New York City Docs. Tina Beckett
into large rectangles so multiple people could bounce at one time. The whole thing was then surrounded by a net and rubber bumpers.
“Wait.” He slowed her with a touch to the arm. “You’re not going on there, are you?”
“It’s fine. Dr. Powers said I could follow my normal routine.”
“That looks normal to you?”
“Absolutely.” She gave him a smile and a wave and got in line with Molly, leaving him to head up to the elevated viewing area.
The attraction was busy, and they had to wait until two people exited before they could go in. Then they were climbing up the stairs and onto the taut canvas surface toward the available rectangles. Holding Molly’s hands when they reached the first one, Tessa bounced up and down and side to side, the woman’s hips swinging as the pair did some goofy things.
Goofy to his insides, as well.
Then Tessa moved to the other free rectangle, while Molly continued to jump in the one they’d just shared. To his surprise, Tessa did a test backflip, landing right on her feet. His daughter stopped to watch, eyes wide as she proceeded to execute a series of moves that would have made Marcos proud. She added twists and rolls and capoeira moves that became even more impressive when performed on the elastic surface. Within a minute or two a small crowd had formed in the viewing area, but Tessa was oblivious, the concentration on her face blocking out everything but Molly and what she was doing for the little girl.
In a flurry that reminded him of the last few moments of a fireworks display, when the operators let loose everything they had left at their disposal, Tessa went into a series of arcing jumps that moved closer and closer to the dividing line where Molly was standing, her little body bouncing in glee, her laughs echoing, as with one final leap that ended in a forward roll, Tessa stopped right at the edge of her canvas, facing his daughter.
Murmurs went up from those watching and someone whistled. Tessa glanced to the side, blinking in apparent shock. But she quickly recovered and, holding Molly’s hand, directed the girl to give a little bow along with her.
His chest swelled with pride. Hell, he loved that woman. If he could only get her to see how good they could be together. How good they were together.
They could be so much more.
Their romance from years past had been a whirlwind affair, seeming much like that blast of moves she’d just performed on the trampoline. This time around he had to respect her wishes to go slow, focusing on steady progress that didn’t scare her or make her want to bolt.
Only Clay had no idea how to do any of that.
Maybe he shouldn’t try to plan it. He could just take things one day at a time. One moment at a time, starting with getting through the festival… seeing if she was pregnant or if all of this was a false alarm. And if it was? Would he still want to move forward?
Tessa stepped onto the ladder, making sure Molly was the first one on the ground. She paused to shake the operator’s hand with a smile.
Oh, yes. He wanted to move forward.
The crowd dissipated, and when he joined Tessa he found her holding his daughter’s hand, her cheeks flushed with exertion and enthusiasm. The woman was gorgeous.
And he couldn’t help but lean forward and give her a quick kiss on the lips.
Her eyes registered shock but she didn’t pull away and his daughter seemed to take the move in stride, the way kids did, already talking about what to do next.
“I think I need to take a few minutes to rest, if that’s okay,” Tessa said.
“Are you okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
Molly nodded. “Me, too. Maybe we can get a corn dog or something.”
The rest of the evening went better than he could have planned and when he dropped her off at the brownstone where she lived, this time it was Tessa who leaned over and kissed his cheek. “See you at work tomorrow, handsome.”
His throat tightened as a wave of emotion swept over him. The old endearment had seemed to flow from her lips with almost no effort at all. He forced a smile that he hoped looked more casual than he felt and tweaked her nose. “See you.”
“Well, Mr. Phillips, I guess this is goodbye.”
The elderly patient sat in a wheelchair flanked by a nurse’s aide, Tessa and Clay as they waited for his daughter to bring the car around. He’d stuck by his decision not to undergo chemotherapy, saying that at his age he just wanted to enjoy the days he had left. Tessa couldn’t blame him, but all the same she wished there was something more that could be done.
Sometimes there wasn’t, and you just had to acknowledge that fact. It didn’t make it any easier to accept, and she couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t feel that crushing blow when a patient’s cancer was discovered too late. But at least Mr. Phillips had lived a full life, unlike her mom. He was ready to go and would be surrounded by loving family members. His daughter had even convinced him to consider selling his house and moving back west with her.
“Thank you for being a straight shooter.” He held out his hand, and she shook it, giving it a gentle squeeze. This would probably be the last time she ever saw him. And that was hard.
Clay came forward and also shook his hand. “Make sure you continue doing the exercises they showed you. You want to maintain as much mobility as possible in that leg.”
She realized that somehow Clay had learned the art of compartmentalizing, dealing with the things he was able to fix and pushing aside those things he couldn’t.
Not a bad trait for her to learn, as well.
Like maybe putting their past mistakes in a compartment and leaving them there? Allowing what was here and now to be what she focused on?
Surely they’d both learned from what had happened. She knew she had. At least she hoped that was true.
Mr. Phillips’s daughter pulled up and Clay helped their patient move from the wheelchair into the front seat of the vehicle. Then the door closed, and he was waving goodbye through the glass of the window.
Goodbye, dear soul.
She closed her eyes for a second or two and felt a hand touch hers. Just enough for her to know it was Clay and that he was lending her support.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him, noting the nurse’s aide had already taken the wheelchair back inside, leaving them alone on the sidewalk as the van pulled away.
He moved to stand in front of her. “I know you asked me not to put in a good word for you with Josiah Wesley. Would you reconsider that? He has several residents interested in applying for a fellowship, and I want to make sure you’re in a good position to get one of the spots.”
Don’t overreact, Tess. Stop and think for a second.
Before she could, Clay went on, “I know you can do it on your own, but most applicants are going to have a list of references. I’m simply asking to be one of yours.”
That made her blink. When he put it like that, it sounded much more reasonable. And she knew Dr. Wesley’s reputation well enough that she was sure he wouldn’t hand her a fellowship based solely on Clay’s word, friend or not. She’d done all the hard work in getting ready and making sure she was up to speed on the newest techniques. Clay was just acting as a reference. And he knew her better than almost anyone, despite their rocky past. He knew her character. And that’s what a reference was all about.
So she nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” The relief on his face was almost comical, and it made her smile once again. “Am I that hard to get along with?”
“No. But you are that proud. And I don’t mind telling you I’m damned impressed