There was no point in continuing the debate. Her mother liked to have the last word. Nikki knew when to withdraw. “Well, thank you.”
Maizie’s mother antennae immediately went up. Nikki sounded as worn out as a sponge that had been pressed into service for over six months.
She was calling to subtly prod and find out if that handsome young widower had been to her daughter’s office yet. It had been several weeks since she’d given him Nikki’s number. That was a long time by her standards. She’d refrained from calling for as long as she humanly could. If she waited any longer, trying to keep herself contained, Maizie was certain she would rupture something vital inside.
Inadvertently, Nikki had given her her opening. “You sound tired, dear. How was your day?”
On the way home, Nikki had been contemplating soaking in a hot tub but wondered now if that was really such a good idea. In her present state, she just might fall asleep and drown.
Her mother had picked up on that. She might have known that she would. Her mother had hearing like a bat. As for her “intuition,” that was usually off the charts. “Good ear, Mom. As for my day, it was hectic.”
That was definitely nothing new. Nikki was always running around, doing the work of three people without taking a break. Maizie’d given up chiding her daughter and pointing out that she risked burning herself out. The warnings all fell on deaf ears.
“You always say that, Nikki,” she reminded her daughter.
“Okay,” Nikki conceded. “More hectic than usual. And before you can ask—” she was very versed in the way her mother’s mind worked “—on a scale of one to ten, today was a thirteen.”
Maizie sighed. Nikki couldn’t continue at this pace indefinitely. Eventually, something had to give. “You need to take in a partner.”
They’d danced this dance before, too, Nikki thought wearily. According to her mother, her father had worked himself to death and she knew that her mother was afraid that the same fate awaited her, as well. She couldn’t exactly fault her mother for loving her or for worrying about her.
Besides, it wouldn’t work. Her mother didn’t know how to stop worrying.
So, rather than argue with her, Nikki just laughed, albeit wearily, and teased, “What, and share all the glory?”
Maizie struggled to refrain from lecturing. That would defeat the purpose of the call. But sometimes, the girl got her so angry…She was just as stubborn as her Justin had been.
“No,” Maizie agreed, “but with any luck, you might get a little downtime out of it. You remember downtime, don’t you, Nikki? In case you’ve forgotten, that’s when you rest.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” Nikki did her best to sound upbeat and ready for more rather than someone who’d been summarily run over by a steamroller. Twice. “I like my pace.”
Ordinarily, she did. It was when she felt she was doing triple time that it got old.
“I’m sure you do. That way, you have an excuse for not having a personal life.”
Maizie bit her tongue the moment the words tumbled out. So much for her silent promise to herself not to alienate Nikki. Maybe Nikki wouldn’t take it that way. The next moment, her daughter’s reply killed that hope.
“Guess you found me out, Mom. Don’t know how the FBI manages to get along without you.”
“I don’t love the FBI,” Maizie answered, her tone serious. “I love you.”
Nikki felt like a snippy, ungrateful daughter. Her mother had given up a lot for her to be where she was today. The least she could do was put up with her mother’s quirks.
“I know you do, Mom.” She blew out a breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic. Like I said, it’s been an extralong day.”
“That’s what you get for being so good at what you do. Your loyal, pleased patients wind up recommending you to their friends and your practice winds up growing faster and faster.”
It certainly felt that way at times. Her mother’s assessment made her think of Heather Wingate and her father. A warm feeling came out of nowhere, spreading over her like a soft, comfortable blanket.
To make up for sounding waspish, Nikki decided to share a moment out of days with her mother. “As a matter of fact, I did get a new patient the other day.”
“Oh?” Did that sound as artificial as she thought it did? Maizie wondered. She dialed it down a bit before prodding further. “Anything interesting? Boy? Girl? Twins?”
“It was a girl. Seven months old. Her name was Heather and she was adorable.” As was her father. Where had that come from? Nikki upbraided herself.
“Would her parents be looking for a bigger house?” Maizie asked innocently. “I could always use new clients and referrals,” she added. “You could try to work my name into the conversation—”
“I thought you said business was good,” Nikki reminded her.
“It is, but you know this business. You’re only as good as your latest sale. It’s always hustle, hustle, hustle.”
Nikki fondly smiled. When it came to selling, her mother was a powerhouse.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mom, but I think buying a new house has already been resolved. And for the record, it’s not a husband and wife. Heather’s father is a single dad.”
“Huh,” she heard her mother utter the word thoughtfully. “Don’t see many of those around. Cute?” Maizie asked.
“The baby’s very cute,” Nikki teased, knowing full well that wasn’t what her mother was asking.
This time, the sound Nikki heard was a little exasperated. “I meant the baby’s father, Nikki.”
“I know what you meant, Mom, and yes, if you really need to know, he’s very cute. And very serious. And—” more importantly to her “—he’s also very much in love with his wife.”
“But she’s—” Maizie had almost said “dead” but stopped herself just in time “—not around,” she substituted. “That’s not healthy.”
