Authors: Theresa Rizzo
Tags: #Family & Relationships, #Love & Romance, #A prequel to Just Destiny
“No bribe. Okay, a little bribe, but first, we’re celebrating. To you.” She held up a sugar doughnut, and Jenny tapped her Bavarian cream against it, as if clinking glasses.
“Me? Why?”
“Michael says
People Magazine
bought your story on Steve.”
“Yeah, they did. It’ll be in the January issue.” She took a bite.
“That’s great. I’m so proud of you.” She looked at Jenny. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Jenny shrugged. “I didn’t want to brag. It’s not like I’m a kid running to Mommy and Daddy with a good report card.”
“You’re never too old to celebrate accomplishments. Families share the highs and the lows. We celebrate Dad’s promotions; we want to share in your good news, too. Next time, it’d be nice if you told us and we didn’t have to find out secondhand.”
“Okay.” That Mom assumed there would be a next time pleased Jenny.
“While we’re on the topic of successes…I have to tell you, you’ve really surprised me these past couple of years. You were right, and I was wrong. You and Gabe are perfect for each other.” Eyes wide and smiling, she shook her head. “It seems that Gabe truly was the impetus you needed to grow up. You’ve blossomed into a responsible, successful young woman, and I’m so proud of you I could burst.”
“Aw, thanks, Mom.” Jenny smiled, slipped off the stool, and gave her a big hug. She’d worked hard and waited a long time to hear that.
“You’re a successful journalist, and then you’ve made this lovely house a home, for not only you and Gabe, but Alex and Ted, and all of us. Anybody who walks in the front door feels welcome and comfortable, and that’s because of you.” Mom poked a stiff finger her way. “And somehow you managed to still be available for Alex and Ted.”
“Yeah, I know it’s the grandkids that really turned you around,” Jenny teased to lighten the mood. Mom was starting to go a little overboard on the accolades.
She smiled softly. “I do love those kids. And Gabe. He’s been nothing but welcoming and caring to us—and his going in to stitch up Dad that Saturday was above and beyond. But best of all, he clearly cherishes you. And that’s what matters most to me.” She pursed her lips. “You chose well, honey.”
“Thank you.” Jenny’s eyes narrowed on her mom. “Now back to the bribe. What’d you sign me up for this time?” She winced. “Please, not some fundraising committee at Michael’s school. I
hate
fundraisers.”
“I didn’t volunteer you for anything. But it does have to do with Michael.”
Mom polished off her doughnut, and wiped her hands on a napkin. She took a long drink of coffee, put down the mug, and looked at Jenny. “Dad has to go to Ireland for a week next month for business, and I want to go with him and make a vacation out of it.”
“That sounds like fun. You should totally do it.”
“Can Michael stay with you?”
She blinked. “You want Michael to stay with us? For a week?”
Granted, he’d be in school, but Jenny’d have to drive him to school and pick him up, then get him to after-school events, make sure he did his homework, feed him, monitor his social time, make sure he didn’t stay up all night playing video games…for a week.
“Or two.” Mom winced. “Maybe three? Would you mind very much? Dad and I haven’t been away alone for years, and our fortieth anniversary’s coming up, and I’ve always wanted to see Ir—”
“Go!” Jenny grinned. “
Of course
, we’ll watch him. Go. Have fun.”
“You should ask Gabe first.”
Jenny waved a dismissing hand. “He’ll be fine with it. Gabe loves having Michael around.”
“You’re sure?” Mom’s face relaxed in relief and excitement shone in her eyes.
“Positive. But are you?” Mom really trusted her to take care of Michael for weeks? Jenny hesitated to bring up bad memories, but she didn’t want any miscommunication, either. “If you’re going out of the country, we’ll need some sort of guardianship papers so we can authorize medical treatment for him or whatever, in an emergency.”
Mom nodded and smiled. “I think between you and Gabe, you’re more than qualified to handle any emergency that might come up.”
“Okay, then. Make those reservations.” Jenny beamed.
They chatted for another fifteen minutes about Ireland, the trip, and the distant relatives Mom wanted to look up, and then she rushed off to pick Michael up and plan their vacation.
