Best Medicine, The

by Brogan, Tracy

  “You fainted?” Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but I felt a little woozy myself. I put a hand to my temple as if that might steady me.

  “Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “Yes, you should! You should’ve told me when it happened! What if it had been more serious?” Concern over her well-being was replaced with worried annoyance. It was wrong for her to keep this a secret from me!

  She waved away my comment with a flick of her wrist. “Well, then I would’ve told you sooner, but it turned out to be medically insignificant. You know how sometimes these things turn out to be nothing. And Evelyn, in a way, it was the best thing that could have happened. It forced me to reevaluate all my priorities. I have an excellent cardiologist, and since I’m being honest, I also have a therapist now. I unloaded all that rage and resentment I’ve been hauling around for years, and I feel better than ever. You’d think by my age I would have figured things out, but apparently I was a hot, jumbled mess. I blamed all of that on your father, of course, but apparently some of it was my own fault.”

  She flipped her hands open in her lap, as if to say, Huh? Who knew?

  “Your fault?”

  “Well, I was pretty mad about the adultery.” Her tone was blasé, as if she’d said, I wish I’d ordered the roast beef.

  “Of course you were mad, Mom. He cheated on you.” I felt some of my own latent resentment rising to the surface. He’d been nearly as lousy a father as he was a husband.

  My mother stood up and walked toward the mirror, the dress swishing around her legs. She got close, looking at her reflection as if she were seeing it for the first time. Her voice remained utterly matter-of-fact.

  “Yes, he cheated on me, and that was his weakness. But I wasn’t entirely blameless. It was never enough for me to be as good a surgeon as he was. I wanted to be better. But the male ego is a delicate thing, Evie. He went after those vapid women because he needed to take care of someone, and I never let him do that for me. I should have given him a dragon to slay once in a while, instead of always being the dragon.”

  The room tilted. Maybe my mother had been abducted by aliens, and this was just the shell of her body being manipulated by some extraterrestrial mind-snatcher, because I’d never heard her be so philosophical or reflective. I’d never heard her take ownership of any of her own behavior. What the hell had that therapist prescribed for her?

  “You are rocking my world right now, Mom.” My voice was a breathy whisper.

  She smiled at herself and then turned back around. “This is all supposed to be good news, darling. I’m perfectly healthy and I’m taking better care of myself than ever before. So is your father, and we’re both certain we’ll get our marriage right this time.”

  “OK.” I said it slow, as if the word might detonate.

  There was so much more I should add, and ask, but my mind was like an overstuffed suitcase I was trying to close. I just couldn’t cram any more oddities in there for this trip. Cardiac arrhythmias, forgiven adultery, apologies, admissions. Was this the kind of stuff grown-up families dealt with all the time? Maybe that was a healthier way to live, but I couldn’t really say I liked it. Denial had its advantages.

  “I like that dress,” I said instead.

  She twirled like a homecoming queen. “Do you? I do too. This might be the one.” She sashayed her way over to the couch and sat back down. “I’m very happy, honey. Please be happy for me.”

  “I am. I really am.” And I realized then, I really was. Who’s to say she and my dad couldn’t make a go of it? Lord knew they were both stubborn enough to stick with it this time, if they wanted to.

  “Do you suppose that store clerk is ever coming back?” My mother looked over her shoulder for the salon attendant.

  “We’ve been here so long I think they’ve all gone to lunch.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of it. “And I’m starving.”

  “Good. I’ll take you to a nice restaurant after this. In the meantime, tell me what you’ve been up to. You said you had someone in mind to bring to the wedding.” She leaned back against the sofa. “Is he special?”

  Special? Hmm. That word had all sorts of connotations, and Tyler Connelly could fit several of them.

  “Let’s just say I’ve met some very interesting men lately, and I have been making an effort.”

  Her eyes went twinkly. “And?”

