Accidentally Yours (23 page)

There had only been two involvements that had become serious. One had fallen apart during medical school, the other during residency. Preparation for careers in medicine, as well as the early years of work, didn
’t mix well with relationships. All the men he knew who had married while in med school were now divorced, and some were on the second, and hopefully last marital go-round.

Then there was the dollar-sign factor, as he had dubbed the reaction he sometimes got from women who learned about his initials—the MD, not the ZW—and immediately became caught up in the idea of what that would mean for them. If real life was a cartoon, these material mongers would blink, during which time their irises and pupils would be replaced by dollar signs that went
ka-ching, ka-ching
as they imagined the lives of luxury that awaited them if they could snare him. At first he’d found it amusing—he was an ER doctor, not a neurosurgeon—but as time went on he saw it for the insult it was and avoided any woman whose eyes gave that telltale look.

He had been a carefree bachelor for a good number of years now, but he was in no hurry to set
tle down and get married. He missed Austin, of course, since his move out West, but he’d known his friend had been searching for his Ms. Right for a long time. Unlike himself, Austin had always pretty much been a one-man woman, to the point of dating one woman exclusively for over a year, which had given her the mistaken impression that they were moving toward something more permanent. He could still hear Austin’s bewilderment before he’d broken it off with her. “I never told her I loved her,” he’d said. “How could she think we were serious?”

Zack had explained to him that simply not professing love wasn
’t enough to prevent a woman from getting the wrong idea. As weeks turned into months of steady companionship, a woman was going to think they were headed for the altar, no matter how slow the journey. “That’s why I go out with so many different women. I’d rather humble myself by calling after two or three months and learning they’re seeing someone steadily than see them over two consecutive weekends and let them think they’ve hit pay dirt.” On those occasions when he’d been told that the object of his desire was now in an exclusive relationship with someone else, he felt no embarrassment; he just wished her sincere happiness and moved on to the next phone number. There were no bad feelings, and actually he was frequently a guest at the nuptials of former flames.

He had his routine down pat, but he didn
’t quite know what to do with Vivian. She hadn’t seemed particularly impressed with either his looks or his medical degree when they first met, and he liked that. Of course, he told himself it probably had something to do with the unusual circumstances. He’d met women in all kinds of situations and conditions—one time a minor traffic accident had led to a memorable, but brief, fling—but never one who had come into the ER accompanying a date. Her thoughts that day appeared to have been with that dude she was with who’d ripped his hand open on a metal hook, Gary, if he remembered correctly. He still remembered the relief he felt when he learned they weren’t a couple but had just met, but when he couldn’t think of a way to approach her he forced himself to forget about her, telling himself he’d never see her again.

He had considered meeting up with her again on the NBP ski trip a marvelous stroke of good luck, but he had blown it by suggesting she was a jinx when the guy she was skiing with hurt his ankle. The closest he
’d gotten to asking her out was at the Valentine’s dance. The only thing that stopped him was the attention she was getting from Bernard, but when he held her that night as they slow danced he experienced a unique blend of excitement and contentment that he had never had before. He experienced it again while spending those five days at her apartment. The time they spent together talking over dinner and as they competed at computer games ranked among his more special memories of recent months…and kissing her was even higher on the list.

He
’d thought about taking her out for dinner that last night instead of cooking at home—there were plenty of casual-but-nice restaurants that wouldn’t object to the jeans that were the only form of trousers he had with him—but he was afraid of breaking the magic they had inside her apartment. He believed in the old proverb, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ and besides, he’d already made more mistakes than he should have with her, and he was determined not to make any more. He hadn’t even taken her home phone number. He did have her work number, and he’d use it…eventually. They’d both be busy with preparations for their respective safari vacations, just six weeks away, and after they returned it would be time to coordinate their travel arrangements for flying out to Colorado together. That was when he’d call her. He had big plans for that trip as far as Vivian was concerned. He planned to convince her he wanted her and to give him a chance to be the man in her life.

Sure, six weeks was a long time to wait to see Vivian again, but he didn’t want to risk antagonizing her again. This was long enough to let the bad feelings settle, making the situation ripe for him to sweep her off her feet.

And if he felt he absolutely, positively had to see her, he did know where she lived…

Chapter 1
5

Grazing in the Grass

V
ivian was captivated by the family of elephants walking the plain just yards away from their vehicle, two small ones led by a huge one she assumed was their mother. She was awed by the size of the adult animal. Her ears alone were a good four feet wide. The guide was explaining that young elephants often stay with their mothers for as long as ten years. She’d never thought of animals as having families or staying together like humans, at least beyond infancy. She noted it was a single parent family. Had daddy elephant gone after a younger model? How would one elephant even know another elephant’s age?

The elephants plodded on, and it soon became apparent that the family was headed toward a nearby stream. The driver stopped to allow the safari participants to watch the family go into the water and dip their trunks to drink.

“Look, Viv. Giraffes!”

