Damn Wright: The Wrights

by Jordan, Skye

  “Right. Have you taken that job with Vanderbilt?”

  “Not officially.”

  “Do you know Darla Mayberry?”

  Emma wasn’t following this conversation, and the only Darla she knew held an administrative position in upper management. “Sounds familiar. Why?”

  “If you have a minute,” Lisa said, “I may have something that would interest you.”

  Emma followed Lisa into the break room, which was empty. She sat at the table while Lisa poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Darla has put a team of doctors and support personnel together to go to Somalia and Ethiopia,” Lisa told her. “It’s being paid for by private donations in conjunction with the American Red Cross. A team of six physicians and twenty-two support personnel, like nurses, lab techs, and admin. She told me last month that one of her doctors, an internist, took a job in Colorado, so she’s short a physician, and she hasn’t been able to fill the spot. I recently heard about your desire to work overseas.”

  Emma searched her mind for information about Somalia and Ethiopia, but the only thing that came to mind were pirates and the movie with Tom Hanks, Captain Phillips, which she realized was pretty pathetic.

  “I did. I mean, I do.” She explained the situation with her school loans, Shelley’s house, and the renovation, then the offer from Vanderbilt. “It’s just, I’m twenty-nine. If I take the job with Vanderbilt, I’ll be thirty-one by the time I’m free to travel.” She thought of Dylan and Cooper. “I want kids and a family. I don’t think it’s realistic or responsible to go overseas with little kids at home.”

  “I get it,” Lisa said, sitting down across from her with a smile. “You want it all.”

  Emma laughed. “I guess so.”

  Lisa was only in her early forties, but her mother had been a diplomat, and she’d traveled extensively. She’d been doing volunteer work all around the world for decades. “Have you been to either country?”

  “Sure, but it was quite a while ago. I’m sure it’s changed.”

  “To be honest, I was talking to a friend of mine who is a foreign correspondent, and the fighting he described put the fear of God into me.”

  “Where was he?”

  “Syria mostly, but he’s been everywhere in the Middle East.”

  “The Middle East is pretty bleak. I went on two trips there over the last two years, and I don’t see myself going back. It was utter chaos. The streets are killing fields. No one is safe. Not even children. They kill indiscriminately. I still have nightmares about my time there.”

  The pain etched in Dylan’s face when he was talking about his friend Amir flooded her mind, and the ache in her heart bloomed again. He truly had been through hell the last eight years. She understood his desire to stay in the States with his sisters, and Emma agreed it would be the best thing for him. But that didn’t extinguish the dreams burning in her since she was a kid.

  “Full disclosure,” Lisa said, “there has been fighting in the area, but the powers that be have found common ground and it has since ceased. Still, there are tens of thousands of people displaced, living in tents, which, to be honest, is a step up for many. But the community living and lack of food has caused a health crisis.”

  “I’m interested, but I’ve got student loans hanging over my head.” Emma went on to explain her plan on using proceeds from the sale of Shelly’s house to pay them off.

  “Hmm.” Lisa ran her hands through her long hair and twirled it into a messy bun. “I think there was another member of the team in that situation. Let me call Darla.”

  Lisa tapped the face of her phone, then put it to her ear. “Darla. Yeah. Can you tell me how you set up the Somalia trip for that resident with student loans?”

  As Lisa listened, Emma’s stomach jittered with something that felt a lot like fear, but she chose to believe it was excitement.

  “Really,” Lisa said. “That’s so cool. Yeah, Emma Reeves. Right, emergency medicine. Her residency ends in two weeks. Okay, I’ll tell her. Thanks.”

  Lisa disconnected and smiled at Emma. “I think you’re going to like the sound of this.”

  Emma gripped the edge of the chair. “Okay.”

  “Darla said that since your residency hasn’t ended yet, if you sign on, they could consider this an extension, which means payment of your student loans could either be deferred for another year or you could go with the income-based repayment method so your loans would be manageable while you’re on the trip. Personally, I don’t think it matters one way or the other. Interest continues to accrue, regardless. And if you get as much from the house renovation as you think you will, the interest on the loans really won’t amount to anything significant.”

  Emma’s air left her lungs on a slow exhale. “That’s…amazing.”

  “And just to put your mind at ease, whether there is conflict in the area or not, Darla contracts with a security company to supply bodyguards for the team. You’re escorted to and from the hospital, which could simply be another tent in the refugee camp, and locked up tight at night in a residence, be it a private home or a local hotel. Having the beefy guys with M4s within reach twenty-four seven will probably take some getting used to.”

  “No doubt.” Emma had never been more unsure of whether she wanted to take this leap or not. “How long is the trip?”

  Lisa stood. “A year.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. “A year?”

  “It’s a real commitment, but given your desire to work overseas and your financial situation, it makes a lot of sense. It’s really the safest, most conservative way to feel out the humanitarian angle of medicine.”

  God, this was happening so fast. “When does she need an answer?”

  “The team flies out next week.”

  Emma’s face must have registered her shock, because Lisa laughed. “Welcome to the world of volunteering overseas. Nothing is ever set in concrete.”