  I could tell her about Bell Harbor Singles, but so far that had proven disastrous. And I could tell her about Tyler, but I knew when she said someone special, she meant someone with true marriage potential, someone wearing scrubs or an expensive suit and tie. My mother wasn’t a snob, per se, but her expectations tended to be very specific.

  “And you’ll just have to trust me.”

  Chapter 15

  NEVER HAVING FOOD IN MY apartment was a terrible habit, but I just never thought of it until I was hungry, and then it was too late to go to the store. So I was thrilled Sunday evening to open my refrigerator and find the leftovers container from Jasper’s. My risotto! Hallelujah! I’d forgotten all about that.

  I pulled the container from the shelf and opened it. Written inside the lid was a note. A fun and flirty little note from Tyler. My nerves did a spontaneous little jiggety-jig of joy.

  “Don’t forget to think about it.” And then he’d scrawled his phone number.

  Oh, I had thought about it.

  A lot.

  During the long drive from Bell Harbor to Ann Arbor, I’d thought about it. And on the long drive from Ann Arbor back to Bell Harbor, I’d thought about it some more. Sitting there with my mother, watching rays of sunshiney love streaming out of her, I’d thought about him, about the way he made me feel, all gooey and young and full of girlish hope. If that’s what my mother had going on, maybe I could understand why she was willing to give my idiot father another chance.

  But then I thought about what Hilary and Gabby had said.

  He’s bad, bad news, Evie. His family is a fucking train wreck.

  He took my friend to prom and totally broke her heart.

  OK, the prom thing I could ignore. High school boys were not known for their sensitivity. But then again, neither were most grown men. Intellectually I knew the futility of having a relationship with him, long or short. He was infatuated with me because I’d presented a challenge. If I gave him what he wanted, he’d probably just take it and leave.

  But even if this was nothing more than just a last hurrah, what was the harm? A little foda pena for Evie. I could sure do worse than Tyler Connelly.

  I picked up my cell phone and dialed his number.

  “Hello?”

  “Tyler?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Someone left a phone number in my risotto.”

  There was a pause, and then a soft chuckle. “Evie? Oh, shoot. I meant to give my number to the dude.”

  Laughter blossomed in my throat. “Oh, wow. Sorry. You got me instead. But I’ll be sure to let him know you’re interested. He likes porn, by the way.”

  “Excellent.” Tyler’s voice was low, as if he were trying to be extra quiet. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Home. I just got back from Ann Arbor. Where are you?”

  “Call room at the MedPro station. I’m on until six a.m. But I’m walking the dogs in the morning. You should come with me.” His voice sank lower and tumbled into sexy. “You know you want to.”

  Damn it. He was right. I did want to.

  Hilary might think Tyler was a bad news kind of guy, but inviting me to go strolling in the park at sunrise was chapter one in the Nice Guy Handbook. Whatever the dysfunction in his family, Tyler seemed determined to rise above it. I respected him for that. And in spite of all the reasons I should probably say no, I very much wanted to say yes.

  And so I did.

  “Yes, I would like to go do
g walking with you in the morning.”

  “You would?” His voice lifted, then he cleared his throat and it returned to studied nonchalance. “Great. I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  Yes, he would.

  I rounded the corner before reaching the entranceway to the park and spotted Tyler sitting on a bench. He was leaning back, one arm stretched out on the back while the other hand was petting today’s dog du jour. The herd of furballs had been replaced by a big, gangly black-and-tan fellow with wavy fur. A cross between a German shepherd, a sheepdog, and maybe a little Chewbacca. His head was resting in Tyler’s lap as he gazed up at him adoringly.

  I might understand how that dog felt.

  “You’re not a very good dog walker if all you do is sit there,” I said.

  Tyler turned and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. I wished he wouldn’t do that. I could focus better when not blinded by those eyes, or his ultrabright smile. But I was suddenly facing down all of that.

  The dog stood up and wagged its tail so fast and furious I could feel the breeze from three feet away.

