A Home For The M.d.. Gina Wilkins
long ago that “family” was a word frequently used without real meaning. Family members—honorary or otherwise—were all too often expendable, in her experience.
Mitch’s steps dragged as he climbed the steps to the front door of his sister’s house Friday night. His mother had given him detailed instructions for letting himself in and disarming the alarm system. As tired as he was, he hoped he remembered her directives correctly. The last thing he needed tonight was to be arrested for breaking and entering.
It was after 11:00 p.m. He’d had a very long day of surgeries, meetings and a pretty-much mandatory appearance at a retirement party for one of the surgical department heads, followed by yet another couple hours of paperwork in his office. His amazing and efficient secretary had volunteered to spend her lunch hour picking up a few things for him so he hadn’t had to wear scrubs to the party, which had been a casual affair fortunately. He now owned three pairs of khaki slacks, three white shirts, a comb and toothbrush, a few pairs of socks and a package of boxer shorts in addition to the two pairs of jeans, two polo shirts and electric razor he’d kept stashed at work. He’d had to wear sneakers to the party because Jean hadn’t risked buying shoes for him.
It amazed him how kind and generous everyone had been at work. Other doctors, nurses, techs, office staff, everyone who’d heard word of the fire had offered condolences and any assistance he might need. His partners had volunteered to cover for him when he needed time to look for a new place and to replace his lost possessions, even though their schedules were all stretched to allow for summer vacations. A few people had even offered extra clothes and household goods. He’d been genuinely touched by everyone’s thoughtfulness.
With a duffel bag holding his entire wardrobe clutched in his left hand, he used his right hand to quickly press buttons on the keypad located just inside the front door, resetting the alarm for the night. At least he had a place to sleep for a few weeks. He would have stayed with his mother, but his late father’s two sisters had already planned to come for a weeklong visit. They were arriving tomorrow and even if his mom’s house had been big enough to comfortably accommodate them all, he hadn’t relished the idea of sharing a house even temporarily with the three women. His younger sister, Madison, was a third-year medical resident who lived in a one-bedroom efficiency apartment, so staying with her wasn’t an option, either.
Moving in here seemed the ideal solution, and his sister and brother-in-law had agreed. In fact, they had interrupted their much-needed vacation to call and insist he make use of their spare room for as long as necessary.
He had planned to spend one more night at his mom’s, but when he’d realized how late he was going to be, he’d called and told her he’d crash at Meagan’s a night early instead. His mother had informed him no one else would be there tonight, so he didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone with his late arrival. Still, he made little noise as he climbed the stairs without bothering to turn on lights. Tiny, energy-efficient bulbs illuminated the steps for safety, providing a soft, cozy glow to guide him to the second story.
After the wedding in April, Seth and Alice had moved from their previous home across the street into Meagan’s house. Both houses in the upscale subdivision were approximately the same size, but this one had a pool in the roomy backyard—of primary importance to Alice. Seth had planned to put in a pool for Alice this summer, but they’d all decided it would be easier to simply settle in here. Seth’s house was on the market now, although Mitch hadn’t heard if it had sold yet.
Mitch hadn’t actually visited this house often, even before his sister married Seth. He and his sisters usually gathered at their mother’s place on the rare occasions when they were free to get together. He knew the master bedroom was downstairs and there were three bedrooms upstairs. Vaguely recalling that Alice’s room was on the left of the staircase, he turned right, arbitrarily choosing the first door he encountered.
He was going to fall straight into bed, he thought with a yawn. He’d worry about unpacking his few belongings in the morning. Opening the door, he entered the darkened room.
He heard someone gasp loudly at the same time his foot made contact with something large and unyielding. Caught off guard, he fell forward, hands flailing in a futile attempt to steady himself, the duffel bag throwing him off balance. His shoulder made solid contact with the hardwood floor, knocking the breath out of him in a startled “oof!”
Lights blazed, assaulting his eyes. He squinted upward. What he saw made him flinch, just in time to keep from being beaned by a heavy, decorative brass candlestick.
“What the—? Jacqui, stop! It’s me, Mitch. Meagan’s brother!” he added in a rush, just to make his identity clear.
Her petite body still poised to strike or run, the woman peered suspiciously down at him. Her short, near-black hair was tousled around her face. With her large, sleep-clouded dark eyes and softly pointed little chin, she looked even more elfin than usual—an adjective that had come to his mind the first time he’d met her a year or so earlier. He’d seen her only a handful of times since, but he’d recognized her instantly when she’d wielded the solid brass candlestick in a very efficient manner. He’d been damned lucky she hadn’t bashed in his head.
She blinked her long, dark lashes a couple times as though to clear her vision, then stared down at him with a frown. “Dr. Baker?”
Shifting warily into a sitting position, he stretched his arm to make sure he’d done no damage to his shoulder other than the bruise he would undoubtedly sport tomorrow. “I’m sorry I scared you. I had no idea you were here. Mom said Alice had a sleepover, so you’d be staying at your own place tonight.”
Jacqui tugged self-consciously at the mid-thigh-length hem of the New Orleans Saints jersey she wore for a nightshirt, revealing surprisingly long, slender legs for such a petite woman. “I was going to, but when I walked into my place earlier I found a leak that must have happened during the storm the other night. I guess some shingles were blown off or something. Anyway, the carpet was soaked, so I called the landlord, then gathered some things in my suitcase and came back here.”
“Uh, yeah. I think I found your suitcase.” He climbed to his feet. Now that he was upright, he stood a good nine inches taller than her barefoot five feet four inches. For such a little thing, she seemed more than capable of taking care of herself, he thought with a wry glance at the candlestick she still held.
Following his glance, she replaced the candlestick quickly on the nightstand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just bruised my pride a little. I’m really sorry I frightened you. I didn’t know which bedroom to sleep in.”
“I was under the impression you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”
“Last-minute change of plans. I hope you don’t mind that I’ll be staying for a few days.”
“Of course not. It’s your sister’s house and she invited you. You have every right to be here.”
She pulled at her jersey again, and he realized abruptly that she was probably uncomfortable with his presence in her bedroom. He reached for his duffel. “I’ll move to the other guest room. It’s across the hall, right?”
“Yes, directly across.”
Moving toward the door, he spoke lightly. “Okay, then, I’ll let you get back to sleep. Good night.”
She remained standing in the center of the room. “Good night.”
He stepped out in the hallway then couldn’t resist glancing over his shoulder to say, “Oh, and Jacqui? You won’t be needing that weapon again tonight.”
Her mouth twitched in what might have been a reluctant smile as he closed the door firmly between them.
Turkey bacon sizzled in the pan while whole-wheat muffins browned in the oven. Sipping her first cup of coffee Saturday morning, Jacqui kept a close eye on the fluffy scrambled eggs cooking in the skillet in front of her. She’d heard Mitch showering upstairs, so she figured he’d be down soon. If he was like most of the men she knew, he’d be hungry.