Summer on Lovers' Island (10 page)

“That's right. Too bad the settlement doesn't make me feel any better about my mistake.” Just talking about it made her sick to her stomach.

“What happened?”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth as she recalled that day for what seemed the millionth time. “Group B strep. During a normal pregnancy, the screening would have already been done. But they'd been in an accident and the baby was coming early and fast. I never even thought about a test—mom was bleeding a lot from her injuries and the baby was crowning.” That one day seemed to change everything Lizzie believed about herself as a doctor.

She'd been up all night on shift, and she'd been dog tired. She'd been solely focused on triaging and treating and packing mom and baby off to the proper departments.

She'd peeled off her gloves and scrubs and called it a day. But the mom had insisted something wasn't right and Lizzie had blown her off as distressed by her injuries and the chaotic events leading to the delivery. She and the baby had been moved to the neonatal ward and Lizzie had gone home, never giving them a second thought.

“The baby got sick.” It was a statement, rather than a question. He knew all this already, didn't he? But he was asking for her side … and she found herself sharing it even though talking about it was the one thing she
hadn't
done in weeks.

“And I missed it. Two days later the baby contracted pneumonia and it was too late. All because I was in a rush and I was tired and I wasn't thorough.”

Her throat tightened. It hadn't been her job to tell the father and mother that their baby was dead. She was just the ER physician who happened to be on duty that first morning. But she'd seen the couple leaving the hospital. She'd never forget it. The mother, her belly still soft from pregnancy, weeping quietly, and the father with red-rimmed eyes, holding his wife as they walked to the exit without their newborn son.

“I'm sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” She knew her voice had hardened, but she couldn't help it. It had been months now and she still couldn't escape the guilt. “I get that we all make mistakes. I've made mistakes, but none this disastrous, and I've always known in my heart that I did all I could. Every other time, I've been there in the room making all the calls. But this time I was tired, distracted, and careless. That's what I can't seem to move past.”

“Your boss said you are the finest ER doctor he's ever seen and that he hates that this has happened to you.”

Ian had said that? For a flash she was pleased and flattered at the praise. But it was quickly erased as she recalled seeing his too-handsome face the day he'd called her into his office. There'd been pity, but there'd been distance, too. Ian had to cover his butt. Besides, civil suits happened all the time. Her leave of absence was far more a reflection of his opinion of her abilities rather than on the case itself.

“He only said that because we were in a relationship until the end of April.”

That must have surprised him, because Josh didn't say anything for a few minutes. Instead he lay back on the bed of the truck and stared up at the stars. “Well,” he drawled, “that does complicate things a little, doesn't it?”

“It's definitely a mistake I won't repeat,” she said acidly. “I should've known better than to get involved with the boss.”

Josh chuckled. “I guess that tells me where I stand, doesn't it?”

Once more her cheeks heated. She looked down at him and couldn't help but admire his flat stomach, the curve of his muscles in his T-shirt as he put his arms behind his head. “You're joking, right?” She sincerely hoped so. It would really suck if things got awkward on the job a mere week after she started.

“Yes, I'm joking. I'm not looking, Lizzie. Though my family thinks I should be.”

“Hence the Summer what's-her-name comments.”

“Exactly.” He sighed. “When the time is right, I'll know. Maybe it'll never be right. For now I like running the practice, hanging with my family, going out on the water in my new boat. Keeping it simple.”

Keeping it simple sounded wonderful, actually. And there was no reason why she shouldn't treat this summer like a lovely seaside vacation in a rented cottage. So what if she had to work a few days each week? It kept her from being bored. And how many people could say they were spending the summer only footsteps from the beach, anyway?

Encouraged, she flopped down beside him and looked up at the stars. “Gosh, does this mean we're becoming friends?”

She wasn't looking at him, but she got the sense he smiled. “Maybe. Maybe I just wanted you to be a little more comfortable around here, so things aren't so tense at the office, you know?”

She stared at the stars. “Have I been uptight?”

