Sister Dear (23 page)

Natalie's pat answer was that the office needed an experienced
tech, she hired who was available, and the state of Georgia approved the work as part of her rehabilitation. Generally, the person who complained didn't say anything else after that.

Today, however, Allie's carelessness had cost her. Natalie was a good employer who'd taken a big chance on a convicted felon. Allie needed to worry about doing her job well and making herself useful. Chasing ghosts from the past didn't have any place in a vet clinic.

Despite telling herself that, Allie couldn't help but think back to when her life was so different. A pang of regret hit her square in the heart. Ten years earlier, she'd put in a shift with her father at the vet office, go home to Caroline, and spend the evening with Ben, or reading journals like the
Lancet
and the
Harvard Health Journal
. It wasn't exactly normal. No one else she knew was quite that focused.

Of course, Emma had called it “obsessed.” Ben, though, always understood.

Pressing a fist to her lips, Allie swallowed a sob. Why hadn't Ben fought harder? Why hadn't he demanded another chance? Why?

Allie closed her eyes and lowered her chin to her chest.

No.
It was all her fault. Such a huge mistake—thinking that she knew exactly what Ben needed, what he wanted, and what he could handle. If she had to do it all again, she would have just let him love her.

October 2006

When the last patient, a feisty border collie, and his owner made their way to the vet clinic's lobby, Allie smiled and headed for the employee break room. Her father had sewn up a small gash on a golden retriever, they'd performed surgery on a Labrador with a bowel obstruction, and she'd given shots to a half-dozen squirming
corgi puppies. The litter, an adorable mess of clumsy bodies and legs, made Allie grin. The dogs' collective yelping drowned out every other sound in the office.

Allie shed her soiled scrub top, balling it up and tossing it into the mouth of her open canvas bag. She pulled the thick band from around her ponytail and shook out her hair, feeling the heaviness settle against the back of her neck. With a glance at the clock, Allie scrubbed her hands at the sink, watching the suds and water swirl to the drain below her fingertips. Thank goodness her mother loved watching Caroline. As a favor, Ben would be picking up Caroline in a few minutes.

When she bent to slip off her shoes and set them on the bottom shelf, Allie ran a hand along the smooth wood, wondering how many times she'd touched this same spot. The break room, cramped and windowless, held only lockers, a small stove, and a noisy yellow refrigerator. But Allie wondered if she would miss it. The office, the animals, even the ugly break room with its outdated appliances.

She'd interviewed with Emory in September, sat through a day of grueling scrutiny from white-coated physicians. Allie had managed to maintain her composure, express her love of medicine, and profess that the school had been, and still was, her first choice. She would arrange schooling and after-hours care for Caroline. Her family wasn't far, she added, and could help on weekends.

Allie reached for the envelope inside her bag. She drew it out carefully, set it in her lap, and ran a finger across the black letters. Her name, stamped onto the smooth white paper. When she broke the news last night at dinner, her father had been ecstatic and talked nonstop, repeating at least five times he was glad she wasn't leaving right away. Ben had hugged her and kissed her head. When her grandmother began clapping, a bewildered Caroline clapped
along and began singing “Happy Birthday,” making Allie grin and shake her head.

Even twenty-four hours later, the acceptance hadn't fully sunk in yet. She'd probably sleep with the envelope under her pillow to make sure she hadn't dreamt the delivery. Right now, medical school still seemed like a foreign country, a place to visit where she didn't know the customs and didn't speak the language. Allie straightened her shoulders.
This is silly.
She knew a lot about wounds and injuries; she'd sewn up plenty of lacerations, and she'd helped tend to the sick.

Allie connected with animals, sensed illness or pain. People, though, were different. People were complicated, with millions of questions and lists of ailments. Would she freeze up, forget everything she'd learned, not trust her intuition?

Ben, on more than one occasion, assured her that these anxieties were normal. In fact, he'd planned a picnic for this evening—just Allie, Caroline, and him—to get her mind off medical school and help her enjoy the remainder of her soon-to-disappear free time.

