Fred wiped his nose on her leg.
“Hello,” she said to him. “I hadn’t forgotten you. Want to watch a video? Because no matter how pitiful you look, I am not publishing your memoirs. Not enough sex in your life, buddy.” She thought of Alex and his damn fingers. “Or in mine, for that matter.” Then she squelched the thought. She was not going to start fantasizing about Alex Moore.
Fred put his paws on her leg and whined at her, so she gave him the last of Charity’s milk shake. A scant inch of chocolate and Amaretto couldn’t hurt him, and he was so pitiful when he whined. She watched him slurp the last of it, his nose jammed into the glass, and then she stood and threw out the rest of the chips and went back to the table to start on the twit’s manuscript.
It was worse than she had remembered, so she was grateful when the doorbell rang. She grabbed her blue seersucker robe and deserted the manuscript with indecent haste, only to feel her heart thump when she opened the door and found Alex leaning in her doorway, this time in a white tailored shirt and navy dress pants, his tie loose and lopsided around his neck.
“Hi,” he said slowly and distinctly. “Remember me?”
“Yes.” Nina peered at him. He did a little weaving on the doorsill, his eyes bright but half-closed. “Been drinking, have we?”
Alex’s laugh sloughed into an exhale. “I don’t know about you, but I have. It’s my birthday. My whole damn family bought me a drink. One at a time. All day.” He frowned at her, as if trying to bring her into focus. “Do you have any coffee? I only ask because you looked like a woman who would have coffee when I was up here last night.”
Great. And she’d been thinking hot thoughts about this delinquent all day. God, she was pathetic. Well, somebody had to sober him up. “I have coffee.” Nina tied the belt around her robe tighter and stepped back to let him in.
He walked past her and stopped to stare at the papers on the table. “You’re working. I don’t want to interrupt.”
At least he had manners. “It’s all right.” Nina closed the door behind him. “It’s a terrible book. Boring. Turgid.”
Alex frowned. “Turgid. He was the Russian, right?”
Oh, terrific. “Not a big reader, I see.” Nina pulled out a chair from the table and took his arm to guide him into it. “Coffee coming right up. You sit until it’s done.”
“I took science courses not lit.” Alex took off his tie and threw it on the table. Then he picked up a page from the book and began to read while Nina put a filter in the coffeemaker and poured in the coffee.
Fred wandered over to him, and Nina turned to shoo him away, but Alex said, “Hey, Fred,” and leaned down to scratch his ears, and Nina forgave him everything.
Alex was a nice guy. So he wasn’t brilliant. Big deal. It wasn’t as if she was contemplating a relationship with him; she’d already decided that would be ridiculous. What she needed was a friend, a neighbor. And Alex was nice to her and good to her dog. What more could she want in a neighbor?
Fred looked as if he could want more. He nudged Alex’s hand, looking for potato chips, and then collapsed under the table from disappointment when none were forthcoming. Alex went back to reading the manuscript. “This is terrible,” he told her when he looked up. “Why is he writing about some dumb American prep school if he’s Russian?”
“He’s not Russian,” Nina said. “You made that up. How much have you had to drink?”
“Well.” Alex leaned back in the chair, keeping one hand on the table as if for security. “I had breakfast with my sister—Irish coffee. Then I had lunch with my mother and that’s always a strain, so I had two scotches. Then my stepmother asked me out for a drink, and I hate saying no to her, so I had brandy. Then my dad took me out for dinner.” He cocked an eye at Nina. “When my father eats, the liquor flows. I’m pretty sure I had three whiskies. Then he had the cab drop me off at home, and my brother was waiting for me with a six-pack.” He shook his head. “He just left and I laid down and the whole room sort of swooped and I thought of you. Pour some caffeine down me and I’ll leave.”
Nina took two blue-checked mugs from the cupboard and put them on the table. “Couldn’t you have had seltzer with a couple of them?”
“No.” Alex shook his head and then thought better of it. “Ouch, that hurts. I had to have something to drown out the refrain.”
