Do You Hear What I Hear?. Holly Jacobs
Libby wouldn’t allow her to use public chat rooms, but they’d set up a private one where all Meg’s friends could meet. And meet they did whenever Meg could sneak some computer time on their antiquated model.
She’d be thrilled with the new model Libby planned to buy her for Christmas. Computers, sign language, lip reading—Libby encouraged anything that opened communication for her daughter.
She started slicing the Italian bread, visions of modems and mouses floating through her head. Like any other fifth grader, Meg would love a faster model.
Like any other fifth grader. That phrase summed up Meggie to a T. Well, maybe not just like any other fifth grader. Meg was special, and it wasn’t her hearing impairment that made her that way. She was just a very special little girl.
Too bad her father, Mitch, hadn’t stuck around long enough to see that he was right—their daughter wasn’t normal. No, Meg was spectacular.
Mitch’s loss was Libby’s gain. Raising Meg was probably the most wonderful thing she’d ever do. Getting dinner with her, nagging her about homework, seeing the world through her daughter’s baby blue eyes was a gift. And Libby tried not to let a day go by without reminding herself how blessed she was.
Fifteen minutes later the two of them sat down to their spaghetti and meatballs. In between bites Meg bubbled about her score on some new computer game she was playing with Jackie Henderson. “I beat her, big-time.”
“I suppose she’ll want a rematch, and she might win, so don’t get too cocky.”
“No way. My fingers are quicker than hers will ever be.”
After nine years of signing, Libby’s fingers were fast, but not nearly as fast as Meg’s. She was probably right—Jackie didn’t stand a chance.
The kitchen light flashed at the same moment the doorbell buzzer sounded.
“I’ll get it,” Meg signed even as she flew out of her chair before Libby could protest. She didn’t like Meg answering the door after dark, and evenings came early in November. She hastily trailed after her daughter.
“Flowers!” Meg signed before she took the arrangement of fall foliage from the deliveryman.
The dark-haired deliveryman flashed a lopsided smile as he checked his clipboard. “Libby McGuiness, right?”
“Right.” Libby fished in her back pocket and pulled out a couple dollars. “Here,” she said, thrusting the bills at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. Whoever he is, he’s sure sorry. He called the shop and sent me out after hours, even though it cost him extra.”
Libby shut the door and took the card from the arrangement Meg had placed on the hall table. “Dear Ms. Snippy,” it read, “Here’s a number for Dan’s Driving Lessons. I suggest you start ASAP.”
What an arrogant, couldn’t-park-to-save-his-truck sort of man. Without thinking she bent and sniffed the flowers. He might be an idiot, but that didn’t mean Libby couldn’t enjoy the beautiful arrangement.
“What?” Meg asked, grabbing the card.
“I had a run-in at work,” Libby explained, all her previous annoyance flooding back. “Come on, let’s finish dinner.” She stuffed the card in her pocket and started walking back to the kitchen.
Meg stopped her with a tug on her sleeve. “An accident?” Concern was etched on Meg’s expressive face.
“No,” Libby reassured her. “A very bad parker who thinks he’s funny.”
“I think he is, too,” Meg said. “Is he cute?”
“No, he’s not cute, and you’re a traitor.”
“I’ve seen you park.” Meg pantomimed numerous parking attempts. “You end up miles from the curb.”
“And you’re grounded,” Libby said, laughing. Her frustration with Dr. Hunky-can’t-park Gardner evaporated in the face of her daughter’s amusement.
“Am not.”
“Are, too.” Hands flew as they talked over one another. “No.” “Yes.” “I still have homework.” “You’re a cheat.” “And you can’t park.”
“Eat,” Libby said, and Meg’s hands quieted as she finished her spaghetti. Unfortunately Libby’s thoughts didn’t have to quiet while she ate, and no matter how she tried, they kept circling back to Dr. Gardner. He obviously thought his good looks and a cute card attached to some mums and leaves would get him out of trouble. Well, he had a thing or two left to learn.
Libby didn’t like him—didn’t like him a bit. He was arrogant, and he had a warped sense of humor. Add to that the fact he was far too good-looking for his own good, probably had half of Erie’s female population eating out of his hand, and you had the right mixture for trouble.
Okay, he just moved here. So, he might not have all that many women yet, but just give him time and he would. But one of those women would never be Libby McGuiness.
She could sense trouble when she met it, and in this case trouble had a name—Dr. Gardner.
Trouble.
The pattern of the waiting room border was the least of his worries the next morning, but Joshua Gardner found himself staring at the wallpaper book anyway. Visions of wallpaper designs might be dancing before his eyes, but it was visions of his new neighbor that kept dancing in his mind. A new neighbor whose snapping blue eyes had haunted his dreams last night. A new neighbor who didn’t appreciate his parking abilities.
She did have a point. It certainly hadn’t been his best parking job ever. He’d been in such a hurry to get into his office—his office—that he’d simply jostled his truck into the first available space and never even checked that the oversize vehicle hadn’t infringed on anyone else’s space.
And, of course, his response to her anger had been a bit over the top. He’d been tired, and the tension of getting his practice off the ground might not impress her as a good enough excuse, but there it was. He’d been tired and grumpy and she’d simply set his teeth on edge.
Josh had felt bad moments after he’d pulled out of his parking space. He hoped his flowers had eased the tension between them. The last thing he wanted was to start off on the wrong foot—or tires as the case may be—with his new neighbors.
She was cute though. Ms. McGuiness. She was all bristles and outrage. Both of which happened to look very good on her. He chuckled as he forced his attention back to the task at hand. Wallpaper. It might not be one of his most earth-shattering decisions, but it was his decision. His new life, his new office…his new wallpaper border.
“This,” he said, pointing to a bold, geometric-shaped border.
“You’re sure?” Amy’s tone suggested she was anything but sure about his choice.
“Yes. I’m positive.”
His cute, just-out-of-high-school, bundle-of-energy receptionist shrugged and grabbed the book. “Okay, you’re the boss. It’s your office.” She strode from the office and slammed the door.
The boss.
That was him. Joshua Gardner was in charge, in control. It had been a long time since he’d felt as if he was in control of anything. But now he was the sole owner of Gardner’s Ophthalmology. Every piece of furniture and all the equipment in the office was his. The hiring and firing of staff for the office was all up to him. Even the wallpaper decisions were all his. The buck stopped at his desk.
The problem was the bucks were close to stopping altogether. Buying Dr. Master’s practice, deciding to buy the office building rather than rent it, relocating to Erie…It all took money. After his divorce, his bank account was suddenly lighter than it had been in years. At the moment it wasn’t just light, it was next to empty. But the practice came with a built-in