Turn Back Time

by Radclyffe

  “He did?” Pearce’s left eyebrow twitched in surprise. “Why?”

  “I was pretty surprised myself, but when the surgery was over, he said I should stay with you. I told him I intended to, although I was on call and I had some work to do.” Wynter remembered the odd look that had crossed Ambrose Rifkin’s face for a moment. He’d glanced at Pearce, still heavily sedated, and then back at Wynter. His eyes had been dark, impenetrable, but when he spoke, his voice was soft, almost gentle. She’d never heard him sound that way before.

  “You should be here when she wakes up. I’ll see that Dr. Dzubrow takes care of the vascular service until further notice.”

  Then he’d walked away.

  “I’ll try to switch the next couple of days so I can stay home with you,” Wynter added.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Wynter studied Pearce gravely. “Yes, I do.”

  “If you could just pick up some groceries. I don’t have anything in the apartment—”

  “Oh, so that’s how you think this will work.” Wynter laughed and shook her head. “Do you really think I’m going to let you go home to your apartment alone? You’re coming to my place.”

  “Your place?”

  “You’re going to be sitting around doing nothing for the next week until the swelling goes down. If you’re at my house, Mina will be nearby in case there’s anything you need.”

  “She’s got enough to handle,” Pearce protested.

  “She’s not going to be dressing you, darling. And I suspect that you can feed yourself.” Wynter gave Pearce’s hand another shake. “There’s no point in arguing, because you’re not going to win.”

  “Look, I—”

  “Please,” Wynter said softly. “I can’t go to work and worry about you. I need to know that you’re all right.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Pearce said immediately. “But I want to help with Ronnie or something. I’m not going to sit around and be a patient.”

  “If that’s what you want, but not until some of the swelling has gone down.” She laughed and brushed her fingers over Pearce’s cheek. “And you have no idea what you just let yourself in for.”

  “I know,” Pearce muttered.

  Wynter laughed and was about to lean down and kiss Pearce again when she saw Ambrose on his way toward them. She straightened, but continued to hold Pearce’s hand. He walked to the opposite side of the stretcher, his eyes going first to the monitors above the bed before flickering down to Pearce.

  “Did Dr. Thompson fill you in on the results of the surgery?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve asked Larry Elliott to examine your eyes just as soon as the edema has subsided and you can open your lids. I don’t expect you’ll have any problems with diplopia, but we want to be sure.”

  “I couldn’t see well enough to tell if I had double vision earlier,” Pearce said quietly.

  “Patricia did an excellent job of repairing the orbit. I don’t think you’ll have any long-term difficulties.”

  “Thanks for assisting.” Pearce swallowed. Her chest hurt even more, but it wasn’t her ribs. “I felt…better, knowing you were there.”

  Ambrose’s expression remained remote, but his stiff posture relaxed slightly as he fleetingly brushed his fingers over Pearce’s shoulder. “You always have underestimated your importance to me.” He glanced at Wynter, then back at Pearce. “I suspect that was my fault.”

  “I’m not going back to Harrisburg, Dad,” Pearce said. She glanced at Wynter. “I’ve got too much to stay for here.”

  “There’s time for that kind of thing in the future, when you’ve got your career firmly on track,” Ambrose said.

  “No.” Pearce smiled, her gaze locked with Wynter’s. “We’ve already lost enough time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Wynter let herself in the front door and stood in her living room, listening. At two in the afternoon, the house was very still, but she knew from having stopped at Mina’s just a few moments before that Pearce and Ronnie were home. Home. Where the two most important people in her life waited. After just a week with Pearce there twenty-four hours a day while she recuperated, Wynter had begun to think of her as belonging. She draped her parka over the back of the sofa, kicked off her boots, and quietly climbed the stairs. Her bedroom door was open. She tiptoed over and peeked inside.

