The Doctor and the Single Mom

by Teresa Southwick

  What other choice did she have? “Yes.”

  “That’s my girl.” Hildie reached over and patted her hand. “Do you need me to stay?”

  “No. It’s getting late.”

  “Tell me about it. Brew’s dinner is not going to be on time tonight.” She glanced at Adam as if he were personally responsible.

  He smiled, but it looked tired around the edges. “Don’t forget to have that prescription filled, Mrs. Smith.”

  “Are you sick?” Jill asked the older woman.

  “No.” There was a defensiveness in her voice. “Just out of sorts. I swear there’s a pill these days for everything from putting you to sleep to helping a man perform.”

  Adam laughed. “Some of them actually improve your quality of life. I promise the one I prescribed will do that for you.”

  “Uh-huh.” Clearly Hildie wasn’t convinced.

  “And I’d like to see you for a follow-up.” Obviously he wasn’t easily intimidated.

  “I’ll make an appointment if you’re still here,” she said skeptically.

  Jill didn’t miss the way Adam’s mouth pulled tight, and it was the first time she’d seen any sign that even subtle comparisons with the last doctor irritated him.

  Still his voice was nothing but pleasant when he said, “Then go ahead and make the appointment now. Save yourself a phone call.”

  Hildie sniffed, and then her face softened when she looked at C.J. “Be a brave boy. Next time you stay with Brew and me I’ll bake your favorite cookies.”

  “The white ones?” As opposed to chocolate chip, which were brown, or the oatmeal raisin variety that he called bumpy.

  “Of course.”

  “Can I help?”

  “You always do,” Hildie said.

  “But this time I want to roll out the dough. And put on a whole bunch of sprinkles.”

  “It’s a deal.” The older woman leaned down and gently kissed his forehead, then said to Jill, “Call me when you get home. Let me know how everything goes.”

  “I will.”

  Adam cleared his throat. “Follow me, champ.”

  “Can’t you just look at it right here?” C.J. glanced apprehensively at the doorway that led to the exam rooms. “Maybe I don’t need stitches. Then Mommy can just put on the anny bactria cream and a superhero Band-Aid.”

  “He doesn’t like going into the room,” Adam said, meeting her gaze.

  Jill nodded. “The clinic is not his favorite place.”

  “I can understand that.” Adam squatted down and talked directly to C.J. “I could take a look at it here, but the other room has a big light and everything else I need to take good care of you.”

  “Do I hafta go?” he asked Jill.

  “’Fraid so, buddy.” She met Adam’s gaze and her heart tripped up for reasons that had nothing to do with her son and everything to do with memories of their mouths devouring each other. What kind of mother was she, thinking stuff like that at a time like this?

  “How about if I give you a lift?” Adam offered, holding out his arms.

  C.J. hesitated for several moments, then said, “I guess.”

  The doctor picked him up as if he weighed nothing, but Jill knew that wasn’t the case. It made her sad that this child she’d easily carried around as an infant was getting too heavy for her to lift at all.

  Jill followed them down the hall, the tall, broad-shouldered man in the white lab coat carrying the small boy who had one arm around the strong neck. They went into the first room on the right, where Adam set him down on the paper-covered table. She stood beside her son while Adam washed his hands and then pulled disposable gloves from the box on the counter by the sink.

  “Okay, champ, let’s have a look.”

  Those were the magic words that set off her child’s classic, clichéd redheaded stubbornness. This time it was fueled by fear. “No. No. Don’t touch it.”

  “I won’t.” Adam folded his arms over his chest. “Not until you’re ready.”

  “It’s gonna hurt. I wanna go home,” he wailed.

  Jill squeezed his shoulder. “Soon, C.J. Just hold still.”

  “I can’t. I don’t wanna hold still.”

  A look slid into Adam’s face as he studied the tantrum-throwing, terror-stricken child. “C.J., have you ever had stitches before?”

