My Everything (2 page)

I know she sees Liam when she looks at Noah. Hell, I do. It’s like Liam is living in our house while not actually being here.

“I don’t want him playing.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s a boy and his friends are playing. It’s a natural thing for him to want to play, plus there’s Mason. We are throwing football down his throat.”

She rests her head on my chest, her fingers dancing along my skin. “He can’t turn out like his dad.”

“He won’t. I won’t let it go to his head.”

“You’ll protect him?”

“As if he was my own, Josie, you should know that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I say, kissing the top of her head. She knew this day was coming and I know she was hoping he’d play soccer. We’ll just have to deal with it.

I quickly realize that I’m the only one with a shirt on, so I strip mine off and match the boys. They giggle relentlessly at the white man standing in front of them so I do what any self-respecting man would do; I steal the ball and dribble toward their goal. The laughing quickly stops when they figure out what I’m trying to do and now we have a game.

It isn’t long until it’s time for the children to head to their homes. I hug them all goodbye with promises of another rematch. This is probably the best workout I’ve had since I arrived and something I’ll definitely do again. The bonding is important so that they trust me. I need for them to know that I’m an okay person even if sometimes I have to give them shots.

I bend to pick up my dust-covered shirt and my eyes land on Aubrey. She’s standing in the doorway of the clinic watching us. For the first time I wave and watch in amazement as her face lights up. She waves back and stands a little straighter. I don’t know what I’m doing here. With Josie, everything progressed naturally. She brought Noah in shortly after I took over the practice and I saw how lonely she looked. I took a chance that night and brought them dinner, determined to shower them both with love and affection, not just her. I wanted both of them to be in my life. I was bold then and look where it got me.

I shake the dust out of my shirt, but don’t put it back on. I’m sweaty, it’s dirty and I’m in desperate need of a shower. I take a step forward, not really sure where I’m going, but hope is written all over her face. She wants me to talk to her and I have no reason not to oblige.

She meets me half way, out on the dirt road that is also the children’s playground. There is an air about her, a calmness that surrounds her. Here she is, tending to the needy when she could’ve escaped to the comforts of America.

“You’re not half bad.” Her accent, something I’ve never really paid attention to, catches me off guard. She speaks perfect English, but it’s refined and educated. Not something I expect from a missionary’s daughter.

“They’re trying to kill me.” I say as if I’m out of breath, which is ridiculous because I’ve had time to settle myself. Does she make me nervous? It’s been years since I’ve been nervous around a woman. Not even Josie made me nervous. I was content with her, until I asked her to marry me.

“They were having fun with you. It’s nice to see. Many times doctors only come to work. They do their jobs and retire to their huts for the night and ignore what is going on around them. But you’re different.”

Is being different good? I want to think it is. I never want to go through life being the same as someone else. I’ve always wanted to be unique, genuine. I want to be remembered and make an impression on people.

“Anything to see them smile,” I say and realize that I really want to see her smile again. She’s eye-catching and deserves to be on the cover of magazines. Her beauty is pure and unharnessed and I shudder at the thought of her glamming herself up for an event. I would be one lucky bastard to have her grace my side as a date sometime.

I roll my eyes at the thought. She’s a co-worker and we’re advised not to get too attached because we can switch locations at any given time and with communications the way they are here, keeping in touch is just about impossible.

“Would you like to get something to eat?” I slap my hand to my forehead. That was stupid. Not asking her out because that seemed normal, but the ‘something to eat’ part. It’s not like we can drive down to the nearest diner and eat a decent meal.

“I’d love to,” she responds. I pull my hand away, noticing that she’s not kidding. Her eyes are expressive, telling me that she wants this.

I look around, clearly trying to make restaurants and markets appear out of thin air. I shrug and shake my head. “I think my mouth got the better of me. I’m not sure where to take you.”

