Prince Charming, M.D.

by Susan Mallery

  “I don’t see any nameplates,” Dana said, moving close to one of the tables and glancing at the place setting. “I guess it’s not assigned seating.”

  “Works for me, but what are those?” Trevor asked. He pointed at the small white boxes sitting next to each plate. The boxes weren’t much bigger than a medium-sized apple.

  Shelly, their very pregnant leader, walked to the front of the room and took a microphone from its stand.

  “Good morning/’ she said. “Please sit anywhere. There’s a surprise waiting for you at the table, but we’d appreciate it if you waited to open it until after breakfast. However, we’d like you to write your name on the tags provided so we can all continue getting to know one another.”

  “How about over there,” Trevor said, deciding to assume he and Dana would sit together.

  “Great.”

  When he held out a chair for her, she slid into it and smiled at him. His body reacted with the same embarrassing speed as when he’d been all of seventeen. He settled on the seat next to her and moved close enough to the table that no one would be able to tell.

  The food was as good as it had been the previous evening. Everyone was friendly and soon a spirited discussion was underway at their table about the contents of the mysterious white boxes.

  “Chocolate,” Dana said firmly.

  “For breakfast?” Trevor asked.

  “Chocolate is a food group that works at any meal.”

  Two of the people sitting with them were women. They smiled at each other. The guys looked confused. Trevor had long since realized females had a relationship with chocolate that mere men could never understand.

  “Too small for a book. Maybe it’s some kind of crystal or meditating rock,” a guy named Bill said. He was an executive in the banking industry and a resident of San Francisco. “After all, this is California.”

  They kept guessing until breakfast was over and Shelly picked up her microphone again. “All right,” she said. “Go ahead and open your boxes.”

  Trevor reached for his. It was lighter than he’d expected and something moved around inside. Not as though it were alive, but he could feel weight shifting.

  Dana opened hers first and started to laugh. “What on earth is this for?” She held up an egg.

  Trevor opened his box. “I have the same thing,” he said, staring at the contents.

  “We all do.” Bill looked disgusted. “An egg?”

  Shelly nodded as if she’d heard him. “That’s right, everyone has an egg. For the next week, this is your best friend, your child, your constant companion—whatever you want it to be. The point is, you’re responsible for the egg. You’ll bring it to classes, take it out with you for dinner. The rules of engagement are the eggs are not to be left alone... ever.”

  Trevor stared at the egg in its box. “At least it’s small. I’d hate to have to be responsible for something heavy like a watermelon.”

  “They’re kidding, aren’t they?” Dana asked. “An egg?”

  The waiters dropped off a basket in the center of the table.

  “Your supplies are being delivered to you right now,” Shelly went on. ‘‘There are hats, blankets, even some markers if you want to give your egg a little personality. You’ve got about fifteen minutes until the first workshop starts, so use that time to bond with your egg.”

  “I’ve got three kids at home,” Bill said. “I’ve done plenty of bonding.” But he dutifully dug through the basket and pulled out a tiny pink cap. “What the hell. With three boys, a girl would be nice.” He put the cap on the egg and placed his egg back in its box.

  Trevor took the basket from him and picked a blue cap for his egg. He also took a blanket and marker and handed the rest to Dana.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he started drawing on his egg.

  “Making a face. This is T.J.—that’s short for Trevor Junior.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I should have guessed.” She passed on the basket without taking anything.

  “You’re not dressing your egg?”

  She shook her head and stood. “It’s just an egg, Trevor. I understand the point of the exercise, but I think it’s silly to dress it up.” She took her box and headed for the door.

  Trevor shrugged, then put the pen down and studied his handiwork. Two dark eyes stared back at him. He’d added a dot for a nose and a wide, smiling mouth.

  “’Morning, T.J.,” he said, and tugged on the tiny cap. Nestled in the blanket and tucked in the box, the egg looked like a space alien newborn. Then he followed Dana.