  Jill was about to answer, but something about the way the doctor was talking directly to her son stopped her. She’d step in if necessary, but maybe the little boy needed to feel as if he was in control.

  “C.J.?” Adam prompted.

  He nodded. “My knee. I fell on a sprinkler. The other doctor said it wouldn’t hurt. But it did. Then Mommy had to change the bandage and she poured watery stuff on it. I looked and it was gross. I told her I was gonna throw up.”

  “He did warn me,” she confirmed. “And he was telling the truth.”

  “Apparently your son is more honest than the other doctor.” His mouth pulled tight and his eyes flashed with anger, but none of that was obvious in his calm voice. “Okay, C.J. Here’s the deal.”

  “I don’t want any needles.”

  “I can’t promise anything until you let me look.”

  “Just look?” the little guy asked skeptically.

  “Yes, then we’ll talk.”

  Without a word he slowly lowered the towel from his chin. Jill was standing to the side and could only see the dried blood. Adam moved close enough to inspect the injury.

  “What happened?” he asked, looking it over carefully, his arms still folded over his chest. The posture was completely nonthreatening.

  “I was runnin’ on the front porch and fell. I hit my chin.”

  “On that old rocking chair?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah. The one Mommy got at the garage sale to fix up.”

  “That rocker isn’t all that needs fixing. Your mom is right,” Adam said seriously. “You need a couple stitches to close this up.”

  “No.” C.J.’s injured chin took on a stubborn tilt.

  “I could put a bandage on it,” Adam said slowly. “But it’s deep and that means healing will take a long time. And that means no baseball for a while.”

  “Okay.” His tone said he could live with that.

  “And there will be a pretty bad scar.” Adam stepped back, deliberately giving the child space. “Don’t get me wrong. Scars aren’t a bad thing. A lot of manly men have them on their chins.”

  “You don’t,” C.J. pointed out. “Are you manly?”

  There was amusement in Adam’s gaze when he looked at her, but Jill felt her cheeks burn. She could vouch for his manliness. She had firsthand experience with it, or rather her mouth did.

  Adam laughed. “I guess I’m just not one of the lucky guys.”

  C.J. squirmed on the exam table. “It hurts to get stitches.”

  “I have to give you some medicine with a little tiny needle, so it doesn’t hurt while I’m putting them in. That will be like a pinch but it’ll go away pretty fast. Then we’ll wait till it works and you need to hold really still while I fix it up. Afterward it will ache, but not too bad.”

  “I don’t know if I can hold still.”

  “I’ll make a deal,” Adam said. “If you hold as still as you can, I’ll take you out to dinner. Anywhere you want to go.”

  “Really?”

  “I promise.” Adam held up his hand, palm out.

  C.J. didn’t look at her for an okay. Adam had put him in control and this was a man-to-man deal. Finally he nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll be so still I won’t even breathe.”

  “Breathing is okay.” Adam laughed. “If it hurts more than I said, I’ll even buy you ice cream after dinner.”

  “Cool.”

 
Then Adam did exactly what he said and C.J. was calm and quiet because he hadn’t been lied to. There were no surprises and he’d been well prepared for what was going to happen. He held still, didn’t cry and actually gave the doctor a hug when it was all over. Jill was grateful to Adam, but that was the easy part. Everything else was incredibly complicated.

  Not only was Dr. Stone easy on the eyes, he was good with kids. Also good with mothers, Jill thought. The man was a double threat. She needed that like she needed a sharp stick in the eye.

  * * *

  It got too late last night for dinner out after Adam stitched up C.J.’s chin. For all his talk about the cool factor of scars, he’d worked hard and taken his time putting in the tiniest stitches possible to minimize any mark the repair would leave. How was a mom supposed to resist a guy like that? It was the reason she kept her inner skeptic on high alert, although Jill conceded, if only to herself, that it was handy to have a doctor in the house. Technically not in, but just upstairs was close enough.

