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It was on the tip of her tongue to argue with him. He wasn’t Matt. But she knew what he meant. Adults didn’t have the luxury of immersing themselves in their own emotional experiences—not if there were children in the mix. “Adulting sucks sometimes.” She smiled at him, relieved when he smiled in return.
“You can say that again,” he agreed. “Might sound wrong, but Jack’s the lucky one. He’ll never know what he lost or what he’s missing.”
She leaned forward, taking the little hand in hers. Graham was right. Jack’s leg would heal and whatever memories he had of Matt and Amber would be hazy at best. He was so young. That was some sort of blessing.
Nick, Honor, and Diana? They understood all too well. Their wounds would take years to heal. And the guilt she and Graham carried for wounding their children?
Would they ever recover from that?
Chapter Six
Graham stared at his phone. It wasn’t a familiar number, which immediately set off warning bells. Diana. Always Diana. She’d said she was volunteering at the library today—then waited for him to drill her with questions and details. Instead, he’d called the library on his way to work and confirmed she had signed up to volunteer. Not that volunteering ensured she’d stay out of trouble. He drew in a deep breath, paused in the hall outside the next exam room, and hit redial.
“Hello?” He nodded as one of the nurses walked past, escorting a very pregnant Mrs. Guajardo into exam room five.
“Hello?” He didn’t recognize the voice. “Graham? Graham Murphy?”
“Yes,” he snapped. “If you’re selling something, I’m not interested—”
“No.” A high, feminine laugh. “It’s Romi Takahashi.”
He blanked. Did he know a Romi Takahashi? No one sprang to mind. But the name was familiar.
“Miss Takahashi—from St. Thomas Catholic School. The assistant principal. But, please, call me Romi.”
The school Diana had been expelled from. “Yes.” Now he knew exactly who it was—he’d spent enough time in her office. But it didn’t clear up why she was calling him now. Diana was no longer enrolled there. And it was summertime. “How can I help you?”
That laugh again. “Don’t tell me Eileen Rainey didn’t call you?” She paused. “She gave me your number. Said something about you mentioning having coffee with me but…were too shy to call?”
No, she hadn’t told him. Because Widow Rainey knew good and well he’d never said anything about having coffee with Miss Takahashi or any other woman in Pecan Valley, and he would have told her so. Again. He closed his eyes and swallowed the litany of curses that rose up. “She did?”
“Yes.” An awkward silence ensued. “So, anyway, I’d love to have coffee. If you’re free?”
No, he wasn’t. “Coffee?” He was flattered but… “Now’s not a good time.”
“Well, not now now. Of course. I meant, sometime in the near future.” She paused. “I was really flattered you’d ask, after Diana and…well, you know.”
Technically, she was the one asking—but he didn’t point it out. He was still doing his best not to blow a gasket. It wasn’t Miss Takahashi’s fault. He didn’t know how the hell Widow Rainey gotten his number, but this was a problem. Widow Rainey was relentless and, clearly, she hadn’t listened to his objections. Not good. He’d never thought to guard his number. Considering his profession, most of his patients had it. He might have to rethink that practice going forward. “I’ll have to check my schedule and get back to you.”
“Sounds great, Graham. How’s Diana doing?”
“She’s fine.” He didn’t miss the nurse’s pointed look from the clock to the patient’s door. He understood. None of them wanted to work late. Again. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’m at work—”
“Oh, right, right. Some people have to do that job thing through the summer, too.” She laughed again. “I’ll let you get back to it. Looking forward to hearing from you soon.”
“Right. Bye.” He hung up and stood, staring at the exam room door. Clear head. Work mode. He took a slow, calming breath, grabbed the chart, and entered the exam room. “Good afternoon…” The name threw him for a loop. “Charity?” Charity Otto was the last person he’d expected to find in his office.
“Surprise,” she said, her cheeks a bright red.
He scanned over her paperwork. Charity Otto was pregnant. And alone—two things that didn’t add up. Where was Felicity? Or Mrs. Otto for that matter? “Yes.” He glanced at her, then back at the chart.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”
He smiled his professional smile, ignoring the list of questions he was mentally assembling. She was here as his patient. As such, the only questions he should ask were pertinent to her and her baby’s health.
“You can’t tell anyone, right?” she asked, fingers pleating her examination gown. “I know you and Filly are getting chummy, but I’m wanting to wait a while on my baby bombshell. I think the family is dealing with enough at the moment, don’t you?” It was a sincere question—as if she wanted his opinion.
“You’re my patient. Unless you give us permission to share information, all of this remains here.” He studied her, noting how uneasy she was. She looked young. And scared. “You’re almost three months along?” he asked. “You won’t be