Nina sat down, intrigued. “The refrain?”
Alex nodded, this time more carefully. “They all had different verses, but when we got to the chorus, they all said the same thing. ‘Time to decide on a career, Alex.’” He put his head down and looked mulish for a moment. “I don’t want to decide on a career. I think they’re pushing me.”
Nina looked at him with disgust. She had the Peter Pan syndrome, sitting right here in her kitchen. She sighed and began to finish the job his family had started. Somebody had to. “Well, Alex, they may have a point. I realize twenty-five seems young, but—”
“I’m thirty,” Alex said. “Today. Happy birthday to me.”
Thirty? Dear Lord, and he still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life? What was he doing now? Checking IDs? Singing in a rock band? Making sure the fries were hot?
“Coffee?” Alex said and Nina checked back over her shoulder.
“It’s still dripping. You’re thirty?”
He gazed at her owlishly. “You thought I was younger, huh? Everybody does. No wonder nobody takes me seriously. And I’ve got a receding hairline and everything.”
Nina squinted at him. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” He pulled his hair back off his forehead. “See? It’s creeping up on the sides.”
Nina leaned closer. “Well, a little. But if you want people to take you seriously, choosing a career would be a better move than flashing a minimally receding hairline.”
Alex groaned. “Not you, too. Listen, I’m happy doing what I’m doing. All I need is a cup of coffee and I’ll be ecstatic.”
“Coming right up.” Nina got up and pulled the pot out from under the drip spout, feeling disappointed and stupid. She’d been attracted to him and that had been ridiculous since he was fifteen years younger than she was. Then it turned out he was only ten years younger, which was not as ridiculous although still ridiculous, but now he was also shiftless and evidently not too bright. Turgid as a Russian novelist? Okay, he was drunk, but still, this was not good. She turned to the table and poured coffee into the mugs, watching him reach for his before she said, “Be careful. It’s hot.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, and she winced. “I’m kidding,” he said hastily. “Dumb joke.”
“Probably not.” Nina put the pot back on the warmer and sank into her seat. “I’m practically old enough to be your mother.”
“Not unless you had a lot more fun in kindergarten than I did,” he said, and Nina said, “I’m forty. Two days ago, as a matter of fact.”
Alex nodded wisely. “It’s those years that end in zero that kill you. Twenty-nine was nothing like this.”
“Thirty-nine sucked, too,” Nina said. “I got divorced.”
Alex winced. “Sorry.”
Nina shook her head. “No, it’s fine now. I have my own place, and I can do anything I want, and I love it. Last night after you left, Fred and I stayed up and watched The Great Escape until one-thirty. You can’t do that when you’re married. I missed out on a lot of great movies because Guy didn’t like it when I stayed up late. I love being single.”
Alex blinked. “I watched it, too. Steve McQueen and the catcher’s mitt. You like old movies?”
Nina nodded. “And James Garner. James Garner is great in that movie.” Then she frowned at him. “Now back to your problem. From the wisdom of my advanced years, I can tell you that waiting too long to start a career is a mistake.”
Alex sipped his coffee. “You just starting one now?”
“Going back to one I abandoned sixteen years ago,” Nina said. “I got very lucky and found a job in publishing after m
y divorce, but if I’d stayed at it, people would be working for me instead of me working for them. It took me six months to advance from secretary to assistant editor. One of the editors who has seniority over me is your age. It’s hard.”
Alex shrugged and sipped again. “Why do you care? Age is irrelevant.”
“Tell me that when you’re forty.” Nina put her mug down. “Come on, let’s work on your future. You said you liked science courses in school.”
“I said I took science courses in school. I didn’t say I liked them.” He took another sip. “This is excellent coffee. What kind is it?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. What do you like?”
“People. Excitement. Noise. Color.”
“Maybe we can get you in with the circus,” Nina said acidly. “Concentrate here. I’m trying to fix your life.”
“You and my whole family. Why don’t we leave my life alone? I like my life.” Alex drained his coffee mug and then stared into it. “You know, this isn’t supposed to work, but I do feel better. Must be the caffeine.”
