by Dianne Drake
“Everything’s normal. Perfect.”
She managed a wispy smile. “Just like I told you.”
“You’re right about that. You did tell me. But what you didn’t tell me was why you fainted, and I think you know.”
She glanced away from him, looked at the vegetable salad he’d brought for fear he could read the answer in her eyes. “You brought pastries, too?” she asked, pulling a cinnamon roll from the bag, breaking off a piece and immediately sticking it in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to answer him.
“OK, I won’t ask again. But if you faint again, Gabrielle, I won’t be able to let you come back to work. In fact, I’ll admit you to the hospital for the rest of your pregnancy. I don’t like the way you’re evading my question, but I’ll respect your right to do it.”
“I won’t faint again,” she said, once her mouth was empty.
“I hope not.” He watched her go after another bite of cinnamon roll. “So, at least answer this question for me. Didn’t anybody ever tell you that dessert comes after the meal?”
She licked the gooey icing off her fingers, then finally met him eye to eye. “My dad always told me to go after what I wanted and not to let anything get in my way, and right now I want the cinnamon roll.” She picked up another cinnamon roll and handed it to him. “Care to join me and indulge yourself in the best part of the meal first?” Putting her already half-eaten roll on a plate, she went to the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk. One for her and, on impulse, one for Neil who, she noticed, looked awfully tempted to take a bite of his roll. Desire over tradition. Sometimes that was a nice dilemma to be caught in.
“And you don’t think I might really want the salad first?”
She gave her head a vigorous shake no as she handed him his milk. “What I think is that you’re in a rut. You think you’re supposed to eat the salad first, and the cinnamon roll comes last because that’s the traditional order of things, but that’s only prior indoctrination. An old habit. If you really like the salad better than the cinnamon roll, then by all means, eat that first. But if you like the roll better, why fill up on the food that’s not your preference and risk not having room left over for the food that is?”
It made sense to her, and she remembered the many meals when her father had let her start with the chocolate cake or the apple pie before she got to the meat and potatoes because of what she’d just said to Neil. Not every meal had been that way, of course. But her father always said that because life was so usual most of the time, why not be unusual when you had the chance? He’d always told her that it was healthy to be different, and she’d believed him. Still did.
Suddenly, her eyes brimmed once more with tears and she spun away before Neil could see them.
“I was right. You’re crying,” he said, setting down his glass of milk and stepping up behind her.
“You’re not supposed to notice.” Gabby sniffled. “I’m having a hormonal couple of hours. Nothing to worry about.”
“Would another massage help?”
A massage would be heaven. Wouldn’t do a thing for her hormones, and her muscles weren’t particularly stiff, which was why she couldn’t allow it. She wanted his hands on her too much and that was simply a stupid thing to do. Wanted comfort. Needed it badly. Even though with Neil it was only a nice gesture meant to make the pregnant doctor feel better, to her it was too intimate, too close to her problem.
“What would help would be the rest of my cinnamon roll.” She picked it up, and took a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter. “And for future reference I’ll pretty much eat anything sweet. And chocolate. Salad’s OK, but it doesn’t get any better than this.” She held up the cinnamon roll, studied it for a second, then took a bite. But she still had a lump in her throat, which made it hard to swallow.
Neil seated himself next to her at the counter and pulled a cinnamon roll from the sack. “Guess this make me officially less boring, doesn’t it?” he asked, then took his first bite.
“Some people would call it spontaneous.”
“Trust me, no one would ever call me spontaneous. That was…” He frowned, exhaled a sharp sigh, then continued. “That was my brother. His life was one spontaneous moment after another. People always called him the fun one. And I was…sensible.” He attempted a laugh, but it didn’t mask the true sentiment.
“Gavin Thierry?” she said, her voice oddly shaky. “The one on the plaque?” Even though she knew, she still had to utter the words and hear his response.
“That’s right. My half-brother, actually.” Cold, distant words.
There was so much resentment bottled up in the sensible one. She could hear it, even though he was trying to hide it. It was there, though, and she wondered what could have been so bad between the two. “Your brother did a very nice thing for the pediatrics ward, Neil. And I’m so sorry for your loss.” It was a nice thing Bryce should know when he was old enough.
Gabby’s words didn’t set well with Neil, though, because he dropped his cinnamon roll onto the counter, clearly not comfortable with the topic. “We hadn’t been close for a while,” he said, his voice flat. “For years.”
Not close for years? For Gabby, this only begged more questions. Which she wouldn’t ask, even though she desperately wanted to know more for her son. And for herself, since she was the one standing in the middle of the unhappy dynamic.
Lunch was pretty quiet after that. Some general chat about the hospital. Neil going back to his traditional way of eating—main food first, no spontaneity. Gabby filling up after two cinnamon rolls, no room left for salad. Throughout the whole muted ordeal, Gabby couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in Neil’s relationship with his brother that hadn’t been resolved even with Gavin’s death. She couldn’t imagine that it was old childhood resentment left over after so many years. But, like Neil, she ate in silence.
