by Lisa Dyson
The time on her dashboard clock read 2:35 p.m., which meant she’d have plenty of time to get to the library, as well as play with her nephews before making dinner.
Maybe if she was lucky, her sister would be napping when Ashleigh arrived and there would be no need for conversation.
* * *
KYLE SPENT THE entire day painting the bedroom he was turning into his home office. Pleased with the results of his neutral color choice called mocha, he wiped an errant spot of paint from the hardwood floor. Then he cleaned his roller and tray before showering. Hopefully he’d get the second coat on tomorrow.
He’d moved into the two-bedroom apartment not long after Ashleigh left their small apartment over the pediatric practice. He couldn’t bear to stay there without her. Too many memories flooded his brain every time he crossed the threshold.
Their first night there.
The intimate dinners they’d shared, sometimes not making it through the meal before their sexual appetites for each other became more important than sustenance.
The lazy Sunday mornings they stayed in bed, made love, did the crossword puzzle together, made love again, and then showered together. Blissfully whittling away the day.
Then there was the first positive pregnancy test, followed shortly thereafter by a miscarriage. They’d been devastated. But soon afterward they had another positive pregnancy test. They had no doubts about the second pregnancy because they both understood that spontaneously aborted first pregnancies were common.
They turned out to be overwhelmingly wrong in that assumption.
He never saw it coming. One day he’d been in the E.R. when the head of the department came in to relieve him so he could go be with his wife. He refused to acknowledge the loss of another baby until he saw the distraught look on Ashleigh’s face in the OB’s office. Her tearstained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, now devoid of emotion, made it real for him.
That pattern continued until they’d closed themselves off from both the world and each other. Cocoons of pain, grief and loneliness. He spent every free moment researching new cures and procedures for miscarriages, with no success.
Kyle took a deep breath and pulled himself from the past. He turned off the shower and yanked his towel from the rack.
He’d barely stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. He wasn’t on call, so he stood in the doorway leading from the bathroom to his bedroom, listening for a message on the answering machine which sat on his bedside table.
“Kyle, this is Edna Thornton. Please call me as soon as possible.”
“What in the world could she want?” he said aloud when she ended the message.
He hurried to towel off and dress in jeans and a T-shirt before returning her call.
“Hello, Mrs. Thornton, this is Kyle Jennings,” he said when she answered the phone. “How are you?”
She skipped the pleasantries. “I saw your wife today. Ex-wife, I guess you would call her.” She sounded perturbed and Kyle didn’t know why.
“Yes, Ashleigh’s in town for a few weeks,” he confirmed.
What Edna Thornton told him next made him want to throw something against the wall.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ASHLEIGH GOT INTO her car in the Grand Oaks library parking lot and started the engine. The newspaper articles hadn’t provided any more information about the car crash and subsequent injuries of the driver and passenger. The one thing she’d learned were the ages of those involved. The driver was thirty, his passenger currently in a coma was a mere twenty-two.
Tom had pretty much given Ashleigh the lowdown on the situation. The one thing missing in the follow-up articles was a mention of the lawsuit. She still didn’t understand why the driver was suing Kyle—he would have absolutely checked for medical-alert jewelry before giving him anything. She knew that with all certainty.
How tragic for everyone involved.
With the engine still idling, she retrieved her cell phone to search for the Richmond hospital’s number. She entered it into her phone, hit Call, and the operator answered on the first ring.
“I’d like the condition of—” Ashleigh glanced at the paper where she’d written the young woman’s name. “The condition of Miranda Green.”
“One moment, please.”
Silence would have been preferable to the interminable recorded message over an eighties song blaring in her ear.
“Fourth floor,” the young-sounding woman on the other end finally answered.
Ashleigh repeated her request.
“Ms. Green’s condition is stable but critical,” Ashleigh was told. “Are you a relative?”
She could have lied or at least mentioned she was a doctor so she’d be transferred to the R.N. assigned to the patient, but that wasn’t how she operated. “No, I’m not.”
“Visitors are limited to immediate family,” the hospital employee said. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can say.”
“I understand,” Ashleigh said. “Thank you very much,” and ended the call.
She tossed her phone into her bag and put her car in Reverse to back out of the parking space. What a horrible situation for both the patient and her family, losing valuable time while she remained in a coma...with no idea if she’d be the same person when and if she regained consciousness.
So much for trying to help Kyle. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her help anyway from the way he’d been treating her. She just couldn’t stand seeing him wrongfully accused of something.
Maybe there was some sort of public record that she could look up to see what the guy was claiming. If only she knew where to begin... Oh, well, she’d run out of ideas for the time being.
She arrived at Paula’s to find the boys had finished their homework and were now playing their daily allotment of video games.
She went downstairs into the basement to check on her nephews. “Can I play?” She’d never been good at video games. Her focus had been on schooling as a kid and young adult, but she was hoping for a good bonding experience with her nephews.
Both boys stared slack-jawed at her, their unabashed shock at her request a little insulting.
“Do you know how to play?” Ryan asked.
