Saving Dr. Tremaine

by Jessica Matthews

  His familiar scent wafted out of the fabric like a consoling presence, but to her dismay it only made her feel his loss more acutely. She gazed at the case holding his set of bagpipes and memories of him holding a concert at the fire station on summer evenings assailed her.

  She would like to practice, but Jared would hear and she didn’t want to distract him from mending his fences with his sisters. Unable to stay within her four walls, she grabbed the instrument and headed to the basement.

  “She’s not there,” Carrie told Jared when she returned from Annie’s apartment.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know, but she didn’t answer.”

  He frowned. Where could she be? Then, because Annie could conceivably be anywhere, doing anything, he said, “Leave a note on her door. Ask her to come over as soon as she gets home. I want you two to meet her.”

  “We did, remember?”

  He shook his head. “You only said hello. I want you to really meet her.”

  “We have all weekend, Jared.”

  “No, you don’t. She works as a paramedic for the fire department. Once she leaves for work in the morning, she won’t be home until after eight a.m. on Monday.”

  “Wait a minute,” she protested. “I thought she was one of the hospital’s VPs.”

  “You’re thinking of Erica. Erica Brown.”

  “You have two women in your life?” Carrie raised an eyebrow. “No wonder we always had to call you instead of vice versa.”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions. Erica and I were good friends, but we’ve parted ways.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” he added crossly. “And before you ask any more questions, don’t, because I won’t answer them.”

  “All right,” Carrie said, “but we want to know how you managed to coerce Annie into looking after you.”

  “She volunteered. We’ve already had a trial run of living in each other’s hip pocket, so it seemed like a good idea.”

  “What?” Carrie almost screeched. “You’re living together?”

  “No,” he protested at her inaccurate conclusion, although the idea didn’t sound bad at all. After explaining about the electricity fiasco, he added, “Her work schedule is somewhat flexible, so she suggested this plan. Of course, it was contingent upon you, too.”

  “So we have Annie to thank,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Yes.”

  “You know, Jared, that you could just move home with us for the next month or so.”

  He shook his head. “You have your own lives and I don’t want to interfere more than necessary.”

  “You’re still holding a grudge over our last family meeting, aren’t you?” Carrie asked. “We love you, Jared, and we know how you felt about Mom not taking care of herself, but you had to give us the leeway to make our own decisions and mistakes.”

  “Like Todd did?”

  “He’s not the same person he was when he was sixteen. You have to stop blaming yourself for him choosing the wrong crowd. The harder you tried to rein him in, the more he rebelled.”

  “Maybe if I’d been at home more often, I would have seen the signs and stopped him before he landed in juvenile hall.”

  “If you’d been home any more, you would have only held on tighter. Believe me, even with your hours at the hospital, our house was like a prison,” she said ruefully. “And those few months away turned Todd’s life around. He’d be the first to tell you that.”

  Logically, he knew that she was right, but in his heart he still felt as if he’d failed, not just his brother but his parents as well. He’d preached long and often about how character counted and how the friends they chose reflected that character. It had taken years for that lesson to soak into his brother’s head.

  Lynn strode in at that moment, hauling two suitcases. “If I’d known you’d packed bricks, Carrie, I wouldn’t have volunteered to bring these in.”

  “Forget the cases,” Carrie said impatiently. “Help me talk some sense into Jared.”

  “Haven’t you learned it’s a lost cause?” Lynn said as she dropped the two bags. “Did you find Annie?”

  Carrie shook her head.

  “Too bad. By the way, Jared, when I was walking in, I heard someone playing the bagpipes in the basement.

  He sounded really good.” He smiled, relieved to know where she was. “Annie plays the bagpipes.”

  “Really? She seems like an interesting woman.”

  “She is. She’s been great.”

  And what do your friendships say about you?

  The comment he’d spouted at his siblings for years drifted out of his subconscious. Strangely enough, Erica seemed so one-dimensional whereas Annie was like a multifaceted diamond.

  He was glad that Erica was out of the picture and as for Annie, he simply couldn’t stay away from her. She was light and laughter and, whether she realized it or not, she needed him.

  But could he give her everything she needed?

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANNIE dragged herself home on Monday morning, eager to take a nap, but first she had to check on Jared and assure herself that he was still in one piece. According to Carrie’s phone call last night, she and Lynn were leaving early this morning so Jared wouldn’t have been alone for too long.

  Thinking of his sisters, she smiled. They’d made her day when they’d both thanked her for giving back their brother to them, which made her glad that she’d asked permission to work forty-eight-hour shifts instead of twenty-four for a few weeks. It would be easier on Jared’s family if they could look after him for two days at a time instead of making their three-hundred-mile round trip every other day.

  She let herself in, not surprised that the apartment was quiet. Quiet, that was, until she approached his bedroom and heard Jared’s voice over the television.

  “It’s about time you got home.”

  She walked in. “How did you know I was here?”

  “The floorboard in the hallway creaks.” He looked closely at her. “You look tired.”