After she’d had all the food she could hold, Gabby put the leftovers in the fridge, then faced Neil across the kitchen counter. “I’m going back to work with you.” Staying cooped up here, alone, only made her think, and she didn’t want to. At least, not about the things she needed to.
“Fine,” he said, no argument.
She’d expected an argument. “That’s all you have to say about it?”
A small smile finally crept back to his face, but not as far as his eyes. They were still troubled, distant. Still reflecting on sad memories. “Because I’m not in the mood for an argument, and if I said no, you’d argue. But you know what’s best, know what you feel like doing, so I trust you in this. If you feel like working, work. Eric’s still not feeling well, and I’m sure he’d appreciate you taking back your afternoon patients so he won’t have to be quite so busy.”
A cold breeze cut through their conversation. She could feel it, and it had everything to do with the father of the baby she was carrying. So, for now, her real question was answered. No, she wouldn’t tell Neil. It was a short-term solution, but it worked for the time being.
It didn’t make her feel any better keeping it to herself, though, because Neil had a right to know. But the question was, would he want to know?
“Time will tell,” she whispered to Bryce a few moments later, as Neil waited at the front door while she stood at the hall closet, slipping into her jacket. Yes, time would definitely tell.
The rest of the afternoon passed into oblivion, as did the evening, as did the week. She worked, she avoided Neil as best she could. And she bought baby clothes. Stacks and stacks of them. Plus she made a point of eating at a different restaurant every day…places where she didn’t expect to find Neil. But he was always on her mind, always a guilt that weighed heavily.
And even after seven days of knowing what she knew, she still didn’t know how to deal with it. “Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual,” she told Bryce one night as she was settling into bed. “And your mother just isn’t very good at figuring out how all the pieces fit.”
She wasn’t expecting a
n answer, but she got one anyway, in the form of a phone call from Neil.
“Are we having problems?” he asked.
“No, why?”
“You seem to be avoiding me.”
“Not avoiding you. I’ve been busy. And resting when I’m not.” True. But also a great big avoidance.
“And you’re feeling good?”
“No complaints.” The conversation was so stilted, so cold she could almost see the frost on the phone.
“Want to have dinner Friday night? I’m on back-up call, but I don’t have to be at the hospital. And I have something interesting I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Neil, I just…just don’t know.” She settled back into her pillows and sighed heavily. “I just don’t get involved in…in personal situations. And right now I’m more in the mood to just be alone.” That was true.
“So we do have a problem.”
“It’s not a problem. It’s just that…” Why not just tell him? Accept the invitation, and get it over with. That way, she’d know if she had a future here, or if she didn’t. “Look, let’s have dinner together, OK? I’d like that.”
Their goodbye was brief, cordial. And Gabby didn’t fall asleep for a good two hours after it. She’d made the commitment to herself, made the promise to Neil, and now the real worry was setting in, because she did want to raise Bryce here, did want Neil to be part of his life. A week and a few days here and she loved White Elk, felt at home, felt like she could spend the rest of her life here. But all that was up to Neil, and he didn’t even know it yet. And it scared her that when she was finally making plans, they could all blow away. Yet it scared her even more that they wouldn’t.
“Your mother’s not thinking too clearly right now,” she said to Bryce, as her eyelids began to flutter shut. “But I promise you, that’s only a temporary situation.”
All the same, she hoped White Elk was not.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE next few days passed in a blur of patients and shopping, so that before she knew it the evening of her date with Neil had arrived. Truth was, as hesitant as she’d been to accept his invitation, she’d been looking forward to the evening ever since. Dreading it, of course. But hopeful. “They’re going to be OK without us?” she asked Neil, trying to fasten the seat belt so it wouldn’t be so tight. It was like her belly had doubled in size this past week. Maybe not so much in outward appearance as in the actual way it felt to her. Naturally, Bryce had picked this evening to be more rambunctious than ever, kicking, turning somersaults, tap dancing.
Neil chuckled. “The hospital will do fine without us for a few hours.” He jiggled his cell phone at her. “And there’s this. They have one too, and they know how to use it.”
“OK, so maybe I worry too much. But if there were an emergency…”
“Calm down. There won’t be.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’ve been on call five nights straight. All I can say is, I’ve been looking forward to this, so there’d better not be.”
“Like we can control that part of our lives,” she said on a wistful sigh as they turned onto the road leading out of the town, and headed for the winding road that would take them to the top of the older Sister.
Neil glanced over at Gabby, not sure if she was napping or simply relaxing. She’d been quiet for several minutes now, and he missed the sound of her voice. He’d caught himself thinking of this as a date off and on, then reminded himself this evening had a purpose. He was going to ask her to stay. He and Eric had crunched numbers, and decided they could afford her part-time for a while. Full-time when she was ready. He wasn’t sure this was what she wanted, but he hoped it was because so many of the women were happy with her. Of course, he’d never really heard her talk about her future plans with any certainty, so he had no idea what she intended for herself. But maybe, over a nice dinner, pleasant music and a wonderful view of everything she could have here in White Elk, it wouldn’t be so easy for her to turn him down.