She laughs and it’s the most melodic sound I’ve ever heard. “Tell you what, Dr. Ashford, you go take a shower and when you’re done, you can come to my place. I’ll make us something to eat.”

I look up and down the road and start laughing. How romantic will it be to eat in the mess hall of our humble abode?

“Your place, huh?”

She nods, clearly excited. “Yes, I have a very spacious kitchen where we can stretch out and not feel cramped as if we were in a tiny bistro on the streets of Italy.”

I chuckle and give her kudos for her wicked imagination. She gives me an idea and for the first time I think I want to try something.

“Tell you what. You get dinner ready and I’ll meet you in your fancy kitchen, but we’ll eat someplace else.”

She looks at me, fear evident in her eyes. We all know it’s not safe to be out at night, but I would never do anything to put her in harm’s way.

“Don’t worry,” I say as I touch her arm. I don’t mean to, but now that I have I can’t let go. I look from her to my hand and back to her. She’s looking at my hand and I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or pleased. Either way, I have to let go because I’m not prepared to handle the tingling sensation I’m getting from touching her.

“I’m going to go shower,” I say, stepping away from her. I hate leaving her in the middle of the road, but if I stay, I fear verbal vomit will get the best of me and I don’t want to scare her off. I’m scared enough for the both of us.

Chapter 2

The cold water is a welcome reprieve. For the most part, I enjoy the cold trickle, but there are times when a hot shower would do to ease my aches and pains. Hot water is a rare luxury around here. Before I arrived, I spent a week in a hotel in Florida on the beach. This was the hotel where Josie and I were supposed to go on vacation. The night before we were to leave, we fought. It was the first time since we'd been together that I was glad that Noah wasn’t there. I needed to say some things and didn’t want him to hear me.

Instead of us packing for our vacation, we were breaking up. I was breaking us up, beating her to the inevitable. I have no doubt she would’ve stayed with me out of obligation, but I couldn’t put her in that position. In the back of my mind, she would’ve cheated and that is the one thing I couldn’t live with. I know her that well to know she was second-guessing us. 

Once Mason passed away I knew things would change. I fully expected to step-up and help Katelyn with the girls. What I didn’t expect was for Liam to return. I would’ve never thought that he kept tabs on everyone, or even read the paper. What were the chances that he read it the day after Mason was killed?

I work my neck muscles under the water. I want to stop thinking about my life in Beaumont. I don’t want to know what’s going on there. How Peyton and Elle are doing and whether Katelyn has taken them to see a therapist. They need it, whether she is willing to admit it or not. She needs it too. She spent far too much time consoling Josie than she did dealing with her husband’s death. I chide myself for not sticking around at least for her and the twins.

I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. There is no need to dry off; the heat will do the job. My clothes selection is limited, but given that I live in a dust bowl and an oven, the fewer clothes the better. Except for the bugs. I could do without the killer mosquitoes and constantly sleeping under a net.

I dress quickly again in khaki shorts and opt for a black dress shirt. I don’t know why I brought it, it’s not like I have fancy dinners or meetings to attend. The dress attire here is causal and relaxed. No stuffy doctors coats or gaudy nurses uniforms staring at us all day.

I run down to our reading room and grab the small card table and two folding chairs and take them out back. We have a small deck area, but nothing to sit on. I set up the table and chairs, wishing I had a candle or a vase of flowers to add to the ambiance. This will have to do.

Aubrey is standing in the kitchen with two plates and two glasses of water in front of her. Her grin is infectious and I can’t help the wide smile that cracks over my own face. My stride is quick as I make my way to where she’s standing and even though she’s in shorts and t-shirt, similar to what she wore today to work, I take in all of her.

I pick up the plates of food and signal for her to follow me outside. She gasps when we step outside. I know it’s not much and if we were home I could offer her better, but we’re here and I’m trying to make this the best first date either of us are going to have in Africa.

First date? Did I mean to call what we are doing here tonight a date? Many colleagues meet and have tea or share a dinner. Why classify what we are doing as a date? Is it because deep down this is what I want?

