by Lyz Kelley
“Arrested?” McKenzie worked to adjust her mind to the conversation. “Arrested for what?”
“She was stealing drugs. The police took her to the station, and apparently Lisa confessed—said her mom’s sick, and she needed the extra cash from selling pilfered drugs to pay the medical bills. Leaving the cart was her way of redirecting suspicion.”
“Garrett was right, then.”
“Yep. And, that big ol’ red bulls-eye on his back got bigger. Lisa is trying to stir up trouble by blaming him for her arrest.”
McKenzie closed her eyes against a headache poised to pounce. “That’s insane. He was just doing his job. Is he okay? Does he need help? Please tell me this hasn’t hit the news. Dad will be furious.”
“Stop worrying. You’re fake fiancé is fine. And don’t look at me like that. I figured out what you two were up to weeks ago. Smart. Very smart. Although I don’t know why you don’t make it official. You two make a nice couple.”
Couple? No. But we do make a great team, don’t we? She calmed the rush of panic. “Is he on shift?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “When is he not working? The guy is a machine. I don’t think he ever stops. He’s doing his rounds.” Beth’s mouth slumped at the corners. “If only I had listened to the doctor and checked sooner.”
McKenzie wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “His intuition is more accurate than any of the realism paintings hanging at the museum.”
“Don’t you start. I’ve got enough guilt burning a hole in my gut.”
“Deal. Not another word.”
Beth pushed a curly brown fluff of hair behind her ear. “Why are you here?”
“We’ve got a bucketful of challenges with the charity ball committee, mom wanted me to ease the tensions. A member of the Juilliard String Quartet has fallen ill, so they are suggesting a mariachi band as a replacement. And they want to tie balloons to the chairs of the high auction bidders. We’re expecting six hundred people. This isn’t some birthday party for a six-year-old, complete with piñatas.”
“Thank goodness the Carver’s are in charge, or we’d never get any donations.”
“I don’t know about that. But I also want to check in on Ellie.” And find Garrett to make sure he’s okay. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, eager to be on her way.
Beth’s hand landing on her forearm gave her pause. “Speaking of Ellie. I have more news.” Her eyes lit with intrigue. “Did you hear the couple who were adopting Ellie backed out?”
“Why? She’s such a precious little girl. I was sure they would want her after seeing what a wonderful baby she is.”
“It’s all economics.” Beth’s tender gaze touched her. “As she grows, she’ll still need several more heart surgeries. Between doctor visits, medications, and her special needs, they can’t afford to pay the medical bills. Child Protective Services wants to place her in a good home with someone who can provide for her, and they’re having trouble finding a placement.”
Her pulse stalled, and then jumped high enough for a slam-dunk. A tentative excitement spread sending tingles up her back. Maybe she had a chance to give Ellie a good home.
She had tried to avoid caring about Ellie. But trying to avoid loving that sweet, pink bundle of joy became impossible. When those precious hazelnut eyes opened and looked at her, McKenzie’s heart filled with magic. A protective strength soothed her fears, and a small glimmer of hope, a feeling she dared not recognize before, had formed.
“My name is still listed on the state’s adoption registry. I’d be more than willing to adopt her.”
“I thought you might be interested.” Beth winked. “I’d better get back to the ward. I’ll stop by later.”
Lost in swirling thoughts, she didn’t realize Beth had disappeared around the corner until she started to say something to her friend who wasn’t there.
A child of her own. Maybe this was what fate had planned after all. She continued down the hall, greeting nurses and patients, her step lighter. The burden of her past less. She reached for the door of the special care unit, and then took a step back when the door swung open. She met Garrett’s leery, exhausted eyes. “I was hoping to find you here.”
She didn’t blame him for looking confused. She’d disappeared for several days, and he’d probably jumped to all sorts of false conclusions. She searched for words, something to connect them—a bridge—anything to fill the gap. Ellie’s adoption seemed too personal and would open a door she wasn’t ready to walk through. Not yet. She settled on the nurse. “I heard that nurse got fired. You were correct.”
He allowed the door behind him to close. “My instincts told me something wasn’t right. The nurse covered her tracks well,” he said with a formal stiffness that made her heart ache. “We shouldn’t be discussing this. The investigation’s just starting. I’m not sure who the investigation panel will question.”
She tapped her fingers on her thigh, working to find some way to breach a barrier that spanned the Brooklyn Bridge. She took a deep breath.
“I want to say I’m sorry for...” Not trusting you? Not letting you in? she thought, but neither could she admit. “We approach things differently, but that doesn’t mean your outcome is wrong. I haven’t always been fair in my opinions.”
His brows lifted. He placed his hands on his hips. “Questioning one’s integrity would piss anyone off.”
Touché. One thing she loved about the man was how he fought for what he believed. That was more than she could say for many people.
“And about the other day, I—“
“You already explained. You don’t want to think about the past. I get that. I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk.”
Dark, curly hair emerged from the V-neck of the doctor’s scrubs. She liked the tight pin curls. The urge to touch became rather compelling. “Do you have time for coffee or something?”