On a personal note, he hoped she would stay, too. But that wasn’t going to come into play, because she avoided the personal almost as much as he did. “We’re winding through an area now where a lot of the celebrities have built their mountain homes,” he finally said, more because he simply wanted her companionship than his pressing need to tell her which movie star lived where during ski season.
“I’ll bet it would be nice, if I could see it,” she murmured, sounding awfully contented.
“Did I wake you?”
“Did you want to?”
“Maybe.”
She laughed. “Well, you didn’t. I was just…relaxing. Enjoying the night sky. In Chicago, you don’t get many stars like you do out here—the kind in the sky, not movie stars. I was remembering the song my mother used to sing to me…‘Twinkle, twinkle little star…’”
“‘Like a diamond in the sky.’”
“Funny, but I don’t think about her too often. It’s always my dad that comes to mind.”
“Did he sing to you?”
Gabby laughed. “Heavens, no. He had a voice like a fog-horn. Kind, gentle hands when he held a baby, though. That’s one of the things I miss the most, seeing my dad with a newborn in his hands.” She straightened up in the car seat, drew in a deep breath. “Did your mother sing to you?”
“She didn’t have time, really. She and my dad divorced when I was still a toddler, and after she married my stepfather, Gavin’s father, it seems like her time was consumed with all sorts of things. But never singing.”
“Was she happy?”
“I think so. She was a nurse at the hospital, she raised two sons, took care of her husband… I think she had a good life with him.”
“Did you?”
“Charles Thierry was good to me. Good man, excellent doctor.”
“Let me guess…pediatrician?”
“The apples didn’t fall far from the tree, did they? He was a very good pediatrician.”
“And?”
“And he died when I was in med school, before Gavin had a chance to go to med school. My mom remarried a few years later, and she’s living happily on a beach in Nicaragua.”
“But you and Gavin got along back then?”
“Like typical brothers. You know, ups and downs. Until…well, let’s just say that the adult years have been all downs and let it go at that. I don’t want talk of my brother spoiling the evening. Especially when we have such a nice night ahead us.”
Whatever had happened between them was bad. Hurtful. It made her nervous, made her feel guilty.
“Well, then, let’s talk about pleasant things. As I recall, you said you had something you wanted to discuss with me? It’s pleasant, isn’t it?”
“I think it is, but first I want to ply you with food, chocolate, more food, more chocolate, to maximize that pleasant potential.”
A gentle smile finally crept back to his face, causing her to relax. Right now, this was for the best. Soon, though, she would have to tell him everything,
“I like the part about more food, more chocolate. Bribes are good, but are you sure you can afford me, Neil?”
He chuckled. “I know the executive chef. I believe she’ll let me make installment payments, if I have to.” Yet, the real question was, could he afford her in the ways that counted? Because if she stayed, he was going to have to figure out just how he was going to do this. And it had nothing at all to do with the finances of the matter, and everything to do with the feelings.
“Have you ever thought about what you’d be if you quit being a doctor?” she asked him.
“Why? Are you thinking about quitting?”
Not quitting so much as making a big change, and finding a way to accommodate her new life in the meanwhile. “My life is changing. Who knows what I’ll be doing a year from now, other than raising my son? I mean, as much as I love medicine, I suppose that could always be a possibility. Maybe I’ll want to be a full-time mom, or maybe I’ll settle in a plac
e where my medical skills aren’t needed.”
“You’re too dedicated to quit. You’d go crazy inside a month. No, make that a week. Isn’t that why you’re working now, just a few weeks away from your due date? Because you need to be a doctor, because it’s part of you?”
“It is part of me. But what if I found a place where I really wanted to raise Bryce, but there was no need for my services there? Yet I was so happy being there, raising my son there, that I couldn’t leave? Or what if you found a place to live that didn’t need a family practitioner, but you wanted to stay there so badly it didn’t matter? Maybe it’s the kind of place where we want to define ourselves by something other than our work.”
“In my case, is there a woman involved?” he asked, half teasing.
“You mean you’d give it up for a woman?”
Neil made a sound that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a choke. “Hell, no, I wouldn’t give it up for a woman. I’d hope that a woman who’s that important to me would understand why I couldn’t give it up. I came close once, and it almost cost me everything. So once was enough.”
“But she wasn’t the right woman, was she? I mean, you two did get…” Gabby paused, deciding not to wander down that path. It was Neil’s business, and if he wanted to tell her, fine. If he didn’t, fine, too. “OK, so let me start this conversation over. What if the place where you wanted to spend the rest of your life couldn’t support you as a doctor? No woman involved. Which would you choose? Your heart, or your profession?”
“Is that what you’re struggling with, Gabrielle?”