“How are you supporting yourself now?” Nina asked, hoping for a direction to steer him in.
“I’m a doctor.” Alex pushed his empty mug toward her. “Could I have another cup, please?”
Nina blinked at him. “You’re a what?”
“A doctor. Never mind, I’ll get it.” Alex got up and stepped over Fred to fill his mug from the pot before he gestured it in her direction. “You want more?”
“No.” She didn’t want more coffee, she wanted to kill him. He’d known what she’d been thinking and had just played along to amuse himself. Turgid as a Russian novelist. How juvenile of him. Well, he was young, but not that damn young. “Very funny. I want to know why the hell your family isn’t happy with a thirty-year-old doctor.”
“Because I work in the ER.” Alex sat down again. “I like the ER. I have a very short attention span and there’s always something going on there to keep me interested. Plus, I get to save lives, which makes me feel good.”
Nina nodded and thought about strangling him. “And your family wants you to be what? A lawyer?”
“God, no.” Alex looked horrified. “That’s my uncle Robert. We do not mention his name.” He grew thoughtful for a moment. “Although we do turn to him in times of malpractice suits.”
He was being deliberately obtuse, which was his right since she was prying into things that were none of her business. She should just butt out. “I don’t get this,” she told him. “Explain it or you get no more coffee.”
“My mother wants me to be a neurosurgeon,” Alex said.
“Why?”
“Because she’s a neurosurgeon and I am her only child.” Alex sipped his coffee. “This stuff is great. I’m feeling human again.”
Nina scowled at him. “I thought you said you had a brother and sister.”
“I do. She’s an oncologist and he’s a gynecologist.” Alex stopped. “Oh, you mean, how am I an only child? They’re half-sibs. Dad got married three times. We’re all only children. It’s a real bond.”
Nina put her chin in her hand, fascinated. “And your father wants you to be what?”
“A cardiologist, since Stella and Max let him down.” Alex drained his coffee mug. “I’m feeling a lot better. Have you got anything to eat?”
Nina stood and got a package of Oreos from the cupboard. Fred perked up and moved nearer to Alex’s hand. “Why did they let him down?”
“Stella’s mom died of cancer, so Stell fixated on that. Max, on the other hand, chose for aesthetic reasons.”
“Gynecology is aesthetic?”
Alex broke open the package and took a cookie. Fred moaned a little and leaned on his leg, so Alex gave the cookie to him and took another for himself. Fred spit the cookie out, looked at it, licked it, nudged it with his nose, licked it again and then picked it up with his teeth and trotted off to the living room.
Alex watched him and then turned back to Nina. “Gourmet dog. Where was I? Oh, yeah, aesthetic gynecology. Well, as Max pointed out to me just an hour ago, why spend your life looking into the chest cavities of eighty-year-olds when you can look into—”
Nina shut her eyes and leaned back against the cupboard. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“—the eyes of women who are listening to your every word?”
Nina laughed and then tried to glare at him. “You set me up.”
Alex grinned at her and nodded. “Just like Max set me up. I laughed, too. You’d like Max. He’s old, almost thirty-six.”
“Up yours,” Nina said politely.
“And Stell is a little older than you. Forty-two, I think. You’d like Stell, too.” Alex’s eyes met hers, and she felt her heart thump funny for a moment. Stop that, she told her heart.
“Next time they do this,” he told her, “you come along to protect me.”
I’m not going anywhere with you, sonny, she told him silently, but she wanted to know more, so she said, “And then there’s your stepmother. Max’s mother, right? What does she want you to be? A dermatologist?”
“No, that would be my cousin Tom.” Alex crunched the last of another Oreo. “They’d disinherit me if I did that. I’m supposed to do something invasive not topical. Max’s mom is a thoracic surgeon, but she doesn’t care what I do as long as I pick a specialty.”
“What’s wrong with the ER?”
“No status, no fame, no glory.” Alex picked up his third Oreo. “Do you have any milk?”
