CHAPTER SIX
By the time Flynn reached the heavy interstate traffic of rush hour Nashville, he didn’t know if he was relieved or frustrated that Sami had gone promptly to sleep and not awakened. Not once had she opened those gorgeous eyes and demanded he turn the wheel over to her. Not once had she noticed that the filmy blouse had slipped free of its top buttons and did nothing to cover the sweet curves of her breasts. Not once did she sit up and roll into her lecture-speak voice. Instead, she breathed in and out, once in a while murmuring and touching her tongue to her lips.
Flynn gripped the wheel and took the exit indicated on the GPS screen. He’d switched the volume off but perhaps he should turn it back on. Maybe then Sami would sit up and do something about the cleavage driving him nuts. Behind him, two of the dogs were snoring. No point in waking them. He left the volume off.
A few more blocks and they would arrive at their destination. Sami’s parents’ home. The houses Flynn passed were two-and three-storied older homes well-maintained. He’d deliver Sami and her menagerie and catch a cab to the Hilton where his assistant had booked his usual suite.
And that would be that. End of story.
Sami sighed and shifted slightly.
Flynn switched his attention to check the house numbers. He had to slow to a crawl as he approached a moving van double parked and hogging most of the street. He waited as an oncoming car passed and then went around the van. Darn if the van wasn’t parked smack in front of Sami’s parents’ house, blocking their driveway.
He parked curbside in front of the van’s cab and switched off the engine. Naturally, the Corgi barked.
Sami’s eyes fluttered open. She turned towards him, sleepy and adorable.
Adorable? Yes, and kissable. Mmm. Whoa! Flynn slapped himself mentally. No point in thinking of Dr. Sami Pepper in those terms.
“Is it my turn to drive?” She stretched her arms in front of her, glancing down. “Oh,” she said, and reached for the buttons that had escaped their buttonholes. “Wait, it’s dark.” She looked out the window. “We’re here!”
Flynn nodded. “You’ll have to move the car into the driveway once that van gets out of the way.” He handed her the key fob. “Guess I’ll be going now.” He pulled out his phone and found the contact for Checker Cabs.
“Don’t you want to come in?” Sami unfastened her seat belt.
“Oh, I’d just be in the way,” Flynn said. “Family reunion and all.”
“The Peppers aren’t that keen on emotional reunions.” She sighed. “There’s something about Nathalie that makes me…”
A sharp rap on the driver’s window sounded. The Corgi and the Lab started barking. Flynn turned his head and in the growing darkness made out a woman, hand lifted to knock again. Wishing Sami had finished her sentence before the interruption, he cracked the door. “Yes?”
“We expected you an hour ago,” the woman said. “Oh, excuse me; I thought you were someone else.” She took a step back.
Sami shifted, muttering something under her breath Flynn couldn’t make out. “Nathalie, I’m right here.”
Flynn cocked a brow. “Your mother?”
Sami nodded and reached for the door handle. “Are you positive you won’t come in? Just for a few minutes?”
Flynn wasn’t deaf to the plea in her voice. Or blind to the guilty knowledge that he had caused her to arrive behind schedule. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal, but the look on both women’s faces told him a different story. “Sure, Sami.”
“Thank you,” she said. She shushed the dogs. “And thank you for driving. I’m surprised Nathalie is home. And I wonder who’s moving. We don’t have many changes in this neighborhood. We’ve had the same families on either side since I was in kindergarten.”
Flynn slid out of the car, Sami still talking. Her mother sure seemed to make Sami nervous. He smiled and held out a hand to the woman still hovering on the sidewalk, glancing at her watch. In the light from the street lamp he saw she wore surgical scrubs. “Hello. I’m Flynn.”
She nodded and gave him a brisk, firm handshake. “Nathalie Pepper.”
Sami came around the car. “Hello, Nathalie.”
“Hello, Sami.”
Flynn waited for an exchange of hugs. Instead, Nathalie frowned. “Whatever are you wearing? That outfit does not look at all professorial.”
Sami shrugged and looked down.
“We’d better let those dogs out,” Flynn said.
“They cannot come into the house,” Nathalie said in a no-nonsense voice.
“Why not?” Sami said. “Why is today different from normal?”
“You may take them on their leashes into the back yard. Come inside. Emile and I need to speak with you.” She turned and headed toward the house.
“How odd,” Sami said. “My dogs are never barred from the house.”
Flynn wasn’t sure what to say, so he busied himself helping get the dogs out of the car. Together, he and Sami led them up the front sidewalk and around the garage. She worked the latch on a gate and shut it behind them. The back yard had lighting around a pool area. Flynn could tell it was a spacious yard for a city neighborhood. They let the dogs off their leashes and the three of them raced around sniffing.
