Cold As January

by Katie Graykowski

  “It’s not cool. The Healeys say that the ghost can be violent. Apparently, it slashed a couple of paintings and didn’t seem too happy about the Futro remodel.” March didn’t sound that concerned.

  “Wouldn’t you be upset if someone tried to Futro your house?” It was probably a good thing that ghosts couldn’t kill—or could they? Probably not, or it definitely would have killed Lynne over the Exuberant Pink. Hell, January wanted to kill Lynne over the Exuberant Pink, and she’d only had to look at it for a few seconds.

  Bru had promised that anything pink would be the first thing to go.

  January took a deep, contented breath. She’d just bought a house with a yard. This was step one in giving Baby J the best life possible—a life that wouldn’t include the baby’s father. She refused to think about Giles, because he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about her.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  * * *

  Giles tried to brush the wrinkles out of his white button-down, but years of the shirt being shoved into the back of his closet had taken their toll. He’d forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning, and this had been the only clean shirt he had.

  He glanced down at his trousers. He’d worn them a couple of days ago, and they weren’t too wrinkled. He grabbed a wadded-up white lab coat from the backseat of his Jaguar and tucked it under his arm. He grabbed his laptop bag and the apple he’d tossed in the cupholder on his way out the door this morning.

  He checked the clock on the dash. It was 8:48 a.m. He was an hour and forty-eight minutes late to the office. He’d never been late … ever. But his alarm clock hadn’t gone off, and he’d stayed up way too late trying to figure out how to see January and his baby.

  He slipped in the back door of his practice.

  “There you are.” Mona Richter arched an eyebrow. She was his call nurse and had worked with him since he’d opened his practice. “You’re almost an hour late for your first appointment. Your patients are losing their patience.” She thrust an iPad at him. “Room One and then Three.”

  “Um.” Mona had never spoken to him like this. She was always polite, but clearly today she’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

  She looked him up and down. “Did you sleep in your clothes? Are you sick?” She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Button your lab coat so no one can see that wrinkled shirt. Do you have one that doesn’t have a stain on it? Never mind, let’s just …” She grabbed the buttons of his lab coat and buttoned them for him. “Where’s your tie?”

  “Tie?” He looked down. He was missing his tie. “I must have forgotten it.”

  She took his laptop bag and pointed in the general direction of Room One. “You’re already behind. Go.”

  Right. He logged in to the iPad and pulled up the medical records software. Room One was the shoulder reconstruction he’d done two weeks ago, an injury from a boating accident. His medical assistant, Clarissa, had checked the patient in and done his vitals.

  Giles headed down the hall toward the exam room. Eight hours later, he was still an hour behind, hadn’t eaten lunch, and couldn’t get January off his mind. Where was she? Was she okay? Was the baby okay?

  He tapped on the information about the patient in Room Four a split second before he grabbed for the door handle. The patient was Susie Sweet. He hadn’t seen her on the schedule earlier. She must have just made the appointment. He’d been looking forward to seeing her because January always brought her to her appointments. His whole world brightened. With the hand that wasn’t holding the iPad, he tried to smooth the wrinkles out of his lab coat and pants, but it was a lost cause. He threw the door open and looked around. January wasn’t there, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t come to the appointment. Maybe she was in the bathroom or had dropped Susie off. He might get to see her.

  “Susie.” He set the iPad on the exam room’s counter and hugged her and then let her go. “How are you?”

  She looked more than a little confused. “Um, okay, I guess.” She looked him up and down. “Are you feeling okay? No offense, Dr. Nixon, but you don’t look good.”

  “I’m fine. How’s the foot.” It was all he could do not to interrogate her about January.

  “It’s better. I still have some pain when I run, but it’s not too bad.” She continued to examine him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” How did he casually bring up January? “Usually January comes with you.” He looked around like she would be hiding somewhere in the small room. “Is she in the restroom?”

  Did that sound too desperate? Did he really care?

  “She didn’t come with me today.” Susie’s look of concern changed to something else. She looked almost angry. “I think you know why.”

  He rolled his stool over to the exam table and sat in front of her. “She hates me, doesn’t she?”

  Susie leaned forward and patted his hand. “You really haven’t given her a reason not to hate you.”

  “I’ve tried to contact her, but she blocked my number. Her bouncers won’t let me into her bar, and I can’t get past her condo’s doorman.” He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care. He was going crazy worrying about January.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but when was the last time you … um, showered?” Susie wrinkled her nose. “You look like you’ve been sleeping in your clothes.”

  He looked down. He was always well dressed and groomed. How had he let this happen?

  “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” He had to know.

  “Yes, she’s actually doing really well. She just bought a house and she’s going to redo it. Her brothers are helping her. She’s good.” Susie’s smile disappeared and she gritted her teeth like she was angry with herself for divulging so much.

  “A house. What happened to her condo?” Why had she bought a house? She loved her condo.

  “I really shouldn’t have said anything.” Susie scooted off the exam table. “So am I good to go?”