Jenny rinsed out their mugs and put the rest of the doughnuts in a baggie. If Mom thought she was responsible enough to care for Michael while she was out of the county, she must be trustworthy enough to have her own kids. Maybe this was just another cosmic kick in the butt to have a baby.
Cosmic kick in the butt? She picked up her phone and opened the calendar app. Three days late. Three days was nothing. She’d been late before. Could be stress. Could be she marked the wrong day. Could be anything.
* * *
Later that day, Gabe rounded the corner and entered the surgical waiting room. Ignoring the quiet news broadcasting from the flat-screen TV and the groups of quietly chatting people and the elderly man reading a book in the corner, he quickly located Caroline Timons.
“Mrs. Timons?” Gabe lowered himself into the chair next to the plump, middle-aged blonde, and faced her. “Peter’s surgery went fine. I’m confident we removed the entire tumor. You should be aware that I did accidentally nick some healthy bowel. However, I inserted a couple of stitches and repaired it right away so there shouldn’t be any residual ill effects.
“He received prophylactic antibiotics during surgery, so I don’t anticipate any extra risk of complications from the additional sutures, but we’ll be watching him carefully for any post-op infection, just to be sure.
“Peter’s in the recovery room now. He’ll probably be there for...” Gabe looked at the wall clock. “Another hour or so before they move him up to his room. You can get his room number from the aid.” He nodded toward the volunteer at the desk. “Do you have any questions?”
“That’s great news.” She smiled softly. “Thank you so much, Dr. Harrison. Will he be in a lot of pain?”
“He shouldn’t be. They’ve given him something for the pain in the recovery room and I’ve written an order for pain meds. He should be comfortable. We’ve also inserted a tube down his nose into his stomach, to help prevent bloating, nausea, and vomiting, which we’ll remove in a day or so after normal bowel activity returns.”
“When will he be ready to go home?”
“About three or four days. Peter’s in pretty good shape, so it’ll probably be closer to three.” Gabe stood. “If you have any questions or concerns the nurses can’t answer, you have my office number, right?”
“Yes.” Caroline stood and gathered her purse and magazines. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.” Gabe whipped off his surgical cap as he strode down the hall, heading for the dressing room. He quickly showered and dressed.
With another couple, Gabe might worry about being sued for admitting making that slight mistake. Technically, he hadn’t had to tell them and chances were they’d never have known. His attorney would probably consider him a fool for admitting it, worrying the patient would be looking for any reason to pin a lawsuit on him, but Gabe felt they had the right to know, and he’d been pissed at himself for being so clumsy.
Gabe nodded to an acquaintance and held the door open for him as he made his way toward the parking lot. He wasn’t God. Mistakes happened, and as errors went, this one was really almost a non-event, but it still irritated him. Though he’d had a crappy morning at the clinic, he was usually good at compartmentalizing his feelings and not bringing a bad mood into the OR.
Gabe shoved the side door open, stepped onto the sidewalk, and headed for the doctor’s parking garage. Maple leaves liberally littered the asphalt, and there was a bite in the air. Gabe lifted his face to the fading evening light. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He might actually get home early tonight.
Gabe fished the Samsung from his pocket as he entered the shady garage. His foot caught on some uneven concrete and he lunged forward. He bobbled the phone between his hands while struggling to regain his balance. The phone hit the cement face down.
Crack
!
Oh, no. No. No
! Gabe bent and picked up the phone. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. The way this day was going, there was no way he could luck out, was there? He turned the phone over in his palm. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Dozens of splintering cracks spider-webbed the screen. Crap.
Maybe he’d just cracked the glass. He swiped an index finger across the screen. Nothing. He depressed the power button on the side. Black.
“Come on,” he muttered. He tried the power again. “Oh, come
on
.” He turned the phone over, peeled it out of its case and removed the battery, then reinstalled it. Still dead. “God
damnit
.” He side-armed the phone against the concrete wall.
The
thunk
echoed loudly in the garage, but the Samsung didn’t spray into satisfying pieces. Gabe clenched his hands on his hips and glared at the useless cell lying on the concrete floor.
Screw it
. He blew out a deep breath, took a step toward his car, then pivoted and stalked over and picked up the dented cell. He’d need to try and transfer the data to a new phone.
Could this day get any worse
?