Allie changed quickly and drove to Neptune Park on the southernmost tip of St. Simons Island. Nestled between the towering white lighthouse and the red brick library, the park offered sturdy concrete picnic tables and wooden benches overlooking the ocean. There was a massive wooden playground that Caroline adored and a huge shade tree that offered respite from the late-afternoon heat.

As promised, Ben and Caroline were waiting. She found them easily—her daughter on the swing set, her dark hair flying behind her as her feet sailed into the air. Ben talked and laughed with each push, no doubt entertaining her with the jokes and light teasing that her daughter adored. Behind them, the sun, tinged with orange, dipped lower on the horizon, causing the sky to glow electric blue.

She stood there, watching, her bag tucked on her shoulder.
They even looked like father and daughter; everyone remarked on it. Both dark-eyed, with dark hair and high cheekbones. Caroline was delicate and bird-like, while Ben towered above her, broad-shouldered and square-jawed. Her daughter's giggle floated through the air—contagious, almost magnetic—and Allie found herself practically jogging toward Ben and Caroline.

“Mommy!” Caroline shrieked, jumping off the swing in delight. She ran to Allie, arms wide open for a hug and kisses.

Ben hovered nearby, waiting, as Allie stroked Caroline's hair and asked about her day. “It was good? I'm so glad. Where did Grandma Lily take you?”

Her daughter chattered away, bouncing and skipping as they made their way to a table near the playground. Ben spread a blanket over the table, set out a picnic basket, and checked on the pile of chilled drinks in a small red cooler next to the bench seat. He handed Allie a bottled water and offered Caroline pink lemonade.

“My favorite,” she said, taking the drink. “Thank you.”

Ben bent at the waist in a slight bow, making Caroline laugh. “My pleasure, madam.”

Allie smiled and swelled with pride. He was amazing. And adorable. How could anyone resist him? She sometimes forgot that Ben was a highly connected and well-thought-of political consultant with high hopes to help to run Sonny Perdue's second gubernatorial term. The job that would make or break Ben's career. It was all he'd ever dreamed of—and he was so close to having that brass ring in his hand.

Caroline and her friend's giggles interrupted her daydream. As they ran up to the table, Ben grinned and raised an eyebrow as the girls whispered back and forth, then looked up at Allie with hopeful faces.

“Can we stay another twenty minutes?” Caroline pleaded, wringing her tiny hands.

Laughing, Allie nodded. “Go ahead, and stay where we can see you, okay?” She waved her hands as they squealed in delight and scampered off, back to the swing sets and monkey bars.

“So much for the big date,” Ben teased and sat down on the bench.

“Oh, that's what this is?” Allie fluttered her eyelashes.

“Hey, I wrangled the night off and drove back from Atlanta—just for you. I spent hours slaving over this sumptuous meal. Only the finest egg salad sandwiches and sour cream and onion potato chips,” Ben said, puffing up his chest with pride. “Oh, and your mom made chocolate cake.”

“Aha! You did have help,” Allie said, elbowing him in the ribs.

Ben crossed his arms and looked serious. “Of course I had help. You don't want any old chocolate cake. This had to be perfect.”

“Oh . . .” Allie blushed, unable to find words.

“Sometimes I can't believe it's been four years.” Ben rubbed his chin, tilted his head, and smiled, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his khaki pants. “I can still see you, that day after Caroline's first birthday party. She was down for a nap—”

“And I was crying,” Allie said. Her eyes filled, flooding her vision. She fumbled to wipe both cheeks, smiling at the memory.

“When I found you, do you remember what I said?” Ben asked.

Of course Allie knew the answer. It was etched in her memory. She leaned closer to him, burying her face in his shoulder. He smelled like fresh air and sunshine.

“That I didn't have to worry. You would take care of me. And Caroline,” Allie murmured.

“And that I would spend every day, every waking moment, making you happy. I didn't care about the past. I love you, and that's for always.”

Allie snuggled closer. “I remember.”

Ben shifted away, peeling his body away from hers. He turned to face Allie.

With a jolt of realization at what he might be planning to ask, Allie trembled. Her hands began to shake.