  Pearce, in gray gym shorts and a shapeless T-shirt with a faded blue Penn logo, was propped upright at the head of the bed on three pillows, her eyes closed. Ronnie was curled up in her lap, also asleep; her coloring book, crayons, and an assortment of cars and trucks lay scattered across the beige chenille bedspread. Pearce had insisted that Ronnie not see her until the worst of the discoloration and edema had subsided, for fear of frightening her. Wynter had not been as concerned, but Pearce was unswayable. As she’d improved, Pearce had gradually taken over as much of Ronnie’s care as possible to give Mina a break.

  Moving carefully, Wynter stripped and slipped into an extra-large white cotton T-shirt that she sometimes slept in when alone. She’d been wearing it to bed that week, because the feel of Pearce naked against her was almost too exciting for her to bear. And Pearce was still recovering. Wynter took advantage of the opportunity to study Pearce as she approached the bed. Pearce looked better, but she was still not quite completely healed. The swelling in the right side of her face had diminished to the point that she could open her eye a few millimeters. Patricia had removed the sutures from Pearce’s eyelids the day before, and Larry Elliott had examined her immediately after and pronounced her vision 100 percent normal. Although Pearce had said little after her follow-up exams, Wynter sensed her relief. Hopefully she would be able to sleep through the night soon, something she had not done since her injury. Her energy level was not what it had been, and Wynter suspected it would be another week before she was functioning normally. Sleep was just what she needed.

  When Wynter lifted Ronnie from Pearce’s lap, Pearce’s eyes opened. “Shh,” Wynter mouthed. Pearce nodded and closed her eyes again.

  A few minutes later, Wynter crawled under the covers beside Pearce, wrapped an arm around her middle, and snuggled against her. “Mmm, I love nap time.”

  Pearce kissed Wynter’s forehead. “You’re home late. Tired?”

  “I was ready to leave right after sign-outs at ten, and then we got a STAT consult to see one of the cardiac patients who needed an emergency CABG and a carotid endarterectomy. By the time that was squared away, it was almost two.”

  “Were you up all night?”

  “Most of it.”

  Pearce tightened her hold and eased Wynter partially on top of her. She rubbed her neck and back. “You’ve got the rest of the weekend off. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.”

  “How are you doing?” Wynter lazily slipped her hand beneath Pearce’s T-shirt to rub her stomach.

  “Okay. Good,” Pearce murmured, enjoying the soft caress. “I brought Ronnie back over here after breakfast and we played. Well, she colored and I watched cartoons.”

  “Has she been asleep long?”

  “Not too long.”

  “Good,” Wynter said contentedly. “She’ll go another couple of hours.”

  “You won’t, though.” Pearce nuzzled Wynter’s neck and circled her hand lower to the soft warm flesh left bare where the T-shirt pulled up in the back. She felt Wynter fit herself more closely to the curve of her body and shifted until her thigh nudged between Wynter’s legs. Wynter was hot. Wet. Pearce smiled. “Miss me?”

  Wynter scratched a nail up the center of Pearce’s stomach and made her twitch. “All the time.”

  “It’s been a long week.”

  “I love having you here.”

  Pearce’s heart stuttered, then raced. “I love being here.”

  Wynter raised her head, her eyes dreamy. “Will you stay, then?”

  “For how long?” Pearce breathed.

  “Always.” Wynt
er kissed her gently. “Always.”

  “I don’t have very much practice at…this.” Pearce waved at the room uncertainly.

  “No one ever really does, until you do it.” Wynter kissed Pearce’s throat. “You’re doing just fine. You’re great with Ronnie. And I adore you.”

  “I’m crazy about both of you.”

  “That’s a good start, then.”

  “Wynter,” Pearce said so seriously that Wynter raised her head in question. “We both have to finish our residencies. You want to do a fellowship. It’s going to be tricky.”

  “I know. Scared?”

  Pearce grinned. “Hell no. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things this week.” As she spoke, she trailed her fingers up and down Wynter’s spine. “I’m not going to do a fellowship. I’m going to look for a job as soon as I get back on my feet. It’s never too early to start, and I know a bunch of guys at the other medical schools in the city. I’m pretty sure I can scare up a staff position.”

