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“Good morning, Or
lando!” Miss Tracy greets us when we reach the door to his classroom. There’s a half-wall around the play area with cubbies outside.
“Hi,” Orlando whispers.
“I’m so happy to see you. Put your backpack in the cubby and then come inside to wash your hands,” she says. “Hi, Mom,” she greets me with a wink, and then Miss Tracy turns back to the other kids who have already arrived.
Together, Orlando and I get his jacket and backpack in his cubby, and then he hugs me goodbye. He goes into the classroom and I close the little half-door behind him. I stand by the cubbies until I’m sure I’m being a total weirdo.
“He’ll be fine,” Miss Tracy mouths to me, catching my eye. She waves to me and walks Orlando over to the sinks so he can wash his hands. Finally, I turn to leave. I manage to make it all the way to my car before I burst into tears.
Am I doing the right thing here?
Am I being a good mom?
For the last few years, Orlando has either come to work with me or Betty has babysat him for me. She’s been a total lifesaver, which is strange because she and Cage were never particularly close, if I remember correctly. If anything, there was always a sort of disassociation between them, but I never felt comfortable asking her why they didn’t get along.
I did, however, ask her if she knew why he left, and she made it clear that was a topic we would never be close enough to discuss.
Now she’s gone and it’s up to me to figure out a way to make things work. I have Orlando and I have Cage’s memory – not that I always want it. I’ve got the lessons that Betty taught me, and I have all of the hope she instilled in me. It’s just that sometimes, things still feel...well, impossible.
Wiping my tears away, I take a deep breath.
“You can do this.”
Sometimes, I need to give myself pep talks. Doesn’t everyone do that? Or is it just me being a crazy lady? Shaking my head, I pull out of the parking lot and head to work. My office is located in downtown Storm Haven. Once upon a time, I thought I’d move away and go live in a big city with lots of shimmering lights and huge, looming buildings. As it turned out, however, having a kid made me decide to raise him close to our families.
It’s not a letdown, though. I work in an incredible office full of interesting people who are always teaching me new things. That’s one of the best things about working in a physician’s office: there’s never a shortage of new people to talk to. It’s hard to get bored when you’re always busy, anyway.
Parking in back, I head into the little mountainside clinic.
“Good morning, Alicia,” Heather calls out.
“Morning,” I say back. I head to the break room, drop off my jacket and purse, and pocket my cell phone. I’m wearing dress pants and a blouse, but I made sure to invest in a pair of pants that has big, hefty pockets. Even if I don’t always have my cell phone on me, chances are I need the pockets for other stuff: keys, maybe, or my kid’s toys.
When I get to the front desk, Heather is waiting for me with a list of charts and notes about our day. Heather is the office manager, and she does a great job. She’s basically in charge of making sure that everything runs smoothly in the office. She helps the doctors, nurses, and medical techs, as well as people like me.
I’m the receptionist.
I’m in charge of patient scheduling and handling questions that people have about their health. I also help with handling insurance and payments. My job keeps me busy, but I like it, and I feel lucky to have landed it when I did.
Generally speaking, the clinic likes to hire people who have strong medical backgrounds. I don’t really have that. At least, I didn’t when I started, but the truth is that Betty had quite a say in how things happened around town, and when she found out I was pregnant with her grandson, the first thing she did was help me get a real job.
I start looking over Heather’s notes for the day. It’s going to be a fairy quiet morning with only a few appointments, so I’m a little surprised when the bell over the front door jingles and someone walks in. Maybe they’re here to see if they can do a walk-in appointment.
Only, I glance up to see Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerously Sexy.
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devastatingly Handsome.
This guy is wearing tight jeans and a long-sleeved blue button down that’s hugging his body in all the right ways. Licking my lips, I open my mouth to ask if I can help him, but he pulls his shades off at the exact same time.
And my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
It’s him.
It’s fucking him.
Even though his body is different, and he somehow seems taller now, it’s him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere: after all, they mirror the ones I look into every day when I hug my son good morning.
