Zenith Rising (4 page)

“Is she right, Erica? Am I being selfish? A
bad mother? She said every new mother nowadays nurses.”

Erica took Joelle’s hand. She knew how hard
it would be for Joelle to remain stable and act like an ordinary,
married mother. “No. Everyone doesn’t. Bottom line is, even if
everyone did, it doesn’t matter. You have to do what’s right for
you as a mother, considering your lifestyle, as well as your
family.”

Nick came to Joelle’s other side. “Erica’s
right.”

“Thank you. You’re kinda scary when you get
pissed off.”

Erica smiled a tired grin. “I’m going home.
If you need anything at all; page me, text me, or call me. I mean
it. No more breakdowns that are preventable. You call me.”

“We will. Erica—God, thank you. For
everything. For our daughter.”

“Have you named her yet?”

“Jody Lynn Lassiter.”

“Jody. I love it. Good luck tonight, Mom and
Dad.”

Erica exited the room. She found Spencer
still there, right where she left him. He ducked into Joelle’s room
when Erica left. She stopped at the on-call room and changed into
slacks and a short-sleeved shirt she came to work in. She grabbed
her things and headed towards the elevator, just in time to see
Spencer walking out from Joelle’s room.

“Are you done then?” he asked, pressing the
down arrow.

“Yes. I’m going home. You?”

“Yeah.” They again stepped into the elevator
together, and after a moment, he shifted, looking at her
profile.

“Remind me never to piss you off.”

Erica winced. “You heard me with the
lactation consultant?”

“The entire floor probably did. I didn’t know
you had it in you.”

“Well, God, Joelle’s all nervous and scared,
feeling bad enough, and she’s getting criticized and urged to try
something she doesn’t want to. We, the doctors, nurses, and staff
are here to help, and guide, not force patients to make decisions.
We provide the facts and information, but we can’t make the
patients’ choices for them.”

Spencer smiled at her and her heart jumped.
He was hot, with smoldering eyes, and a lazy grin. “You get pretty
involved with your patients, don’t you?”

“Yes. Sorry to go off like that.”

“No. Don’t be. You’re very passionate here.
At work.”

“In contrast to how I appear otherwise?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know how I come
off.”

He turned and shifted his long, lean body
towards her and crossed his arms over his chest. His lips curled as
if he were privy to some joke she didn’t know about. “How’s that?
How do you come off?”

“Cold. Calm. Serious. Whatever, but not
passionate.”

“You don’t come off cold. Just professional.
Unless of course, you’re the lactation consultant. Then better
watch out.”

Erica cleared her throat, looking
embarrassed. She shifted her coat in her hands as she waited for
the elevator ride to end. Finally, the bottom floor dinged, and
they got out. They headed out together, without touching, to the
main exit. Then she turned towards the parking garage. He also
turned and started heading the other way.

“Parking garage is this way.”

“I know.”

“Where are you going?”

“Bus stop, Doc. I wasn’t at home when Nick
called about Joelle. A friend dropped me here.”

“Don’t you live downtown?”

“Close to. But not waterfront like you.”

“If it’s fairly close to me, I can give you a
ride.”

He turned and eyed her suspiciously. “Why
would you do that, Doc?”

Why indeed, Doc?
She shrugged. “I
don’t have a reason. I just offered.”

“I take the bus all the time.”

“Still, I’m offering you a ride.”

He stepped closer to her. He towered over her
in a way she wasn’t used to most people doing. His eyes glinted
under the streetlights. She remembered then that he was once Spike,
and she stepped back. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?

“Okay, Doc, you can give me a ride home.”

Chapter Three

Erica came up to her car, flipping her hair
off her shoulder, as she dug around to find her keys. Her raw
nerves had her hands fumbling.

“Would you mind driving?”

“Why?”

“I’m a little tired. I was at the hospital
all last night too.”

“Of course, you were, Doc. Don’t you always
work?”

“Maybe. Would you mind?”

