The Doctor She Always Dreamed Of (7 page)

Derrick hated the idea of her spending the night all alone in a motel room. “Don't be ridiculous. You'll stay at the house.”

“Your dad doesn't want me there.”

Derrick sat up too. “Then why did he tell me to pick up some steaks and whatever you want him to grill you for dinner, on our way home?”

She shrugged. “That was nice of him. But I really don't have it in me to listen to how great you are and how horrible I am.”

“I told him everything, Kira.”

Her eyes went wide. “Everything, everything?”

He smiled. “Okay, not
everything
. But how you wouldn't talk with me until I got the HIPPA form signed and after I got it I wasn't able to reach you so I drove down to your office and so on.”

“What did he say?”

“That he owes you an apology for the heartless beast comment.”

“First time anyone's ever called me that.” She looked down and pulled out another blade of grass. “At least to my face.”

“I doubt he would have said that to your face if he'd known who you were.” Although with his dad, he couldn't be quite sure.

“To be completely honest, I'm upset with my sister and stressed about what's going to happen on Monday when I meet with my boss. I'm really not in the mood to be pleasant company.” She shook her head. “A nice long hot bath, a turkey sandwich, a chilled bottle of wine and I'm good.”

Not if Derrick had any say in the matter. “You have another night all to yourself. You can do anything you want and you want to spend it alone in a motel room? That doesn't sound like fun at all.”

She looked over at him. “For me it is.”

“It's not what you wanted last night.” Last night she'd wanted to spend the night with him...naked. And now Derrick couldn't shake that thought from his brain.

“Well, we can't always have what we want, now can we?”

“Tonight you can,” he told her, wanting to show her a good time. This woman who took care of her mom, who'd taken care of his mom and had gotten her the service and equipment she needed, who rarely had a night to herself, deserved to have at least one night of fun this weekend. Derrick was determined to see that she did. “Come back to the house. We'll have dinner. Mom and Dad go to bed early. We can go out for drinks.” Two glasses of wine and three shots of Southern Comfort with lime, to be exact. “Or we can swing by the liquor store now and get hammered out back by the fire pit behind the house later on.” Under the stars, like he'd done so many times as a teenager. “
That
will be fun.” He looked over at her. “And tonight, if you offer, I promise I won't turn you down.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

K
IRA
SAT
AT
the table in the kitchen, recalling how Derrick's dad had, in fact, apologized for his ‘heartless beast' comment, the minute Kira walked into the house. Then he'd thanked her again for all she'd done earlier that morning, for getting a new home health care agency to come out to visit Daisy, and for not having his idiot son arrested for kidnapping. She smiled. Thank the good Lord Derrick hadn't shared his atrocious video of her.

“You're smiling,” Derrick said from across the table.

“What? A person can't smile?” Kira speared a chunk of the potato salad they'd picked up on the way home from the park earlier, a scoop of which now rested on her plate.

“You been doing it a lot,” Mr. Limone pointed out around a mouthful of steak. “Sitting there all quiet, smiling.”

It was the whole family togetherness thing. The four of them, Daisy propped up in her new wheelchair, sitting around the table as Derrick shared the happenings at his new family practice, his dad shared news about his friends in town, and they both argued about incidents from Derrick's youth and whose version was the true and accurate one. Mr. Limone helped Daisy, cutting her food into tiny pieces, patiently waiting while she tried to feed herself with her left hand, assisting only when she became frustrated. At times they both sat there, not eating, simply holding hands under the table, their mutual love for each other evident. Enviable. Daisy seemed so happy to be at the table, a part of their little group, smiling her half-droopy smile, actually chuckling a time or two over the antics of her husband and son.

Kira remembered dinners with her own family, Dad's hysterical impressions of his boss, Mom encouraging good manners, each one of them taking a few minutes to share the best and worst parts of their day. Entertaining Krissy would tell jokes or recount something funny that'd happened at school. They'd all laugh. Kira had felt a part of something special. Then life had changed...and then it'd changed again.

“Hey,” Derrick said, reaching over to lift her chin. “I liked it better when you were smiling.”

“Sorry.” Kira forced out a smile. “Everything's delicious.”

“So you said already,” Mr. Limone pointed out.

“Dad,” Derrick cautioned. “Stop it. You promised to be nice.”

Even though he'd apologized and seemed to appreciate what she'd done for Daisy, he wasn't near as warm to her as he'd been prior to finding out that Kira the nurse and Miss Peniglatt were the same person. Obviously he still thought she'd only done what she'd done because his son “the doctor” had called her.

“It's okay,” she told Derrick. “He's right. I did already say that.” For sure she would not be saying it again. Kira focused in on eating. The sooner she was done the sooner she could leave the table and busy herself cleaning the kitchen. That'd been the deal. They'd cook while she sat with Daisy and after dinner she would clean up.