  “Yes, I mean no, I need to examine your foot and check your range of movement, but wait—why did she buy a house?” He knew January was prone to rash decisions. Had she sold her condo because she needed money? “If she needs money, I’m happy—”

  “Just stop. That’s insulting. January bought a house so her child can grow up with a backyard. She doesn’t need your money or want you in her life.” Susie shook her head. “I knew I should have canceled this appointment.”

  “What if I need and want her in my life?” There, he’d finally said it out loud.

  Susie turned around and watched him, like she was searching his face for something. “You hung up on her.”

  “My phone died. I was out of the country.” It sounded lame and he knew it. “She was angry, so I didn’t try to contact her until I got back home. I thought if she cooled off, she would be more reasonable.”

  Whatever Susie had wanted from him, that hadn’t been it. Her eyes turned mean. “I was thinking about helping you, but I just changed my mind.”

  “It was stupid, not calling her. I know that now. I just need a chance to talk to her. That’s all I want. Just to talk to her. I need her in my life.” He was finally admitting that to himself.

  “You need? What about what she needs? Have you ever given that any thought?” Susie glared at him. “And what about Laney?”

  “She doesn’t want to see me either.” He’d been respecting her wishes by not contacting her.

  “For someone who’s supposed to be so smart, you really don’t know anything about women or relationships.” Susie pursed her lips like she was evaluating something. “Sometimes you need to fight for what you want, and the people you love need to see you fighting. Relationships aren’t always easy. It takes work from both parties. You can’t only take. You have to give as much or more than you take.” Susie was back to glaring at him. “You’re nothing but a taker.”

  “I wasn’t … I’m not …” His relationship with January fl
ashed in his mind like a movie playing on fast forward. She had made all of the plans. She had cooked all of the meals. She had made all of the sacrifices, working around his schedule. He had been nothing but a taker. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Judging by the dumbfounded look on your face, I get that you’re finally coming to the conclusion that you’re an ass. Congratulations on the personal growth.” Susie golf-clapped and then made as if to leave.

  “Wait! Look, I’m trying here. I’ve never had to—”

  “What? Work at a relationship? Think about someone other than yourself? Do more than snap your fingers to get what you want?” She crossed her arms.

  “I can see you’re upset—”

  “Are you going to suggest that I need a cooling-off period?”

  Something like that had crossed his mind. “Um … no. But it’s not a bad idea. The cooling-off strategy always works for me.” It was out before he could censor his words.

  “How’s it working out for you now? The only two people in your life who actually care about you want nothing to do with you. Your cooling-off-period idea is either working too well or has entirely backfired, because both of them never want to see you again. I guess their cooling-off period is permanent.” She wasn’t about to let him off easy.

  He nodded. She was right. His plan wasn’t working. “What do you suggest?”

  That seemed to take her off guard. She thought about it for a couple of beats. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know if there’s much you can do. January is moving on without you. She’s building a new life for her and her baby.”

  He had known it, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. She didn’t need him. No one needed him. But he needed her. He pulled air into his lungs in huge gulps. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Black dots marched across his vision.

  “Okay, you need to slow your breathing.” Susie pushed him down into the chair next to the exam table and grabbed his head and gently urged him to lean forward. She handed him a plastic bag.

  He took the bag, cupped it around his mouth, and breathed in. The stench of rotting baby diaper assaulted the inside of his nose, but he was able to slow his breathing. After a minute or two, the black dots subsided and he was able to breath normally. He sat back and absently noticed that she’d handed him the garbage bag from the trash can. That explained the stinky diaper.

  “Did you know there was a dirty diaper in the garbage bag before you handed it to me?” He was a planner, and he needed to know what kind of odds he was up against here. Not that it mattered anymore. January wouldn’t see him, so it didn’t matter how much her friends hated him.

  “Of course. I could have given you the unused bag under the used one, but you’re an ass and you deserve to choke on dirty diaper fumes.” Susie grinned. “You’re lucky I didn’t let you hyperventilate.”

  “I appreciate it. Truly.” He was trying on sarcasm. It seemed to fit.

  “Wow, I didn’t know you truly cared.” Susie still seemed skeptical. “I mean, not that it makes any difference. Like I told you, January has moved on.”

  All of the remaining hope went out of him. “She’s really done with me.” He couldn’t believe it. It was over. “I blew my one chance at happiness. She hates me, and I don’t blame her.”

  Susie sighed and pulled out her phone. She started thumb typing.

  “What are you doing?” Was she going to help him?

  She pointed her phone at him and snapped a picture.

  This didn’t look like help.

  She started thumb typing again.

  “I guess you’re not going to help me.” He sounded pitiful even to his own ears.

  She held up a hand and then did more furious thumb typing.

  He checked his watch. Susie was the last appointment of the day. What if he followed her until she led him to January? It was a ridiculous plan, but he was pretty much out of options.

  “Give me your phone.” Susie held out her hand.