“Skim,” Nina said and went to the refrigerator, shoving back the Crock-Pot on the top of the fridge that had inched its way forward as she opened the door.
“Why do you do that?” Alex asked.
Nina slammed the refrigerator door and turned. “Push the Crock-Pot? The top of the fridge is the only place I have to keep it, but the vibration from the motor makes it move forward.” She squinted back at it. “I should find a better place, but the cupboards are full.”
“It’s going to fall on you,” Alex said. “Move it.”
Nina scowled at him. Just what she needed: an infant doctor giving her orders. “It’s fine. Do you want this milk or not?”
Fred had returned by now and sat down with a thump by Alex, his butt hitting the ground like a sack of lumpy lead. He wiped his nose on Alex’s pants.
Alex didn’t seem to mind.
“Don’t beg, Fred,” Nina said. “Alex will think you’ve had no upbringing.”
Alex fed him another cookie, and Fred went through the drop, lick, nudge routine again before he picked it up and trotted back to the couch. Alex turned to Nina. “Skim milk. How healthy of you.” He got up and rinsed out his coffee mug before he held it out to her. “Thank you very much, I’ll take some.”
Nina poured his milk. “So what are going to do?”
Alex collapsed into his chair. “I’m going to stay in the ER and just wait them out. They’re busy people. Eventually they’ll go back to their own lives. Except for Max, but he doesn’t give a damn what I do. He’s just trying to make sure I don’t go for something so high-pressured that I become Dad.”
Nina put the milk down on the table. “And that would be bad.”
“That would be terrible. My father is a great doctor but a mediocre human being. The only way I’ll ever have a real discussion with him is if I develop a heart murmur.” Alex crunched into another cookie. “Do you know who raised me? Max’s mom, Melanie. My mom left for a residency in Denver, and Dad was too busy, so Melanie just absorbed me into the family with Max and Stella. And Stella wasn’t hers, either.”
Nina conjured up a motherly thoracic surgeon, surrounded by three adoring children. It was a weird picture. “She must be a wonderful woman.”
“Not really. Just efficient and responsible.”
That sounded awful. Poor Alex.
Alex straightened a little, and Nina realized her distress must have shown in her face. “Hey, don’t knock it,” he told her. “When you’re a kid,
that’s pretty good, especially if your own parents aren’t around much.” He shook his head, remembering. “One day we were all together, must have been a holiday, and I disagreed with something Melanie said, and Dad said, ‘Do what your mother tells you,’ and Melanie just looked at him and said, ‘I’m not his mother.’ And Dad said, ‘What?’ And Melanie said, ‘He’s Alice’s son.’ My dad didn’t even remember.” Alex slouched back in his chair. “Thank God for Melanie. I’d never have made it to adulthood alive and sane.” He stopped in the middle of his Oreo, a cautious look on his face, and put his hand on his stomach.
“Well, the sane’s still up for grabs,” Nina said. “All those Oreos on top of milk, scotch, whiskey, brandy and beer can’t be a good idea. And you call yourself a doctor.”
Alex thought about it for a moment and finished the cookie. “I think it was the milk that was the bad idea. But you need milk with Oreos.” He tried to look stern. “It’s probably because it’s skim milk. Whole milk would have coated my stomach.”
Nina tried to look stern back at him. “How old did you say you were? Ten?”
“Very funny.” He reached for another Oreo and she moved the package away. “Hey!”
“You’ve had enough. You’re going to get sick.”
He frowned at her. “You must be one mean mother.”
“Nope,” Nina said. “No kids.”
Alex sat back. “Did I just put my foot in it?”
“Nope,” Nina said again. “Never wanted any. I’m just not the maternal type.”
“Now that’s interesting.” Alex leaned forward again and snagged another cookie while she was off guard. “I never want any, either. Neither does Stella. Max says he gets enough babies delivering them. I’ve always figured it was our lousy childhoods since we all lost parents. What’s your excuse?”
“I’m the oldest of six kids,” Nina said. “I already raised five brothers and sisters. I’m done.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. “No mom?”
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