  “It’s about time you got here. We’ve been waiting.” He patted the spot on the bench next to him. “Sit.”

  Both the dog and I complied, but instantly the pooch moved closer to nuzzle up between us. I scratched his head. His tail whumped against the ground.

  “Who’s this guy?” I asked.

  “Panzer.”

  “Like the tank?”

  “Yeah, but he’s sweet. Aren’t you, boy?” Tyler scratched him under the chin, and the dog snuffled closer still. “Too bad today is his last day.”

  A cloud passed overhead, dimming the already overcast sky. “His last day? Why?”

  “If he doesn’t get adopted by tomorrow, he’s a goner. He’s been at the shelter, but nobody wants him because he’s so old. He lived with the same lady since he was a puppy, but she just went to a nursing home and couldn’t take him. She thinks her son is keeping him, but he dumped Panzer off at the animal shelter instead.”

  “Oh, that’s so sad.” Poor dog. And poor little old lady.

  “I know. I wish I could get him adopted.” We sat in silence for a few seconds, each of us playing with one of Panzer’s ears while the dog sighed in doggy bliss, ignorant of his impending demise.

  Tyler turned to me after a moment, his eyes growing brighter. “Hey, are you in the market for a dog?”

  “Me? What? Oh, hell no. I can’t take a dog. My apartment is the size of a laptop.”

  “Yeah, but you’re moving soon, right?” His tone was hopeful, leaving me to feel like a troll under the bridge. Because no way was I taking this dog, no matter how sad his end-of-life story was, and no matter how endearingly either of them was gazing at me.

  “No. I’m never home. It wouldn’t be fair to the dog. He’d be alone all the time.”

  Tyler’s shoulders slumped. “OK. That’s no good then. Let’s walk.” He stood up and moved through the entrance of the park with the big mutt loping alongside him.

  I stood too, but guilt weighed me down. “I’m sorry I can’t help.”

  I’m not sure if I was saying that to the nearly dearly departed dog or to the very-much-alive man.

  “That’s OK. Just thought I’d ask. Come on.” He kept moving down the path, and I hurried to catch up as my mind filled with all the reasons why I could not have a dog.

  I’d never even had a dog. I wouldn’t know how to take care of him. Even if he was the world’s best slipper-retrieving, newspaper-fetching, toe-warming superdog, I still didn’t have a place in my life for a pet.

  We trudged along the path, gravel crunching.

  “I really can’t take a dog,” I said decisively.

  Tyler chuckled. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”

  “But you’re not saying anything.”

  He smiled down at me. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. Tough shift last night.”

  “Are you sure that’s it? You’re not upset about the dog?”

  He stopped walking. Panzer sat down, his big pink tongue lolling out to the side. “Of course not. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It was a spontaneous suggestion.”

  I frowned. “OK, but now I feel bad. Like I should help him.”

  “Evie, he’s no worse off now than he was five minutes ago. You don’t have anything to feel bad about.”

  “But I do.” I actually felt a little misty. What the hell was the matter with me, getting all sentimental about a dog I’d known for two minutes?

  Tyler reached out and slid his hand down my arm until his fingers twined with mine. “Well, don’t feel bad. Come on, let’s walk. I need to get home and get some sleep.”

  We started walking, and I tried to remember the last time I’d held hands with someone. It was nice, and our silence became companionable instead of stifling. Still, Panzer’s fate followed us like a Dementor.

  “How old is he?” I asked after a minute. I looked at Panzer, and I’ll be damned if that dog didn’t bat his lashes at me.

  Tyler’s laughter was breathy. He wore a pale blue T-shirt today. Did he deliberately wear blue just to make his eye color pop? It was manipulative as hell and totally unfair.

  “I’m not even going to tell you, Evie. This dog is not your problem. Come on. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “How old is he?” I asked again. “The least I can do is ask around at the office today and see if anyone else is interested in him.”