“We've been together for four years.” Ben swallowed. “And I'm so happy that you've been accepted to medical school, but I also know that we have some decisions to make.”

The sun dipped below the tree branches, painting the sky in crimson and orange. Leaves fluttered to the ground, crisp and dry. Parents were gathering diaper bags and sleepy children.

Ben's words tumbled, end over end, in Allie's mind. But he was smiling. And fumbling in his pocket.

“Will you—” Ben's voice cut through the noise in her head. Ben who loved her.
Always
.

Allie's breath quickened. Her heart thudded against her rib cage.

“Will you marry me, Allie?” Ben said, taking her hand and getting down on one knee.

Around the two of them, the world could have melted away. All Allie could see was Ben's face and the sound of her daughter's laughter.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Absolutely, yes.”

2016

Natalie was adjusting her white Crocs and reheating a cup of coffee when Allie found her at the end of the day. “Before you run, let's chat for a minute.”

Allie nodded and sat down. She couldn't look at the clock. The seconds ticked loudly, reminding her that she wasn't finding any answers.

“So, how's everything going?”

“Today, not so well,” Allie said, owning up to the mistakes. She wouldn't, she couldn't, mention the conversation with Caroline. Her sister's dismissal of Allie's innocence. How much it had cut her to the quick.

Instead, Allie drew a breath. “Natalie, I'm so sorry. My mind just wasn't where it needed to be. It won't happen again.”

Natalie leaned back and looked Allie up and down. “You had a bad afternoon. We all do. How are you holding up otherwise?”

Allie fingered the edge of her scrubs. “It's been a little strange. Most people look at me like I have the plague. Or some fatal disease, like if they get too close, they'll catch it.” Allie sighed. “A few people are decent.” Her eyes welled up. “The rest just ignore me.”

“Okay, I'm sorry. Don't cry.” Natalie winced. “I just want you to know that I'm not upset. I'm happy with your work. And I'm sorry for whatever you've been through.”

“I love this job. And the other . . . Whatever people think, it's fine,” Allie said, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I just care about my family.”

Natalie waited.

“The worst part is that my daughter isn't talking to me. She doesn't know what to think. She was so young when everything happened,” Allie said.

Natalie nodded. “That's pretty normal. Kids think you're the enemy, put on earth for the sole purpose of making their lives miserable.” She pressed a fist to her chin and leaned closer to Allie. “Took our son a long time to realize we were really on his side.”

“I'm sorry,” Allie said.

“Hey.” Natalie shrugged. “There's no perfect family here. Or anywhere. We all have our baggage,” Natalie confided. “Russell has a new chance at life. A fresh start. Now that he's out of that mess back in Atlanta.”

Allie swallowed. Natalie understood the situation.

“I'm glad Russell has you.” Allie didn't want to bring up the editorial, but forced herself to ask, “Did you hear about what happened at Mansfield Academy?”

“The thing from the paper?” She shrugged. “Sure, the gossip reaches this office too. Someone's trying to scare you off, Allie, and stir up trouble. And they're using Caroline to get to you.”

“I'm sick about it.” Allie pressed a hand to her stomach. “Emma finally got to talk to both the principal and the superintendent. They say they're handling it, but I'm not sure what that means. We'll see.”

“Well, keep me posted. And take time off if you need to. Just let me know.” Natalie swept her arm in a shooing motion and stood up. “Go on home. And try to have a good evening.” She smiled.

“Thanks,” Allie answered. “I've got a few stops to make.”

Natalie paused and gave her a curious look. “Good night, then.” She bent down and picked up her Crocs. “Hope you find what you're looking for.”

Allie watched Natalie leave the room.

Me too.

The truth.

THIRTY-ONE

EMMA

2016

The tighter Emma held on to Caroline, the more everything spun out of control.

With Allie home, all of the protection she thought she had built up now seemed made of sand and salt water. Enough time in the sun, and with enough wind, the walls would crumble to the ground. Now, grain by grain, it was happening, and Emma didn't know how to stop it.