A Perfect Homecoming

by Lisa Dyson

  The diagnosis of his older sister’s son, Jeremy, with a debilitating syndrome requiring exhaustive therapy had been the defining moment when Kyle realized not everyone could afford proper medical care for their children. His sister, Maddie, was one of the lucky ones.

  “Mrs. Thornton’s hundred k would have made a lot of children’s lives better.”

  Ashleigh swiped at her cheek. Darkness was closing in when she said softly, “You’re following through on the idea my dad always talked about.”

  * * *

  ASHLEIGH COULDN’T BELIEVE Kyle had taken her dad’s idea and run with it. She should have been the one to carry on her dad’s brainchild. But she’d barely been able to function after she left Grand Oaks, while Kyle had put his energy into doing good for others—exactly what she should have done to honor her father.

  Her dad and his older sister had been raised by an elderly aunt after they lost their parents at a young age, so there had been no money for the multiple surgeries his sister should have had to correct a congenital facial deformity. She drowned accidentally as a teenager, but Ashleigh’s father always thought it had been his sister’s way of freeing herself from the looks and ridicule she’d constantly received.

  And now Kyle was following up on her father’s dream.

  “I’ll call Mrs. Thornton and see what I can do,” she said. “I’ve gotten pretty good at talking people out of their money.”

  “No!” Kyle thundered. “Stay out of it.”

  She was taken aback. “But I can help—”

  “There’s nothing you can do. You’ve done enough damage. Don’t say or do anything more.”

  “But it was what my dad always hoped for,” she said. “He always talked about how so many children were in need of our help.” Ashleigh’s voice caught. “He just didn’t live long enough to put it into action.”

  “I know.”

  They were silent a few minutes before Ashleigh finally spoke. “I’m really very sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to jeopardize your funding. If there’s anything, and I mean anything, I can do to make it right, I’ll be happy to help.”

  He didn’t answer as he looked straight out over the steering wheel into the near darkness.

  He didn’t appear to have anything more to say. Ashleigh reached for the door handle and exited the vehicle. When she reached Paula’s front door, she turned to look at Kyle’s truck and whispered, “Good night, Kyle.”

  He had taken on a huge task by starting the charity. Her heart squeezed and a lump formed in her throat.

  An unexpected emotional reaction caused by her ex-husband.

  She didn’t know whether to be happy, sad or downright confused.

  No doubt about it. Definitely confused.

  * * *

  BY NINE-THIRTY, the out-of-the-way piano bar was beginning to get crowded and Ashleigh had to park behind the building.

  Theresa was already there, perched at a pub-height table near the far wall. She raised a hand to wave at Ashleigh, who smiled and made her way through the modern industrial furnishings. The place had received quite an overhaul since the last time she’d been there.

  The sleek and modern glossy black bar took up most of the right side of the room with its U shape and smoky gray leather bar stools with stainless steel legs. Top-shelf liquor bottles were arranged prominently on a glass shelving unit in the center of the bar, while wineglasses, martini glasses and various other shapes and sizes of drinkware were displayed above them.

  “I’m so glad you agreed to come tonight.” Theresa pulled a surprised Ashleigh in for a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  Theresa raised a hand to the person Ashleigh presumed was their server and soon Ashleigh was ordering a dirty martini.

  “I like your new haircut,” Ashleigh told her, not knowing exactly what to talk about. She’d never really known Theresa until she’d begun dating Tom. Even then, they hadn’t been close friends. In fact, Ashleigh couldn’t remember the last time she and Theresa had even spoken. Certainly not since Ashleigh moved away.

  Theresa touched a hand to her head and smiled over her glass before taking a sip of the green liquid she’d said was an appletini. “Thanks. After, well, you know...” Theresa’s broken engagement to Tom was old news. “Anyway, I needed a change after that.”

  Ashleigh briefly touched on the parts of her own life that were different since her divorce and she realized she’d changed everything around her, but physically she had remained the same. She wasn’t sure what that said about her, but maybe the dirty martini the server set in front of her would provide answers.

  She took a sip and nearly sighed aloud. She set the glass aside.

  At least Kyle had come clean about not being in a relationship with Theresa and she didn’t have to worry about that discussion....

  To hell with it. She’d taken a verbal lashing from Kyle tonight. She picked up her glass and gulped down a mouthful. Ashleigh wasn’t technically on call until the morning since she’d arranged with the hospital emergency room to care for any of her patients who called her answering service. “So tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  She half listened while Theresa told her about teaching third grade and her new apartment, but completely avoided a mention of her social life. Ashleigh could understand why Tom couldn’t get over Theresa, with her blond hair now cut in a perky bob and those big round sapphire blue eyes and long lashes. Tonight she was dressed in a bright pink V-neck top that fit snuggly over her shapely figure and was paired with black skinny jeans and platform heels.

  With half a drink in her, Ashleigh blurted, “What’s with you and Kyle? I’ve heard mixed stories.”

  Theresa immediately choked on a bite-size cheese cracker from the snack bowl on their table.