  “If you come in at the bottom like that, you’ll put yourself out of the running for a chairmanship,” Wynter said quietly. “A fellowship somewhere first would be better.”

  “I don’t want it. Besides”—Pearce rested her uninjured cheek against the top of Wynter’s head—“we might have to move depending on where you get a fellowship. I’ll need to be flexible.”

  “Sweetheart, that’s not what you’ve planned all these years.”

  “No, it’s not. I never planned anything. My father did all the planning.” Pearce toyed with a lock of Wynter’s hair, softly twining it around her finger. “This is what I want to do.”

  “He’s not going to like it much.”

  Pearce shrugged. “He’ll either get used to it or he won’t. Either way, he can’t stop me.”

  Wynter pushed Pearce’s T-shirt high enough to expose her breasts and kissed her just above her heart. Then she rested her cheek between Pearce’s breasts, cradling one in her palm. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” Pearce sighed, shifting restlessly as Wynter’s warm breath teased her nipple. “Missed you.”

  “Mmm, I can tell.” Wynter drew her leg up over Pearce’s thighs and straddled her. “Me too.”

  Murmuring appreciatively, Pearce stroked her fingers over Wynter’s hips and between her legs, capturing her heat in the palm of her hand. “Let’s see if I can put you to sleep.”

  Wynter rocked along Pearce’s fingers, anticipating the pleasure as she tightened inside. “I won’t take much.”

  “A little now, a little la—”

  Wynter’s cell phone rang, and they both froze.

  “Fuck,” Pearce muttered.

  “Oh yes, I so agree.” With a groan, Wynter rolled away, ignoring the insistent throbbing between her thighs. “Hello?”

  “Hi, honey,” Mina said. “Whatcha doing?”

  “We were…I was just…uh…getting ready to take a nap.”

  “Well, Chloe will be here in five minutes to watch the kids. So, if you can do whatever you were doing in five minutes, you go right ahead. But that’s all the time you’ve got.”

  “Mina, what are you talking about?” Wynter watched Pearce’s eyes smolder, and her toes curled at the thought of what Pearce’s talented fingers could do to her. Soon. Please, God, soon.

  “My contractions are five minutes apart, so I thought it was time that we take a little trip.”

  Wynter sat bolt upright. “What? Now?”

  “Can’t be too soon for me,” Mina said with a laugh.

  “Well, don’t let it be too soon.” Wynter threw back the covers. “I’ll be right there. Where’s Ken?”

  “He’s working today. We can call him when we have an ETA on the new arrival.”

  “Okay. Don’t do anything.” Wynter closed her phone and jumped to her feet. “Baby. Baby’s coming,” she announced, as she began rifling through a pile of fresh laundry for clothes. She glanced over as Pearce sat up. “We’ll take Ronnie next door. Chloe’s coming. Can you get her?”

  “Sure.”

  “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t carry her.”

  “Babe, I’ve been carrying her for two days.” Pearce kissed Wynter, who stopped her frantic search long enough to appreciate the heat of Pearce’s mouth. “I’ll finish with you later.”

  Wynter reached around and squeezed Pearce’s butt. “You bet your ass you will.”

  Laughing, Pearce started toward the hall and Ronnie’s room.

  *

  Four hours later, Wynter and Pearce tapped lightly on the door and entered Mina’s room on the maternity ward. Ken sat by the side of the bed, one hand resting on the bundle that Mina cradled between her breasts. He grinned as they approached the bed.

  “Congratulations,” Pearce said. “He’s beautiful.”

  Ken and Mina beamed.

  “Well, that did go well,” Wynter said, bending down to kiss Mina’s cheek.

  “Easy for you to say,” Mina replied. “I was the one doing all the work.” She glanced at Ken. “Of course, you were doing a lot of the breathing.”

  He grimaced. “Much more and I was afraid I’d hyperventilate and fall over.”

  “Next time, you should pay more attention in birthing class,” Mina advised. “You doctors always think you know everything.”