At the sound of Lauren
’s voice she turned her attention to the windows on the right side of the minibus. Their party of eighteen plus guides rode in three vehicles, in which every passenger had a window seat. Two giraffes, their caramel-colored hides decorated by white mosaic designs, nearly blended into the bush. They were breathtakingly beautiful, managing to look almost graceful with their incredibly long necks.

She was five days into what was turning out to be the trip of her dreams, and this was the first day they were actually viewing game. It had taken the better part of twenty-four hours just to get to Nairobi—an overnight flight to London, followed by a connection to Kenya the following day. When their party arrived at the Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi that night they were brought to their resort hotel, where they spent a restful evening after the long trip, followed by a day of leisure and partaking in the activities their accommodations offered: Swimming, tennis, and squash. Vivian had allowed Lauren, a regular golfer, to get her on the course for nine holes. It had taken another day to reach the Samburu National Reserve, the site of their first tented camp, driving over abysmal roads. The distance the Americans in the group had traveled was staggering; they had gone nearly halfway around the world.

She and Lauren had opted to rough it on a tented safari rather than one where nights were spent at lodges. The sight of tents that had been erected by the safari staff, who had arrived well before the rest of the group to set up camp, came as somewhat of a shock to their systems after the luxury of the hotel that had hosted them their first two nights on the continent, but at least the tents were insect-proof, with comfortable cots; and a separate tent with a shower and toilet was just steps away.

And the food was incredible. Their dinner last night, served in a long three-sided tent, had rivaled what she
’d had in fine restaurants stateside. The meat was tender, the vegetables crisp, and the potatoes had melted in her mouth. She could hardly believe it all had been prepared outdoors in the heart of the bush. “These people would probably be miserable if they had to work in the confines of a kitchen,” Lauren had whispered. The setting was as elegant as the food was delicious; tablecloths, china, candles on the table—Vivian suspected they were citronella, to deter insects—and the maitre d’ hovering nearby only added to the ambience.

They returned to the camp for a buffet-style lunch before taking another game drive in the afternoon. There were no real roads to speak of. They drove over the earth, and acceleration of the minibus made the dust fly. Each dual-occupancy tent had accompanying facilities, and everyone was anxious to clean up and perhaps rest a bit before dinner. They had been driving most of the day in search of big game, and no one really realized how tiring it was until it was over. Vivian also wanted to see the sunset, which had dazzled her the night before.

Freshly showered and changed, she stood staring at the rapidly darkening horizon, the sun a blazing orange ball so low she knew it would soon disappear completely, and the sky varying shades of purple. The silvery clouds were partially blocked by the tremendous lone flat-topped thorn tree in the foreground, its trunk gnarled and its wide branches proudly proclaiming it as master of all it surveyed. She snapped pictures, grateful that she could preserve the image of the awesome tableau.

“
It’s got to be the most beautiful sight on earth,” Lauren said solemnly.

“
This is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“
It’s everything I dreamed it would be, and more. The guide was saying how lucky we were to have seen so many animals. The tour service couldn’t guarantee we’d see any, and we saw elephants, giraffes, a zebra, and a leopard. Or at least a leopard’s tail hanging from a tree.”

Vivian laughed.
“And did you see how quick Ken and George got out of the pop top when they saw that tail?”

“
I would have gotten out of there, too. It looked like it was sleeping, but you never know when it might wake up and jump down on them. But it was kind of funny, the way the two of them were knocking each other over to get back inside.”

Vivian was delighted to see that there was another campfire set up after dinner. Last night all eighteen participants had sat in comfortable canvas director
’s chairs arranged in a circle around the yellow-orange fire, sipping coffee and drinks and enjoying the warmth the crackling flames provided in addition to the jackets or sweaters they all wore to ward off the cool weather that came with sundown.

Tonight they again gathered around the fire, and she learned this was a safari tradition. Low square tables covered with dark green tablecloths held drink glasses, coffee cups, and ashtrays. Most of the group came from the US, Britain, and Germany. There were three married couples, a father and son, a grandmother and teenage granddaughter, and eight singles: Vivian, Lauren, and six men. The
group’s ages ranged from fifteen to sixty-four. Vivian was the only brown face among them, but she wasn’t surprised. She knew many African-Americans went to the culture-rich countries of West Africa, and if she hadn’t always dreamed of going on safari she probably would have been one of them.

The following days were a happy mix of game-viewing days at two additional national parks and cool nights around a fire. Their last day in camp coincided with Vivian
’s thirty-fifth birthday, and the vanilla-frosted birthday cake she was presented with that night after dinner came as a pleasant surprise. “How did you know it was my birthday?” she asked the white-clad chef after she blew out the seven candles.

“
Miss Lauren told us.”

She smiled at her friend.
“I should have known. But now I’m kind of glad she did.”

