Dr. Forget-Me-Not (Matchmaking Mamas)

by Marie Ferrarella

  He’d spent enough time waltzing around with this irritating woman, Mitch thought. He got down to the crux of the reason he’d come to the chapel. To back Melanie up any way he could.

  “Now, I understand that there is a problem about her taking custody of April once the little girl is released from the hospital—which won’t be for at least several days if not longer,” he emphasized. “She sustained a number of serious internal injuries. Frankly,” he interjected because he saw this as being of tantamount importance in this custody case that was erupting, “we thought we lost her. She stopped breathing at the scene of the accident. It was Ms. McAdams who refused to give up on her even when April’s heart stopped beating. She continued holding on to April, pleading with her to come back to us. I had almost managed to get Ms. McAdams to let go of her when April opened her eyes.”

  Donnelly’s skepticism mushroomed. “Ah, so perhaps I should add Miracle Worker to Ms. McAdams’s résumé,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Mitch’s expression never changed. Remaining stony, it was almost unnerving. Melanie could see Donnelly eyeing him nervously.

  “I think that most of us would agree that faith, no matter how clichéd it sounds, works in mysterious ways,” Mitch said. “I know it was an eye-opener for me. Now, I can give you a written recommendation for Ms. McAdams in order to make this custody thing happen. I can also get you a statement, if necessary, from the chief administrator of this hospital.” When Donnelly made no response, he went on to say, “I also know several heads of—”

  Donnelly held up a hand as if in mute surrender. “Not necessary,” the social worker told him. “Your statement is more than sufficient, Doctor.” She glanced at Melanie, obvious less than happy about the fact that she had to concede the battle to her. As a parting shot, Donnelly said, “It might help matters if Ms. McAdams was married, but—”

  “That is in the offing, as well,” Mitch told her in a quiet, serious voice, cutting her off.

  It took considerable concentrated effort on Melanie’s part to keep her jaw from dropping. She had to remind herself that Mitch was saying a great many things right now just to make the woman back off and go away and for that she would be eternally grateful.

  Jennifer Donnelly was a bulldog when she needed to be, but she also knew when she was outgunned and defeated. And she was now.

  “I’ll get to the paperwork right away.” Donnelly put her hand out to Melanie. It wasn’t a heartfelt gesture, but it was as genuine as she could manage. “Congratulations, Ms. McAdams. A lot of paperwork has to be finalized but it looks like you have yourself a little girl.” The smile that followed the statement could be called nothing short of spasmodic.

  “Thank you,” Melanie answered with relief and enthusiasm. “I’ll take excellent care of her. This is for her best interests.”

  Donnelly couldn’t resist one final sniff. “So I am told,” she said, looking directly at Mitch. “I’ll be back with the papers in the morning.”

  “I’ll be here,” Melanie assured her. The moment the woman had left the chapel, she turned to Mitch. “Do you actually know all those people you just offered to get letters from?”

  There was no change in his expression. “I do.”

  Okay, maybe he did, but that still didn’t touch the important issue. “But they wouldn’t go as far as give me a statement of recommendation—”

  “They would,” he told her without fanfare. “They don’t like bureaucracy any better than I do. And if their letters failed to do the trick, I could always sic my mother on that woman. That would definitely do it. My mother is one gutsy little lady.” A smile curved the corners of his mouth as he looked at Melanie. “Kind of like someone else I know,” he told her.

  “Thank you,” Melanie said, suddenly choking up. Tears were coming at an unstoppable rate, sliding down her cheeks and threatening to go on indefinitely.

  Sitting back down in the pew, Mitch took her into his arms and held her until she could regain control of herself.

  “No,” he told her quietly when her tears finally subsided, “Thank you. I meant what I said. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been volunteering at the shelter, which means I wouldn’t have been there in time to save April—and even then, if not for you, April would have been lost. You opened my eyes to a great many things,” he told her.

  Melanie wiped her eyes and did what she could to pull herself together. She glanced in the direction that the social worker had taken.

  “She’ll be back, you know,” she said. “In the morning, like she said.”

  “I know,” he told her. “I never doubted it for a moment. Her kind always is. But I’ll be here to back you up, just like I said. In writing, in spirit, in any way you need. If she wants letters of recommendation, she’ll get them.” And then he had a question for her. “You know for a fact that you have that job waiting for you at your old school?”

  Melanie nodded. “Absolutely. The principal still calls me on occasion to check in and see how I’m doing. I spoke to her about a week and a half ago, told her I was slowly getting there.”

  Taking it in, Mitch nodded. “Good, although not entirely necessary,” he went on to tell her. When she looked at him quizzically, he explained, “The factor here as far as Social Services is concerned is money—”

  Melanie thought she knew what he was about to say. “No,” she told him firmly.

  His brow furrowed. “No?”

  Melanie backtracked, knowing she’d jumped the gun but fairly confident she hadn’t guessed wrong. “If you’re about to tell me you’ll lend me whatever money you think they want in my bank account, the answer’s no. I won’t take any money from you.”

  Mitch’s expression was unreadable as he murmured, “I see.”