“Not the game you’re playing,” she said. “But I’m sure you guys are good teachers.”
The boys glanced at each other. “Sure. Okay,” Mark said.
Ashleigh grinned at them, glad they didn’t mind including her in their fun. “Good. I’ll go change and be back in a flash.”
Thirty minutes later Ashleigh was comfortable in jeans and a fitted tee, still trying to remember which buttons did what on the game controller. Her hesitation made the boys laugh hysterically each time she made a mistake.
Another fifteen minutes and she was begging for mercy.
When the game was over and she’d lost both in score and integrity, Mark said, “Uncle Kyle is way better than you.”
“Yeah,” Ryan chimed in. “You should have him give you some lessons.”
“Thanks for the bruise to my ego, guys.” Ashleigh’s words were lighter than her heart at the mention of Kyle.
Mark narrowed his eyes. “Aunt Ashleigh, why aren’t you and Uncle Kyle still married?”
Ashleigh’s breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She hadn’t seen that question coming. “Well, what has your mom told you?”
As good a place as any to start.
“Mom said you and Uncle Kyle didn’t get along even more than Ryan and me,” Mark said.
“And that’s why you got a ’vorce,” Ryan added.
“De-vorce,” Mark corrected with overdone enunciation.
Ashleigh’s cell phone erupted into song and she couldn’t help thinking she’d been figuratively “saved by the bell.”
“I should get this
,” she told them, even though she didn’t recognize the number. She struggled to get up from the floor, her legs stiff. “I’ll be right back, guys.”
She hobbled upstairs to the kitchen where it was quieter. “Hello?”
“Hi, Ashleigh, this is Theresa Banks.”
“Hi, Theresa.” She was surprised to hear from her so soon after talking to her at the restaurant earlier that day. “What’s up?”
There was a slight hesitation before Theresa spoke. “I was serious about getting together and I wondered if you might want to meet up for a drink tonight.”
“Tonight?” Ashleigh repeated, feeling a little stupid for sounding like an echo simply because she didn’t want to hear Theresa confirm that she was involved with Kyle.
“Yeah, I’d like to get your advice on something.”
Something or someone? Had Ashleigh suddenly become the Dear Abby of Grand Oaks? First Tom, now Theresa.
Ashleigh couldn’t help cringing at the idea that Theresa might want Ashleigh to give her blessing for her to date Kyle.
“Listen, Theresa,” Ashleigh began.
“Please don’t say no,” Theresa begged, not allowing Ashleigh to finish.
She was struck by the raw emotion in Theresa’s plea. Ashleigh had nothing else going on after the boys were tucked into bed. Her sister would probably go to sleep early and Ashleigh would have her cell phone in case she was needed.
She was a relatively free woman on a Saturday night.
“All right. But I’ll have to wait until after the boys are in bed,” Ashleigh said.
“Agreed.” Theresa named a quiet bar on the road to Millersville. “Nine-thirty work for you?”
“Sounds good, see you then.” Ashleigh disconnected, thinking at least she’d have a drink in her hand to provide a crutch when she gave Theresa the okay to see Kyle—not like her previous conversation with him when she claimed she didn’t care if he dated or not. She could have used a whole bottle of whiskey during and after that.
She went back downstairs and turned her concentration back to the boys.
“Next time we’ll play a game of my choice,” Ashleigh told them after another fifteen minutes of video game hell where they constantly laughed at her ineptitude. “I better start dinner.”
“Can we have pizza?” Mark asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah!” Ryan added his vote.
“Hmm.” Ashleigh considered it. “Let me talk to your mom and see what she wants.”
“She loves pizza,” Ryan said. “Especially with yucky vegetables on it.”
Mark made a gagging sound.
“Okay, okay.” Ashleigh laughed. “If we do pizza, then what do you want on it besides vegetables?”
The boys’ noses turned up and their tongues came out.
“We like cheese.” Mark spoke emphatically and added a beguiling smile.
“Yeah, just cheese,” Ryan echoed. “And sauce and crust, too.”
“Deal. I’ll talk to your mom.”
Ashleigh checked with Paula before calling in the order to their favorite pizza place. “Pizza will be here in a few minutes,” she told the boys. “Finish that game and put everything away before washing up.”
“Okay,” they chorused.
Ten minutes later there was a loud knock on the door. Thinking it was pretty quick for the pizza delivery, Ashleigh took a step toward the door only to have it fly open before she got there.
“Kyle?”
His expression was unreadable.
“We’ve ordered pizza,” she told him. “There’s enough if you haven’t eaten yet.”
His narrowed eyes burned through her. “We need to talk.” His jaw muscles clenched.
Not good. Not good at all.
Mark clunked down the steps from upstairs in untied basketball shoes, Ryan right behind him. “Hey, Uncle Kyle,” Mark said.
“Hey, guys.” Kyle’s tone was almost friendly. Then he looked at Ashleigh and repeated gruffly, “We need to talk.”
She squinted at him. “O...kay,” she said slowly.
“Privately.”