Setting the plates down, I pull out the chair for her and help her scoot under the table. I watch as she puts the napkin on her lap. I sit across from her and do the same. Everything feels comfortable, like she and I have been doing this for years, yet I know nothing about her.

“So, Dr. Ashford, how are you liking Africa?” she doesn’t waste any time. I thought we’d eat a bit before we delved into personal talk.

I rest my arms on the table and look at her so she knows I’m giving her my full attention.

“Please, call me Nick and I like it here, for the most part. There are things that I miss from home like air conditioning…” I laugh. “I miss other things too, but nothing material. What about you? This has to be different from South Africa.”

Aubrey sets her spoon down and puts her hands in her lap. “My parents, they wanted the best for me. They may be missionaries and I went to boarding school, but I spent my summers in their camps. They wanted me to experience both worlds and decide for myself what I wanted to do.”

“And what did you decide?”

“I haven’t yet. I’m supposed to start college in the fall. I’ve taken a year off to volunteer.”

The world college catches my attention. I mentally take a step back. I never gave age a consideration. I know I’ve checked out of the conversation. She’s still talking, but I don’t hear a world she’s saying.

 Her fingers snap in front of my face. I have to blink a few times to bring myself back into this realm.

“Is it something I said?”

“No,” I lie.

“Okay.” I can see the hurt on her face and I feel like a total shit. What the hell is wrong with me? Here I am sitting across from a beautiful woman and I’m worried about her age. Why does that even matter?

“Aubrey, I’m sorry. I was taken aback by your college remark.”

“Oh.” I can’t tell if she’s relieved or just accepting that I’m nothing but a jerk.

“Can I ask how old you are?”

Aubrey takes a drink of her water. There’s a wicked glint in her when she puts her glass down.

“I’m twenty-one and have probably seen and experienced more in my lifetime than you ever will.”

“You’re right,” I say.

I need to fix this. I need to stop being stupid and letting something as trivial as age affect me. I throw my napkin down on the table and push my chair back. Her face falls and it’s in that moment that I know I can do this. That is what I tell myself as I reach for the plates. I can be a man and start living my life whether it's here or back home. I can live with my turmoil toward Noah while letting my life take a different course. Is that course with Aubrey? I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t like the way she looked when I stood up.

“I’m not very hungry. Would you like to go for a walk?”

She looks up at me and nods. We clean up our mess, washing and putting away our dishes and make our way out of the dorm. We walk to the edge of the compound and as much as I’d love to leave, we don’t. There is enough to explore without compromising our safety.

 I direct us toward the playground. The children are all in for the night so we have some privacy. She sits on the swing and I take this opportunity to stand behind her. I push her gently and watch as she sways back and forth. I remember doing this with Noah when he was little, teaching him how to pump his legs in and out. He outgrew swinging the moment he picked up a football. I saw the talent in him, but wanted to ignore it. I didn’t want Josie having to deal with what she hated most in her life, but as his parents, we couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. I did the next best thing and started coaching Noah and instilled as many values as I could.

“I’m sorry for my reaction back there. I’m here… I’m here because my fiancée and I broke up and this was the best way for me to deal with it. Initially, I had hoped she was going to come with me, but things didn’t work out that way.”

“Are you still in love with her?” Aubrey’s voice is quiet, serene.

I think about her question and roll it over in my head. Am I still in love with Josie? I don’t know.

I never thought I’d see her again. We didn’t stay in touch when I went off to college, not that we had any reason to, but it would’ve been nice. I look down at the chart in my hand and see the name, Noah. I look back at her, she smiles weakly as the toddler in her arms cries uncontrollably. She looks tired and rightfully so.

“Josephine, it’s good to see you.” I say in my doctor voice. I had such a crush on her in high school, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day. She was always with Liam Westbury even though she could do so much better than him.