  A crowd had gathered by the door. People were talking and comparing “children.” Dana turned toward him. “Let me see what you did,” she said.

  He showed off his egg, oddly proud of the little guy. “He kinda looks like me, don’t you think?”

  Dana eyed him. “You’re taking this so seriously you’re scaring me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were actually interested in having kids of your own.”

  “As a matter of fact—”

  But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. Dana had started turning back toward the door. Someone jostled her. She took an instinctive step to the side. One arm reached out for balance, her hand dropped and her egg fell to the floor with a loud splat.

  Shelly walked over and stared at the mess. “The cleaning staff here hate this particular exercise.” She patted Dana’s arm. “Don’t worry, there are plenty more in the kitchen. Go tell them you need a new egg.”

  Color stained Dana’s cheeks. “I’m not sure what happened. I got bumped and then it just sort of went flying.”

  Trevor leaned close. “I was going to suggest we get together later to let our eggs play, but I don’t know that I want my egg around yours. I mean, I have a certain responsibility for my egg’s safety.”

  Dana glared at him. “I can’t decide if I should laugh or threaten you.”

  Kiss me, instead, he thought. But he didn’t say it All he managed was a gruff, “I’ll save you a seat,” as he headed for the classroom and she turned toward the kitchen.

  *

  Rain pounded against the tall glass windows. Dana sat in the lobby of the hotel and watched the storm. According to the weather reports, it wouldn’t let up until the seminar was nearly over. Oddly enough, she didn’t mind. The resort was beautiful, and the various classes and activities kept them so busy there wasn’t much free time. She enjoyed the people she’d met, and most of all, she was having fun with Trevor.

  She looked up and saw him crossing the lobby, walking toward her. Although it was only their third day, they’d already developed a routine. They took their morning breaks out here, and in the afternoon they relaxed in the garden sunroom in the back of the hotel.

  Trevor walked with an easy grace. She’d grown used to seeing him casually dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt or sweater, but she still wasn’t used to his magnetic charm or his good looks. She was beginning to think she could go her whole life and not get used to being around him. As he got close, as if on cue her body began coming alive, with odd feelings coming from different sections. It was like an orchestra warming up.

  Something fizzled low in her belly. Heat flashed in the center of her chest. Tingling whipped through her fingers, then jumped to her thighs and vibrated there.

  Trevor flopped down on the sofa next to her and grinned. “What did you think of this morning’s exercise?”

  They’d broken up into small groups and had been given a business problem to solve. After an hour, they’d stopped to meditate for twenty minutes, led by Shelly, who despite her advanced pregnancy was still much more limber than Dana could ever hope to be. Following the meditation, they’d returned to their groups and worked on another business problem.

  “I’m not sure,” Dana said. “My group didn’t solve the first problem, but we fixed the second. Was it because we’d learned from our mistakes, learned to work together, or was it really about using the meditation time to focus? It c
ould be a combination of the three, I suppose. What about you?”

  He placed his egg on the coffee table in front of them. Their two boxes were side by side. Dana didn’t even want to think about the whole-egg exercise. She was having extraordinarily bad luck with her attempts to keep her egg whole.

  “My group solved both problems,” Trevor said. “But we were much faster and worked better the second time. I can see the advantage of using meditation to facilitate focus. One of the medical journals I’ve been reading has some information on patients meditating before surgery, then listening to those tapes during the procedure and while in recovery. Some people are suggesting the meditation helps the body heal faster.” He leaned back, sitting so close his arm brushed against hers. “Who’s to say they’re wrong? There’s so much we don’t know about how the body gets sick and then heals itself.”

  “I agree. I remember caring for people who shouldn’t have survived, let alone recovered, and they did. Then there were others who appeared to be healthy and strong, yet they didn’t make it. Sometimes there’s no predicting the outcome.”