That wasn’t for her to say either way. “He’s not my patient, his daughter is.”
Maizie frowned. She had led this horse to water and she was damn well going to see that it drank. “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that everything in a child’s background contributes to that child’s welfare and what he or she becomes?”
“Yes,” Nikki admitted unwillingly. And then she shook her head. “How is it that you can always find a way to twist my words around to suit your goals?”
Protestations of innocence would be a waste of time here, Maizie thought. So, instead, she answered, “Practice.” And then, for emphasis, Maizie repeated with feeling, “Practice, practice, practice.”
Nikki laughed. “I get it. You practice.” Nikki stifled a yawn. “Look, Mom, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have to cut this call short. Otherwise, you’re liable to wind up talking in my sleep.”
Maizie took no offense. If she knew her daughter, Nikki had gotten less than five hours sleep, five being the girl’s all-time high since she’d graduated middle school.
But still, Maizie couldn’t resist asking, “Are you telling me I’m boring?”
“No, I’m telling you that I’m dead on my feet and all I want to do right now is just crawl into bed while I still have some strength left.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock,” Maizie protested. Life was passing Nikki by without making a pit stop. She couldn’t allow that to go on. “I’m the one who should be going to bed early, not you—not unless there’s someone in that bed to crawl in next to.”
Nikki could hear the wide, wicked smile in her mother’s voice.
Good old Mom, she never stops pitching.
“If there was a man in my bed, I’d be sure to send him to you. You’re obviously the one here with the kind of energy needed to deal with that.”
Maizie sighed. “I worry about you, Nicole.” In response, she heard snoring noises on the other end of the line. For the time being, Maizie surrendered. At least Lucas had brought his daughter to Nikki. She was just going to have to b
e patient. “All right, I can take a hint, Nikki.”
Nikki laughed. “No, you can’t, but I love you anyway. Talk to you soon, Mom.”
And with that, Nikki hung up before her mother had a chance to say anything else. You had to be quick around Maizie Sommers, Nikki thought with a fond, if very weary smile.
Still seated, Nikki thought about eating dinner for exactly three seconds, then decided that she’d probably fall asleep waiting for the microwave-oven bell to go off. Besides, she was too tired to chew.
The prospect of going up the stairs was also daunting. So instead, she made her way to the guest bedroom at the back of the house. Discarded clothing marked her path as she stripped off one item after another. She was down to her underwear by the time she reached the room.
Not bothering to turn on the light, Nikki wrapped herself up in the light blue comforter that was on the bed, lay down and was asleep in less than a minute and a half.
She was surrounded by phones. Big phones, little phones, cell phones, all ringing shrilly and demanding her attention.
The ringing grew louder and louder, until it all merged into one excruciatingly annoying ring that undulated through her body, hurting her teeth.
It’s a dream, just a dream.
Struggling to hold on to sleep, Nikki kept telling herself it was a dream—until she finally realized that it wasn’t.
The phone on the nightstand was ringing.
She drew in a long, deep breath, trying to clear her head. The bedroom was completely swaddled in darkness. She had no idea what time it was.
The phone rang again. Her brain was having trouble engaging.
Maybe it was the fire department, calling to tell her to evacuate. This was the middle of fire season, which ran inordinately long in Southern California, and although she’d never had to evacuate herself, everyone in this area of the state knew someone who’d been forced to evacuate at one time or another.
That kind of an emergency, dire though it could be, only required her to put one foot in front of the other. She didn’t need to be sharp and at the top of her game.
The phone stopped ringing just as she reached for it.
Good, Nikki thought, falling back on to her pillow. With any luck, she could get back to—
The phone began to ring again.
Okay, whoever it was wasn’t going away. Fully awake and alert by now, she lifted the receiver and placed it to her ear. “Dr. Connors.”
“Doctor, I’m really sorry to bother you at this hour, but you said to call if I had an emergency.”
The voice, distressed and breathless, sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. And how had he gotten her private number? The answering service wouldn’t have given it out.
Who had she…?
And then a light went off over her head. She’d given him her phone numbers, cell and landline. The widower with the cute little girl.
“Mr. Wingate?” Sitting up, Nikki didn’t wait for his acknowledgment. “What’s wrong?”
He realized that he hadn’t even identified himself when she picked up. The woman probably thought he was an idiot. He was usually more in control than this, but he was rattled, really rattled. All that mattered was Heather.
“Heather’s burning up.”
Nikki kicked her way out of the self-styled cocoon and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. “Define ‘burning up.’”
“Hot.” There was exasperation, anger and helplessness all wrapped up in the single word.
“What is her temperature?” Nikki enunciated each word slowly and carefully. The man hadn’t struck her as one of those inept fathers so badly portrayed in the grade B sitcoms that littered the airwaves. Why was he behaving like one?
“I didn’t take it.” Lucas barely kept from snapping out the sentence. Getting hold of himself, he explained his inaction. “I was afraid that the thermometer was going to break off in her, um.” At a loss, he threw up his hands and said, “She keeps wiggling and screaming. I can’t get her to lie still. But her head’s really, really hot.”