  He thought on that a minute. “OK, that might be helpful. He’s fifteen. That’s pretty old for a dog of his size. He’s probably only got a year or two left as it is.”

  “All right. Well, if I hear of anyone looking for an old dog, I’ll call you. I have your number, you know.” I tried to sound flirty, and Tyler smirked, so I must have succeeded.

  We walked farther along the path until it forked, with half going off toward the beach but the other staying in the park. We kept to that one, letting Panzer set the pace as he sniffed every single tree and waved his tail like a flag. The breeze picked up, rustling leaves and making me wish I’d brought a jacket. Off to the west, dark clouds were rolling in, looking as ominous as Panzer’s future.

  “How often does a dog like this need to be let outside?” I asked as Panzer snuffled his wet nose against the palm of my hand.

  Tyler stared at me, his eyes sleepy. “I’m not letting you take this dog.” His tone invited no debate, but I debated anyway.

  “Just answer the question. How much attention does a dog this size and age require?” I was only trying to get my facts straight so I could pass that information on to my colleagues. Surely one of them could take this dog. Hilary could handle him. One more dog? She wouldn’t even notice.

  “More time and energy than you’ve got, if you have to ask that,” Tyler said. “Trust me, I’ll figure something out.”

  Of course he would. Rescuing and caretaking were his hobbies.

  “You do that a lot, don’t you?” I said.

  “What?”

  “Figure something out? Come to the rescue? Like you did for your brother? And me.”

  He shrugged. “I guess.”

  “So, who takes care of you?” It was a leading question. An intimate question, and it seemed to stump him.

  “Me,” he finally said. “I take care of myself.”

  That sounded familiar.

  It sounded like me.

  We walked a little farther, but the sky was getting darker by the minute, heavy, bruise-colored clouds blowing in from over the lake. Just as we turned on the last curve in the path heading back toward the entrance, the first fat droplet pelted my head, and in seconds the rain was coming down in earnest.

  We ran like crazy ninjas toward the nearest gazebo, a six-foot round, rickety structure with a roof but no walls. It did
n’t look sturdy enough to hold us, but if we stood in the center, we might just escape the worst of this storm. Thunder rumbled as my shoe hit the first step, and I jumped up and over like a gazelle. The clumsy, awkward gazelle who all the other gazelles made fun of. I nearly slipped, but Tyler caught me around the waist and kept me upright.

  Panzer ambled up behind us, seemingly indifferent to the storm. A few other walkers were now dashing toward the parking area, but soon it was just us.

  “That came up fast,” Tyler said, looking out at the sky. His shirt was soaked and clung to his skin in a deliciously indecent way. The rain and the wind gave his hair an adventurous tousle. I was certain I hadn’t fared so well and wiped a hand across my wet face. The wind blasted with a sharp edge through our tiny sanctuary. I shivered from the adrenaline, the cold, and the physical proximity of Tyler near me. There was no avoiding him.

  We were standing face-to-face inside the little dwelling, our heads bowed a bit to escape the rain riding on the wind. I breathed in, letting the scent of damp cotton from his T-shirt mix with the warmth emanating from his skin. I moved a little closer, and he wrapped his arms around me, just as I’d known he would.

  I relaxed into him and let myself enjoy it, this moment of letting go and giving in. Of simply being in a pair of nice strong arms. No thought of big-picture criteria, just immediate need. I was cold, he was warm. It didn’t have to be more complicated than that.

  Only it was. Because I knew right then and there how very much I wanted him. I could put it off a day, or a week, or maybe even a month, but eventually curiosity and desire would devour me, and I’d have to know what his mouth tasted like, and how those hands, now wrapped so securely around my shoulders, would feel trailing down my legs.

  I turned my face to the side and laid it against his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. He tensed for a moment, as if not certain how to interpret my motions, but after a few seconds, his hands dropped lower on my back, and he pressed me closer.