“We’d better go in,” Sami said, sounding as if it were the last thing she wanted to do.
Flynn put an arm around her shoulders, a fairly brotherly gesture. She needed his support. That was obvious. “I like your outfit,” he said into her ear.
She smiled up at him. The light gleamed on her creamy skin. She parted her lips and all of a sudden Flynn forgot about the brotherly arm. He tugged her close and leaned to kiss her.
Floodlights almost blinded him.
Sami pulled away. Flynn dropped his arm. “The place is lit up like a prison yard during a jail break.”
Sami gave a shaky laugh. “Emile’s idea of additional security.” She walked toward the back terrace.
Flynn followed her. Just as well they’d been interrupted. He had no business kissing her. But damn, she had no business looking so sexy and vulnerable if she didn’t want him to kiss her. She knew he was the worst kind of flirt. No, that wasn’t fair, he argued with himself. Sami was vulnerable due to whatever the hell tensions ruled the Pepper trio. Perhaps her father was more of a flesh and blood human than the mother. Just look at his own family. His mom was salt of the earth and his worthless deserter of a father was a dad in the biological sense only.
Flynn followed Sami through the door and almost bumped smack into her. She was staring and gesturing toward the walls and floor, her arms moving in crazy circles.
Given the many windows, Flynn figured they were in a sunroom. Other than the fact that the room held no furniture, he didn’t see anything too odd about it. “Sami? You okay?” he asked.
She whirled around. “The furniture is gone. The plants. The area rugs.”
“Maybe they’re redecorating,” Flynn said. “My mother likes to do that whether a room needs it or not.”
“This room hasn’t changed since…since I was eight years old and we moved here.” She made a face. “Nathalie doesn’t waste time decorating when she can be in the O.R.”
The image of the moving van flickered in Flynn’s mind. Surely Sami would know if her parents were relocating?
“There you are.” Nathalie appeared in the doorway, followed by a tall, rather thin gray-haired man. “Flynn, this is Emile. Emile, Flynn.”
The man advanced and shook hands. “Pleasure,” he said. He extended his hand to Sami and they shook. “Nice to see you,” he said to her. “Flynn, I take it, is a friend of yours?”
Sami glanced at Flynn, somewhat shyly. “Yes. Yes, he is my friend. What happened to the furniture?”
“Emile and I have sold the house. The closing took place today and we must be out within the hour.” Nathalie tapped her watch. “It is most unlike you to be less than prompt.”
“That was my fault,” Flynn said. “I kidnapped Sami and took her on a picnic.”
“Not that we begrudge Samantha enjoying some fun, but today’s timing is particularly critical,” Emile said.
Flynn found the scene unsettling. Sami was right when she said the Peppers weren’t into emotional reunions. But surely these two had an idea what it must feel like to Sami to arrive to find her childhood home a thing of the past? He looked at Sami’s face and could see she was fighting back tears.
“How could you sell the house without telling me?” Sami heard the catch in her voice. She stared at her parents. “That moving van out front—that’s for here. For this house.” She waved her hands around the empty room. “It’s practically a fait accompli.”
“Everything happened at once,” Emile said. “We received a cash offer before the For Sale sign even went up.” He took off his glasses, patted his shirt pocket and brought out his ever-present polishing cloth. “I’m sorry it comes as a shock to you, Samantha.”
“It’s not easy for any of us,” Nathalie said, her forehead pinched in a restrained frown. “Our situation has changed. Emile and I find it necessary to lessen the responsibilities we must manage, and maintaining a house, a yard and a pool are unnecessary drains on our time and energy.”
“But what about me?” Sami realized she sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum, but she couldn’t help the wail and wobble in her voice.
“Life is not always kind or fair,” Nathalie said. “In my work I see patients day in and day out to whom life has dealt most unkind hands. It’s not a matter Emile and I want to dwell on, but he is experiencing some health challenges that require this change in lifestyle. I am sure you can understand his well-being comes ahead of any concerns over where you will spend the summer.”
Sami turned to Emile. “You’re ill?” She shook her head. “You’re never sick.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Despite my reluctance to accept the matter, I have finally accepted that I have been clinically diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. It’s certainly manageable, but I find my energy resources are not what they once were. And the fall risk is such that this multiple story residence is inappropriate.”