Gabe closed his eyes and took a calming breath before approaching his car. He circled the station wagon expecting to find a flat tire, but it all looked good. He turned on the ignition—half a tank of gas. Seemed safe. Pulling away from the parking lot Gabe headed for the Verizon store. There went his early night, but he needed a damned phone.
He picked up the phone to call Jen to give her a heads-up he’d be late, glanced at the screen and threw it on the seat. It bounced off the seat, ricocheted off the door, and fell to the floor.
Careful you idiot. The way your day is going, you’re lucky it didn’t break the window
.
As he drove down Harper, Gabe’s stomach growled loudly. He searched the console looking for a power bar. None.
Of course
.
He passed Canton Express. Chinese? They hadn’t had Chinese in a while. He pulled into the Verizon parking lot, relieved to find no wait. Of course not, everybody else was home eating dinner. Gabe got a sales representative right away, bought a new Samsung and then his luck ran out; it was going to take twenty minutes to transfer the data, if they could coax the old phone to life long enough to access the data.
Okay. Gabe walked down the strip mall into Canton Express, ordered hot and sour soup and a Three Ingredients special for himself, and General Tso’s Chicken for Jenny, then added an order of combo Lo Mein. Jen always liked Lo Mein. Hopefully she hadn’t made dinner yet. He considered asking to use the restaurant’s phone to make sure, but the smells made his mouth water.
Most nights, Jen didn’t count on him for dinner unless he called her to let her know he’d be home. He hadn’t called today. He checked his watch. Seven o’clock. He wouldn’t be home before seven-thirty at the earliest. Jen had probably eaten a salad.
It’d been years since he’d had this much bad luck in a single day. Thank God his kids were grown and out of his house. No diapers to change, baths to give, no homework to supervise or kids making demands of him. After this hellacious day, all Gabe wanted was a little Chinese food, to cuddle his wife, and an early bed. Was that too much to ask for?
* * *
Jenny paced to the window for the sixth time in the past fifteen minutes. She looked down the empty driveway. “Where the heck is he?”
At six o’clock, she’d called the clinic, only to find that he’d left in the early afternoon to go to the hospital. A three o’clock surgery couldn’t last this long, could it? And when it did run long, Gabe always had a nurse call to warn her. He was very considerate that way.
Jenny called his cell but got no answer. He must have run out of battery. She made a note to get him a car charger. Certain Gabe must be on his way home, at six-thirty, she started the rice and tossed the salad. She knew not to put the salmon in the oven until Gabe pulled in the driveway.
Jenny wandered the kitchen, alternately looking out the window down the driveway then back to the stove to stir the rice. She opened the Pinot to let it breathe, straightened a crooked fork, and flipped a knife so the blade faced the plate. Crossing back to the window, she tugged at her shirt that seemed overly tight. Had she shrunk it in the wash or had she gained a few pounds?
At seven, the rice was in grave danger of drying out. Jenny called Gabe’s cell again, but it went straight to voicemail. She sent him a quick text. Just as she pushed send, his station wagon zipped up the driveway.
Tail wagging, Ritz trotted to the back door. Jenny hurried to the oven and popped the salmon in. This late, he’d undoubtedly be starving. As the garage door
thunked
shut, she smiled. “There you are. I was getting wor—”
Arms full of a large paper bag, Gabe stomped through the garage door.
Her smiled faded. “You brought home dinner?”
He placed the bag on the counter, took in her dress and makeup, and frowned. “Please tell me we aren’t late to some event I’ve forgotten.”
“No.” She shook her head. “We didn’t have plans. What’s wrong?”
He sighed and went to the fridge for a beer. “I’ve had a bitch of a day. I picked up Chinese food for din—”
He glanced at the table set for two, took in the flowers and china. “You made dinner.”
Jenny moved forward. “It’s okay, it’ll keep.”
He looked at the stove at the pot of rice and the oven, then dropped onto a stool. “Damn it. I’m sorry. I thought you would’ve eaten something earlier. I couldn’t call, my–”
“It’s fine.” Jenny circled his shoulders and kissed his forehead. “I love Chinese food. What’d you get me?”
“But you went to all this trouble.” He threw a hand out.
Jenny squeezed his shoulders and pressed her fingers along his shoulder blades, squeezing hard against the stiff muscles. Poor baby. He was so tight. “Stop. It’s fine.”