  “It’s just… This is as close to exactly what I wanted as I can get without going rogue. It almost sounds too good to be true.”

  “Ask and the universe answers.” Lisa stood and patted Emma’s shoulder on her way toward the door. “Darla’s going to send you an email with all the details.”

  Emma covered Lisa’s hand. “Thank you so much.”

  She made her way to her car, feeling overwhelmed. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, but she was suddenly worried about ten different things she’d never considered. And she felt stupid that it had taken getting this offer to realize that. She was also disappointed in herself for being taken off guard. She prized herself on her ability to pivot on a dime in the ER during her shifts. Could manage multiple traumas at a time. Yet when her dream was offered on a silver platter, she fumbled.

  Halfway to her car, Emma’s cell rang, and she saw Dylan’s name on the display. She stopped walking and stared at his name as a waterfall of happiness poured through her. This second chance with Dylan was truly a gift. One year really wasn’t a long time to wait to get her debt paid off and gain the experience she needed to work with Doctors Without Borders on a more permanent basis, all while seeing where time with Dylan took them.

  But she, of all people, knew exactly how fragile life was, how quickly it could be extinguished. Which made those two years feel like forever. What if something happened in those years to kept her from going overseas? Dylan had already done everything he’d wanted to do, but Emma hadn’t. And now she felt pulled between two dreams.

  She took a deep breath and answered. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” The deep, warm timbre of his voice lifted her stomach. “Are you still getting off work at five?”

  “Yes, leaving now, why?”

  “I’m getting the family together for dinner tonight. How does seven sound?”

  The family? Dinner? “What’s going on?”

  “I have good news to share, and I wanted to celebrate with the most important people in my life. You’re at the very tippy top of that list. Pleas
e say you’ll come.”

  What the hell else could she say? “Of course. What news?”

  “I’m not telling until we’re all together. I’ll pick you up a little before seven.”

  He disconnected before she could ask what this news was. She continued to her car with a slower step as her mind veered toward this good news. And she assumed when he said family, he’d meant his family, but something about the way he said it, made her wonder…

  At her car, she dialed her mother.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Debbie answered.

  “Hey, this may seem like a strange question, but what are you doing tonight?”

  “We’re meeting you and Dylan at the Cat Bird Seat. Why are you asking like you don’t know?”

  “Because I didn’t know.” Her stomach swam with unease. “How did you… When did he…” She shook her head. “What’s going on?”

  “Dylan came to the house today,” Debbie said, a little bewilderment in her tone. “You didn’t know?”

  “No. Why?”

  “To talk to us. To apologize for everything that happened and explain himself.”

  “Oh my God.” Emma winced at the thought of her father getting ahold of Dylan. “He must not have talked to Dad. I just talked to Dylan, and he sounded way too happy to have been torn to shreds.”

  “He definitely saw your dad. They talked for two hours. It started out rough, but ended well.”

  “What?”

  “Dylan’s even more charming than he was as a boy.”

  “Tell me about it.” She unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel. “Did he say what this good news is?”

  “No. He just asked us to join him and his sisters.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

  Emma disconnected and stared at her phone a long moment. She didn’t like the idea of this spontaneous get-together at all. The fact that Dylan had gone to her parents and apologized made her insides shiver. It meant he was serious about righting his wrongs. And it had taken humility and vulnerability for Dylan to face her father and pour out his heart. This was a far more mature version of the man she’d married, and she didn’t quite know what to expect from him.

  She thought about calling Dylan back to dig. But if he was going to tell her, he would have already.

  She started her car and put it in Reverse. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

  17

  Emma was definitely on edge by the time she’d showered and slipped into a deep steel blue dress and low, strappy heels. She added a few loose curls to her hair, touched up her makeup and looked at her reflection.

  Her expression hinted at the complex worries playing in her head. The battle between excitement and fear. Her options warred in her head, but when she simplified everything and put the two man locations against each other—Vanderbilt or Somalia—there was really no competition. Only then there was Dylan. And that threw a wrench into everything.

  She wanted to talk to him about it, but they’d already talked about it in theory, and Emma felt like she needed to make this decision on her own. This was her life, her future, her dreams. He hadn’t even been home a full month. While her heart wanted to put him into the equation, her mind told her to stand on her own. Because the last time she’d trusted Dylan, she’d lost everything. Everything.

  A knock on her front door made Emma jump. She tapped her phone face and saw it was almost seven. She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, took a deep breath, and answered the door.

  Dylan stood there in dark jeans, a gray button-down, and sport jacket. His smile was electric, his eyes sparkling. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

  The man could so easily move her. She smiled and stepped back. “You look pretty good yourself. Come in. I just need to grab my jacket.”

  She turned toward the closet and pulled a thigh-length wool trench from a hanger.

  Dylan wandered around the apartment. “You’re still an organizational wizard.”

  She slipped on her jacket and pulled her hair from the collar. Dylan was skimming his fingers along her bookshelf, tilting his head to read the titles. He tipped a book out to read the cover and took it from the shelf.