* * *
KYLE RELAXED HIS fisted hands. The short drive from his apartment to Paula’s house hadn’t helped cool his temper.
“Pizza will be here soon,” Ashleigh said. “Will this take long?”
“I don’t know.” Kyle hesitated. “I’ll go say hello to Paula. And once the pizza arrives, I’ll get the boys settled with dinner and then we’ll talk.” The privacy of his truck was probably the best place for this discussion in case their voices rose, which he fully expected. No need to draw an audience.
Ashleigh’s eyes were wary. She must have sensed his anger, because she was much too agreeable.
Kyle was headed down the hallway to see Paula when the doorbell rang. It wouldn’t be long now before Ashleigh would have to explain herself.
Paula’s bedroom door was open and he knocked lightly on the doorjamb. She looked up from her laptop and he said, “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath. He was lousy at hiding his anger. “Your sister. Don’t want to get into it.”
“Ah!” Paula nodded knowingly, specifics unnecessary.
He half listened while Paula shared news about his brother. Scott’s ship would be returning to port in Newport News within the next few weeks.
“Which means he’ll hopefully be here when the baby arrives.” Paula was almost giddy.
Paula’s excitement should have lessened his anger, but for some absurd reason he couldn’t help contemplating what it would be like to have someone—namely Ashleigh—overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with him.
Would he ever find that again? Was he even actively looking? Ashleigh was under the impression he was seeing Theresa. He still had to correct that misunderstanding, but first things first.
Ashleigh interrupted when she brought Paula her pizza loaded with onions, peppers and mushrooms. “Would you like some?” Ashleigh asked him.
“No, thanks.” His appetite had deserted him.
She turned to Paula. “The boys are eating and they’ve promised to bring you more pizza before they get seconds for themselves.” She glanced at Kyle. “I trust that whatever Kyle needs to discuss with me won’t take too long.”
Kyle kept his anger in check. “I’ll meet you at my truck.” He turned to leave and said over his shoulder, “Bye, Paula. See you later.”
He waited in his vehicle for what seemed like a long time, but his truck’s dashboard clock said it was only five minutes. The sun had set and the road was illuminated by street lanterns and porch lights.
The passenger door opened suddenly and Ashleigh slid into the leather seat.
She half turned toward him. “What’s all this about?”
His hand gripped the steering wheel so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left finger indentations. It took all his might to loosen his grip and relax enough to speak.
“I hear you were at The Tavern today with Tom,” Kyle began.
“Yes. You know Tom and I are friends.” She cocked her head. “If you have a problem with me hanging out with—”
“Stop.” Kyle held up his hand and ground out, “I told you before, I don’t care who you’re seeing or not seeing. And while we’re on the subject, I am not dating Theresa and I never have.”
“Oh.” Ashleigh’s confusion was revealed in her eyes. “Then what is your problem?”
Unintentionally, his voice rose. “My problem is what you discussed with Mrs. Thornton.”
She stiffened. “If you mean the lawsuit, then I have nothing to apologize for. You wouldn’t tell me anything,” she spit. “So I went to Tom.” She took a quick breath and he could see he
r own anger igniting. “He didn’t tell me anything that wasn’t public knowledge.”
He gritted his teeth, shut his eyes a second. He opened them and kept his voice even. “I don’t have a problem with you talking to Tom about it. I trust him to keep things confidential. What I have a problem with is you discussing it with Mrs. Thornton.”
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean? I didn’t discuss anything. I just mentioned it... I thought it was common knowledge....”
“I got a call from her today.”
“Why did she call you? Did I say something to offend her?” She continued without waiting for his answer or even taking a breath. “I thought I was polite, and what does it matter anyway since we’re divorced?”
He pounded his fist on the steering wheel. Ashleigh flinched so he deliberately lowered his voice. “She pulled her funding from my nonprofit.”
“Nonprofit?”
He ignored her interruption. “She didn’t think I was ‘the proper role model for the charity because of the lawsuit.’” The words alone made his blood boil. The lawsuit was a frivolous waste of everyone’s time and now his reputation was being tarnished because of it. “She didn’t know anything about the malpractice suit until you mentioned it.”
“But isn’t that public knowledge?” she asked.
“The accident was reported in the paper, but not the lawsuit,” he said. “Yes, she could have accessed that information, but until today she had no reason to suspect she’d have to.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ashleigh was reverent. “I had no idea. I didn’t know—”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about since you ran away.”
Her tone became churlish. “I didn’t run away, Kyle. I needed to refocus on something other than my failures.”
“And I needed to focus on something other than my grief,” he said.
She paused as if digesting his words. “What does your charity do?”
No sense in holding back now. There was no way he’d be able to move forward until he found another benefactor. If she wanted to know what she’d ruined, he’d be happy to fill her in. He took a deep breath. “I’ve been working on setting up a fund for children in need of nonemergency medical care. Things insurance won’t cover. With so many people on unemployment, there are elective procedures people can’t provide for their children. Orthodontics, cranial remolding, elective plastic surgery.”