  Ashleigh rose to help her but Theresa raised a hand. “I’m fine,” she said hoarsely. “Give me a sec.”

  “I’ll get you some water.” Ashleigh got their server’s attention, miming a drink. As soon as she saw Theresa coughing, the server raised a finger before hotfooting it to the bar.

  A glass of water appeared in front of Theresa as if by magic. “Thanks so much,” Ashleigh told the server.

  Theresa finally settled down and was able to speak. “I’m sorry about that. Um...the cracker went down the wrong way.”

  Ashleigh waited in silence for Theresa to reply to her question.

  “It’s not what you think.” Theresa spoke quickly, reaching out for Ashleigh’s forearm. “Kyle’s a friend, that’s all. I’ve been helping him set up his nonprofit. Someone saw us together and made the assumption. The story grew from there. You know small-town gossips.” She laughed then. “It’s kind of great that even you were fooled into thinking there’s something going on between us.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” Ashleigh told her. “It’s none of my business. Whatever’s going on with you and Kyle has nothing to do with me.” Although her story did match up with Kyle’s.

  Theresa sighed. “But you don’t understand. I’m not interested in Kyle as more than a friend. A platonic friend,” she added. “I’m still in love with Tom. That’s why I haven’t been correcting the rumor, hoping to make Tom jealous.”

  Ashleigh furrowed her brow. “You’re still in love with Tom?” At Theresa’s nod, Ashleigh continued, “Weren’t you the one who called off the wedding?”

  “Yes,” Theresa said. “I didn’t know what else to do. No matter how many times I talked to him about how he took me for granted, he never got it. He gave me no choice but to break off our engagement.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, at the beginning, I was convinced Tom would miss me and would work harder at fixing our relationship.”

  “But that didn’t happen.” Ashleigh realized from her conversation with Tom earlier in the day that he didn’t know
how to fix their relationship—or even how to get back into one with his ex-fiancée.

  That wasn’t for her to tell Theresa, though. If Tom wanted her to know, he would have to do it himself.

  “So you and Kyle are just friends and working on the nonprofit?”

  Theresa chuckled. “Yes, but if Tom thinks otherwise, then I’m okay with it. A little taste of the green-eyed monster never hurt anyone.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?” Ashleigh already knew the answer.

  Theresa’s hangdog look spoke volumes. “It’s not. I’m pretty sure Tom doesn’t even care.” Her eyes became bright with tears and Ashleigh was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to do to get him back.”

  “Would you like me to talk to him?” Ashleigh couldn’t stop meddling.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t ask you here to get you to help me. I wanted to make sure you knew there’s nothing going on between Kyle and me.” Theresa raised her eyebrows and added, “You know there’s no one for Kyle but you.”

  “Not true,” Ashleigh said, although her statement wasn’t as heartfelt as she’d expected.

  “Yes, true. Kyle would never settle for anyone he thinks doesn’t live up to your perfection.”

  “Perfection?” Is that what people thought of her? “I’m far from perfect.”

  Theresa smiled. “You don’t see what the rest of us see.”

  Just then their server interrupted their conversation. “Excuse me, ladies, but these are from the gentlemen at that table.” She set down two fresh drinks on their table and pointed to two men a few tables over who waved.

  Ashleigh and Theresa waved back and mouthed, Thank you.

  The two women looked at each other and grinned. “This hasn’t happened to me since medical school.” Ashleigh laughed.

  “It’s never happened to me,” Theresa said, then added under her breath, “probably because I don’t hang around in bars.” She grimaced. “What should we do?”

  Ashleigh’s phone vibrated. She held up a finger to Theresa and she checked the caller ID. Kyle. He could leave a message. She’d been yelled at enough tonight.

  “What do you want to do?” Ashleigh asked.

  Theresa’s eyes widened. “I don’t know!”

  Ashleigh laughed. “Let’s let them make the first move.” She didn’t feel like explaining to strange men why she no longer dated, even if they weren’t bad looking.

  The men rose from their seats in tandem and were walking toward the women when Ashleigh’s phone vibrated again. “Now what?” She checked the caller ID. Paula’s home number. “I’ve got to take this,” she told Theresa. “Hello?” She headed to the front door, gesturing to her phone when she passed the men who’d bought the drinks.

  “Where the hell are you?” Kyle barked into her ear. “And why aren’t you listening to your messages?”

  Ashleigh pulled the phone away from her ear to check the screen. Three messages. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear my phone. What’s wrong?”

  “Paula’s in labor. I’m taking her to the hospital.”

  “Labor?” Her stomach cramped and she could barely breathe. “Did her water break?”

  “No.”

  “What about the boys?” she asked.

  “Spending the night with a neighbor,” he said, “I couldn’t reach you.”

  She stopped before she apologized. Now wasn’t the time to bicker with Kyle.

  She should have stayed home with Paula tonight. Ashleigh’s stomach acid made itself known. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  KYLE HAD CALLED ahead to let the hospital know he was bringing Paula in, so they were met with a wheelchair when he pulled up to the emergency room entrance.