  She was pleased with herself. After all, she’d strung four sentences together without blushing or stuttering. A miracle, considering the waves of hormones cranking up her desire and making her want to throw herself at him. She settled for a small sigh of contentment as his hand casually brushed against her thigh when he shifted on the sofa.

  “I watched the news this morning,” he said. “The storm is going to be a bad one. They’re talking about the potential for flooding. We might not be able to get out for a while.”

  Dana glanced around at the high ceilings in the beautiful lobby, then out at the storm. “It wouldn’t upset me too much to be trapped here. The people at the seminar are a lot of fun.”

  ‘‘What? You don’t miss the hospital?” Trevor pretended outrage.

  “I miss my friends. While I adore my job, I don’t mind taking a break. And what do you miss?” She braced herself to hear that he was longing for his lady friends. Had he been calling Angie or Sally or any number of other women in the evenings? Their activities usually ended about nine. She and Trevor had stayed up with a few other people in either the lobby or the bar, getting to know one another and talking about the day’s exercises. But she didn’t know what he did once he went back to his room. She found it hard to believe he would be content to be on his own.

  “I was just getting settled in my new place,” Trevor said. “My work is still exciting, so I would have been happy to stay put. But I’m having a great time here. The company is very pleasant.”

  She told herself he didn’t necessarily mean her, but that didn’t stop a warm glow from washing over her.

  “Hey, you two.” Bill waved and walked over to them. “A group of us are talking about ordering in pizza for lunch. We thought we’d better do it before the rain gets worse. You want in?”

  “Sure.” Trevor reached for his wallet and handed Bill a twenty.

  “I left my purse upstairs,” Dana said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Trevor told her. “I’ve got you covered.”

  Bill gave her a wink. “The sunroom in back at twelve-thirty. See you there,”

  “Thanks,” she said after Bill had left. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “It’s just pizza.” Trevor reached forward and picked up the small box containing her egg.

  “But...” She bit her lip. There was no point in arguing. She would just look like an ungracious slob. “Thank you.”

  She knew why his action made her uncomfortable. Because they knew each other, they’d been spending a lot of time together. Everyone attending the seminar assumed they were a couple. It was an interesting phenomenon. At first, a few of the women had tried flirting with Trevor, but he’d simply ignored them and they’d stopped. Then she’d noticed she and Trevor were being invited to things together. A part of her wanted to set the record straight, while the rest of her was happy to play along. It was a harmless fantasy, right? Like mooning after a rock star or an actor. Trevor was too perfect to be a real flesh-and-blood man.

  “When did you get a new egg?” he asked. “Last night?”

  She flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This is a different egg from the one you had yesterday.” He pointed to a few brown flecks on the shell. “These are new.”

  “They were on the other side of the egg,” she lied, wondering why it was so hard for her to keep her egg in one piece.

  He looked at her and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I would have remembered. So what happened?”

  She snatched the egg from him and gripped the box in her hand. “Nothing happened.” He raised his eyebrows. She exhaled in frustration. “All right. I’ll tell you, although I don’t understand what the big deal is. I was getting dressed this morning. Like you, I had the television on to catch the weather report. They started talking about the storm just as I was reaching for my watch. I turned away from the dresser and accidentally knocked the box onto the floor.”

  He winced. “Jeez, Dana, this makes what, three eggs or four?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Three?”

  “Four,” she grumbled. She hated the egg exercise. Maybe because she’d gotten off to a bad start. “Don’t you be critical of me. I was a maternity nurse for years and I did just fine with newborns. I’m a very caring and careful person. I just can’t relate to an egg, okay?”

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You don’t have to yell at me. I’m not saying anything.”

  “I’m not yelling,” she said between gritted teeth. “I’m simply explaining I don’t worry about an egg the way I would a child or an adult. An egg isn’t alive.”

  He looked startled, as if she’d suddenly slapped him or stripped off her clothes.

  “Don’t say that,” he commanded in mock horror. “He’ll hear you.”

  She looked around. “He who?”