  “Why?” Was she planning on deleting all of the pictures he had of January? That would be one way of completely cutting her out of his life forever.

  “I’m deciding whether to help you or not. On second thought, I don’t want your phone. I was going to put my number in there so when I called, you’d know who it was, but it just occurred to me that if you have my number you’re just going to bother me. Give me your cell number if you want my help.”

  He recited the numbers.

  “I’ll text you January’s address when the time is right.” Susie sounded like she might be having fun playing at being a double agent.

  “When will that be? I can’t wait. I want her address now.”

  “Fine. I won’t help you.” She picked up her purse and turned to the door.

  “Okay … okay. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He looked down at his hands, almost expecting to find that he was wringing them. To his knowledge, he’d never been a hand-wringer before. It wasn’t a quality that suited an elite surgeon.

  She set her purse back on the exam table. “It might be a couple of weeks. In the meantime,” she pointed at his head and then her index finger moved all the way down his body and ended at his feet, “you need to work on this. January doesn’t want or need an unwashed, heartsick man. Take a bath, wash your clothes, and take some pride in yourself. Man up. She deserves the best.” She sat back down on the exam table. “I hope there’s more to you than just being a doctor. That’s your job, but it isn’t who you are. January needs someone who knows himself inside and out. I get the feeling that the only thing you know about yourself is that you’re a physician. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a very good one, but maybe you need to find out who you are beyond that, and what else you want out of life.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Giles’s brain raced as sat in his office typing up his notes after finishing Susie’s examination. Susie was right. About the bathing—he’d wallowed in self-pity long enough—but also about his life. He’d never really given much thought to what he wanted out of life that didn’t involve medicine. It was time he faced facts: medicine wasn’t forever. He had maybe fifteen or twenty years left in orthopedics. What happened after he retired? If he didn’t win January back, he’d be all alone. But it wasn’t just about retirement. He no longer imagine a life that was as boring and black-and-white as it had been before he’d met January.

  January had brought color to his life. Now that he’d had a taste of happiness, he wanted it all. The wife, the family, the happy ever after.

  January would never stand for being second to his career. She deserved the best possible version of himself, and she was going to get it.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Two whole weeks after January closed on the house, she was finally able to move in … sort of. According to Bru, it wasn’t exactly move-in ready, but she was willing to take her chances. Logically, she knew there was no way that her house was ready, but she had hope. After all, the Property Brothers remodeled an entire house in less than an hour.

  Living in Susie’s guest room had been fun, but her menagerie of rescued animals woke up early and were very loud. Not city loud but country loud. It would have been okay, if she’d been used to it, but January hadn’t grown up on a ranch, and she’d found Susie’s ten-acres-worth of chores overwhelming. And Susie didn’t have pizza delivery. Pizza delivery was as American as apple pie and McDonald’s. It was in the Bill of Rights next to freedom of speech.

  January pulled her Leaf into her new driveway and parked in front of the detached garage.

  Bru had insisted the house be inspected for lead paint, asbestos, lead plumbing, cotton-fiber insulated wiring, and something called balloon framing, which he’d tried to explain but it was really boring so she’d tuned him out. Of course he’d found all of them except balloon framing, and it had taken two weeks of eighteen-hour days before the lead paint was removed, the asbestos abated, and all of the plumbing and wiring replaced.

/>   Bru had warned her that her house was under construction and she’d be more comfortable living elsewhere, but January couldn’t wait.

  This was her new house and her new life.

  She didn’t miss Giles, not in the least. And if she told herself that over and over and over again, she might start to believe it.

  So what if her house was minus a few walls? She popped the hatchback and grabbed the first box. She’d brought over only the essentials—family photos, hair-grooming tools, makeup, her fluffy UGG slippers.

  Bru had set up a double bed in the front bedroom for her. With stained-glass dormer windows casting red, green, and yellow light down on the room, it would be a perfect place to lay her head until the master could be de-Futro-ed.

  Balancing the box on the door trim and her left hip, she pushed the front door open.

  “Sweet Jesus.” There weren’t just a couple of walls missing; he’d taken everything down to the studs.

  Bru jumped up to help her with the box. “Careful.” He pointed to a hole in the floor.

  She looked down. White plastic pipes snaked under the wood.

  “Where’s my antique pine floor?” This was going to take weeks, possibly even months, to fix.

  “It’s fine. I had to remove a few sections to run new conduit and plumbing.” He set the box down and pointed to a pile of floorboards stacked against the wall. “We’ll put them back where we found them. They’re even numbered so that they go back in exactly the same place as we found them.”

  “This is a little more than a few missing walls.” Could she really live in this?

  “I distinctly remember telling you it would be better if you lived somewhere else during the construction. It’s going to be a big mess for a while.” Bru slipped the fat pencil from behind his ear, marked something on a board, and slid the pencil back behind his ear.

  “Since when do I listen to you?” She squatted and examined the hole. “You command that I do something, I do the opposite … it’s our bonding ritual.”