“No. I didn’t work at all,” he said. She
couldn’t explain it, but she found it hard to function properly
being so close to this man. She tossed the keys his way, went
around to the passenger side and got into her car. He slid into the
driver’s seat, being careful not to bump his head, as he waited for
the electric seat to slide all the way back. He was so tall, his
knees came up high, nearly hitting the console.

“How tall are you?”

He glanced her way. “Six-four. And no, I’ve
never played basketball. That’s everyone’s second question.”

He started her car, which purred to life. He
shifted the stick, and slid the car out with surprising speed,
nearly peeling out as he took off.

“This car is like driving on silk. Sure
you’re okay with me at the wheel?”

“Yes, other than I don’t usually leave skid
marks.”

“No racing?” His lips quirked up to the side.
Her heart bumped inside her chest in response. He was way too
young, and way too hot for his own good.

“No racing.”

He worked the clutch, easily shifting gears,
while sliding the low slung car over the hills and traffic of
Seattle. Somehow, he made her little car seem sexy, where usually,
it just seemed small and white.

“How long have you been out of work?” Erica
asked. She felt like she was groping and searching for something to
say, anything to fill the silence of her car, her suddenly too
small, too tight car.

“Just got laid off. Times suck.”

“Does Joelle know?”

“I didn’t tell her. She tries to get me on at
the Lassiter empire anytime I mention jobs.”

“Why don’t you? Nick pays well.”

“I know. But Nick’s also married to my best
friend’s wife. Gets a little complicated. Rob wouldn’t be too happy
if I came home working for Nick too.”

“But if you need the job, surely, your friend
would understand.”

“It’s hard enough I like Nick so much. I
can’t work for him too.”

“Rob seems like he demands a lot from
you.”

“I met Rob at my darkest moment, and he saved
my life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Rob.”

Erica looked at Spencer’s profile, surprised
at his suddenly serious tone. What was his darkness? What did his
blank looks hide? What dark place spawned the creation of Spike? Or
his strange loyalty to Rob Williams?

Spencer turned his head and caught her
staring. She turned away and looked out the windshield as silence
settled over the car. Exhausted, having not slept in two nights,
the lulling motion of the car made her feel like she suddenly
wilted. She must have nodded off, because suddenly, the car braked
before pulling into a driveway. Erica woke up, startled. It took
her a moment to orient herself.

“I fell asleep?”

“Yeah, within a matter of minutes. When did
you last sleep?”

“Two nights ago.”

“Are you okay to get yourself home? I can
drive you, and take the bus back here. I won’t be going to bed for
hours anyway.”

“That kind of defeats the purpose of giving
you a ride home. No. Thanks though. I’m used to it.”

“You want a coffee or something? Caffeine
might help.”

Did she? Erica’s mind was fuzzy. Groggy.
Maybe that would be a good idea. And maybe because she wasn’t quite
ready to part with Spencer’s company. Something about the man
beside her attracted her. Intrigued her. Why? She wasn’t sure. But
knew it was so.

“Okay.”

Erica inventoried the house Joelle used to
share with Rob, Spike, and the rest of their band. She had never
seen it before, but expected to find a disaster by all accounts.
Now it looked small, quaint, old, and plain. And clean. The grass
was mown. It was a boxy two story house with a plain front door.
Nothing remarkable. But nothing sinister or gross either. Spencer,
and the recently sober, Rob, lived there now, and the parties and
drugs were all gone, not as they were when Joelle formerly lived
there.

They both got out of the car and passed
through the nearly empty garage. Her surprise at its barren state
must have showed in her expression. Seeing it, Spencer waved a hand
around and said, “We got rid of almost everything a year or so ago.
Everything we didn’t really need; it was part of the cleaning up,
and getting sober stuff. You know, look better, feel better, kind
of thing? Besides, most of our past lives were crap. Not like
either of us had any childhood mementos or sentimental family crap
to look after.”

“It’s strange for me to think of Joelle ever
living here.”

“You can’t imagine what Joelle lived in! When
she was here, it wasn’t anything like this. It might not be fancy
now, but at least, it’s clean, and decent. Back then, it was just
as messed up as we all were.”

She followed Spencer through the garage into
the utility room, and down a hallway into the kitchen, which opened
up into the dining and living rooms.