“I am so sorry,” Sami said. She lifted a hand and let it fall to her side. She wished she could offer him a hug, but with Emile one never knew whether such a gesture would be welcomed or rebuffed. “So sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“So you see,” Nathalie said, “our situation.” She rubbed her hands together. “Not that we did not take your needs into consideration. We know you’re committed to teach your summer course. We’ve rented a studio apartment for you, sublet from a pair of post-doctoral students. You will have to board your dogs—I see you have three now rather than the two of last summer—but that too has been arranged.” She glanced over at Emile. “As long as they will take the third one.”
“Board my dogs? All summer?” Sami stared from Emile to Nathalie. As bad as she felt for her father’s diagnosis, the flash of anger was too much for her to contain. “The way you shipped me off to boarding school? And summer camp.” She just kept from stamping her foot. “I thank you, but I do not need your arrangements. I will make my own. My dogs are my family and we won’t be parted.”
“As you wish,” Nathalie said. “We’ve left a few things in your bedroom. If you’d like to take them with you, you have just under an hour before the new owners will take possession.” Her mouth twisted. She averted her head. Emile crossed to her side and put an arm around her.
Sami brushed a hand across her eyes and dashed out of the sunroom. Of course this disruption was harder on Emile and Nathalie than on her. But if only they’d told her she could have prepared herself. Communication wasn’t in their DNA, though.
Her footsteps rang on the hardwood floors, echoing in the empty dining room, empty living room, and empty foyer. She headed up the stairs, running a hand on the banister, unable to process that this time would be the last. Of course she was sorry for Emile, but he of all people knew Parkinson’s was not a terminal diagnosis. He’d been a professor of neurology for Sami’s lifetime. Sami had learned about neurology from Emile from the time she was knee high.
The door to her room stood open. The fan lights glowed softly. She walked in. Three boxes sat in the center of the floor atop the faded blue carpet she’d fought hard to have installed over Nathalie’s objections so many years ago. Sami sank to her knees, grateful for the padding, for the only room in the house that did not have hardwood flooring.
No doubt the new owners would tear out the carpeting. Sami ran her fingers over the gnarly fabric. She’d wanted comfort and her room had been her refuge from the scientific order and precision that ruled the rest of the Pepper household.
The white and blue and rose floral wallpaper didn’t show its weary condition in the dim glow of the overhead fan light. But the paper had been there since the week before the carpet was installed during junior high, two years before Emile and Nathalie had announced they were sending her away to school.
Sami sighed, took a deep breath and peered into the first box. She lifted an overly large ceramic pencil holder she’d made in pottery class. She’d given it to Nathalie for a Mother’s Day gift. Sami’s mouth twisted. So much for her long-ago attempt to win her mother’s affections. She dropped it onto the carpet where it rolled onto its side. A Barbie doll dressed in surgical scrubs took up the rest of the small box. Sami made a face. She’d purposely left that doll when she’d moved most of her things out of the house after college. Maybe one day Nathalie would cease to torment her for not becoming a “real” doctor.
She glanced into the second box. The gauzy curtains that had fluttered on her bedroom windows were mounded atop the matching duvet and shams from her bed. She’d take those with her.
Reaching toward the third box, she heard a tap at the door. Sami turned her head.
“Hey,” Flynn said, standing in the doorway but not entering the room.
“Hey,” Sami said. And then she remembered her manners. She rose. “I am so sorry,” she said. “This situation must be so terribly uncomfortable for you. I regret you had to listen to the exchange downstairs and that I rushed off and left you standing with two strangers.”
“Shh,” Flynn said. “Hush.” He strode toward her.
The next thing Sami knew his arms were around her, holding her, his hands stroking her back. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured. “Poor baby. You’ve had one shock after another. Your dad being sick. Your home gone. Your summer plans thrown out into the street.”
Sami lifted her head. What was she going to do? She had to think.
“Let the pain out,” he said, smoothing her hair.
Sami relaxed against him. A few tears dotted her eyes. She sighed and sighed again. “Thank you,” she finally managed and eased away from his comforting arms.
“Want me to carry these boxes to the car?” Flynn spoke quietly.
“Yes. No. I mean I can do it, but thank you.”
Typically Flynn, he bent down and lifted the box with the draperies. “An elf could carry this it’s so light. How ‘bout that other one?” He pointed to the one she’d yet to look inside.
Sami glanced into it. The box was crammed with papers, several batches of envelopes tied with ribbons, and what looked like an old journal. Perhaps the box had been left in her room by mistake. She was in no mood to search through them now. And according to Nathalie they had to vacate the house. “Okay,” she said, giving in to Flynn’s helpfulness. “Thank you. I’m leaving this other one here.”
“What about the um, the mustard colored thing on the floor?”
“I’ll have you know that’s a pencil jar, an original piece of pottery. Created by moi.” Sami brushed a hand over her eyes. Original and rejected.