  “TJ.” Trevor picked up his small box and cradled it close to his chest. “Hush, little guy. She didn’t mean it. Of course you’re real. That’s it. Smile for Papa. Good boy. You are so darn clever.”

  Dana felt her mouth drop open. “You’re taking this egg thing way too seriously.”

  She glanced at the box. Every day there had been modifications. On the second morning she’d noticed Trevor had drawn trucks and boats on the inside of the container. For stimulation, he’d told her seriously. Children needed that to develop properly. Today there was a shiny miniature paper airplane and a football, both made out of foil gum wrappers.

  “I’m practicing,” he said.

  “For?”

  “Fatherhood. I’ve always wanted kids and I think I’d be a good dad.” He glanced knowingly at her box. “Although we can’t say the same thing about you, can we?”

  She realized he’d given her the perfect out “You’re right,” she said, pretending to be serious.

  His eyebrows drew together. “Dana, no. I was teasing you. You’ll be a terrific parent.”

  “Maybe.” She drew in a breath, ready to pounce. “But you are right about what you said. I would be a lousy dad.”

  “You set me up,” he said accusingly.

  She chuckled.

  He set his egg on the coffee table, then lunged for her. She shrieked as he began to tickle her, his long fingers dancing along the side of her rib cage.

  “Trevor, stop! Stop!” She gasped for air, laughing and twisting, trying to get away from him. “I’m not ticklish.”

  “Oh, I can tell.” He leaned closer and reached for her other side.

  “I mean it. This isn’t dignified. Oh!”

  She inhaled sharply and kicked out. Anything to get away. He didn’t give up. Between his size advantage and his superior strength, she didn’t have a chance. She thrust out her free hand in an attempt to tickle him back. Unfortunately, he really wasn’t ticklish.

  “Trevor!”

  She made one
desperate attempt to turn away. Her left arm bumped against the back of the sofa. As soon as her hand connected with the soft material, she knew she was in trouble.

  Sure enough, the force of the movement sent her egg flying through the air. It sailed in a perfect arc, narrowly missing the coffee table before falling onto the stone floor and landing with a messy splat.

  Dana winced. “This is not my fault.”

  “Oh, Dana, what are we going to do with you?”

  She looked up and saw Shelly staring at her. Dana pointed to the shattered shell and broken yolk. “This isn’t my fault. Trevor was tickling me and I couldn’t get away, and you tell her Trevor.”

  He picked up his box. “I don’t know, Shelly. T.J. and I were just chatting with Dana here when she tossed her egg into the air. What can I say?”

  Dana ignored the twinkle in his eye and shoved his arm. “Oh, thank you very much for that support.” She stood. “This isn’t my fault. You know it and I know it.”

  “Where are you going?” Trevor called as she stalked away.

  “To the kitchen, of course. I need another egg.”

  “You might want to save yourself the extra trips and just ask for a dozen.”

  *

  Bill passed Dana a margarita. “My favorite was the dog exercise,” he said.

  Dana chuckled. A couple of days ago they’d been required to stand in front of the group and, in a stern voice, tell Shelly, “Don’t you ever, ever, ever let me catch you brushing that dog’s teeth again.”

  Everyone had been weak with laughter watching classmates struggle to keep a firm tone in their voice, but actually getting up to do that had been difficult. The purpose had been to remind everyone that while embarrassment was uncomfortable, it didn’t maim or kill and people did survive the experience.

  “Not the water-balloon fight?” she asked.

  Bill thought for a moment. “That was fun, although I’ll have to explain to my wife why I have condoms in my luggage.”

  Dana nodded. After a particularly tense session, everyone had gone out into the garden and had a water-balloon fight in the rain. They hadn’t made a dent in the four jumbo boxes of condoms Shelly had provided. The instructor had taken a lot of ribbing that she was thinking about protection about nine months too late. In retaliation, she’d sent the extras to everyone’s rooms.