  This morning before heading to the clinic, Doctor Dashing had stopped by to inspect the injury for infection and ask about pain. Both were a negative. Then he’d mentioned his promise and asked if it was okay to take C.J. to dinner that night. How could she object to a man who kept a promise?

  Adam had come home from the clinic about fifteen minutes ago. She knew that because C.J. had been waiting and looking out the window. When he spotted the doctor’s car in the driveway, her son had made the announcement at the top of his lungs and in a pitch only dogs could hear. Now he was getting ready to go out.

  She was happy her little wounded soldier wasn’t disappointed this time, but disillusionment was coming. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but sooner or later her little guy was going to get his heart stomped on and crushed when Adam decided his wilderness experiment wasn’t the rollicking good time he’d expected and left Blackwater Lake. There was no way to prepare C.J. for that.

  “How do I look, Mom?”

  Jill glanced away from the computer screen she hadn’t really been looking at anyway. C.J. stood beside her desk in his navy blue Sunday pants and long-sleeved yellow checked shirt. He was wearing sneakers because that was his only pair of shoes. Church and Sunday school were once a week, but his feet grew every day. Shoes got too small too fast and were too expensive for a dress-up pair. She figured God didn’t mind a boy wearing sneakers instead of dress shoes as long as they walked into His house.

  Her son’s wavy red hair was slicked down with what looked like a very generous amount of gel. And water. Drops of it glistened on his forehead. Waiting for her approval, he was almost as still as he’d been last night while Adam had gently and skillfully closed the gash on his chin. The only evidence of yesterday’s trauma was a small white bandage.

  “Earth to Mom—”

  She should get used to hearing her own words tossed back at her. This was another of many signs that he was growing up far too fast, and unshed tears burned her eyes. She was able to hold them back and chalked one up for Mom.

  “You look more handsome than usual tonight,” she said. “It must be the manly scar on your chin. Does it hurt?”

  “Nah. Dr. Adam was wrong about that. It doesn’t ache at all.”

  Just then there was a knock on the door. Speaking of the devil...

  C.J. ran to answer it. “Hi, Dr. Adam.”

  “Hi, champ.” He smiled when she moved behind her son. “Hello, mother of champ.”

  Jill wasn’t sure how he managed to look better every time she saw him, but it was a fact. In his battered brown leather jacket and jeans that were worn almost white in the most interesting places, he had the rugged appearance every woman expected of a Montana man. Maybe that was why she felt a constant need to remind him he wasn’t from there.

  “Hi, Adam.” Her voice had a breathless quality that she couldn’t seem to control. “C.J. was just saying that you were wrong.”

  “Really?” He looked down. “About what?”

  “My chin didn’t hurt at all after you got done fixin’ it. And it doesn’t ache now.”

  “That’s a very good thing to be wrong about.”

  Jill couldn’t agree more. “He’s doing great, Adam. You were so good with him. And now taking him to dinner— I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He looked at the little guy and whistled. “You look spiffy.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Yes.” Adam’s expression was wry when he met her gaze. “I feel officially old now.”

  Jill laughed. “Then you won’t be keeping him out too late. An old guy like you should be able to get him home in time for bed.”

  “Not a problem.”

  His blue eyes sparkled with something that made Jill’s pulse stutter. Somehow she knew the deceptively simple word bed was making him think about that complicated kiss. God knew memories of it were never far from her mind, but she had high hopes of them fading very soon.

  “Take good care of him—” Jill pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I’m sure you will. That’s just automatic.”

  “I understand. It’s a mom thing.” He snapped his fingers as if an idea just occurred to him. “You should come with us.”

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t.” She looked down at her own jeans, worn all day at the marina, and seized on that as an excuse. “I’m not dressed for it.”

  “You can change. We’ll wait, right, C.J.?”

  Her son rubbed a finger beneath his nose. “Do we hafta?”

  “No.” Adam folded his arms over his chest. “But waiting for women is something we men do. It’s probably time for you to start learning. I promise the wait is worth it.”

