I handed each gift to Noah and helped him rip into them while Grandma snapped more pictures. I had pushed mine to the back, so it would be opened last, sure it would be the best present of all. That morning, Grandma had told me not to feel jealous about Noah getting a bunch of presents and attention. I didn’t understand what she was talking about.
I reached for the final item and handed it to Noah. “Gentle,” I said, holding the corner of it. We both pulled the paper off, and I heard Dad’s feet shuffle over. The cherry wood frame held a picture of Mom, the same hazel eyes as Noah and I had, sparkling beneath a slight squint from the sun. I peered up at my dad, pride swelling in my chest. “Grandma helped me pick the frame,” I said.
His eyes glazed over as he took in the image. His finger reached out and touched the outside edge of her face framed by the same thick brown hair as I had. I watched him as he stood frozen like that, my smile fading with every second.
A hand grasped the frame and gently pulled it from the three of us. “It’s beautiful, Gray,” Grandma said, reaching out and squeezing my hand.
“I think it’s time for Noah’s nap,” Dad said, rubbing his face again.
“It’s his birthday, Daddy. Not yet.” I had reserved my demands for things that were important to me, thinking someday they’d be all used up. But today seemed like a good day for one.
“Sure. That’s fine,” Dad said. He lifted Noah out of his booster while Grandma straightened the table and watched him out of the corner of her eye, the same way she watched me. Did she think we couldn’t take care of Noah? Was it because she thought we hadn’t taken care of my mom? “Happy Birthday, Son,” Dad said, pulling Noah to his chest.
Grandma and I caught each other staring and smiling. She nodded and winked at me. Then, she turned to call toward the living room. “Girls…make yourselves useful and come clean up these dishes.” I wondered if Grandma knew I’d be secretly happy they didn’t get to watch TV anymore.
Becca got herself out of kitchen duty by offering to push Noah and me on the swings in the backyard.
“Aunt Becca, do you have a boyfriend?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“Hush your mouth, baby mama.”
That’s what they called me when Grandma wasn’t around, but it didn’t bother me.
After she got bored, she left us on a big blanket on the grass, playing with some of his new toys. I’d told everyone ahead of time to get Noah presents to help him learn. Mom always told me how smart I was, and I didn’t want Noah to end up a dummy.
Sitting across from me, I took his little finger and pressed the A on the frog’s belly. “A says a,” it sang.
“See, that’s an A,” I added when the song ended. He picked up the frog, practically as big as he was, and tried to hug it. I set the frog back down and tried a couple more letters, but he only wanted to hug it. Becca had said he was too young for the toy before she walked off. Maybe she wasn’t as dumb as I’d thought.
I decided to try the pointing game we’d often played. “Where’s the swing?”
He pointed to the swing with a slobbery grin.
“Where’s Noah?”
He put the palm of his little hand on his tummy.
“You know,” I said, glancing up to the sky. “Mommy is here for your birthday. You see…the sky is Gray.”
He copied me and looked up, making me feel happy and proud. “Yes, good. And where is mommy, Noah?”
He pointed at me like he often did.
“No, I’m not Mommy. I’m Gray. Where’s Mommy?”
He just looked at me.
“Can you give Mommy a kiss?”
He pursed his slippery lips and wrinkled his brow. I took his hand, brought two fingers to his lips, and made a kiss sound. “Mwaa.” Then, I raised his hand to the sky.
CHAPTER 4
--------------------------
Of the all places for Dr. Harrison to end up, that was the last place I wanted it to be. Maybe one of his crazies had OD’d and had been rushed to the emergency room. It was Friday afternoon, and I’d trailed Dr. “Bullets Bounce Off My Chest” Harrison all the way from his office parking lot to St. Helena Hospital in Napa Valley. I hadn’t planned to add stalker to the already long list of my mental deficiencies. My intention was to go to his office and explain to him in an extremely professional and rational manner that he must take me on as a patient. I think a small part of me, hidden away, had to know why he wasn’t on the referral list. Had he refused me, or did Dr. Wallace not want me to see him for some reason? Whatever had happened, I’d convinced myself that this time I would take it seriously. I’d almost lost my job, I’d slept with a total stranger, and worst of all, Nathan had almost walked out of my life completely. So this was it. And my best shot was not another Dr. Wallace clone. There was something different about Dr. Harrison that drew me to him in a way that made me believe there was a chance I could open up to him.
