The Doctor's Family Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  “They gotta live somewhere.”

  You have a vacant apartment.

  No. She had a studio.

  One you won’t have any time to use this summer.

  “Do you still lease the apartments over Adventures in Pink?”

  “It’s extra income. Yes.” That voice inside her head was louder than ever now. God, I do not want Trent living at Adventures in Pink. Not when I could lose my heart to him at any moment. Still, if she wanted any peace...

  She stole another truffle. A lavender one, hoping for calm. “As a matter of fact, I...have one apartment left. It’s small, but—”

  Those brown eyes went wide. “Small is fine.”

  Great. “Then, I guess it’s ready whenever you are.”

  “You mean it?” The whimsical look on his face was priceless.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perfect! Can I move in tomorrow?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After church, Trent packed his things, loaded up his truck and checked out of his motel. Now he stared at the blue building on Seventh Avenue, amazed at what God was doing in his life.

  Somehow God would restore his relationship with Blakely. Though how that could happen when Trent was in Albuquerque, he didn’t have a clue.

  Last night he’d again tried to tell her. Only to be interrupted—again. So, for now, he decided to let it go.

  Inside Adventures in Pink, people milled about, waiting for the next tour.

  “Yes. Your guide will make frequent stops, so there’ll be plenty of opportunities for pictures.” Blakely’s voice came from somewhere behind the group. “Does everyone have water?”

  A few held up bottles.

  “Staying hydrated is very important at this altitude.”

  Trent jockeyed around a husky gentleman wearing a beige fedora. A few feet away, a gray-haired woman Trent assumed was the man’s wife held up two T-shirts sporting hummingbirds and lettering that read Ouray, Colorado. “Should I get the purple or the pink?”

  Preferring to remain inconspicuous until the crowd dissipated, Trent found an empty corner near the front window and waited. Funny. Not one canine had greeted him.

  Then he noticed Ellie Mae sashaying across the blue-gray carpet, tail swishing from side to side. She nuzzled her head under his hand and sat on his feet. As Trent rubbed, her eyes closed, her tongue hung out one side of her mouth, and he was certain she smiled.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.” The sound of Austin’s voice captured Trent’s attention.

  He lifted his head and saw his son behind the ceramic-tile-topped snack bar, passing out bottled water to guests who’d opted for the last-minute purchase. The boy smiled at each person as they handed him their money.

  Between Sunday school and worship service, Trent had heard all about Austin’s sleepover with Zach. Although he had a sneaking suspicion there hadn’t been much sleeping involved.

  A man looking every bit the cowboy, from his boots to his Wranglers and straw Stetson, swept into the room, jerking Trent’s attention back to the here and now. “Everyone on the one-thirty tour to Yankee Boy Basin, if you’d please make your way outside.”

  A mass exodus followed as the man Trent presumed was one of Blakely’s guides grabbed a paperwork-topped clipboard. He spoke briefly with Blakely before joining the group outside.

  Trent emerged from his hiding place as the door eased to a close.

  “Dad!” Austin bounded around the snack counter. “I was wondering when you were gonna get here.”

  Across the room, behind a counter-high glass display case filled with geological finds, Blakely wore an apprehensive smile. Did she regret her decision to rent to him?

  He continued toward the L-shaped desk. “Well, I’m here now and ready to move in.”

  “I’ve, uh, I’ve got your contract all ready.” Blakely pulled out a file folder and set it on the counter. “It’s a standard month-to-month lease.”

  She went over the highlights of the agreement, then handed him a pen.

  Austin watched as he signed. “I can’t believe you’re going to be living here. This is so cool.”

  Blakely held out a set of keys. “Yours is the unit at the front of the building.”

  “The one with the balcony?” The best apartment of the three. That was a pleasant surprise.

  “Yes.”

  He high-fived Austin. “I’ve got a view of Hayden Mountain.”

  “I’m sure you remember the way but, just in case, Austin, would you like to show Trent to his apartment?”

  “Sure. Can I help him bring his stuff in, too?”

  “That’ll be fine.” She returned the papers to the folder. “As long as it’s okay with Trent.”

  “’Course it is. Not that I’ve got much.”

  “The larger key is to the door at the bottom of the stairs, and the smaller one is to your apartment. The outside door is to remain locked at all times.”

  “Got it.” He turned to Austin. “Come on, buddy, let’s get to work.”

  Austin bolted out the door ahead of Trent and toward the pickup. “This is so great. We can hang out all the time now.”

  “Hold up there, Austin. You may be on summer break, but I still have to work.”

  “Oh, yeah.” His face scrunched in disappointment before brightening once again. “But when you’re not, you’ll be right here.”

  Trent ruffled Austin’s hair, his heart light. “That’s right, son. I’ll be right here.”

  Wispy white clouds drifted aimlessly overhead, accentuating what was otherwise a lazy Sunday afternoon.

  Trent handed Austin a duffel bag, then grabbed the rolling suitcase and a box containing books and files.