Six of their group had purchased the Kenya Coast Option, which
consisted of three nights and two days in the beach town of Diani. Vivian marveled at the bright blue water of the Indian Ocean. At the edge of the beach, a concrete staircase led to the pool of their hotel. Large, square portions of the concrete had been dyed pastel colors, and the aqua water of the lagoon-shaped pool glistened in the ever-present sunlight, with shade available for those who preferred it, courtesy of a generous number of palm trees at the edge of the concrete.

Despite the prettiness of the pool area, it was the beach where she and Lauren spent most of their time. Swimming in a chlorinated pool was not a big deal, but the opportunity to frolic in the Indian
Ocean might not ever come again, so they spent an afternoon windsurfing and snorkeling before having dinner and exploring the lively local nightlife.

The next morning, which would be their last full day in Africa, they put on shorts and gym shoes and set out on foot to do some exploring. Diani consisted mos
tly of hotels, restaurants, and retailers, but the accommodations were of differing architectural types, ranging from mid-rise structures of glass and steel to individual thatched roofed villas. It was on the grounds of the latter type that they came across a huge boabab tree with a hole in its trunk at eye level large enough to climb into.

“
I’ll take a picture of you inside the tree,” Lauren suggested.

Vivian hastily shook her head.
“No, thanks. There might be snakes hiding in there.”

“
Nah. There aren’t a lot of snakes here. I read that most of them are on snake farms.”

“
What about ants?”

“
You just came off a safari and saw wild animals in their natural habitats, Vivian. You think you’re going to be done in by ants at the beach? That’s like climbing all the way to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro and then being afraid to look down.”

“
Okay, you get in and I’ll take your picture.”

Lauren called out to a young man wearing khakis and with a brass name pin on his red polo shirt, just above the hotel
’s logo. “Excuse me. Can you tell us if it’s safe to climb inside this tree?”

“
Yes, ma’am. It’s very popular with all the guests. We keep a step stool inside. You might have to stoop a bit to have a picture taken, even on the bottom step; but we suggest you refrain from stepping on the ground because of the possibility of insects. Also, a lot of children like to climb inside, and the stool gives them the height needed so they can look out.” He glanced at Vivian. “Would you like me to take a photograph of both of you inside?”

“
Sure!” Lauren said enthusiastically. “C’mon, Viv.” She handed the employee her camera and grabbed hold of the trunk at the opening. “Shucks. It’s too high to climb into.”

“
I’ll get you a footstool,” the employee offered. “Just a moment.”

“
What a great photo this will be,” Lauren said when he was gone.

“
We’ll have to give him a tip for his trouble. I feel a little guilty. He probably thinks we’re guests here, or else he wouldn’t be so helpful.”

“
No problem. A tip’s a tip, whether we’re guests or not. Oh, here he comes. That building he came out of must be where they keep the lawn mower and stuff.”

The young man was coming out of a small structure a few yards away, carrying a flashlight and a folding step stool, which he promp
tly set up in front of the tree. He inspected the inside of the trunk with the light and then motioned for Lauren to go ahead. Within seconds Lauren was inside and was beckoning to Vivian.

She was still reluctant
. “I don’t know. Are you sure there’s enough room in there for two of us?”

“
Are you kidding? This tree is humongous. I think only a giant redwood is bigger, and you can drive a truck through those.”

She reluctan
tly climbed the stool and put one leg inside, balancing herself on the thick bark, her upper body outside the trunk. “Where’s the stool?” she asked, frantically waving her leg downward in the darkness in search of terra firma.

“
Right here.”

She was startled when Lauren grabbed her leg and held it over the stool, but then gingerly slid down, her left leg automatically raising until her right foot reached the step, when she could comfortably bend it to get it inside.
“Ooh, this is creepy. It’s so dark!” Her voice sounded as hollow as the tree bark.

“
I’m not thrilled about being in here, either, but it’ll only take a minute.” Lauren waved to the employee. “Okay, you can snap now. Two with each camera ought to do it, in case one doesn’t come out right.”

He moved the stool to the other side of the massive trunk, where it would not be visible, then stepped back to get as much of the tree in the shot as possible. As Lauren had requested, he took two pictures with each of their cameras.

The moment he began walking back toward them they began scrambling to be the first to get out The more agile Lauren won, getting one leg out on her first attempt. She climbed up and slid out, and although she stood right outside the tree, Vivian felt more uneasy than ever about being inside the trunk alone. She carefully took a step up—the last thing she wanted was to lose her balance and fall in the darkness—and held on to the bark as she lifted her leg, balanced herself and slipped her upper body out.

Lauren had again taken possession of their cameras and was reaching into her purse, presumably to compensate the employee for his assistance. Their posing caught the attention of hotel guests along the path, who usually stopped and pointed with amusement, but she noticed something achingly familiar about one of the two men who had stopped to look. She froze, half-in and half-out of the tree. It
couldn’t
be…

But as he and his companion came closer there was no mistaking his identity, and she remained transfixed as Zack moved closer, until he stood direc
tly in front of her.

“
Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”