  “Thanks, Tim,” he said to the orderly who’d opened the passenger-side door and helped Paula transfer to the wheelchair by the time Kyle came around the vehicle. “I can take her from here. Would you mind pulling my truck into the staff lot for me?”

  “No problem, Doc.” The tall, wiry young man with dreadlocks smiled when Kyle tossed him the keys.

  “Great, thanks. Give my keys to whoever’s manning the E.R. desk.” Kyle turned his attention to Paula, struggling with her relaxation breaths. “Can you talk through it?” he asked. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes since her last contraction.

  “Barely,” she gasped, then inhaled deeply and blew out slowly when she reached the end of the contraction.

  “Hang in there. Dr. Bausch is on her way. She’ll meet us up on five,” he said, referring to the labor and delivery floor. He wheeled her into the hospital, through the emergency room to the elevator.

  Paula simply nodded, conserving her energy.

  A few minutes later, after Paula’s care had been transferred to a labor and delivery nurse, Kyle found himself pacing the hallway outside of Paula’s labor room.

  Much like the times he had been here to verify Ashleigh had suffered a miscarriage. Or the one incomplete miscarriage that had required a D and C. He wrung his hands and cracked his knuckles. What a nightmare those times had been.

  Why wasn’t his brother here? And why the hell was this happening when Paula wasn’t even thirty-three weeks along?

  Should he try to contact Scott? Probably not until they knew what was going on for sure. His brother wouldn’t make it home in time anyway.

  How big was the baby? Were his or her lungs developed enough to survive? Would there be lasting medical consequences after such an early birth?

  His heart raced at every new worry that came into his head.

  “How is she?” A breathless Dr. Rosalinda Bausch came up behind him, as if she’d taken the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. She wore jeans and sneakers, barely a hint of makeup on her olive complexion, and her always meticulously styled dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “I was at my son’s soccer game,” she explained.

  “Sorry about that, Rosy. Paula’s in there.” He pointed to the closed door. “We got here a few minutes ago.” He gave her the scoop on Paula’s contractions. “That’s all I know.” He could only hope they’d be able to stop her labor before Paula reached the point of no return.

  “Okay.” Rosy spoke over her shoulder with one hand raised to knock on Paula’s door, the other on the doorknob. “I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”

  She no sooner disappeared into Paula’s room than Ashleigh came rushing down the hall. “How’s Paula?” She impatiently brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  He gestured to the seating area a short way down the hall and repeated what he knew, staring at the carpeting while he spoke.

  They were silent for several minutes, each sitting several feet away from each other in straight-backed blue vinyl-and-metal chairs in the small alcove that served as the labor and delivery waiting room. A flat-screen TV mounted high on the wall was tuned to an all-news station with a lively woman talking incessantly while stock prices and headlines streamed across the bottom of the screen.

  He recalled the many other times he’d waited here. The world around you went on, no matter how much pain you were in at the time.

  A sniffle from Ashleigh’s direction caught Kyle’s attention. She sniffed again, leaning over to dig through her purse for something. Her hair was loose and hung down over her face. She finally hefted her purse onto her lap and continued searching, pulling things out to get a better look.

  Tears streamed down her face.

  “Paula’s going to be fine.” Damn. He never could resist comforting her when she was upset.

  She didn’t look at him while she continued her search.

  Before he could stop himself, he changed seats to sit next to her. He put a gentle hand on her back, relieved when she didn’t shrug him off. “She’s getting
the best care.” He spoke quietly, trying to reassure both of them.

  She stared straight ahead and whispered, as if to herself, “Sometimes that’s not enough.”

  * * *

  ASHLEIGH’S MIND WAS going a mile a minute and she couldn’t put the brakes on.

  Yes, she was extremely worried about her sister and her baby, but that didn’t block out the memories of every time Ashleigh had been on this floor. She wrapped her arms around her shoulder bag and squeezed it to her middle like a pillow, reliving the associated pain and heartache she’d suffered.

  How many times had she come to this floor? Not only when she miscarried, one of those times requiring a D and C, but multiple times for testing, too. The specialists always started out with encouraging phrases like “eighty percent success rates” before eventually crushing her hopes with “nothing more we can do.”

  She glanced at Kyle. This seating area was where he had waited for news about her on several occasions, but he couldn’t possibly have experienced the same emptiness she had when she’d miscarried. The distress in the pit of her stomach when she’d spotted, knowing it signified the end of another pregnancy. The end of her hopes for the child she carried. The end of her dreams for having a family. The harsh reality that she’d failed to give Kyle the children he had anticipated.

  The children he deserved.

  A tear dripped onto her forearm and she swiped at the stream running down her cheeks, hoping Kyle didn’t notice. She blotted her runny nose with the balled-up tissue she’d dug from her purse a few minutes ago.

  “I’m sure your sister will be fine.” Kyle repeated his prediction, misinterpreting her tears.

  Ashleigh didn’t correct him.

  “In all probability,” he continued, “Paula’s already been given steroids to protect the baby’s lungs and antibiotics to prevent infection. If her membrane hasn’t ruptured, then Rosy will probably prescribe a calcium-channel blocker to stop labor.”