“A little. Listen, I have no complaints about your work, other than you can relax a little. Time moves a bit slower around here. Stop and smell the roses.” He paused. “Or look at the stars.”

She did, for the space of ten long breaths. The weird thing was that neither of them said anything and she didn't find the silence awkward, either.

A falling star streaked across the sky, leaving a whispery trail behind it. “Whoa, did you see that?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, I did.” She searched the sky for more. “Where my condo is, there's too much light pollution to really see the stars much. This is cool.”

“When I was deployed, I used to love looking at the stars. It kind of linked me to back home, you know? Because I'd look up into the darkness and know that back here, the people I loved could see the stars, too. It doesn't make much sense, with time and hemisphere differences, but there you go.”

She imagined him doing that and once more realized that there was far more to Josh than met the eye. “Josh?”

“Hmmm?”

“When I'm nervous or unsure I tend to get … officious. That morning when I first arrived, and I thought you were the janitor? I was embarrassed. I know sometimes people think I'm stuck-up. I'm really not.”

Josh turned his head and looked at her. “A few weeks here has started to thaw you out,” he replied, and it was hard to tell in the darkness, but she thought he winked at her. “I'm glad you're here, Lizzie. Now, are you ready to go home?”

“I think so.” She sat up, pulled her knees into her chest. “This was really nice, though. Maybe I
have
been wound a little too tight.”

“Ya think?” he joked, hopping down from the tailgate. He extended his hand to help her, but she sent him a grin instead and jumped down herself.

They were soon back in the truck, slowly descending the hill. Lizzie looked closer at Abby's house and shook her head. “Wow, that really is a showpiece, isn't it?”

“Yup. Years ago, her great-aunt Marian ran a home for unwed mothers there. She left it to Abby when she died, but it needed a lot of work. Last year, we had our Fourth of July celebrations there, a real garden party with servants in period dress and everything.”

“She seems nice.”

“She is.”

Lizzie looked over, and a shadow had come over Josh's face. “Hmm. Bit of a story there?”

He perked up. “A long story, and a fairly convoluted one. The most important thing is that she and Tom are really happy. “

And Josh wasn't. He didn't have to say the words for her to know. This whole side trip tonight hadn't just been for her, she realized. He'd needed the space, too. Josh was more complicated than she had originally thought. Maybe it was the death of his wife. That had to be a terrible thing to try to get over, but she wasn't going to ask him. That would be prying into something incredibly personal. Even if they were becoming friends, they'd bared enough of their souls for one night.

She could still barely believe that she'd told him about the baby … but then, he'd already known, hadn't he?

He turned back onto the main road, and it was only a few minutes and they were at her cottage. It was dark inside and out, as she'd never thought to turn on the outside light before she left this morning. For a quick moment she considered asking him in for a drink, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea and they'd already spent a fair bit of time together tonight. “Thanks for the lift,” she said, injecting her voice with false enthusiasm.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaving the truck running. “I'll see you at work.”

“Yes, boss,” she joked, but the silence turned uncomfortable. For a while tonight they'd both forgotten that he was her boss. The whole situation seemed so strange, so foreign. So very far away from what her life had become.

He waited until she got inside before backing out of her driveway and heading back to town.

 

C
HAPTER
7

The hallway was cool and clean and Lizzie knew she should feel comfortable in this, a medical setting. But she didn't. The facility her mom now called home wasn't like a regular hospital. Sure, there were doctors and nursing staff, and Lizzie would meet with them after and discuss dosages and progress and all the other factual elements of her mother's illness.

But the truth was, Lizzie's mom lived here. She lived in a room and had her meals provided and her needs catered to. As a doctor, Lizzie knew this had been the right decision for her mom's day-to-day care.

As a daughter, she felt guilty as hell.

Lizzie paused outside the doorway, then poked her head around the corner. She never really knew if she'd find her mother at home in her room or a stranger who didn't recognize her. Today Rosemary was sitting in a chair by the window, staring outside while a skein of yarn and a crochet needle sat abandoned on her lap.