  “House of God,” he said, grinning. “I loved this book.”

  “Hilarious, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  The cuckoo clock on the wall between the kitchen and the living room chimed. Dylan’s gaze darted toward it just as the shutters on the bird’s nest opened and the cuckoo bird popped out to chirp off the time.

  Dylan’s expression opened in awe. He laid the book on the shelf, forgotten, as all his attention focused on the clock. He moved toward it, lifted his hand to trace the texture of the hand-carved wood.

  The surprise and joy on his face softened into something more poignant, more painful. “You kept it.”

  They’d bought the clock on their honeymoon in Austria. It reminded Emma of their relationship, maybe even more now than when they’d bought it. An entity of beauty honed from a shapeless hunk of wood. A true work of art embodying all the imperfections of anything handcrafted. She couldn’t count the times she’d stared at that clock, wondering where Dylan was and whether or not he was okay. Remembering what they’d once had, and hoping he still thought of her.

  Now he was standing in her living room, wanting another chance. Something she would have given a limb to have at one time.

  “God, what a trip,” he murmured, staring at the clock. “Still the very best week of my life.”

  Hers too. But she was too aware of how completely their lives had veered away from that path. They’d been apart now longer than they’d ever been together. They were more individuals than they were a couple. But she couldn’t deny their time together had marked her for life. This time with him only confirmed that she would always love him. And she knew from experience that love would keep her from ever having a relationship like that again, no matter how amazing the man.

  “We should go,” she said. “We’re already running late.”

  His gaze lingered on the clock for another long moment before he reluctantly pulled his gaze away and approached Emma. When she reached for the door, Dylan took her arms and slid his hands up to her shoulders, then down again, threading their fingers. The look in his eyes was both heartrending and terrifying. So much love. No other man had ever looked at her the way Dylan did. No other man had ever made her feel a tenth of what Dylan did.

  Trips overseas are a dime a dozen, the nagging voice in her head whispered. Dylan is one in a million.

  He pulled their joined hands behind him, bringing their bodies flush. He was warm and strong. Just the feel of him made her head light and her body loose. He dipped his head and kissed her. The scruff of his unshaved beard added dimension to the gentle press of his lips.

  He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “We can have that again. I’m going to prove it to you.”

  She was leaning toward staying home and giving him the chance to do just that. Still, she couldn’t ignore her lifelong dreams tugging at her to go. He’d lived his dreams. She should have the chance to live hers. But maybe that didn’t have to happen right now.

  Emma pushed up on her toes and kissed him again. “We should go.”

  On the way to the car, Dylan asked, “Do you still have our wedding photos?”

  She pictured the album tucked away in the back of a closet where she’d purposely buried it so she had to do major reorganizing to get to it. “I do.”

  He opened the passenger’s door for her. “Can I have one for my wallet?”

  She looked at him. Really looked at him. He had an incredible way of touching her so deeply with such little effort. “Of course.”

  He looked like he was thinking about kissing her again, so Emma slid into the passenger's seat before he could.

  Once they pulled away from the curb, she angled in her seat to look at him. “So, my dad.”

  Dylan winced. “Yeah. That was rough.”

/>   “I can only imagine. How did that go, exactly?”

  “He got the first hour and forty-five minutes. I got the last fifteen.”

  Emma smiled. “I doubt that.”

  “Your dad may normally be a stoic guy, but he had eight years of pent-up words for me.”

  She didn’t need to ask what her father said. She’d heard it all during the years she lived with her parents upon return. When her parents would talk late into the night, when they thought she was asleep. And she didn’t have to ask what Dylan told her father, because she was sure it was very similar to what he’d told her.

  “So what are we celebrating?” she asked.

  He looked over at her and grinned. “You always did have trouble waiting for surprises.”

  “Which means you’re not going to tell me.”

  “How was work?”

  Her mind drifted to the Somalia offer, but she didn’t feel ready to bring it up. She needed to have a better handle on what she wanted to do, or Dylan’s opinion and desires could easily sway her decision. And this decision had to be about her. For her.

  “Slow. Work was mostly a steady stream of patients with abdomen and pelvic pain. Which is, of course, always preferable to, say, domestic abuse or gunshot wounds, but it makes the time go by slower. How’s the house?”

  “I destroyed the kitchen yesterday. Floated and taped the new drywall on the ceiling. The plumbers came today, so the new bathroom and changes in the kitchen have been plumbed. Electrician comes tomorrow. Once that’s done, we move on to drywall, cabinets, countertops, flooring. It’s really coming along.”

  He turned onto the street where the restaurant was located and slowed, looking for a parking space. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when the house is finished?”

  He parked, shut down the engine, and looked at her. “I have.”

  Before she could ask what that was, he got out of the car and rounded the hood to the passenger’s side. He opened the door and offered his hand. When she stood, he closed the door behind her and wrapped her in his arms. “Let’s come back to this after dinner.”

  Then he kissed her, a slow, passionate kiss infused with love. He made her just dizzy enough to let him lead her into the restaurant without asking any more questions.