A familiar interest she cherished ignited in his eyes. “I have a few minutes.” He took a step closer. The fresh scent of fabric softener was a gentle reminder of how it felt to be in his arms. “You look beautiful. Something’s different, something in here.” He pointed to his temple before taking a step toward the cafeteria.
Wow. He noticed. Over the past few days, she’d outlined a plan in her journal. A plan to make changes, mental and physical, like turn negative thoughts into positive, practice meditative yoga, eat better. All the things she should do but hadn’t found the time or energy.
“I took your advice. I’m determined to crush negative thoughts that are holding me back.”
He reached his warm hand around hers, whether to give comfort or encouragement she didn’t know, but his touch felt beautiful. Healing.
“Now, that is something to celebrate. We should get coffee for me, tea for you, and one of those magic bars, you know, those cookies with coconut, walnuts, and dark chocolate chips? What do you say? Ready to go wild and crazy?”
“Slow down, Cookie Monster. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Nothing in my world will change overnight, but it’s a start.”
“That’s just it, Mac. Change always requires a starting point.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, walking side-by-side, matching step for step.
“Same goes for you, too. You said you would tell me about your sister. You don’t talk about your family much. Why is that?”
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed the little falter in his step. It helped that she wasn’t the only one with emotional baggage.
“I don’t know,” he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I have three sisters, all older. Angela’s the oldest, fourteen years my senior, and more like a mother than a sister. Cindy is the one you’re asking about, she’s eleven years older. Jina and I came along at the tail end. Jina’s only three years older. My mother lost twins in between Cindy and Jina.”
“Who’s the mother of your nephew?”
“Angela. His name is Tyler. She also has two d
aughters, Ashley and Sarah. Jina has three girls, Emily, Hanna, and Madison. Cindy is in the process of adopting. She lost her first son when he was three and her second was stillborn.” Garrett hesitated. His eyes grew distant. “Cindy’s had a tough go. She’ll be a great mom. She’s…well, never mind.”
What wasn’t he saying? There was more to his story, but she wouldn’t press. She hated when people dug in, pressed too hard.
“Not that I expect you to remember all their names.” He turned to her with a forced smile. “It’s a lot to remember. Where I come from families tend to be large.”
His soft, affectionate tone provided insight. He loved his family, especially Tyler, and she guessed he was very protective of all his family members. “I bet your dad and Tyler miss you, being one guy short.”
The instant sadness in his face made her squeeze his hand in much the same way as he’d reached for hers in comfort.
“My Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few months before I left California. He’s entering the phase where he doesn’t always recognize me. We talked about me staying home, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. My sisters have assured me he’s in good hands. Angela and I have agreed to look for a house with a parent suite included. Since her divorce, she doesn’t want to stay in the old neighborhood—too much crime.”
Just like that, life’s realities sneaked in a little reminder—wasted time meant missed opportunities.
She saw Garrett, not as a surgeon or administrator, but as a man with a family and responsibilities, doing the best he could in an imperfect world. Not because she hadn’t seen the funny, yet serious side of the man before, but now she saw the additional layers of the caring brother and dedicated uncle.
“Are you okay? I know there is a lot of pressure on you right now. Is there anything I can do besides sharing a magic bar with you?” she asked, hoping to lighten his heavy mood.
“If you would stop by and see Jacob, you’d have my gratitude. He asked about the bird lady this morning.”
“How is he?”
“Not good. His organs are shutting down.”
That sucks. Life could be so, so cruel. “Consider it done.”
There it was-the genuine smile that began with a curve and rolled up the face until it lit his eyes, like sunrise spreading across the sky.
Ten steps from the cafeteria his beeper sounded, and he pulled back his white lab coat to glance at the display. His shoulders dropped, and a sigh heaved from his lungs. “I’ve got to go.”
A large slice of disappointment heaped on her plate. “Yes, of course. Can I have a lunch packed for you?”
“I’ll pick up something later.” He took a step, and then hesitated. “I forgot to say thanks for seeing to Ellie this past week.” He squeezed her arm. “You have made a difference in her health. She’s healing well.”
He’d checked the log. He knew she’d been at the hospital. He knew she had been avoiding him, and still he offered her kindness. The raw honesty of his sentiment landed on her cheek like a warm lover’s kiss. She forced herself to swallow and accept the gift, whatever the intent.
“It’s good to see you, Mac.” His sincerity eased the guilt away. “One of these days we’ll get a coffee, maybe get a quiet moment together, or have an uninterrupted conversation.” He paused, his mouth dropped open, almost if he wanted to say something else, but then his lips slowly closed again. “Better run. A child calls,” he said before turning and trotting down the hall, his white coat billowing behind like a Superman cape. Her hero.
Time in his arms brought back scrumptious memories.
Liam had a point about wanting more. She wanted the Modern Family life. Even as messy and complicated and troublesome as it could be.
Although, as difficult as relationships could be, Doctor Garrett Branston somehow simplified things.
Chapter 14
Garrett looked out of the hospital window. The angry storm cloud and the room’s empty silence fit his mood. He tightened a hand around Jacob’s signed baseball—the one the little boy would never hold again.