  “I could use a nap,” she admitted, “but it can wait until later. Are you ready to start the day?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  She helped him swing his legs off the bed, noticing he was wearing a different pair of athletic shorts and nothing else. As she held on to his waist, feeling his bare chest against her body as she tucked herself against him, all thoughts of sleeping disappeared.

  “No chair,” he said firmly. “I’m tired of sitting and I’d rather walk so my good leg won’t grow weak.”

  “If you say so,” she said, determined not to let him see how he was affecting her. It seemed odd that she saw men without shirts and sporting the shadows of their beards all the time, but none of them sent her heart rate soaring. “We’ll take it slow and easy.”

  Slow and easy. She had a mental view of other things she’d like slow and easy. On the other hand, she wouldn’t mind if those events turned into fast and furious.

  “Let me know if you need to stop before we get there,” she said, as they entered the hallway.

  “I will.”

  She escorted him into the bathroom. “What can I do to help you?”

  “I’ll take it from here,” he said wryly.

  “Let me know when you’re ready for another jaunt,” she said, determined to focus on his eyes rather than his broad chest. Without giving him a chance to reply, she quickly closed the door between them.

  When he finally opened the door again, his morning beard had disappeared and droplets of water clung to his chest.

  “I hope you didn’t get your cast wet,” she fretted.

  “No, but washing my face got a little messy. I can’t wait for a real bath.”

  “Maybe we can work on that tonight,” she said, without thinking. Then she realized what she’d said and wondered how she’d manage such a feat. Not only would she have a slippery Jared to deal with, but she’d have a naked Jared as well.

 
; She wondered if he’d considered that, but as he replied, “Good,” she decided that he probably didn’t think of her any differently than one of his impersonal nurses.

  What a relief…and a disappointment.

  “Do you need to change clothes?” she asked.

  “I did last night. I can use a shirt, though. Check the middle drawer.”

  After making Jared comfortable at the table with a cup of coffee from the pot Carrie and Lynn had brewed before they’d left, Annie ferreted through his dresser in search of a shirt. It seemed so domestic to be selecting his clothes out of the tidy stacks in his drawers. It was also far too easy to imagine doing this on a long-term basis. Unless he somehow changed his tune about having a family of his own, it would never happen.

  Clutching a blue button-down shirt in her hand, she returned to the kitchen. “How’s this?” she asked.

  “Perfect.” He allowed her to slide one short sleeve over his cast before he slipped his good hand through the other. It seemed a shame to cover her view, but she wasn’t completely disappointed when he told her to leave it unbuttoned.

  After a hearty breakfast, she left him in the living room with the morning newspaper while she went home to shower. By the time she returned she was more than ready for a catnap.

  “What happened in the last forty-eight hours?” he asked.

  She stifled a yawn. “The usual. A car wreck that wasn’t too serious. A man complaining of chest pain that was actually indigestion. A diabetic who went into hypoglycemia. The usual nursing-home calls of people falling or having pneumonia and needing hospitalization. Two prisoners at the county jail got into a fight in their cell and we had to haul them to the hospital. That took for ever.”

  “I can imagine. Any fires?”

  “Not a one.” This time, she couldn’t stop her yawn.

  “I think I’m ready to lie down again,” he said.

  “Really?” She frowned. “You haven’t been out of bed for long. An hour at the most.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m tired.”

  “OK.” She helped him back to his room.

  “I think I’ll sit up instead,” he decided.

  She wanted to point out that he’d asked to lie down, then decided it required more energy to argue than to humor him. As soon as he was settled against a backrest of pillows, he patted the bed beside him and raised one eyebrow.

  “I couldn’t,” she protested, aware of how inviting the space looked.

  “Why not?” he asked. “You’re tired.”

  “But I might roll over and hurt your leg,” she protested.

  “Are you a restless sleeper?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Her bed usually didn’t require much effort to make each morning.

  “Then we’ll be fine. And if you should happen to get rough…” he grinned a feral grin “…my cast can handle it.” He thumped the surface. “See?”

  “I’d worry less about hurting you if I slept on your sofa. Or went home.”

  “But it wouldn’t be easier for me if I needed you,” he reminded her.

  It wasn’t as if anything untoward would happen, she told herself. He’d made an innocent offer and she was acting like a prude.

  “OK,” she said, as she gingerly lowered herself onto the left side of the mattress. “But wake me in an hour. No matter what.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  As she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she smiled, imagining exactly how he could fulfill her wishes.

  “Annie.”

  Jared jostled her shoulder as he spoke her name, hoping to gently coax her out of her sound sleep. Her left leg lay across his thighs and he’d rather she didn’t make any sudden, startled movements.

  “Hmm?” she mumbled.

  He tried again. “Annie. If you don’t wake up now, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  She snuggled closer. “Yes, I will.”

  Under other circumstances, he’d have been more than happy to hold her for the rest of the day with her head resting on his shoulder and her arm flung across his chest, but she’d insisted on an hour’s nap and two and a half hours had passed.