The good doctor continued to sit in his car, a black, two-door sporty looking thing in which I pictured him driving his tall, skinny date to the opera. A long leg finally extended out of the door, and he emerged, glancing aimlessly back in my direction. He hadn’t noticed me, but chills broke out on my arms.
I got out and followed his path, picking up my pace so I wouldn’t be too far behind. Once inside, he seemed to have a predetermined destination as he bypassed the nurses’ station. I noticed he gave them a quick wave and a smile, the two women responding in a way that showed he’d been there before. A certain giddiness flashed in the smile of the younger woman who kept her eyes on his departure a bit too long.
I quickly turned my sight from them in case they were to ask me if I required assistance. Dr. Harrison turned down a corridor to the left; I slowed to protect my position. My heart rate increased at the thought of him turning and seeing me. A ridiculous fear, given that my intention had been for him to eventually see me.
When the hallway came to end with two paths heading in different directions, he took a right. I stopped, leaning against the wall. The sign on the wall where he’d turned also had an arrow going left with the words “Maternity Ward” written above. A place that signified life, hope, and happiness for so many people every day, ironically meant something entirely opposite to me. For a moment, I saw myself, seven years old, sitting next to Grandma crying, her arm wrapped around me, pressing me into her side. No sounds had escaped her, but her body vibrated, convulsing beside mine. She’d tried to hide her pain from me, because that’s what you do when you love someone. You don’t let them see you sad or hurt. You push it down or lock it away and never let it out no matter how hard it pounds on the door.
“Can I help you with something?” a male orderly said, walking slowly by.
“No, thank you.”
He smiled, continuing on in the direction I needed to go. He made the same right Dr. Harrison had, so I waited a bit before heading that way. My uncertain steps took me around the corner, but I slowed, even further regretting the whole plan. He hadn’t seen me. Who knew if he’d even recognize me if he did? Turning back was still an option.
A young man in torn jeans and white T-shirt pulled an IV pole, approaching me with a hard stare. It hit me when he was steps away that I had been gazing in his direction contemplating my next move.
“You lost, Dorothy?” he said when my eyes found his.
I blinked and drew in a breath surprised by not only him but his condition. His eyes were sweet, but tired and sallow. “Oh, no…I’m fine.” My voice came out louder than I’d planned and echoed around us. Up ahead, Dr. Harrison approached a door. His head turned to me, and then after glancing back toward the door, he did a double take. Our eyes met, spiking gooseflesh on the back of my neck. Busted. Recognition flashed across his face for a few beats before someone got his attention, directing him into the room.
The young man nodded, shuffling on his way. I stood, immobile, in the middle of a waiting area that appeared to be connected to a treatment wing. An ol
der woman in a floral print dress walked arm in arm with a nurse over to a row of specialized recliner chairs. Suddenly, my presence felt invasive…wrong. Whatever brought Dr. Harrison there was none of my business. I turned, heading back the way I came, heat flushing my skin. My feet stalled when I reached the maternity ward, then somehow, kept going straight instead of making the turn to reach the exit.
A woman up ahead riding in a wheelchair rested her hands with care on her extended belly while a small child skipped merrily beside her. The girl wore a denim skirt with white leggings underneath. Her long brown hair was twisted into a braid, and when it flew to the side as she whipped her head back to me, my heart sank. I gaped at the vision of my younger self, smiling, lit with excitement over the arrival of my new baby brother. Shallow breaths struggled in and out of my lungs as I watched her.
