by Kelsie Rae
“Mama and baby are as healthy as can be,” I explain to put her at ease.
“And the vocal cords?”
I laugh. “Perfect condition.”
“Phew.” After rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead dramatically, she steps aside and invites me into her house. “Come on. I wrapped up your plate and put it in the fridge.”
“Thanks.” I follow her down the hall to the kitchen before noticing something different in her usual house of chaos. When I realize what it is, I scan the premises in confusion.
“Why haven’t I been tackled by three small monsters?”
“Ron finally signed us up for Disney+. It’s the most peace and quiet I’ve had in…six years?”
“You mean since I first helped you deliver Jonathan?” I joke.
“Yup. It’s been a long six years, my friend. A looong six years.”
I snort. “Uh, huh.”
Krista rummages through her fridge, then pulls out a plate with plastic wrap covering the surface. I intercept it before she can protest. “I can heat up my own food. Thanks for making it, though.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad you could still come even though your schedule has been insane lately. How many babies have you delivered, exactly?” She plops down onto a barstool tucked beneath her gray kitchen island, resting her chin on her hands as she waits for me to give her all the gory details.
With a shrug, I put the plate in the microwave, then set the timer. “Lost count. But they’ve all been relatively simple births with only a few minor complications, so I’m going to call it a win.”
“Well, I’m happy for ya. Speaking of your life….”
Her voice trails off, and I groan. “Don’t, Krista.”
“Come on. You gotta tell me, Ben.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“She was cute––”
“She was no one.”
“She didn’t seem like no one.”
My frustration finally boils over. “Look, nothing is going on between me and Marcy, okay?”
“And why is that?” Krista prods, her usual light and bubbly personality absent. The girl has known me since our freshman year in high school. She can read me like an open book.
“I dunno,” I hedge. “I’ve just been busy.”
“So?”
“What do you mean, so?” The challenge is clear in my voice.
“You’ve been busy. So what? Do you think that when you start dating a person, they need a babysitter or something when you’re not around?” She laughs. “Pretty sure you can still see a person even if you have to disappear every once in a while to deliver a few babies.”
Rubbing my palm across my face, I lean my ass against the counter behind me and sigh. “Maybe I don’t want to see anyone.”
The microwave dings, and I pull out the hot plate, burning my finger as soon as it comes into contact with the molten gravy.
“And why is that, Ben?” she asks, ignoring my discomfort as I suck my finger into my mouth.
“We’ve already had this conversation––”
“And I want to have it again. You deserve to be happy, Ben. You deserve––”
“I don’t deserve shit, okay?” I snap. “Because if I did get what I deserved, Kate would still be alive.”
“I’d give anything to bring Kate back,” Krista whispers. Her voice cracks as her sister’s name slips through her lips. Sometimes, I forget how close they were. That Krista broke like I did when she received the phone call from Grant Malone, who had to tell her the bad news. But she didn’t stay broken. She put in the effort to pick up the pieces while I felt too guilty that if I did the same thing, I’d be moving on without the love of my life. And that burns worse than any microwave mishap ever could.
Wiping away the moisture beneath her eyes, Krista continues, “But she’s gone, Ben. You know this better than anyone. And even if you’re not willing to date anyone, or open up your heart to someone in a romantic way, you need to open yourself up for something. Even if it’s a platonic relationship or a damn dog. You need friends. You need human connections.”
“You said dog.”
“I take back the animal suggestion. You’d wind up with twenty of them, and then we’d never be able to find you a new spouse.”
“Well, what about you and Ron?” I ask in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re my friends, right?”
“We’re family. We don’t count,” she huffs, folding her arms. “I know that it was always you and Kate, okay? Even in high school, you were each other’s best friends, so you didn’t need to have anyone else. And that was great. Seriously. I wasn’t the only one who would watch you two together while praying I’d be lucky enough to find something similar. Then she died, and you didn’t just lose your wife, you lost your other half. Your partner in crime. Your everything.”
“We’ve had this conversation too,” I point out. The burn on my finger grounds me as I press against it to elevate the sting. Anything to distract me from the loss of Kate.
My other half.
My partner in crime.
My everything.
“And yet, you still haven’t listened to a single word,” Krista murmurs.
Ignoring her––and proving her point perfectly––I reach for a fork from her utensil drawer then dive into the roast beef and mashed potatoes dinner. Unfortunately, it turns to sawdust as soon as it touches my tongue.
“Ya know, if you’d actually take my advice once in a while, I might stop bringing it up every time I see you,” Krista reminds me.
Through my mouthful of food, I mumble, “This could use a little salt.”
“Meh. You’re salty enough as it is. I’m gonna go turn off Disney+. Enjoy your next three minutes of freedom before I let the monsters loose.”
“I’ll synchronize our watches,” I quip before taking another bite of mashed potatoes. They’re pretty good and are seasoned pretty damn perfectly too. Just like how Kate used to make them.
Swallowing, I set my fork down.