Balancing the two boxes, Flynn nabbed the pencil holder with his free hand. “Silly me. I thought it was a daisy vase.” He popped it into the box with the papers.
“I don’t want it,” Sami said, realizing she sounded stubborn. And as childish as she’d been when she’d returned from summer camp with the pride of her creation in her hands.
“You can sell it on eBay,” Flynn said, heading for the door.
“Bossy, interfering man,” Sami said to his back.
Sami sat down on the carpet, leaning her back against the wall where her headboard used to be. She supposed they had sold the bed or perhaps the offer to purchase had come so quickly they were shoving the furnishings into storage, to be sorted later.
Maybe the abrupt change was for the best. Perhaps the shock would serve the same anesthetic effect as the swift jerk best used to remove a Band-Aid. But tonight she had to go somewhere and it wasn’t going to be to the spot Emile and Nathalie had thought suitable. She could phone her girlfriends, but she didn’t want to show up unexpectedly with her three dogs in tow.
But she needed her dogs, her four-legged family, especially tonight.
“I’m back,” Flynn said from the doorway.
Sami opened her eyes.
He shook his head, looking like a man who wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. “Look, I hate to say this, but I was asked to tell you they are ready to go and need to lock up so they can deliver the keys. The moving van has gone.” He crossed the room and lowered his lanky body to the floor beside her.
He sat there, not saying anything else. Sami could have hugged him for his silence. She traced the outline of the roses on the wallpaper, ran her fingers over the old blue carpet, and slowly got to her feet. She left the Barbie doll where it sat in the box and thankfully Flynn didn’t ask about it. He stood, too.
“Sami, before we go downstairs—“
“Samantha!” Her name sounded from downstairs, issued by a peremptory female voice.
“Whatever it is, ask me outside, okay?” Sami hurried out of her old room. She knew from long experience that doing whatever it was Nathalie wanted made life more bearable. And right now, all she longed to do was have the house back the way it was last summer. The lives of Emile and Nathalie revolved around their research, their patients and students and they’d never been known as entertainers. But they had no objections when Sami invited friends and more recently, her friends and their children to use the pool and play in the game room.
Sami crossed through the formal dining room, bereft of the heavy drapes and empty of its mahogany furniture. She’d hosted her best friend’s baby shower three summers ago and the table had been piled with gifts.
She walked faster. Her mother called her name again and Sami followed the sound to the front foyer. Nathalie paced, car keys in her right hand, her sensible Coach satchel strung over her left shoulder.
Emile stood to the side of the broad front door, leaning against the frame. He had one hand in the pocket of his khakis and his other hand held waist high against the ivory wall. Sami noticed his hand trembled. She guessed he used the wall to keep it as still as possible. He seemed old for the first time Sami could recall. Emile smiled at her as she approached. “This abrupt departure cannot be easy for you,” he said. “Thank you for handling it so gracefully.”
“I cannot accept what seems like an unearned compliment,” she said. She walked to his side and reached out a hand. Carefully, she touched the back of his hand where it lay against the wall. “You have much more to cope with than a move.”
Nathalie jiggled her keys. “I am pleased that you recognize that. If you had only kept your plans to visit at Christmas, we would have shared Emile’s diagnosis with you. It’s not the sort of thing one drops into a phone conversation.”
Sami frowned. “I only changed my plans when one of my friends held her wedding in St. Croix and I was her maid of honor. I could scarcely refuse.”
“It must have been a very last minute decision,” Nathalie said, glancing at her watch.
“And romantic,” Sami said. “A year earlier they broke off the engagement—but you don’t want to hear about their life.”
“Not right now,” Emile said. “You continue to exhibit a soft spot in your otherwise reasonable worldview for the illusion that a knight on a white horse will ride into your life and sweep you away to happily-ever-after land.”
“All my girlfriends are married now,” Sami said. “I do not find it inconceivable that I shall accomplish the same achievement for myself.”
“A doctorate is an achievement,” Nathalie said. “As is a Nobel Prize. Or a Pulitzer.” She pulled a card out of her scrubs and handed it to Sami. “Here’s our new address. You are welcome to come by any time after this week. We have very heavy schedules and need several days to become settled in our new accommodations. And Emile requires extra rest.”
Accommodations. Nathalie did not say home or house or condo. Sami glanced at the card, read the name and then terms she’d never once associated with Emile and Nathalie: Independent living. Assisted living. Skilled nursing care. “I don’t understand,” Sami said, glancing from one parent to the other. “How could you need a place like this?” She gestured to the card.