I sped up to gain a better view of the woman whose familiar thick brown hair shadowed her face. What I would have given to see her one more time. To feel her arms around me, rubbing my back and telling me I was her beautiful Gray. The nurse pushing the woman turned into a room before I caught up. The little girl shrugged with a shy grin before disappearing into the same room, leaving me struggling to calm my breathing. When will the ghosts of my past cease to haunt my present?
“Excuse me.” The deep voice slid in my ear from a presence I sensed inches behind me.
I turned to find Dr. Harrison looking down on me with an ominous expression, his midnight blue eyes darkening. My hesitation was so miniscule I was sure he hadn’t caught it. Considering my current state, I marveled at how quickly I pulled myself together. “Yes.” I raised my eyebrows and feigned confusion.
“Miss…Gray was it?”
“Yes, I’m Gray.” I gave him a surprised, welcoming smile. “Oh, Dr. Harrison. Nice to see you again.”
He glanced around us and then back to me as if the answer to whatever question plagued him would materialize from the air. “I thought that was you I saw back in—”
“It’s crazy to run into you here,” I interrupted. “My neighbor sprained her ankle stepping off a curb.”
“And she’s here…in the maternity ward?”
I almost laughed at this curve ball, but I had no problem swinging. “Yeah. She’s only a few weeks along, but they tend to be cautious, so they’re keeping her overnight.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, taken aback and running a hand over his jet-black hair. “I guess I was mistaken….”
“She’s fine. Just a little scraped up and frazzled. Could have been worse if she’d stepped in front of that bus.” I observed his face as he took in my words, trying to keep up. “I heard it could have gone either way, you know. Lucky for her, she fell backwards instead of forwards.”
His brows pulled together like two conspirators. Then, he smiled and turned his head to the side as if his pleasure was not to be seen. “Well, I won’t keep you,” he said, looking back at me. “Good to see you again.” He stepped away, pulling the phone from his pocket and tapping it a few times.
What the hell was I waiting for? Clark had thrown my plan out of whack. Now, my heart raced for a different reason. I loathed playing defense. So, I stepped up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Dr. Harrison?”
He turned.
“Could I speak to you for a moment?”
He eyed me suspiciously and then looked at his phone again. “I suppose I have a little time.” He looked to the opposite side of the hospital. “Coffee?”
I followed him to a small cafeteria where we slid through the empty line, each grabbing our own coffee and paying separately after I refused his offer. We found a little wobbly table near the entrance. He pulled out my chair and then sat across from me.
“So, Miss Gray, what can I do for you?” His eyes poured over me as if he were about to dig into a fascinating novel.
I leaned forward in my chair, resting my elbows on the table. “Well…first, you can get my name right. It’s Gray. Just Gray.”
His eyes widened. “I apologize. I recall you mentioned another name when we first met…Sky, I believe.” The confidence in his tone beefed up at his recollection. “That must be where the confusion started.”
“You’re right. I should apologize too then. Sky is my middle name.”
He paused and then smiled, turning his head to the side as he’d done before. Before he could say anything, I spoke again. “Yes, my name is Gray Sky…Donovan.”
He brought his attention back to me. “That’s very…unique.”
I sipped my coffee while I took a moment to examine his features. His black hair was short and stylish, smooth above his ears but wavy as it moved toward the top. While he was clean shaven when I saw him in the office, now he sported a light shadow of facial hair. His midnight blue eyes, upon further inspection, were dotted with tiny flecks of warm light as if some inner beam pulsed to escape, and I got lost in them before pulling the cup from my lips.
A chill skimmed across my skin, and I set the coffee down onto the table to rub my arms. Damn hospitals were always so cold.
“That tetanus shot acting up?” he said, deadpan.
I stopped rubbing and froze for a second. I couldn’t hold back a grin. “No, I’m just cold,” I said, challenging him.