“Hello!” Lizzie called lightly, stepping to the doorway.

Rosemary Howard turned her head and a smile lit her face. “Elizabeth. Hello, dear.”

Relief rushed through Lizzie. Her mom's eyes seemed clear and sharp, her smile genuine and not confused. “Hi, Mom.” Lizzie held up a little vase. “I brought you some lilacs.”

“Oh, they're beautiful. Let me smell.” Rosemary was only sixty-five, but when she got up Lizzie could tell her hips and knees were stiff. Lizzie held out the vase and watched with bittersweet pleasure as her mom took the flowers and buried her nose in the fragrant blossoms. “I love lilacs. Where did you get them?”

Rosemary put them on her windowsill and Lizzie put down her purse. “Actually, I snipped them from the bush at the cottage where I'm staying. It's the last of them, I'm afraid. Next time I'll bring some roses from the bushes there.”

“Lizzie, are you gardening?” Her mom's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and they both moved to the seating area provided in the room, a little cozy spot with a television, a small bookshelf, and a side table that currently held a few puzzle books Lizzie kept bringing to help keep her mom's mind sharp. Sudoku was her favorite.

“Only a little,” Lizzie replied. “I'm working in Maine for a while.” She repeated the information, unsure if her mom remembered her mentioning it last time. “I'm renting a cute little cottage on the coast. You'd like it.”

Her heart gave a little lurch. Her mom really would like it up there. She'd always liked the ocean and she'd always kept beautiful flower beds at their house. Perhaps that was what bothered Lizzie the most about her mom being here. So many of the things she'd enjoyed all her life were stripped away, one by one. It didn't seem fair.

“A cottage?” Rosemary frowned. “But you've always liked the city. You don't want to be bothered by a yard and upkeep. Do you remember that plant I got you for an apartment-warming present?”

Lizzie nodded, tears stinging her eyes. Oh, it was a good day. At least so far. “It was an African violet and I killed it within a month.”

Rosemary nodded back and laughed a little, and Lizzie was so lonely for her mom that an ache spread through her chest.

“So,” she said, trying to keep things light. “I thought we could have a picnic for lunch. What do you think? I have a cooler in the car, and the nurses said we can eat in the garden at that little table overlooking the pond.”

“You cooked?”

“Of course not.” Lizzie laughed. “I'm not quite that domesticated. There's this caf
é
in Jewell Cove. The cook's name is Gus, and his fried chicken will make you weep and thank your maker. Not to mention potato salad. And I brought dessert.”

“It's so good to see you,” Rosemary said, reaching over and patting Lizzie's hand. “Let me freshen up first, okay?”

Lizzie waited while her mom went to the bathroom. So far, the disease hadn't progressed to the point where she needed help all the time and today she was remarkably clearheaded, so Lizzie let her have her independence and simply waited. When Rosemary emerged, Lizzie tried to hide her dismay and put on a bright face. Not bright enough to match Rosemary's, though. She had put on cherry-red lipstick and brushed on some blush that was far too heavy for her delicate cheeks.

“Okay, Mom, let's just tell someone we're heading to the garden and we'll have a nice lunch.”

Rosemary followed close to Lizzie as they stopped at the reception desk and then went to the car for the soft-side cooler she'd brought. It was only a few minutes and they were settled at a small iron table and chairs set in the middle of the English gardens, an oasis of tranquility remarkably free of the telltale scents of medical facilities.

She unpacked a container of fried chicken, a dish of potato salad, and another of cool sliced cucumbers, plus two soft buns from the Main Street Bakery, sandwiched together with a thick layer of real butter. Then came the plates, real ones, as Lizzie knew how her mother despised paper, and proper knives, forks, and napkins. Lizzie's one plastic concession was glasses, but the ones she'd picked up were cute, with little flowers painted on them, and she took out a thermos of cool, fresh lemonade.