  “I can carry more.” The way the kid listed under the weight didn’t bolster his claim.

  “Sorry, this is all there is.”

  “Really?” The boy peered inside the vehicle as if he didn’t believe him.

  “Most of my stuff is still back in Albuquerque.” Which meant a trip to Montrose might be in order. First, he’d better scope out the apartment to see exactly how furnished the place was.

  On the east side of the building, near the garage bays, Austin unlocked the door to an inside stairwell. Trent followed his son, glancing down the narrow corridor at the top. Funny, he hadn’t remembered it being quite so compact.

  Austin shifted the bag to his other hand. “Maybe I can even sleep over sometimes.” He shrugged. “That is, when you don’t have to work.”

  “Great idea.” Trent unlocked the door to their left. “Just us bachelors.”

  “Yeah, no girls allowed.”

  “Root beer and buffalo wings for—”

  What will Austin think when he finds out you’re leaving? That you chose work over him?

  “Open the door, Dad.”

  “Sorry.” Stepping inside, Trent let go a low whistle. “This doesn’t look at all like I remembered.”

  An inviting shade of golden orange warmed his temporary abode. Scanning the small living room, he noted even the ceiling had been painted. A lighter yellow-gold that brightened the whole space.

  This place had Blakely written all over it.

  He set the box on what he thought was a wood floor, though, upon further inspection, turned out to be vinyl with the look of distressed oak. Smart move, given that college kids weren’t traditionally known for their housekeeping skills.

  While Austin roamed the apartment, flipping on lights, Trent crossed the small sitting area to a glass door that opened onto the balcony overlooking Seventh Avenue. Outside, two stackable lawn chairs flanked a small plastic table. With that view, he’d be spending a lot of time out there.

  Turning back to the living room, he noted the brown leatherlike sofa against the opp
osite wall and two bar stools lining a counter that opened to the small kitchen.

  “The bedroom’s back here.”

  He followed his son’s voice down the short hall, past the bathroom, to a room barely big enough for the full-size bed, side table and chest of drawers that it housed. The bed was stripped bare, and Trent decided his trip to Montrose had better happen fast.

  “Austin?” Blakely’s voice trailed from the other room.

  “Yeah?” The boy took off, and Trent followed.

  Blakely stood in the doorway. “Zach’s mom called. They’re going to the hot springs and wanted to know if you’d like to go.”

  “Can I?”

  Her gaze flicked to Trent then to Austin. “Sure. You probably won’t be home until after dinner, so you’ll need to take some money.”

  Trent reached for his wallet, feeling like a real dad. “How much do you need?”

  The glare Blakely sent him indicated he was out of line. “We have a rule. I only give him enough for his meal. Any snacks are at Austin’s expense. Right?”

  Austin stood between the two of them, his gaze moving from Trent to Blakely. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She rested her hands on his shoulders. “He gets the profits from the drink sales downstairs.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Even if I’m not there to sell it. I just have to keep it stocked.”

  “Sounds like the perfect job for someone your age.” He pulled a five from his wallet, watching for Blakely’s approval. “This okay?”

  She nodded and Austin accepted the money.

  “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.” He took off down the stairs. “I gotta go get my swim trunks.”

  “Don’t forget a towel,” Blakely hollered after him as the lower door slammed close.

  Trent returned the wallet to the back pocket of his jeans. “Thanks for keeping me on track. I’m still trying to get the hang of this parenting thing.”

  “You’re doing fine.”

  “Thanks.” He averted his gaze, trying not to think about his failed attempt to kiss her last night.

  Still standing in the doorway, Blakely gestured inside the apartment with her fingers. “Do you mind if I—?”

  “Not at all.” He stepped aside, allowing her entry. “This place looks fantastic.”

  “Thank you. It was my winter project this year.” She moved toward the kitchen. “I think I left something in here.” She opened a cupboard and pulled out a small plastic box.

  “What’s that?”

  “Some painting supplies.” She shrugged as though it were nothing important. “Paints. Brushes. Palette.”

  “You mean you come up here to paint?”

  “Occasionally. Not—not very often.”

  The way she tried to act like it was nothing had him suspecting it was something. Something that meant a lot to her. Something she’d given up for him.

  * * *

  With Austin gone and not much action at Adventures in Pink, Blakely was forced to find things to keep her mind off of Trent. She responded to email queries about trips and pricing. She refolded T-shirts that had been mussed. She even cleaned the bathroom.

  Imagine. Trent Lockridge living right over her head. Seeing him every day.

  What was she thinking?

  She jumped at the telephone’s tweedle.

  “Adventures in Pink. This is Blakely. How may I help you?”

  “Hey, this is Trent.” The sound of his voice had her insides twisting. “I have a question. Do you think green would match the wall color in my apartment?”

  She choked back a laugh. “Uh, depends on what shade of green.”

  He was silent so long she thought he’d hung up. “You still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m just trying to decide the best way to describe this color.”