  “Now, there’s something you’re wrong about.” Jill prayed that would discourage him. There was a very real possibility that her resolve to resist him was no match for that roguish sparkle in his eyes. “You and C.J. go on. There’s a microwave dinner with my name on it in the freezer.”

  “That’s just too sad.” Adam met her gaze, and his own was potent with challenge. “Are you afraid to go?”

  C.J. studied her. “It’s the Grizzly Bear Diner, Mom. And the ones they got there are just stuffed.”

  “Like you are after eating there.” She started to ruffle his hair, then remembered his effort to tame his curls. “Thanks for the support, sweetie.”

  “Does that mean you’re comin’ with us?” he asked impatiently.

  “Yeah,” Adam said. “Are you?”

  Jill wasn’t sure whether it was the sparkle in his eyes or the charming grin, but her resistance to the invitation was a miserable failure. “It will just take me a couple of minutes to change.”

  In her room Jill slipped into a pair of dark slacks and pulled a black-and-white sweater over her head. She twisted her hair into a knot and secured it with a clip, lifting some curls for height at her crown. Then she brushed some blush on her cheeks and smoothed tinted gloss over her lips.

  Adam whistled when he saw her. “That wasn’t much of a wait, but definitely worth it.”

  “Can we go now?” C.J. looked up at them. “I’m really starvin’.”

  “Me, too.” A huskiness crept into the doctor’s voice that hinted at exactly what he was hungry for and it had nothing to do with food.

  Heart pounding, Jill got her son into his jacket and the three of them out the door in record time. Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in a booth at the grizzly bear–themed diner with C.J. next to Adam and the two of them across the table from her. She wasn’t sure if a full-on view of the doctor was less dangerous than being on the same side and brushing arms, but that was the way it worked out. The Grizzly had a pretty decent crowd for a weeknight and she knew practically everyone here. They all stared at Adam as if the enemy had waltzed into their territory and taken it without a shot being f
ired.

  Before they had their jackets off, Harriet Marlow, the owner of the diner, walked over with three glasses of water and set them down on the table. The blonde, who was somewhere in her forties and what people diplomatically called “fluffy,” had twenty extra pounds, which were her own best advertisement for the food she served in her establishment.

  “Hey, Jill, haven’t seen you in here for a while.”

  “Hi, Harriet.” She silently pleaded that her son wouldn’t share the reason why it had been so long was financial. “I’ve been busy.”

  Harriet studied the man across from her. “You must be the new doctor here in town.”

  “Adam Stone.” He smiled as if the mistrust in her eyes wasn’t there.

  “He put stitches in my chin ’cuz I fell and hurt it. Wanna see?” C.J. offered.

  “Maybe later.”

  “He said if I held really still while he did it, I could have dinner out wherever I wanted. I didn’t move even once.”

  “Good for you, big guy.”

  “And I wanted to come here. I really like the bear paw burger and fries.”

  “As I recall, you get that with cheese,” Harriet said, pulling a pencil and pad from her apron pocket.

  “Yes, ma’am.” C.J. grinned. “And I’d like a Coke.”

  “Sorry, kiddo,” Jill cut in. “I know you were promised whatever you wanted, but I have to rule out anything with caffeine.”

  “O-okay,” he said grudgingly. “Then lemonade.”

  “Coming right up.” The plump woman smiled for the first time and almost included Adam. “Do you two need a minute?”

  “I do.” Jill always savored the luxury of a dinner she didn’t have to prepare by looking at all the choices on the menu. But meals out were so rare, her usual burger would be the selection just because she knew she liked it and wouldn’t be let down.

  “Since this is my first time, I’ll need to check it all out,” Adam said.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes. Nice to see you, Jill.”

  “You, too, Harriet.” She reached for two menus stacked behind the napkin holder and condiment containers, then handed one across to Adam.

  As they were flipping through, Mayor Goodson stopped by the table. She smiled at C.J. “I heard about your adventure at the clinic yesterday.”