Suddenly, I’m not that hungry anymore.
12
Ben
The silence is comfortable as I go to take a bite of my lunch before Tracey’s voice breaks it. “Have you spoken with Marcy yet?”
“Not yet,” I mutter before taking a bite of my turkey sandwich.
“I’m telling you, she’d be perfect for the job. I’ve seen her work, Dr. Bennett. The girl is talented.”
“I’m sure she is, and I’ll talk with her later today at her appointment, okay?”
“She’s in room four right now.”
“What? I thought I had a few––” I bite my tongue and rephrase my comment. “I thought she wasn’t going to be here until four or so.”
“Nope. Must’ve had a conflict or something because her appointment was moved up. Make sure to mention my idea too. About the doctors with shirts off instead of little babies. I know they’re cute and all, but did you see the calendar she put together for the firefighters?” She fans herself.
“You really think you could convince the other doctors in this office to take off their shirts for the camera?”
“Nobody wants to see the other doctors with their shirts off. Well, maybe Dr. Delancy, but other than that, not so much. You, however….” Her voice trails off as she bounces her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “I know plenty of patients who would kill to see what you look like beneath those scrubs.”
I swear. This woman is going to be the death of me. We’ve been working together for years, and I’d like to pretend that she’s only this pushy with me, but I’d be lying. The girl is hell on wheels no matter who she’s talking to.
“Careful, Tracey. I might have to call HR in here if you keep this up,” I joke.
“Whatever. You know I love you. By the way, chew fast. Marcy’s all checked in and looked anxious to get out of here. Better not keep her waiting.”
“Be right there,” I mutter through a mouthful of
food. Tracey’s name echoes down the hall from the receptionist’s desk, and she replies, “I’m coming!” Then she disappears, and I’m left staring at my turkey sandwich on wheat.
My nerves have been buzzing all day as I’ve watched the minutes tick by. Each and every one of them bringing me a little closer to facing Marcy again. And I’ve never been more anxious in my life. I was such an ass, but it’s not her. It’s me.
Actually…maybe it is her.
Because I’ve never struggled to keep my distance from a woman before she walked into my life. Not since Kate, anyway. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ve never had a problem keeping my emotions in check. I’ve never been so distracted, either. And after how I left things, how I kind of blew her off…I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know if I should be running toward the exam room or away from it. I feel lost. But it looks like it’s about time to rip off the Band-Aid whether or not I’m ready.
Tossing my half-eaten sandwich in the trash, I rub the palm of my hand over my face then wash them for thirty seconds in the sink before heading to room four.
I tap my knuckles against the solid door.
“Come in,” a voice calls from the other side.
Twisting the handle, I greet Marcy. “Hey.”
Her smile looks forced as she peers over at me from the exam table. “Hello, Dr. Bennett.”
Dr. Bennett.
“Good to see you again,” I tell her, ignoring the passive-aggressive comment. “How have you been feeling?”
“Fine. I think I’m over the whole morning sickness thing, so that’s good.”
“That’s very good. How have you been sleeping?”
The question is innocent enough. In fact, I ask it of all of my patients and have never thought much of it. But she’s different. She has trouble sleeping. Like me.
Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze drops down to her lap. “Fine, I guess.”
She’s lying.
“You sure? If you’re not sleeping well––”
“I’m fine. I’ve never been a great sleeper, so why start now, right?” Her laugh is just as forced as her smile.
“You can talk to me,” I press.
Her cocked brow is a challenge in itself. “You sure about that?”
Sighing, I take a seat on the rolling chair across from her. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry––”
“That’s bullshit. I have every reason to be sorry––”
“You really don’t. I’m fine. I promise. If anything, I think I owe you an apology. First, and most importantly,” she takes a deep breath, “I was just looking for sex and maybe a little friendship or something. Things got weird at your house, and that’s on both of us, but I’m not holding a grudge, and I sure as hell am not going to pull some lover scorned bullshit at my doctor’s appointment. As for my salty attitude, I had a big photo shoot fall through and was kind of planning on that money to buy a new lens for my camera. I guess I’m pouting and am taking it out on you, which is not fair, but I think I’m going to play the pregnancy card, so you have to forgive me.”
My chest rumbles with a dry laugh as soon as she’s finished with her little monologue. Her honesty is refreshing. And by some miracle, it lifts the weight of guilt I’d been carrying around since her picture message showed up on my phone through the B&B app.
“You’re not mad at me?” I probe.
“Nope. And I really don’t want things to be weird between us.”
“Neither do I. I like you, Marcy. I think you’re an incredible woman––”
“I’m gonna stop you right there because we both know you were going to follow it up with a but, and I’m not in the mood to hear it.”
I flinch back a few inches and tug the collar on my green scrubs. “Alright, then. How about I offer you a job that’ll help cover that lens you’re wanting?”
With a narrowed gaze, she watches me closely before asking, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. The fire department is still raving over their success because of the calendars. Would you be willing to do something similar for the hospital?”
