From Brooding Boss to Adoring Dad. Dianne Drake
that, everything else faded away.
“You crying?” Adam asked from the doorway.
“No!” she snapped, blinking hard then brushing the back of her forearm across her eyes. “I splashed soap in my eyes.”
“'If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out.'”
“What?” she sputtered, spinning to face him.
“That’s the kind of thing you’d expect me to say, isn’t it? I don’t have antibiotic cream, I still use penicillin, I make do with what I can find.”
“And the rubber earpieces for your stethoscope are wearing through.”
“You’ve judged me on several criteria that have nothing to do with my abilities as a doctor, so I thought telling you what to do with the soap in your eyes is what you’d expect from me. Especially since you haven’t seen my diploma from Harvard so you don’t know if I’m a real medical doctor.”
“Harvard?”
He chuckled. “Preconceptions are dangerous, Dr Glover. They can get you into all kinds of trouble. So much so that you’ll end up without antibiotic cream, decent rubber earpieces and a whole lot more trouble than you’d ever bargained for. Oh, and for your information, even though it’s none of your business, I’d use penicillin even if something out there was cheaper, because I like penicillin. Now, my water?”
The strains of the music wafted over to Trinique’s home, and Erin was finding herself strangely addicted to it already. It was calming. And happy. It transported her to the Jamaica her father had always told her of, the one she believed, with all her heart, was still there. Untouched.
“I wish you’d come with me,” she said over the phone. “Regina is a beautiful village. The cottages … they’re painted with all different colors. Reds, blues, pastels like pink and yellow. Every one a different combination. And they’ve all got so many types of tropical flowers in the yards … It’s like an artist’s pallet. Then, the people … they’re so nice. They just take you in and treat you like you belong, like you’re part of their family. Well, all but one, and he doesn’t count since he’s not Jamaican.” She wasn’t about to tell her father of the trouble brewing with the land purchase. As far as he knew, she had the deed by now and everything was moving forward. Oh, she was pretty sure Coulson would turn it over, but it was going to be in his own good time. Which wasn’t her time, as she had her dad fully involved now in the business plans for the new hospital, and the sooner those were finalized, the sooner he’d come to Jamaica … she hoped. It was her intention to put him in charge of the hospital, blind or not. Algernon Glover, Chief of Staff at the Algernon Glover Hospital. Maybe it would give him back some of his life. Maybe it would entice him to come out of his dark study, where he kept the shades drawn and the door closed. That’s the way he lived these days and it scared her. But soon, very soon, that would be over with. She hoped. “So, why don’t you come down? You can do everything you need to from here.”
“I’m fine where I am, and I have more than enough to keep me busy here.”
It was clear he didn’t like getting too far away from his comfort zone. That, more than anything else, was what made her feel sad. She and her dad had traveled to so many places together over the years, and done so many things. “But you could use a nice holiday, and the beach here is beautiful. Nicer than anything else I’ve seen in Jamaica. So pristine. No tourists.”
“There’ll be time enough for that in a while. Right how, I still have work to do right where I am. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find some time for a short holiday yourself. You wouldn’t want your father on your arm for that, would you? Especially if you meet a nice young man who’s in the mood for a little holiday, too?”
He lived in perpetual hope of that. Wanted grandchildren. But she’d … she’d never been that interested. It had been more than fifteen years since her last recurrence of leukemia, and the doctors had long since declared her recovered. Years and years of fighting the disease and all its nasty comebacks had taught her to be cautious. It had also taught her to stay focused on her goal … get through college, get through medical school, now this. Her life hadn’t afforded her the luxury of having more than one goal at a time because there had been so many times when even a single goal had been a struggle. So now she had a single goal to achieve, the most important one of her life, and she wouldn’t allow herself to think in terms of anything more.
“Dad, you know I’m not looking right now,” she told him.
“One of my big regrets, Erin, is that I have raised such a serious daughter. You were brought up in an old man’s world, I’m afraid, and you don’t know how to have fun.”
Her father was older, yes. But fun … her life had been filled with fun, filled with so many wonderful things. And this was her father’s standard argument, the one he used to make her feel guilty. “It’s not going to work,” she teased.
“What’s not going to work?” he asked, laughter just on the edge of his voice.
“You know what I’m talking about. And there’ll be plenty of time for grandchildren, if I ever do find the right man.”
“If you ever start looking.”
Oh, she’d looked. Come close to finding, actually. Then been jilted because a slight illness had brought up a cancer scare, which had scared a man she might have been serious about right out the door. And he had run so hard and fast he hadn’t even made the promise that he’d call, or see her again, or they’d work it out. He’d told her he loved her one week, then bolted the next. Like her high school sweetheart had when the cancer actually had returned. Or her childhood best friend had when the chemotherapy had claimed her hair. Oh, gross, Erin. You’re, like, going bald. That’s so disgusting. So, no more looking, no more expectations. Emotionally, it was easier that way. “On that note, I’m going to say goodnight. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, Erin. Even if you are stubborn and too serious for your own good.”
He clicked off before she could get to her next comeback. And for a while after the phone call she sat with her feet propped up on the porch rail, enjoying the gentle, hot breeze, still listening to the strains of happy music wafting in. Thinking of Adam Coulson, not of her dad. Harvard education and without a decent stethoscope. On impulse, she dialed her dad back. “One more thing,” she said. “Could you send me a stethoscope?”
It was a small gesture, and she kept telling herself that it was for Tyjon, and anybody else needing treatment here. Not for Coulson.
“So, let’s just get this over with.” A voice came at her from out of the dark a while later.
Startled by Coulson’s intrusion into her pleasant solitude, Erin jumped. “Do you always sneak up on people that way?”
“I wasn’t sneaking.”
“And you didn’t exactly announce yourself either, did you?”
“Actually, I did. I said, ‘Let’s just get this over with.'”
Straightening in the chair and pulling her feet off the porch rail, she was a little sad to have her evening ended so abruptly. It was nice to relax for a while. The ambiance suited her, made her feel mellow. Lately, she hadn’t had time to relax, and who knew how long it had been since she’d felt mellow. “I agree,” she said, standing. “Let’s get this over with. Do you have my deed?”
He handed it over, without saying a word.
She didn’t look at it, though. He wouldn’t cheat her on this, and to look would be to insult him. No need to do that. No need to rub salt in what was obviously a very open, very raw wound. “Thank you,” she said, tucking the paper into her pocket.
“Just like that,” he said, almost under his breath.
“Like what?”
“Like in a split second, it’s gone.” He shrugged. “So that