pissed, as usual.

  I, on the other hand, was considering which show tune to whistle. I didn’t know why, but hearing how sure she’d been about an impending pregnancy had me feeling lighter.

  Happier.

  Were there problems in paradise for Molly and my former best friend? Because the girl I had known way back when wouldn’t have been so sure. Even when we had been careful, which was ninety-nine percent of the time, she would still be paranoid.

  The yellow walls came back into focus as my body fell limp against the sweat-stained sheets.

  “Holy shit,” I managed to say as my lungs worked overtime, trying to catch up with the rest of my exhausted body.

  “You can say that again.” Molly laughed, curling into my side.

  “I thought you said we’d never do it in your parents’ house.”

  Her nose nuzzled into my chest while I drew tiny circles along her bare back.

  “I guess you have a way of changing my mind.”

  “Doing it on a bed sure beats the back of my truck.”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Making love under the stars is pretty epic.”

  “Everything with you is epic.”

  We enjoyed the few minutes of alone time, talking and cuddling, in the empty guest room we’d stolen for the afternoon. Molly’s parents would be home in a while, having caught the morning ferry to grab supplies for the inn.

  “What would you do if I got pregnant?” she said after a moment of silence.

  I froze, before rising up on my side. “What kind of question is that?” I asked, scanning her body like I expected some sort of telltale sign of motherhood.