  “Annie, your time’s up.”

  She sighed. “OK. I’m opening my eyes.”

  He’d wondered how she’d react to finding herself sprawled against him, then soon found out. She stiffened, then gingerly raised her head off his shoulder.

  “I am so sorry,” she apologized, avoiding his gaze as her face turned a rosy pink and she eased her leg off his body.

  Before she could move her arm, he anchored it to him with his cast. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mind.”

  She’d curled into a ball shortly after she’d fallen asleep, then had inched toward him as if seeking warmth. Once she’d burrowed against his body, she hadn’t moved.

  “We should get up,” she said, making no attempt to escape.

  “We should,” he agreed, content to stay in this position.

  “There are chores waiting.”

  “Probably,” he agreed, although he couldn’t think of a single one.

  “What would you like to do today? Stroll around the complex? Go to the park?”

  “Go to work?” he asked hopefully.

  She giggled. “That isn’t my decision, or yours.”

  “I guess not. Before I forget, Nate is coming by after school to play video games.”

  “That should be fun. I’ll run errands while you’re occupied. Are you low on anything?”

  “Toothpaste.”

  His doorbell rang and he mentally grumbled at the interruption. “I’ll get it,” she said, springing off the bed and dashing from the room.

  Jared slowly maneuvered himself to a sitting position, eager to fast-forward in time to the day when he wouldn’t be hindered by plaster. If he talked Annie into sharing his bed at that point, they definitely wouldn’t be sleeping much, if at all.

  “Look out!”

  Annie heard Nate’s shout as she walked into Jared’s apartment at five with his toothpaste. She immediately dropped the box and rushed into the living room, expecting to hear and see a catastrophe.

  Instead, she saw both of them parked in front of the television, with Nate giving Jared pointers.

  “You can’t run him into the wall,” the youngster said, his eyes glued to the screen.

  “I’m not trying to.” Jared sounded both frustrated and excited as he steered his car along a road that snaked its way around both natural and man-made obstacles.

  “Watch out for the pedestrian!”

  Jared’s “Oops” brought a smile to Annie’s face. So far they hadn’t noticed her arrival and she was content to watch them play. She’d wondered how Jared would fare with this activity, but they’d plainly thought of a solution. Jared held the left side of the two-handed controller while Nate held the right. Each pushed the buttons necessary to animate and move their car and it was obvious that the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing.

  “You killed him.” Nate groaned. “That cost us two hundred points.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s OK. Drive straight.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Annie watched the two heads together, and realized that this picture reflected exactly what she wanted in her life. Jared was obviously enjoying himself and she hoped that times like these would make him realize what he was missing. Once he came to that conclusion, he’d correct it.

  “You gotta watch those, Doc,” Nathan said. “Go left. Left. Not right, left!”

  From Annie’s vantage point, she saw the roadster leap off the cliff into a ravine and seconds later, “Game Over” appeared on the screen.

  “Damn!”

  Jared had obviously forgotten he was in the company of an eight-year-old. She cleared her throat to capture his attention. Monica wouldn’t appreciate it if her son came home with an enhanced vocabulary, although Nate had probably heard worse language from his classma
tes. “Hi, guys.”

  Jared looked up at her. “Hi. You’re back already or did you forget something?”

  “I’ve been gone for an hour and a half.”

  He glanced at the clock and grinned sheepishly. “I guess so.”

  “There’s no need to ask if you’d missed me,” she said lightly. “Or if you had fun while I was gone.”

  “We did,” Nate assured her. “He needs to practice, though. His side of the controller has the directional buttons, but he has trouble with left and right. It will come, though. If he practices,” he finished importantly.

  “Just wait until I can use my right hand,” Jared boasted. “Then look out.”

  Nate grinned. “I’ll bring my second controller and we’ll race each other to see who’s the best.”

  “You’re on.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’d better run home before your mom thinks you’re lost.”

  “Yeah, I gotta get ready for my game tonight. Wish us luck.”

  “Good luck,” Jared told him.

  Satisfied by the answer, Nate waved goodbye and left.

  “Would you like to go to the field?” Annie asked. “It would be fun.”

  “I don’t remember ball parks being wheelchair-accessible when I played.”

  “Times have changed. We can drive by and check it out. If not, we’ll come home.”

  We’ll come home. It had a nice ring to it, and Annie wondered if Jared had noticed it as well.

  “All right. We can try.”

  Pleased that he’d agreed, Annie arranged their outing with all the planning of a military general. She packed bottles of water in a small ice chest, found a can of mosquito repellent and two lawn chairs and stowed them in her car before she parked next to the curb in a no-parking zone.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t get a ticket,” Jared said as she wheeled him to her waiting vehicle. “Or, worse yet, a tow.”

  She dismissed his concern. “I work for the city. I know who to call.”

  Unfortunately, the path from the parking lot to the stands was gravel and impossible to navigate. Undaunted, Annie parked on the grass near the chain-link fence surrounding the field, set up her chairs and soon had Jared settled for the game.