The colors were very dated and the kitchen in
dire need of modernization. The living room was empty, but for a
couch and flat screen TV/entertainment center. Everything was
painstakingly neat, and all of it utilitarian. They seemed afraid
to bring anything resembling clutter inside.

Erica tried several times, but failed to
picture Joelle actually living here. Spencer went over to a black
coffee maker on the counter. He grabbed the ground coffee beans and
was putting them in when the door unexpectedly opened, and in
walked Rob Williams.

Erica froze. So did Rob. Behind him were two
men whom she recognized as Kenny and Mitch, their former band
members. She instantly regretted coming there. What was she doing
there, at this house, with a damn rock band, of all things? And
recovering, former drug addicts? Okay, maybe not still drug
addicts, but all the same, a faster crowd than Erica ever ran
around with. She was way too old, much too grown up, and far too
prim and conservative for this kind of crowd.

Rob’s eyes widened with surprise. He stood
several inches shorter than she, his arms covered in tattoos, his
hair thick and shaggy, and his face covered by a scruffy, short
beard. He was well-built, wiry, and tightly muscled. He looked sexy
in a careless, rock star, different kind of way. A way Erica wasn’t
used to, much less, comfortable with.

She backed up, hitting the counter with her
back. Her throat felt dry and an awkward silence screamed its
presence between them. She tried to swallow her nerves.

“You’re Nick’s old girlfriend, aren’t you?
And Joelle’s friend? The doctor?” Rob was studying her. Puzzlement
instantly appeared on his face as he looked at her more closely,
then over at Spencer who suddenly straightened up and was stepping
nearer to her. She felt inexplicably glad he did.

Rob still hated her because she was the
reason from long ago why Joelle never returned to him. She gave
Joelle a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go. Now Erica
trembled slightly with fear for doing that favor. Rob must still
hate her. For knowing Nick. For helping Joelle. And for being
involved in the situation that left Rob divorced and without a
band.

“Yes. I am.”

Rob stared at Erica, then up at Spencer,
whose arm now rested on the counter behind her. He was deliberately
not touching her, but remaining near and was surprisingly,
comforting. His proximity made her heart flutter strangely. “I
see,” he said, but Erica heard the negative undertones to his
voice.

“Joelle had her baby tonight,” Spencer told
him, finally.

“Ah, I see. And you delivered it. How then is
it she came here to my house? For that matter, why would Joelle’s
best friend come to my house?”

Erica also wondered that. She opened her
mouth to defend herself with a hasty explanation that she delivered
Joelle’s baby and drove Spencer home, but Spencer spoke first.

“What the hell do you care?”

There were definite undertones here. Big
ones. Ones Erica preferred not to know about. She certainly did not
want to witness his annoyance, or possibly, anger. And of course,
Rob’s jaw visibly tightened at hearing about his ex-wife having a
baby with the man she left him for. Of course, Rob was pissed off.
Of course, he didn’t want Erica at his house. And she was really
stupid to come in.

Behind Rob, Kenny and Mitch walked into the
kitchen and they all stared at her. She felt a strange wave of
trepidation, as if she were being gawked over. Her presence was
obviously not welcome, and definitely becoming an issue as Rob and
Spencer seemed to be involved in a silent stand-off. There was a
lot of testosterone in that kitchen; and it felt intimidating. It
was a different kind of maleness than she was used to, which was
suits, money, and refined conversation. Men like Nick Lassiter.
These men, however, were rockers. They were all daunting to her in
their own ways, the worst being Rob.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” Rob asked
Spencer, his voice tightly controlled.

“Fine. I’ll be right back,” Spencer said, as
he stepped around Erica and followed Rob. Erica had no idea what
that might be about, but she sensed profundity. Undercurrents she
couldn’t, for the life of her, read. She was left alone with Kenny,
an overweight, sloppily dressed drummer with unkempt hair, and
stained, much too large-sized clothes. Next to him was Mitch, a
body builder who seemed almost comical with his freakishly
overbuilt arms and chest. They were both glaring at her
unapologetically.