  “You’ve done too much for me already,” Melanie insisted. “You saved April—twice,” she emphasized. “Once right after the accident and just now.” As far as she was concerned, that was twice he’d brought the little girl back to her. “I can never repay you for either time, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to really try.” She went on to explain her reasoning. “Borrowing money from you would only make the debt that much more huge,” she told him.

  “Are you finished?” Mitch asked mildly when she finally paused for breath and stopped talking for a moment.

  Melanie inclined her head. “Yes.”

  He looked into her eyes, as if expecting to find his answer there. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” Impatience rimmed itself around the single word.

  “Okay, because I wasn’t going to offer to lend you money—” Mitch started to tell her. He didn’t get any further.

  “I won’t take any from you, either,” she said with feeling, guessing that he was going to just make it a matter of semantics.

  He gave her what she thought was a reproving look, the kind a teacher would give a particularly trying student after being tested yet again. “I thought you said you were finished.”

  “Okay. Yes, now I’m finished,” she told him. Melanie saw him looking at her as if he was waiting for her to add a PS to her statement. “Totally,” she added by way of a closing. Since he was still waiting for a better sign, she crossed her heart to seal the deal.

  “Satisfied?” she asked.

  His nod was her answer. “All right. I wasn’t going to offer to lend—or give—you money,” Mitch told her, his tone quiet, subdued. “What I was going to do was ask you to marry me.”

  Melanie was utterly and completely stunned, not to mention speechless.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Not right now,” Mitch quickly qualified when Melanie said nothing. He didn’t want her to think that he was in any way rushing her. “I mean, I’m asking you now, but I’m not asking you to marry me now.”

  He saw confusion slipping over her features. He found himself really wishing he had better communication skills.

  “Not coming out very well, I know, but then, I never exactly pictured my
self being in this position, either. Asking someone to marry me,” he specified. “I was fine just the way I was. Or, at least I thought I was fine just the way I was,” Mitch added. “What I’m asking you to do is think about marrying me. Doesn’t have to be today, next week or even next month. I just want you to think about the idea.

  “I won’t lie to you, I’ve been trying to talk myself out of this ever since I first experienced this strange, overwhelming feeling. I thought it was my imagination, or just the result of being on overload, a by-product of the marathon stressful situation I found myself under—double shifts, volunteer work,” he went on to explain. “But the more I tried to tell myself this, this excuse, the more I realized that I was just rationalizing, and doing a damn bad job of it.”

  He smiled at her, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky without even trying. “I realized that I was actually feeling what some people spend their whole lives chasing after and never feeling. I love you,” he told her in case there was some confusion about what he meant. “And now, I need to know how you feel.” He summoned his courage and put it all on the line. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was scared, scared he wouldn’t hear what he desperately needed to hear. “I need to know if you love me.”

  Melanie pressed her lips together, struggling to keep her tears back. Crying would only add to the stress here. “I don’t want to love you.”

  Mitch nodded, but that wasn’t what he had asked. “I get that.” He understood, or thought he did, the depth of her fear, the sheer terror of being afraid of having her heart ripped out again because someone she loved was taken from her. Which made her love all the more precious if she could just risk it. Risk it for him. “But do you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted quietly, looking down at the floor. She tried to turn away, but he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and forced Melanie to look up at him.

  He looked into her eyes, confident that he would see the truth no matter what she actually tried to say, or tell him.

  “You love me.” It was half a question, half a hopeful statement.

  She closed her eyes and sighed, as if saying the words out loud were hurtful to her, as well as setting her up for an entire ocean of pain down the line.

  “Yes.”

  “Open your eyes and look at me, Melanie. Please,” he added when she was slow to comply. Melanie opened her eyes. They looked right into his. “Now say it.”

  “Yes.”

  He needed to hear the entire sentence. Desperate to be convinced, he needed it all. “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I love you.” The words were accompanied by fresh tears. The admission was actually painful. “Satisfied?”

  “It’s not a matter of being satisfied, Melanie. It’s a matter of needing to know if I’m forcing you into something or if you really mean it on your own.” What he saw in her eyes at that moment gave him his answer. “You do.”

  “Yes,” she told him in a choked whisper, “and I’m scared to death.”

  Oh damn, her tears were going to be his undoing. “I don’t want you to cry—”

  Melanie struggled to smile through the tears. “Sorry, comes with the territory, can’t have one without the other.”

  “Duly noted,” he told her, taking her back into his arms. Then, very gently, he raised her chin until she was looking up at him and then he kissed her. Softly, as if her lips were rose petals and if he pressed too hard, they were liable to be crushed and drift down to the floor.

  “I can’t make you promises that are beyond my power to keep,” Mitch told her honestly. “I can’t tell you that I’m going to live forever, although I certainly am going to try,” he added with a fond smile. “What I can promise is that for as long as I do live, I will love you and do everything in my power for you to never even have one moment’s regret for loving me.”

  That much was in his power to promise her.

  “Can’t ask for more than that,” she replied in a voice so low that it was almost a whisper.

  And then, taking another breath, she knew there was something that they hadn’t really talked about yet. Not as far as it related to the situation he had just painted for the two of them.