The little girl had seemed fine during her exam the other day, but then, under the age of seven, children’s temperatures could be all over the map. High in the morning, normal in the afternoon and spiking again in the evening. It was enough to drive fear into the hearts of first-time parents.
“When did this start?” she asked.
Where were her clothes? Nikki looked around the room and then remembered her unintentional striptease as she made her way to the guest room earlier.
Getting up, she began to retrace her steps. Piece by piece, she reassembled her outfit as she made her way to the front of the house.
Lucas closed his eyes and tried to remember when he’d first noticed that Heather’s forehead was hot. “About three hours ago.” Guilt sliced through him as he recalled, “I thought I was imagining things and I put her to bed. But Heather kept crying and she just kept getting hotter and hotter. I don’t know what to do for her,” he confessed. “Should I bring Heather to the emergency room at the hospital?”
Blair Memorial was an excellent hospital, but even its staff could only go so fast in a crowded E.R. Heather needed to be seen as soon as possible—before her father became a patient, too.
“No, why don’t you let me take a look at her first,” she suggested. Because he was self-employed, she knew he had a private, individual plan as far as medical insurance went. Private plans usually didn’t even come close to covering basic visits. “There’s no need to have you waiting in the emergency room—or paying for it—if you don’t have to.”
She was in the living room now, the discarded clothes collected and bunched up against her. Nikki deposited them on the sofa. “Why don’t you give me your address and I’ll come over to see if Heather actually needs to go to the hospital. Most likely, all she’ll need are some antibiotics.”
“You make house calls?” he marveled.
“I make exceptions,” Nikki corrected. And this was a judgment call. Opening a drawer in the kitchen, she fished out a pen, then saw that she was out of paper. Improvising, she pulled off a sheet from the paper-towel rack and placed it on the counter. “Okay, give me your address.”
There was a long pause. Still not used to his new address, Lucas had to think before he could answer her. After a beat, he recited his phone number, as well.
“In case you have trouble finding the house,” he explained.
Nikki smiled to herself. She’d grown up in this city, watching it evolve from a two-traffic-light town to a thriving city of ninety-thousand-plus people. Because of her mother’s chosen profession, she was familiar with every residential development Bedford had to offer.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she promised. About to hang up, she stopped and put the receiver back to her ear. “Hang in there, Mr. Wingate. Heather’s going to be all right.”
There was a time when he would have balked at her thinking that he needed reassurance. But having to raise Heather on his own had changed all that. He needed help and he knew it. Pride wasn’t allowed to get in the way. There was far too much riding on this.
His voice was almost rigid as he said, “I know. It’s just that—”
He was afraid of losing the little girl, Nikki thought. She deliberately kept her voice calm, soothing. “You don’t have to say it, Mr. Wingate. I understand. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
She ended the call and crossed back to the living room. Dropping the portable telephone on the sofa, she hurried into her clothes. The phrase, “No rest for the weary” kept echoing over and over again in her head.
Truer words were never written, Nikki thought with a sigh. She kept a fully packed medical bag in the hall closet in case an emergency arose.
This, she thought as she quickly checked the contents to be sure she had what she needed, qualified as an emergency.
At least, she knew, it definitely did in Lucas Wingate’s eyes.
Chapter Four
While the developments within Bedford began to multiply, spreading out to both ends of the city and eating into what was once sprawling farmland, the size of the lots the houses stood on kept decreasing. Land was most definitely at a premium. This particular development, she recalled her mother telling her—whimsically dubbed Camelot by the developer—had yards that rivaled the size of the original developments, now some thirty-eight years old.
Big yards in Camelot translated to big price tags.
Obviously, Mr. Wingate was doing quite well for himself, Nikki mused as she pulled up in front of the two-story Tudor-styled house. Maybe she needn’t have been all that concerned about his ability to handle the kind of expense that a trip to the E.R. usually generated.
Still, volunteering to see Heather at his house was really the best way to go, she decided. Going to the E.R. with a wailing baby was only marginally easier than walking barefoot across a mile of broken glass. There was no way of knowing how many people would be waiting in the E.R. by the time Wingate arrived.
Sometimes, miraculously, a patient could be in and out in under an hour, but more than likely, several hours would have to pass before tests could be taken and a diagnosis arrived at. In the meantime, Heather would continue crying and Wingate would become more and more anxious about his daughter’s health.
This was definitely better.
As she walked up the blue-gray stone-paved path to the front door, she could hear the sound of a baby crying in heart-wrenching distress. The closer she came to the house, the louder the crying grew. By the time Nikki reached the door, it sounded as if Heather was right on the other side, wailing her little heart out.
Lucas was probably a basket case by now, Nikki guessed.
Shifting her medical bag to her other hand, Nikki rang the doorbell. The door immediately sprang open, as if it was wired to instantly respond to the sound of the door chimes.
Doctoring the Single Dad Page 4