“Ben….” I can see the hesitation in her eyes.
“It’s not out of pity and has absolutely nothing to do with whatever happened between us. I promise. Tracey’s the one who suggested it in the first place, but I agree with her.”
Staying silent, Marcy chews on the inside of her cheek before clarifying, “You want to hire me to take pictures for a calendar?”
“Is that a problem?”
She purses her lips, but I think it’s to prevent her excitement from bubbling out of her more than anything else.
“What kind of calendar?” she asks. The paper crinkles as she leans forward with curiosity.
“I was thinking it might be fun to do a collection of the babies the hospital has delivered over the past year or so, but I’m definitely open to suggestions.”
Eyes brightening, she gushes, “I think the baby angle would be perfect.”
“You think? Good.” I hesitate before slumping a few inches lower and adding, “Tracey would kill me if I didn’t bring her suggestion to the table too, so here it goes….”
I’m gonna kill Tracey for this.
“She thinks we should follow the firefighter’s layout and have a bunch of the doctors take their shirts off.”
Snorting, Marcy covers her face and shakes her head as if to dispel the imagery. “Sorry,” she apologizes through a bout of laughter. “I’m just picturing the old guy I passed in the hall. He had to have been at least eighty.”
“That’s Dr. Jeffers, and he’s seventy-two.”
“Why hasn’t he retired?”
“He tried, but his wife couldn’t handle having him at home all day, every day,” I reveal in a conspiratorial whisper.
She laughs even harder. “Oh my gosh, that’s absolutely priceless! Tell Tracey that I’m all for her idea, but only if we can put Dr. Jeffers on the cover.”
“No deal. Dr. Jeffers would kill me.”
“It’d be worth it, just to see everyone’s faces.”
“Har, har.” I roll my eyes.
As her amusement wears off, her smile softens, and I’m given a glimpse of the girl I’d had the chance to cook dinner for all those nights ago. My chest tightens when I realize that one day, she’ll find someone else to cook her dinner. And I’ll be left alone, on my own, with only the memory of my wife to keep me warm at night. A small part of me wonders if it’ll be worth it.
“So…about those babies,” she says, breaking the silence. “We’d need to have their parents sign some waivers allowing them to be photographed. And we should probably schedule a time that works for you where we can go over the logistics and everything. Are you heading this project up or…?”
“I’m the president of the board, so, yes. I can make the executive decisions for this.”
“Perfect. Is there a time you’d like to get together to discuss all the details?”
She’s cute when she’s talking about photography. Her eyes are shining, and her cheeks are flushed with anticipation. She looks good enough to eat. Clearing my throat, I shake off the inappropriate thoughts and answer, “Sure. How does lunch sound?”
“Sounds great. Is there a day that works for you?”
“How about Saturday?”
“I think I can squeeze you in,” she teases. “Do you want to come to my house, and I can pull up some photo shoots I’ve done in the past so we can narrow down a look or a theme that you want to go with?”
“Yeah? I mean, whatever you would recommend?”
“I think you should definitely come over and check out all of the options before deciding what you want. That way, we can be on the same page, and I can make sure you get exactly what you’re looking for. I’ll make sure to give you my address before I leave.”
Make sure I get exactly what I’m looking for.
If only I knew.
&nb
sp; I want to laugh, but keep myself in check. “No need. It's in your chart.”
“Oh. Good point.”
“Thanks again for helping with this.”
She smiles, and it damn near lights up the whole office. “Thanks, again, for hiring me. Now, I can afford that lens I’ve been drooling over.”
With the elephant in the room already discussed and the promise of lunch on Saturday, the rest of the appointment goes by in a flash. And I’m left feeling lighter––and happier––than I’ve been in a long time.
I just can’t decide if I’m okay with that or not.
13
Marcy
The doorbell rings.
And my heart stops.
Licking my lips, I brush my hair away from my face, then open the door.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” Ben returns with his hands in his front pockets.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“Thanks to Google Maps, I didn’t have any issues.”
There’s a teasing smirk on his face that tells me he’s feeling the same strange sense of déjà vu as I am.
I just can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.
Opening the door a little wider, I invite him inside. “Good ol’ Google. Come on in.”
“You have a nice place,” he notes, casually scanning the small front room. The house is a little older and doesn’t have quite the same open feel as newer homes, but it has character in every piece of original hardwood flooring that more than pays for the tight hallways.
“Thanks. It’s not a mansion in the woods, but I’ll take it.”
“Har, har,” he replies with a smile. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything––”
“You mean like a bag of rolls?”
He snorts. “Exactly. I should’ve brought a bag of rolls.”
“It’s a newbie mistake, so I’ll let it slide this once.”
“How considerate of you.”
“Mmmhmm. Don’t get used to it, though. I was thinking that if we get hungry, we can just order some takeout or something. My computer is in my office. I can show you a few different options for the photo shoot back there. Follow me.”