  “You do realize that I come as a set,” Melanie said, broaching the subject carefully.

  Having said it out loud, she knew and readily accepted the fact that she loved this man who had come so unexpectedly into her life. But she didn’t have just herself to think of anymore.

  Mitch tilted his head a little, as if trying to absorb what she had just alluded to.

  “I am going to adopt April,” she told him.

  Why did she feel she had to tell him this, he wondered. “I know. I just made it easier for you, remember?”

  “That’s not going to change your mind?” she asked. “Taking on a wife and a child?” she stressed to make sure he got the full impact of his proposal. “That’s a ready-made family and there’re going to be a lot of adjustments needing to be made—on everyone’s part.”

  “I’m aware of that,” then added tongue-in-cheek although he kept a straight face, “I took psychology as part of my doctor training.”

  “That’s a pretty brave move for a man who is ‘just fine’ being alone.”

  He knew he should have put that part better, Mitch thought, but it was too late to go back and begin again. “Let’s just say I was in a cave all this time and now that I’ve ‘stepped out into the light,’ I want it all—the light, the warmth, the whole nine yards. Make that twelve yards.”

  “Twelve?” She didn’t understand the reference.

  He grinned and she found him appealingly boyish-looking when he did that. “I was always an overachiever,” Mitch told her.

  She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. It took everything Melanie had not to throw her arms around his neck.

  “We need to run this by April,” she told him. “I know she loves you, but I want her to be prepared for all the changes that are going to be coming.”

  “Understood.” How could one woman be so warm and loving and yet so incredibly organized, he couldn’t help wondering in complete admiration. “I really doubt she’s going to have any objections, not the way she hung on to you,” he reminded her.

  “And your mother,” Melanie suddenly said, thinking out loud.

  Mitch looked at her, puzzled. What was she talking about?

  “April didn’t hang on to my mother,” he told her.

  Melanie shook her head. Her tongue was getting all tangled. “No, I mean you’re going to want to run this by your mother, aren’t you? I mean, she doesn’t even know I exist.” The more she talked, the more nervous she grew at the idea of facing this hurdle. “This is some bombshell you’re going to be dropping on her. A lot of mothers are kind of possessive when it comes to their sons,” she told him.

  She’d seen it time and again at the shelter. More than a few single mothers there were single mothers because of this exact problem. The men they were with had mothers who squelched the entire union between their son and the women they had created families with.

  Mitch laughed. “My mother is going to be even more on board with this than April. There’ll probably be fireworks.”

  “Fireworks?” Melanie repeated nervously.

  Was he saying that his mother was going to read him the riot act over this? Or blow up when he told her? The last thing she wanted was to come between Mitch and anyone, least of all his mother.

  “As in the kind they use on the Fourth of July to celebrate,” he elaborated. “Skywriting will probably be involved, as well.”

  Melanie could only stare at him. What was he talking about? “Skywriting?”

  “As in, My Prayers Have Been Answered. He’s Finally Getting Married!” Laughing, Mitch kissed her fleetingly, but nonetheless with feeling. “Trust me, she wasn’t the type to nag, but my mother has been waiting a very long time for this. All of her friends’ children have already made them grandmothers.” Now that it was behind him, he could
laugh as he recalled certain scenarios. “She got very creative with dropping hints indirectly.” His mother, he thought, was going to love Melanie. “Now I guess the only thing left is to decide when.”

  “When we’ll get married?” she asked, guessing at the rest of his sentence.

  That was getting ahead of the game. “No, when you’ll answer me.”

  Melanie’s eyebrows narrowed as she tried to understand what he was saying. “I’m not sure I follow—”

  “You haven’t given me your answer and I promised not to pressure you, so after we go see April to tell her that she’ll be coming home with us—with you for the time being,” Mitch corrected himself, “when she’s discharged from the hospital, then the next order of business will be—”

  “Yes,” she interjected almost breathlessly. It felt good to say the word, she couldn’t help thinking. Everything felt right about this.

  Stopping abruptly in his narrative, Mitch looked at her. “Excuse me?”

  Melanie smiled broadly and repeated. “Yes.”

  He was afraid to allow himself to believe this could be so easy. There was something he was overlooking. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes,” she told him, enunciating each word slowly, “I’ll marry you.”

  “I said I didn’t want to pressure you,” he reminded her. Even so, the sound of her acceptance caused his heart rate to accelerate.

  “I know. And I said yes. You’re not pressuring me, Mitch,” she assured him. “If anything, I’ve been pressuring me. Pressuring me not to set myself up so that I would ever possibly be in that awful position to feel that kind of pain again. But ultimately that means not feeling at all and you know, not feeling is just as bad as feeling too much.”

  He smiled at her. “Tell me about it,” he thought, remembering how he’d been such a short while ago.

  “Besides, I’m already in that position,” she admitted. “I love April to pieces and the thought of that little girl being forced to live somewhere else just because some autonomous department felt it was for ‘her own good,’ the thought of her being frightened and lonely and possibly who knows what, well, that was already ripping out my heart—so what’s a little more added fear in that mix?” she asked.