An awkward silence fell over the table.

Kira felt awful. Her presence was ruining Derrick's time with his family.

She should have insisted he take her to a motel.

“Ouch!” Mr. Limone jerked back his right hand. “Damn it, woman. You know how I hate that.”

Daisy simply stared at her plate.

Derrick smiled. “Mom rarely yells,” he said.

Mr. Limone added, “But she sure as heck lets you know when she's not happy with you.”

“One way she does it is with a quick, hard pinch,” Derrick explained.

“Which it turns out she can do just as good with her left hand as with her right.” Mr. Limone rubbed his right forearm.

Daisy gave Kira a droopy yet satisfied half-smile as she slid her left hand across the table, palm up. Kira took her hand and smiled back as Daisy gave her a tight squeeze. Kira wished she could have met this sweet woman before the stroke.

Easy as that, the mood around the table changed.

Derrick said, “She's a sneaky pincher. You never saw it coming.”

“Got the boys' attention, that's for sure,” Mr. Limone said. “Even when they was bigger and faster, they never ran from her.”

“Because she'd only get us later on,” Derrick said. “At the dinner table or just as we were about to fall asleep.”

Daisy said, “Nooooooo.”

“Oh, yes, you did,” Derrick said, with love in his eyes. “But only when we deserved it.”

Daisy nodded. “Deeeserrrrrrrr...”

Turning to look at Kira, Mr. Limone asked, “So what'd your mama do to keep you in line?”

“She'd said, ‘Family takes care of family.'” If Kira complained about having to watch Krissy instead of getting to play with her friends, her mother would say, “Family takes care of family.” If she tried to get out of helping Aunt Bernice—who was overweight and on oxygen and moved slower than a sloth—at the grocery store her mother would say, “Family takes care of family.” Mom said those words and lived by them until she no longer could. Then it was Kira's turn.

Daisy gave her hand another squeeze. Kira blinked back into the present, needing some distance from this happy family time. “I'm sorry,” she said, pushing back her chair. “Please excuse me.” She stood. “I, um.” She looked down and met each of the three pairs of eyes staring up at her. “I'm not feeling so well.” She put her hand over her stomach for effect.

“Hope it wasn't my steaks,” Mr. Limone said.

“No. Of course not. Everything was delicious.” She stopped, realizing what she'd just said, unable to keep from smiling.

“So you said already.” Mr. Limone smiled too.

They'd come full circle.

“I'm just going to,” she pointed to the stairs, “lie down for a few minutes. Call me when you're done and I'll clean up.” Without waiting for a response she turned and all but ran up the stairs.

Kira had just sat down on the bed when there was a knock on the door. Derrick hadn't waited long before coming after her. She didn't answer, hoping he'd go away, embarrassed by her behavior. When had she become so inept at interacting with people face-to-face? At leaving the past where it belonged, in the past? At keeping her private life private?

The door opened. “You okay?” Derrick asked.

Such a nice guy.

“Sorry.” She turned to face the doorway. “It's been a while since I've sat down to a family dinner. It brought back...” Emotion clogged her throat. She tried to clear it. “...memories.” She shook her head. “I don't belong here. I think you should take me to a motel.”

He walked in and sat down beside her. “I'm not taking you to a motel.”

“Fine. I'll call a taxi.” She hesitated. “You do have taxis in this town, right?” She couldn't recall seeing any when she'd been on her jog earlier.

He thought for a few seconds then his full, kissable lips turned into a slow, sexy smile. “Nope.” He shook his head. “No taxis in this town. You're stuck here.”

No she wasn't. Even if he was telling the whole truth, which she didn't believe he was, after all the time they'd spent together, she was ninety-eight percent certain if she insisted, he'd take her wherever she wanted to go. But even though she probably should leave and give Derrick uninterrupted time with his parents, she'd lied earlier. While a nice long hot bath would be lovely, Kira ate too many turkey sandwiches, drank too many chilled glasses of wine without being in the company of others, and spent too many anything but blissful hours alone...with Mom, which, most of the time, was pretty much the same as being all alone.

He leaned over and bumped her playfully with his muscular shoulder. “We'll have fun.”

God Kira needed a night of fun.

And tonight, if you offer, I promise I won't turn you down
.

Oh, no. She jumped off of the bed, needing some distance between her and Derrick. “Fun doing what?” She turned on him. “I have no intention of having sex with you. Last night was a one-time offer.” Made to a stranger, a man she'd never see again. But one day later, Derrick knew too much about her and she knew too much about him and his family. She'd actually started to like him, damn it. Sex now would...complicate things. Emotions complicated things. And Kira's life was complicated enough.

