I growled under my breath. Being pessimistic wasn’t going to do anything to help Mrs. Dulinkski. Emma had taught me that. It seemed that no matter how much I tried to avoid being sucked into her less-traditional methods, she was rubbing off on me. That idea made me even grumpier, particularly as I remembered how she used to tease me about being the brooding, somber vibe in our wing.
The fact was that as much as I hated to admit it, I missed Emma’s presence at the hospital. For all of our heated arguments and disagreements, I valued her input and her incessant research into new ways to help our patients. She kept me on my toes; she made me a better doctor.
Not that I’d ever tell her that, of course. Not in a hundred years. She’d never let me hear the end of it.
I sank down into my office chair and rubbed my forehead. It would take a while for Mrs. Dulinkski to be moved up to her room—that was just the way the red-tape and bureaucracy worked. Once she was settled, it would take us some time to figure out just what was going on with her and how to treat the issue.
All of this meant that I was probably in for a late night. Sighing, I picked up the phone and swiped the screen to my contracts, tapping one near the top of the list. And when my grandmother answered, I felt a little bit of my tension ease.
“Hey, Gram. How’re you doing?”
“I’m all right, honey. I’m just working on that genealogy project. My cousin from New York sent me some old papers and photos, and we’re going to video chat a little later to try and figure out who is who.” I heard the sound of papers rustling in the background. “How’re things with you?”
“Eh, not bad, but I think I’m going to miss dinner tonight. One of my patients was just admitted with junky lungs and a temp. I have a feeling it’s going to be a late one. I’m sorry for the late notice.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Deacon. If I’m not used to a doctor’s unpredictable hours by now, I should be. I’ll make you up a plate, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Or I can drop it off if that’s easier.” She paused a moment. “I’m sorry about your patient. Not anyone I know, is it?”
One side of my mouth quirked upward. HIPPA laws were challenging at best, but in a small town, they could be downright difficult. Gram tried to remember that I couldn’t violate patient confidentiality, but her stance was that it never hurt to ask.
In this case, however, I could respond honestly. “No, you don’t know her. She’s from Lakeland. I hope whatever is going on, we caught it in time, but you know how it is. Cancer is a tricky bitch.”
“True.” Gram never dinged me for language when it came to work. Heck, she didn’t give me trouble about swearing most of the time. But she understood that fighting this disease was frustrating even as beating it could be exhilarating. “Well, do what you can, sweetie. That’s all anyone can ask of you. Remember, you’re not God. You might be a gifted doctor, but at the end of the day, you’re a man.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Gram.” Nothing like a pep talk from the president of my fan club to give me a boost. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know if I can make it out to the farm. Give Pop my love.”
“I will, son. Good luck tonight. Talk to you later.”
Ending the call, I tackled some paperwork and other administrative tasks before Jenny alerted me that Mrs. Dulinkski was in her room. I finished what I was doing before I stood up and began to make my way to the suite.
Time to go fight a new battle.
2
Emma
“I always forget how beautiful the sunsets are here.” I sighed a little and wriggled down in my Adirondack chair, bunching the cushion behind me to get more comfortable. “Or maybe more accurately, I think I remember how amazing they are, and then I come back and realize my imagination doesn’t do them justice.”
“This is an especially pretty one,” my mother, sitting in the chair next to mine, agreed. “But I’m fairly sure they have sunsets in Florida, too.”
“True, but not over the mountains,” I countered. “Florida is flat.”
“I’ll give you that.” She paused. “But the day we were at the beach on the Gulf last year was pretty damn amazing, if I remember correctly.”
“It was. I’m not arguing with you. I guess there’s just something about this place, though, that holds so many fun memories . . . it feels like everything here is better than anywhere else.” I drew up my feet to tuck them under me, hugging my knees to my chest. “I was thinking the other day about what Nana used to say—that everything on the mountain is slower, except time when you’re only here on vacation.”
“Ah. You’re already thinking about your two weeks off ending, are you?”
I nodded. “It feels like I just got here.”
“I know. It seems the same way to me, too.” My mother reached across the small space between us and squeezed my hand. “But you love your job, and your home, and your life down there, don’t you? At least, it sounds as though you do.”
“Yes. I miss my cabin and my land . . . and the hospital.” I wrinkled my nose. “Idon’tlook forward to dealing with other . . . stuff . . . when I go back.”
“Hmmmm. I’m thinking that other stuff has to do with a certain man.”
My mind immediately flashed to Deacon, but I pushed that image aside, ignoring it. Mom wasn’t talking about my colleague at St. Agnes, because I didn’t talk about him much. She was referring instead to Noah Spencer.
“Noah’s a big part of it,” I admitted. “Things were kind of tense between us when I left Florida. He wanted to drive me to the airport, and I wouldn’t let him. He was hurt, I think. But I’m so glad I did that, because if I had to face seeing him again when I get off the plane in Florida this weekend, I’d be miserable. But then the fact that I don’t want to see him right away—the fact that I don’t miss him terribly—that makes me feel even worse. This is the first time since I’ve known Noah that anything’s come between us, ever. I hate that our friendship is so uncomfortable now.”
