Kelly Potter. I still couldn’t quite believe it. It shouldn’t surprise me how she’d shown up today. It was so her. She’d moved across that parking lot toward me like a gentle storm. Her now long hair slipping out of her hair tie and blowing around her face. Her gait slow at first but her steps firm in her resolve to knock me over with her presence. I hadn’t seen her coming—just like ten years ago. Fuck, I couldn’t believe she was here, and it made me think of that night we’d had together so long ago. The best night of my existence. The worst morning of my life.
She’d looked good today. Better than good really. Even without trying. Her fresh face had glowed in the light of the morning. Her hair was longer and thrown haphazardly into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, but I could still see how dark and shiny it was as the loose strands whipped about her face. Her blue eyes shone in the sunlight and rendered me speechless. Yes, drummer girl Kelly Potter at twenty-two had rocked my world, but the woman who stood in front of me this morning captivated me. She was fucking stunning. Yes, I’d thought of her over the years, but nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to the real thing.
I pushed the elevator button for the sixth floor of my office building and thought of her messy hair, her makeup-free face, her disheveled clothes. I should have known something was wrong right away, but all I could think of seeing her standing there was that night, and I tried my damnedest not to think about her or that night or how it ended. Because it made me bleed emotionally. It made me feel weak and flawed and vulnerable, and I fucking hated it.
She thought I didn’t remember her. The truth was, I couldn’t forget her.
I stepped into the elevator, thankful I was alone so I could stew. Stew and think because I was an idiot. She’d come for help, and I’d been cold. Cold because I was good at it. I had ten years of practice. No friends. No attachments besides family. Work. Work was life.
My shock had made me a bumbling idiot barely capable of words. But then she’d laid that delicate hand of hers to her stomach, and I’d seen the soft curve of Mother Nature’s greatest gift and I’d immediately known what she needed. After all, I’d seen the panic etched in the features too many times on the faces of too many women seated across from me in this damn building.
I’d been shocked. And stupid. So incredibly dumb. My stomach had dropped at the innocent gesture of her rubbing her stomach. A slight ache had taken up residence in my chest. Just a pinch. And that had surprised me, too. That feeling. I damn sure didn’t like it. It hadn’t been me. No, I wasn’t the father. I’d let that ship sail. I’d been too entrenched in my grief to think of anyone other than myself when I’d had my chance.
Where was he? The father? Why wouldn’t he be here with her? I’d never abandon her, I told myself. Only I had, hadn’t I? Why was she here alone? The longer I stood there listening to her, the angrier I became. She was alone, penniless it seemed, and scared to death for her baby. I’d probably been too harsh, but someone had to take care of her, damn it.
I realized as I walked into the office that I was a fucking mess. Kelly had managed to completely throw me off my game. I got up early every day, worked out, made my coffee and toast, and got out of the house in record time. Every second away from my little people felt detrimental to their health and sometimes it was.
I tried to breeze past the reception office quickly. I didn’t want to deal with questions when I still had so many myself, but I should have known I wouldn’t be so lucky.
Lucille was like a pit bull with a bone. She never gave up.
“Anthony,” she called out, exiting the small reception area up front and practically chasing me to my office in the back of the space.
I picked up speed, hoping to close the door and lock it before she made it there. I was just about to push it shut when the front of one pointy black stiletto kept the godforsaken door open.
She slid in between the door and the jamb, and I sat at the desk, unloading my bag and trying to pretend like hell she wasn’t there.
She humphed before taking a seat across from my desk, but I didn’t look up. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“Anthony,” she tried again.
“Dr. Jackson,” I corrected her.
I could feel her eye roll, and I felt myself smirk.
“Will you talk to me if I call you Dr. Jackson?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re being a damn snoop.”
She brought her hand to her chest on a heavy inhale and this time I rolled my eyes.
“You wound me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth, young man.” She leaned forward. “Who was the girl?”
“I’m not doing this, Lucille. I’m working.” I stood up and gently grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the chair with one hand and opening the door with the other. “And you’re leaving.”
She paused in the doorway, looking up at me. “Just tell me you didn’t make a mistake. She showed up yesterday, soaking wet from the snow, looking plain pitiful. Just tell me you didn’t do that to that poor girl.” Her eyes were full of worry, and it finally occurred to me what she thought.
I barked out a laugh. “Jesus, no! Of course I didn’t do anything to her. She’s a friend. She needs help.”
And I was going to help her. Because it was what I did every day. Helping Ms. Potter wouldn’t be any different from helping the other countless moms who’d walked into my offices.
She let out a relieved sigh, and I gave her a death glare that should have sent her skittering to her desk at the front of the office.
“Don’t you have a nail to file? Or a gossip magazine to catch up on?” I asked, goading her.
She threw a red-tipped finger in my face. “Don’t you dare. I work hard for my measly wages. If I want to file my nails or read in between patients, that’s no concern of yours. I get the job done.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
“It isn’t,” she argued.
“It is. This is my office.”
“And you wouldn’t know what the hell was going on without me, Anthony. I’m the glue that holds this place together. Besides, let’s be honest, you may own this practice, but this office, it’s mine.”
I laughed at her dramatics, but she had me by the balls there. She did get her job done, even if she did spend too much time on the phone with friends and polishing her nails during work hours. The worst part? The patients adored her.
“Go to work. I have patients to see.” I pushed past her to get to exam room three, but she grabbed my arm.
“We aren’t done talking about this.”
“There’s really nothing to talk about. She’s a friend. Her baby has a problem, and she thinks I’m the man to help with it.”
She nodded. “Where is she staying? What can I do?”
“Tonight, she’s staying at my place. Tomorrow, I’ll have to find her another place.”
She gave me a hard stare.
“Don’t look at me like that, Lucille. I’m working an overnight at the hospital.”
“But you’re not scheduled to work tonight.”
“I am now.” I breezed past her to make my way to exam room three and my first patient, in hopes she’d drop it.
I could spot another question on her lips as I skirted into the exam room and closed the door behind me, a smile already on my face for my coolest patient.
“Ian, my man!” I said loudly, holding my hand up for a high-five. The Filipino four-year-old smacked his hand against my own and grinned at me with all of the innocence of a child from the examination table.
“Sup, Doc Jackson?” Ian went in for a second round of handshakes that the kids referred to as dap that I’d learned long ago so I’d look the coolest. And I was. The kids loved me.
His mom sat in the corner, a small smile on her face as she rolled her eyes.
“Alright, buddy, let’s check you out.” Ian was two months past his third heart surgery with me and he was doing amazing.
“Let’s see those big muscles.”
His arms flexed at his attempt to make muscles. “Okay, guy, put those guns away before you have all the nurses in here checking you out.”
His mom giggled as I examined the rest of his body before finally getting to the nitty gritty. “Okay, show me your superhero badge.”
He pulled open the front of the gown to reveal the thick, long scar that ran the length of his chest.
“Looking good, my man.” I checked the healing wound and let his mother know that everything looked great before heading to my next patient and then my next, all the while trying to keep the image of a glowing, pregnant, blast from the past out of my mind. It didn’t work at all.