Derrick stood, too. “We'll have fun drinking and talking, drinking and roasting marshmallows for s'mores. Then we'll play drunk horseshoes and drunk cornhole in the glow of a roaring bonfire.” He walked over to where she stood, looking out the window.

“I'm sensing a theme here.”

He positioned himself close behind her. “Long time ago I learned, the most boring activities turn fun when you're under the influence of alcohol.”

“Good to know.”

“Drunk stargazing to find the constellations.”

It all sounded fun.

He stepped in even closer, pressing his front to her back, too close, and leaned down, placing his mouth close to her ear as he whispered, “Drunk sex.”

She turned her head slightly, trying to see his face. “Are you saying sex with you is boring and I'll need alcohol to make it fun?”

“What?” He jerked back. “Hell no.”

Such a male response. “Doesn't matter, because it's not going to happen.”

He turned on the charm, leaning in close again. “I bet I can get you to offer again.”

Kira wasn't sure if it was his hot, moist breath hitting an over sensitive spot or the intent of his words, but a very pleasant tingle shot through her. Even so she countered, “I bet you can't.”

“If I can't,” he stepped back, starring down at her, so serious, “we both lose.” Then, without giving her a chance to respond, he turned and walked toward the door. “Come on. I'll help you clean the kitchen.”

* * *

A few hours later, after Kira had helped Daisy with some physical therapy exercises, reviewed a pack of cue cards as part of her speech therapy, and helped her get ready for bed, she followed Derrick down the back steps into the backyard. “I don't get it,” he said, carrying a heavy cooler filled with ice and booze like it was nothing. “You're so good with my mother. You obviously enjoy hands-on patient care and you're damn good at it. Watch this last step.”

While the light up by the back door was on and the flames blazing in the fire pit lit up part of the large yard, there was about twenty feet of total darkness between the two.

Derrick stopped and turned, waiting for her. “Take my arm.”

How gentlemanly. Shifting the old comforter he'd given her to carry into her right hand, she held on to him with the left.

“Why would you want to spend your days in an office setting,” he asked. “Making difficult decisions about patients you never see, being front and center in the ongoing battle between patients and their insurance carriers?”

The answer was easy enough. “I needed something with regular hours, Monday through Friday. It's too hard to schedule aides for Mom around a changing twelve hour shift schedule or on call responsibilities where I'd have to go out and see patients. WCHC pays me good money, which I need to cover all the stuff Mom's insurance doesn't pay for.” But lately she'd begun to wonder if her large salary was worth all the aggravation. “Plus I like the business side of health care.”

As they got closer to the fire, when Kira could see the grass under her feet again, she let go of Derrick's arm. “Nurse case managers get a bad rap.” When he stopped, she dropped the blanket next to where he'd set the cooler. Then she picked up the cloth bag holding one of the collapsible chairs Derrick must have carried out earlier when he'd made the fire, dumped it out and opened it up. “Yes, we're fiscally responsible to our employer, but we're nurses first. Our priority is seeing that our patients get the quality care they need but in a cost effective manner.”

“Your company makes money by limiting the care your patients receive,” Derrick said, setting up the other chair.

A common misperception, Kira sat down, reached into the cooler and took out a beer. “My company makes money when our patients remain healthy. About half of my case managers are assigned to health maintenance only, reminding patients to get their physical exams and take their medications, have their blood pressure and blood sugar levels checked on a regular basis.”

She twisted off the top and handed the beer to Derrick.

He took it and sat down beside her. “Thank you.”

“We want our patients to be well cared for and maintained safely in their homes. Decubiti cost money. Falls resulting in fractured hips or other injuries cost money. Injury or worsening health in the primary caregiver, whether or not that primary caregiver is our client, costs money, because if they're not able to care for the patient it usually means admission to an inpatient facility which is almost always more expensive than maintaining someone in their home.” Facts she'd presented to Mr. Jeffries over and over again yet he remained focused only on the cost of care.

Derrick handed her a single serve bottle of chardonnay and a wineglass. “My mom and dad were left on their own for three days, Kira. Three days.”

She felt terrible about that. “We're not perfect. We've got new management focused on cost containment above all else. I'm doing my best to correct the problems as they're brought to my attention while also trying to get my boss to understand...” She twisted the top off of the bottle and poured it into her glass. “You know what? I don't want to talk about it. You promised me a night of fun, and talking about my work is not fun.”

“You're right.” He held up his beer. “To a night of fun.”

She tapped it with her wineglass. “To a night of fun.”
And tonight, if you offer, I promise I won't turn you down
.
Lord help her, she needed to stop thinking about that. Kira stared into the dancing flames. “This is my first bonfire.”