He replayed the boy’s surgery and the days of critical care frame by frame by frame in his head. Not one cut or suture or medication would he have changed. The medical practice suspension notice weighted his pocket like a two-ton boulder, crushing his confidence.
“There you are. I’ve been searching for you everywhere.” McKenzie’s frantic tone made the ache worse.
The air stilled, and he turned. Her beauty brought color to his dark gray thoughts.
“I heard you were suspended. What happened?” she asked.
He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw, fisting his hand. “Shit happens, that’s what.” He walked around her toward the door, grabbing his backpack along the way.
“Garrett?” Her hands wrapped around his forearm, stopping his forward momentum.
“I need to go.” Tired and deflated, like a week-old birthday balloon, he attempted to move away.
“Let me take you home.”
He shook his head. “Please don’t fuss.”
“And you call me stubborn.”
“I want to walk in the park. That means taking the train, and you don’t like trains or crowds or being in public.”
She held his eyes for a moment. “I would like to be with you.”
The determination on her face meant he wouldn’t deflect her from her mission, whatever it was, so he might as well give in rather than exert energy he didn’t have. He shrugged and moved into the hall toward the elevators, his feet dragging like his nephew’s when being directed toward the kindergarten teacher on the first day of school.
With a quick slice of a scalpel his whole career had been tossed in the trash.
“Can you tell me what happened?” she asked before they stepped onto the elevator.
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” He rubbed the top of his short, spiked hair with both hands, and then dropped them to his sides. “Someone’s filed an internal complaint claiming I mishandled Jacob’s heart surgery and care. They are placing me on leave pending an investigation.”
“That’s insane.” She put her hand over his and squeezed. “Jacob’s death is not your fault. The review will prove there was no negligence. Beth thinks this may be in retaliation for the drug bust.”
“I don’t know.” He followed her off the elevator and moved toward the hospital exit. “Dr. Cowell said to take a few days. He’s transferred my casework, so I have no choice.” He rubbed the throbbing ache in his temples. “The fact remains, a little boy is dead. And I couldn’t save him.”
“If you hadn’t operated, what were his chances?”
“That’s not the point, now is it?”
“It is the point. You had to operate. You had no choice. And you did what you could. I believe in your abilities. I won’t tell you that little boy is in a better place, or some other stupid thing ignorant people say. What I will say is the investigation will prove you did everything right.”
He entered the hospital’s rotating entrance doors with her close on his heels. He waited for her to join him on the other side. “There are always politics involved in things like this. I did nothing wrong, but I’m new here, so it could go either way.”
“I’m sorry. I understand you feel these losses deeply.” She walked beside him and allowed him time to chew on her words. She reached for his hand. Her small, delicate fingers provided a strong, compassionate anchor. His career might drift away, but at least he had a tether. A tether to what, he didn’t know. The hospital was his life. His single focus. If he lost his ability to practice—then what?
The subway station entrance loomed across the street. He contemplated McKenzie’s last reaction to public transportation. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, not convinced she was ready to battle her fears again. And a little worried he might not be ready to help rescue her from the demons that might show themselves.
That lovely, determined chin of hers lifted. “I’ll be okay. So w
ill you.”
He grabbed her arm and raced across the busy intersection and into the subway station. He slid a pre-paid metro card through the terminal and then handed her his spare card so she could follow him through the turnstile and to the blue line. A few quick stops and they were walking toward Central Park.
While he returned the Metro cards to his backpack, a tattered book fell to the pavement. New Yorkers in a hurry didn’t bother to stop. A pair of sneakers, and then boots, and then loafers, kicked the novel forward. McKenzie rushed to sweep the novel into her hand. She rotated the paperback book to read the title. “The Hobbit. This is one of my favorites. Do you like Tolkien?”
“I do. Tyler has a book report due. I can’t remember if I told you that my nephew is dyslexic. We’re reading the book together over the phone. I read ahead so I can ask him questions. It gives us something to talk about. He’s not much into conversations these days.”
“It must be hard being so far away. When do you get to see him next?”
He touched her as he retrieved the book and placed it in the bag. Time hiccupped. Her look. His reaction. The sensation felt odd, yet perfect. Heat eliminated the loneliness he’d ignored for days—no weeks, maybe years.
When she gave him a nudge, he realized she was waiting for a reply.
“Tyler. Right. I was thinking I’d go home for Christmas. I miss watching him play ball. I miss his laugh. We used to play video games every Sunday afternoon.”
“If you like kids so much, why aren’t you married with children of your own?”
He shook his head. “While I was growing up, my dad worked a lot of hours and was never home. I swore I’d never do that to a kid.” His eyes took on a faraway glaze. “I’m married to the hospital. When she calls, I must respond.”
“You always talk as if the hospital’s a person.”
“She is. She protects those within her care, nurtures them, helps them. She’s demanding. She requires a lot of those who enter her doors. Their time. Their energy. There’s not much left of a person at the end of a shift. To be a good doctor, I have to obey when there’s a need. That obedience often comes at a price.”