  “All right—” She leaned back in her chair as one of her favorite country songs drifted from the speakers across the room. “—try to think of foods or something in nature that looks like it. Like avocado.”

  “The inside or the outside?”

  A burst of laughter spilled out. “Either one.”

  “Nope, not that.”

  “Okay, how about a lime, a pine tree or sage?”

  “You mean like the seasoning?”

  She dropped her head in her hand. Men. To most of them, green was green and blue was blue. “Let’s see if I can make this easier. Is it a dark shade or a light shade?”

  He paused. “More light than dark, but kind of in between.”

  “Does it lean more toward yellow, blue or gray?”

  The rustle of paper or plastic filtered through the line. “Uh...you know that blouse you wore to church today?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s about that color.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be shocked, flattered or annoyed that he’d paid such close attention to her attire. “That should match fine.”

  “Great. Thanks, Blakely.”

  Her curiosity piqued as she hung up the cordless handset. At least she finally had a tenant who cared about his surroundings.

  An hour later, Trent’s pickup pulled into a parking space in front of the building. Blakely wouldn’t have noticed had he not parked right in front of the door. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  He skirted around to the passenger side, opened the door and stooped inside. When he emerged, several plastic bags dangled from one hand. With the other, he tossed the door closed before reaching into the bed of the truck to grab a medium-size box bearing an image of a flat-panel TV. Then he disappeared around the side of the building.

  Tucking her curiosity aside, Blakely checked email, happy to find another inquiry. As she typed her response, Trent appeared in her periphery. She didn’t want to watch him, yet something compelled her. Still more bags, what looked like a bedspread or comforter and—she laughed—a green lampshade.

  He paused outside the screen door and looked right at her. “Something funny in there?”

  She craned her neck as though she couldn’t quite see him. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?”

  Grinning, he walked away.

  She cringed and turned back to the computer.

  Ellie Mae glanced up at her from beneath the counter.

  “What?”

  The dog lifted her brow, brown eyes drooping.

  “I was minding my own business. He just...got in the way. That’s all.”

  Seemingly unconvinced, the canine sighed before dropping her head atop her paws.

  Blakely scowled. “You should’ve stayed home with Jethro.”

  If Trent returned again, she didn’t notice. Instead, she updated trail conditions on the company’s website until the screen door creaked open.

  She turned to find Trent on the other side of the cash register, smiling at her. Rarely had a plain white T-shirt looked so good.

  “I need a favor.”

  “O-kay.”

  “I bought one of those put-it-together-yourself television stands. The box is kind of heavy. Do you suppose I could get you to hold open the door to the stairwell for me?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed the cordless phone, shoved it in the side pocket of her cargo shorts and followed him out the door.

  He lifted the box from the back of his truck and hoisted it onto his shoulder, his muscles bulging.

  “What about that coffeemaker? Does it go up, too?”

  He glanced back. “How could I forget that? Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

  She snatched the box before scurrying to open the side door. “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” She continued behind him, up the stairs.

  “Why? Do I look like I need help?” The smile in his voi
ce was like sweet torture.

  “Not really.”

  He shoved open the door to his apartment and set the box in the middle of the living room before turning to her. “But thanks for asking.”

  Her stomach flip-flopped.

  “Where would you like this?” She held out the coffeemaker.

  “I’ll take it.” His hand brushed hers, setting a tingling wave of excitement dancing up her arm.

  She rubbed the goose bumps away, surveying his purchases. The green stripes in the brown comforter matched the lampshade to a tee. “That’ll look great with the wall color.”

  “I hoped it would.” He set the box on the pass-through between the kitchen and sitting area. “And then I thought the green shade would look good on the lamp on the nightstand.”

  “I’m impressed.” She met his gaze. “Most of my tenants don’t put so much thought into their surroundings.”

  Reaching over, he tucked a wayward hair behind her ear, the heat of his finger searing her skin. “I bet there are a lot of things around here they don’t appreciate.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blakely had less than an hour before the next round of tours, so if she didn’t eat now, she might not get to at all. Dropping the white paper bag on the Adventures in Pink snack bar, she continued to the garage and poked her head around the storm door.

  “Lunch is here.”

  “All right.” Austin wheeled from under Trent’s pickup, still holding the droplight. “I’m starving.” He’d spent the morning helping change the oil and had dark greasy splotches all over his face.

  Trent rolled into view, looking every bit as dirty as her son. Except, on him, the look was incredibly attractive. “Perfect timing. We just finished.” His black T-shirt was taut across his massive chest, the color lending a smoldering appearance to his dark eyes.

  She cleared her throat. “Well, from where I stand, it looks like it’s going to take you guys a while to get cleaned up so you’d better hop to it. Especially you, young man.” She caught her son’s eye. “You can’t sell drinks looking like that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Austin set the droplight on the workbench against the wall.

  Closing the door, she allowed her gaze to linger on Trent. She kind of liked having him around. He was good for Austin.