“We’re thinking long term,” Nathalie said. “And of keeping the drain on Emile’s energy to a minimum. This summer we have decided not to go abroad and in the fall, he will reduce his teaching load.”
Emile gave a half-smile. “Nathalie is the best patient advocate one could ask for.”
“You’re a doctor,” Sami said. “Not a patient.”
“It is normal to protest an unwanted diagnosis,” Nathalie said. “Tonight, however, we need to attend to closing the house and turning over the keys.”
Flynn had walked up in time to hear Emile chastising her for her happy-ever-after dreams. He’d stood silently, feeling the awkwardness of a stranger caught in the middle of someone else’s family drama. Now he said, “I’ve put Sami’s boxes into her car. So we’re ready to head out.”
Emile glanced from Flynn to Sami. “We? Do I conclude, Samantha, that you have achieved finding your knight?”
Sami blushed. She looked as if she could sink through the floor.
“I answer to friend, sir,” Flynn said, looking the man straight on. How embarrassing for Sami to be subjected to that point-blank question. “Not that I don’t think Sami will make the right man a fine wife. I’m what’s known as a confirmed bachelor.”
“Ah,” Emile said.
“I’ll collect the dogs,” Sami said. “Bye, Nathalie, Emile.”
Flynn watched as the three of them shook hands and for whatever sentimental reason, he was pleased when Emile put his arms around Sami and gave her a brief hug. Then he said good night and followed Sami to the back yard.
He found her kneeling beside the Labrador, her face buried in Shelby’s neck, her shoulders shaking. Flynn stopped beside her. She didn’t raise her head, so he opted for rounding up the Corgi and the beagle and fastening their leashes on. He glanced around the yard, at the pool gleaming in the lights, and even as he visualized the scene as it must have been on a normal summer’s day, with Sami in a scanty bikini laughing and splashing with her friends, the lights shut off.
Darkness blotted out his view of Sami. After a few minutes, he made out she’d risen and was fumbling with the leash clip for the Lab’s collar. He pulled out his phone, and using the flashlight helped her fasten it. She sniffled and thanked him.
Other than her quiet thanks, they worked silently as the dogs were tucked into their travel harnesses. Sami had her hand on the driver’s door handle. “Can I give you a lift? Or are you still planning to call a cab?”
Flynn shook his head and placed his hand over hers on the handle. “Let me drive you,” he said.
She opened her mouth. He could tell she was about to say something stupid like she was fine and didn’t need any one’s help.
He leaned close and put a gentle finger against her lips. “Please?”
Sami gave a sound somewhere between a hiccup and laugh. “Oh, okay.” She started around the car. Flynn followed and opened the passenger door for her. Naturally the Corgi barked.
Flynn slid behind the wheel and started the car. He looked over at Sami. “Do you know where you’re staying tonight?”
She shook her head.
Flynn pulled the car away from the curb. At the end of the block, he turned in the direction of downtown. On his other business trips to Nashville, he’d seen plenty of pampered pooches in the lobby of the downtown Hilton. He liked the hotel, its location and the thoughtful way the staff remembered his favorite suite and made sure to give him the same one every stay. It made traveling so much easier, a bit of home away from home.
“Where are you heading?” Sami asked.
“You can stay with me tonight.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly inconvenience you one nanosecond longer than I already have. And you shouldn’t be driving. It’s not at all like me to have slept so long during the trip here. You suffered that concussion less than twenty-four hours ago.”
Flynn smiled. He figured if Sami was talking in those convoluted sentences she favored, she had to be feeling more like herself.
She was tugging her phone out of her bag. “I will locate a pet friendly hotel and book a reservation for one night. In the morning I’ll decide what to do next.”
“The downtown Hilton is pet friendly,” Flynn said.
“Is that close to your hotel?” She was skimming through her phone.
“Yep.”
“Oh, dear, it’s full.” Sami glanced out the window, then back at her phone. “It’s graduation weekend. Hmm.”
“I have a two-bedroom suite,” Flynn said. “At the Hilton. We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. After the day—and evening—you’ve had, I think you’d enjoy checking in and not having to worry about where you’re going to lay that pretty head of yours.”
Sami shot him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe he should have left the adjective off of “head.” “Two bedrooms,” he said. “You can lock your door. Scout’s honor.”
She put her phone away. Slowly. “I accept. But only if I pay half.”
Flynn shrugged. He figured he’d won this round, though why he thought of it in those terms he couldn’t quite say. The night was young. A city full of bright lights and plenty of places for good times was his for the taking. Yet, as things stood now, he was heading for a king-size bed all to himself.
With a barking Corgi in the next room.
Darned if he didn’t start whistling.