  “Next time?” Ken moaned softly. “I need to recover from this time first.”

  Wynter gave Ken’s shoulder a friendly shove. “I’ve heard you say you wanted four or five.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.” He relaxed back in his chair. “And I heard Ronnie tell Winston just this morning that she was going to get a new brother or sister soon too.”

  “Uh-oh,” Mina said as Wynter blushed and Pearce stared at a spot on the wall.

  “Well,” Wynter said in a rush, “we should go. Just wanted to say congratulations again.” She peeked under the cover of the soft blue receiving blanket and caressed the baby’s downy black hair. “He really is beautiful.” She kissed Mina’s cheek again and smiled at Ken. “Don’t worry. We’ll hold down the fort at home.”

  Both Mina and Ken waved goodbye. Wynter and Pearce were silent as they walked the length of the maternity floor to the elevators at the far end. Pearce pushed the down button and leaned against the wall.

  “Did Ronnie get that idea from you? About more children?”

  “That’s all her idea.” Wynter reached for Pearce’s hand and clasped it tightly. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Things weren’t very good between Dave and me after Ronnie was born. Dave always said he wanted—”

  “Forget about him—what about just for you? Is that what you would like?”

  “Pearce, honey—I have Ronnie and—”

  The elevator doors opened, but Pearce made no move to get in. She regarded Wynter intently. “Do you think we can’t have kids?”

  “No, I don’t think that,” Wynter said carefully. “I just never got the sense it was in your game plan.”

  “Neither were you.” Pearce traced a finger along the edge of Wynter’s jaw. “I’m not volunteering personally, but seeing as how you’ve already had some practice at it…”

  Wynter caught Pearce’s hand and curled her fingers around it, drawing their joined hands close to her heart. She took a step forward until their bodies were very nearly touching. “Would you like it, if we had one together?”

  “One or two more would be good.”

  Wynter’s expression registered shocked delight. “One. Or. Two.”

  Pearce grinned. “Ronnie said a brother or a sister. We could try for both.”

  “You do realize how crazy it will be, with both of us practicing surgeons, and kids to raise?” Wynter took one quick look over her shoulder, and seeing that the hall was empty, kissed Pearce quickly. “I love you.”

  “I think we can handle it,” Pearce murmured. She kissed Wynter back. “Besides, you know what they say in surgery—”

  Eyes laughing, hearts soaring, they said together, “No guts, no glory.”<
br />
  “Let’s go home, darling,” Wynter said, “and finish what we started this afternoon. Then we’ll talk about the future.”

  “Now that sounds like a plan.” Pearce wrapped her arm around Wynter’s shoulders. “After all, we’ve got lots of time.”

  About the Author

  Radclyffe is a retired surgeon and full-time award-winning author-publisher with over thirty lesbian and anthologies in print. Seven of her works have been Lambda Literary finalists, including the Lambda Literary winners Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments edited with Stacia Seaman; In Deep Waters 2; Distant Shores, Silent Thunder. She is the editor of Best Lesbian Romance 2009 and 2010 (Cleis Press), Erotic Interludes 2 through 5 and Romantic Interludes 1 and 2 with Stacia Seaman (BSB), and has selections in multiple anthologies including Best Lesbian Erotica 2006-2010; After Midnight; Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists; First-Timers; Ultimate Undies: Erotic Stories About Lingerie and Underwear; Hide and Seek; A is for Amour; H is for Hardcore; L is for Leather; Rubber Sex, Tasting Him, and Cowboy Erotica. She is the recipient of the 2003 and 2004 Alice B. Readers’ awards for her body of work and is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBTQ publishing companies.

  Her latest release is an all-Radclyffe erotica anthology, Radical Encounters (Feb 2009) and the romantic intrigue novel Justice for All (April 2009), and the romance Secrets in the Stone (July 2009). Her forthcoming works include The Midnight Hunt (writing as L.L. Raand, March 2010) and the first in the First Responder Series, Trauma Alert (July 2010).