Medical Romance June 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall
of deference. Hadn’t really even noticed it until he’d left the country. Now most people just saw him as a doctor, and it struck him how much he greatly preferred that to this kind of respect, based only on his birthright and not his accomplishments.
Something his parents and brother still didn’t understand.
He pressed his lips together and forged on until he got to his mother’s room. Then surprised himself when he had to stop outside it to inhale long calming breaths, fighting for composure. It wasn’t as though he didn’t practically live in hospitals. Between medical school and residency and working around the world, doing basic medicine and not the specialized obstetrics he did elsewhere, he’d seen thousands of sick people. Had seen plenty of them die. Had seen patients make miraculous recoveries too.
But none of them had been his mother.
Yes, she aggravated him, insulted him, berated him and lectured him. But she was still his mother and, damn it, he loved her. She’d been so angry about the recent press brouhaha and the various photos and lurid details, half of which had been made up, and he wasn’t proud of the things he’d said back to her when she’d scolded him about it. He couldn’t remember what they were, exactly, but he knew his words had hurt her feelings.
All that felt pretty unforgivable now that she was lying in a hospital bed in Intensive Care. Even though her heart attack had been fairly mild and the prognosis was good, he also knew things could go downhill fast.
Bracing himself, he forced his feet to go through the doorway. Then stood feeling slightly off balance at the end of the hospital bed, gripping the railing tight, because the pale woman hooked up to machines, with an I.V. in her arm and an oxygen hose in her nose, didn’t look like his mother at all. She looked a good ten years older than the last time he’d seen her, and in that very second he vowed to never let so much time go by again between visits.
He swallowed hard then looked past the scary things to the one thing that seemed normal and familiar. Her hair was remarkably well coiffed and tidy for someone lying in the ICU after a heart attack, and it helped him manage a smile. Yes, this woman was his mother after all. The vain queen of the land who was always perfect and regal from head to toe.
Her eyelids flickered open and took a moment to focus on him. Then she smiled and slowly extended her hand. “Rafael.”
The heavy tightness in his chest loosened at the way she said his name. At the way her smile, weak as it was, lit her tired eyes. He quickly stepped around the bed to grasp her hand. “Hi, Mother. Your hair looks nice. I’m surprised, though, that you’re not wearing lipstick.”
Her smile widened into a slightly wheezy chuckle. “Had one tucked under my pillow, but I think the nurse took it when they changed the sheets.” The squeeze she gave his hand was weak but stronger than he’d expected, and he began to relax.
“Isn’t this a rather drastic way to get me to come home?”
“You make me do drastic things. You’ve been like that since you were a little boy, and you’re apparently never going to change, even if it kills me.”
“And apparently you aren’t going to change either, scolding me while flat on your back in a hospital bed.” Her acerbic tone was that of the queen and mother he knew well, but her eyes held a new vulnerability that made him feel guilty as hell for all the things he’d done wrong in his life that had caused her anxiety and stress. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I checked all your test and lab results. Has your cardiologist been in to talk to you about it?”
“Yes. But I’d like to hear what you think.”
She wanted to hear what he thought? Since when? “You have some mild blockage in your right coronary artery. They’re going to do angioplasty to cross through the area that’s narrowed by cholesterol plaque, and put in a stent to bridge that narrowing. The procedure has been done for years now, and results are usually good. So, assuming it goes well, you should be your old, bossy self soon.”
“I’m never bossy. I’m simply assertive and direct.”
“Rafael!”
He turned at the sound of his father’s booming voice to see him striding into the room. Unlike Rafael’s mother, he looked exactly like he always did, posture erect and the picture of health with his skin tanned from golfing and his silver hair thick and wavy. But his eyes held a worry Rafael had never seen before.
His father’s arms enfolded him in a hard hug. “What do you think about your mother? Is she going to be all right? Is what they want to do a good idea? I’ve talked to the doctors here, but I trust you to know what’s really going on.”
Rafael stared at him in shock. Again, this was entirely new. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d trusted him about anything, let alone his doctoring skills.
“I was just explaining the test results to Mother.” He repeated what he’d told her, and as he stood there, beyond surprised at the intent interest on both his parents’ faces as he spoke, Gabriella’s words came back to him. Saying that he should talk to them, should share how he felt about their opinion of him. He’d told himself for years he didn’t care if they respected him or not. But the peculiar mix of emotions filling his chest as he stood there looking at them told him loud and clear he’d been lying to himself.
Maybe Gabriella was right, and it was time to see if the air could be cleared between them, at least a little. “But I have to be honest. I’m surprised you’re asking my opinion. You’ve expressed nothing but disappointment that I decided to become a doctor.”
“I admit we wanted you to stay here and help your brother with various royal duties, but when you became a doctor? That wasn’t a disappointment, Rafael.” His father grasped his shoulder in a strong grip. “We were proud of you.”
“Always, Rafael. And I’m sorry we never really told you that,” his mother said. Her eyes held some look he couldn’t be sure of—guilt, maybe? Contrition? “As I’ve been lying here, I’ve thought about you. Realized that perhaps we’ve been wrong to object to you living your life the way you want to.”
“I’m sorry, too,” his father said. “In case you don’t know, your mother regularly brags about your work. When she’s not apologizing for the stupid things you do sometimes, that is.” His father’s grin took any sting out of his words, and he squeezed Rafael’s shoulder before releasing it to hold his mother’s hand tight. And when his parents’ eyes met both were filled with softness, an obvious connection that he’d never seen between them before.
That rocked him back on his heels as much as what they’d just said. They were proud of him? Even bragged about him? He found it nearly impossible to believe, but it was becoming clear he’d been wrong about a lot of things, so maybe it was really true.
His mind filled with a vision of Gabriella and her insight about his family that he hadn’t truly thought was a real possibility. Insight that had been pretty incredible, since she hadn’t even met his parents. She’d figured out something in just a few minutes of conversation with him that he hadn’t seen in thirty-one years.
She was one special woman, no doubt about that. Someone who understood human nature in a way he was obviously still trying to figure out, which was just one reason she was an amazing midwife.
Just one reason why he’d been so attracted to her that very first day they’d met.
A need to talk to her that moment, to call her and tell her he’d taken her advice, had him opening his mouth to tell his parents he’d be back in a short time when a nurse came into the room.
“Time to check your vital signs, Your Majesty,” she said, before coming to a dead stop to stare at Rafael.
A good excuse to make his exit. “Then I’ll leave you for the moment, Mother. I’ll be back in a little while.”
He scooted past the nurse, who still hadn’t moved, on down the long hallway to an exit door so he’d be sure to get a good signal on his phone. Just