He nodded. “So, Gray Sky, what is the story behind the name?”
I ran my fingers through my hair and looked sideways at him. “Who said there’s a story? It’s possible my parents were hippy freaks.”
He gaped at me over his coffee cup, deciding. “Okay, so what can I do for you, Miss, I mean, Gray?” He leaned back, his expression wavering between interest and impatience.
I wondered if he’d bought that answer, or he just didn’t care, but I wanted to keep his interest. And, for some reason, I suddenly felt the compulsion to tell him what he wanted to know. “My mom told me this story about my name...and somehow it always stuck with me.”
He narrowed his eyes in anticipation.
“She said the day she went into labor a storm was coming, the sky filled with dark brooding clouds. My father drove her in the middle of the night to the hospital, and just as they were assigned a room, the sky unloaded. Thunder and lightning boomed and collided with the moans and cries of my mother in labor. When I was born, the storm had been moving away. She said she thought the clouds brought me. Maybe she was a hippie freak, but she was also a beautiful loving person.” I’d been looking at a spot on the wall beyond his head while speaking that whole time. His fervent face came into focus as he leaned forward and something plunged into my gut. That story had spilled out of me exactly once in my life, when I told Nathan after a night of margaritas. Now, my whole being had felt exposed and vulnerable. As I caught his eyes connecting with mine, I blew out a breath and looked away. “Anyway…she named me Gray Sky because she said…even a gray sky can bring you something beautiful.”
I grabbed my cup and looked down at it, away from his penetrating gaze. After a moment, I glanced up. He smiled, turning his head to the side once again. He may have been analyzing me, but I had this guy’s number. He was already giving away his tell. I needed something to regain my footing.
We sat staring at each other, comfortably, not in an awkward way. Then, he said, “That’s really an incredible story. Very…telling.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He pulled his eyes away and picked up his phone, concentrating on the screen. “Uh…Listen, I’m going to need to—”
“I’d like to ask you a question,” I said quickly. “As you know, Dr. Wallace is leaving town, and I had previously been seeing her.” As soon as I let that slip, I realized it wasn’t what I’d told him before. Another disadvantage to being a liar: It wasn’t always easy to keep track. His eyebrows rose as he tilted his head to the side. “Anyway,” I continued. “She gave me a list of doctors I could choose from to continue my…to continue with. And I was wondering why you weren’t on the list.”
“Do you have the list with yo
u?”
“No, I don’t.”
“What I can tell you is that I respect Dr. Wallace, and I’m sure whomever she selected for that list must have been doctors she felt would be best for you.”
My eyes rolled, and I sipped my drink.
“You don’t agree?”
I tilted my head and shot him confirmation with my expression.
“Are you saying you don’t trust Dr. Wallace’s judgment?”
“What I’m saying is that Dr. Wallace and I just didn’t…click. I can’t afford to end up with someone she thinks would be good because they’re probably exactly like her.”
He furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. ‘Exactly like her’?”
“Look, Dr. Harrison, what’s the big deal? I need a doctor. You’re a doctor. Shouldn’t I get to pick who I want to see?”
He appeared unfazed by the change in my demeanor. “That makes sense and is true to a point. The problem is that…I’m not taking on any new patients at this point.”
“Oh. I see.” I couldn’t cover my unexpected disappointment.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
I held my hand up. “I’m not upset.”
“If you’d like me to take a look at the list, maybe I can provide some insight.”
“I appreciate that.” In my mind, I’d already ripped up the list and tossed it. “How about a waiting list?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t really work like that.” He pulled out his wallet, flipped it open, and dug into one of the pockets. “Here’s my card. It has my email and number on it. You can message the list to me, and I’ll take a look.”
I stood, taking the card from his hand as my mouth pulled into a tight line. A sense of irrational rejection washed over me. Dr. Harrison had just sealed my fate. “Thank you for your time, Doctor.”
Compulsive (Liar #1) Page 3
