The Doctor's Unexpected Family: (Inspirational Romance) (Port Provident: Hurricane Hope) (6 page)

Angela picked up Pete’s blue bag and ran up the stairs ahead of him and Sleeping Beauty.  Pete passed her, holding Celina, and another thing she hadn’t realized she’d missed took up residence in her mind.

Cologne. She hadn’t run across many men who didn’t smell like sweat and drywall dust these days. But Pete Shipley smelled like bergamot and cinnamon. It had been almost six years since she’d been around a man that made her nose want to do a double-take and drink in his scent.

Pete’s neighborhood made her smile and his cologne made her long for a time so long ago she’d thought she’d forgotten it. She couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises she was in for.

Or if coming out here was a big mistake.

What on earth had she been thinking, leaving people she trusted—even though the idea of temporary shelter was precarious at best—to come out to the other end of the island with Dr. Pete Shipley, even if he was Gloria Rodriguez’s boss? She’d battled her own blood sugar most of her life, she could have gotten through for another few days. Things would be better once the immediate stress settled down. Stress always aggravated her condition. Celina was scared of the shelter, but they’d have been together. It wouldn’t have been like the night of the hurricane.

She could have calmed her daughter’s fears.

Or at least she should have tried instead of picking up the phone and calling this doctor she hardly knew and whose smile was a distraction she hadn’t counted on and didn’t need.

Too late now. She’d just have to trust Gloria’s skill in judging people and get a plan together to get out from under this roof as quickly as possible.

As they walked in the door, Angela placed the bag on the kitchen counter. She followed a few paces behind Pete and watched as he transferred Celina to the guest bed. Her sweet girl didn’t even stir as the doctor laid her down with practiced skill.

Angela breathed out and pushed the swirling threads of doubt from her mind.

Celina. She’d done it all for Celina. Good or bad, she thought of Celina first and acted on what she knew her little girl needed.

Just like she’d done for the past six years.

Pete tiptoed across the doorway and closed the plain white door behind him so quietly it made only the softest of clicks. “Now, let’s get you taken care of. One more quick check of your sugar, okay?”

Instinctively, Angela froze. No one ever took care of her.  As soon as she had this sugar mess straightened out, she could take care of her sick daughter—and herself.

Just like always.

Pete followed her lead and hesitated as well.  “Is something wrong, Angela?”

Her response, again, was instinct. She shook her head and held out her finger. “No. Go ahead.”

Pete quickly did all the prep, lanced her finger, and processed the test strip. The machine quickly went to work. His brow wrinkled a bit as he read the results.

“Okay then, why don’t you just sit over there.” Pete pointed to an oversized chair that sat under a bank of windows. “You can put your feet up on the table. Whatever makes you comfortable.  I just want you to relax and take some of that load off your shoulders so your adrenaline can come down and we can help your body get your blood sugar stabilized.”

Angela did as she was told, and sank into the corner of the faded blue chair. She leaned her head back just a little and realized she could see the edge of Provident Bay past the end of the street.

“Really nice view you have here, even in the dark. I love the ripple of moonlight on the water there in the bay.” If she focused on the gentle roll of the water, maybe she could be on the way to following the doctor’s orders to lower the level of blood pounding in her veins and her head.

“It’s the best.” Pete rummaged through a succession of cabinets in the small kitchen. “The house is about thirty-five years old. It’s not really much to look at, and the layout is a little wonky. I think the original owner built a little one-one camp house, and then other owners just added on as they wanted to. Clearly, there’s not much of a plan. Sometimes I feel like the rooms are stuck on like Legos. But the minute I realized I could be on my front porch and see across the way to the ocean or be on my back porch and watch the sun set over the bay at the end of the street, I was sold. When I bought it, I had grand plans to fix up the place, but I guess that won’t matter much now.”

“What do you mean?” She pulled her gaze from the waving of the marshy grasses around the edge of the bay.

Pete came into the living room. “Well, with the clinic closing, I’m hoping to get a position with Mercy Medical Mission and do some foreign medical work.”

“So you’re looking to leave Port Provident and sell the house?”

“Pretty much.” He nodded and held out half a banana and a canister of mixed nuts. “Your sugar dropped back since I checked you earlier today, so I want it to come up just a little bit more. The half a banana is a more simple carbohydrate to bring your levels up a little more. Once we get you where I need you to be, the nuts are some good dense protein that should help stabilize things. We don’t want you to go too high—slow and steady is the best prescription.”

Angela put her phone on the small table beside her, reached for the banana and took a deliberate bite. Pete put the container of nuts on the table as well, and they rattled slightly when the phone began to buzz.

“Angela Ruiz,” she answered, hoping she didn’t sound like she was talking with her mouth full.

“Angela, it’s Marco.” Her nephew, Marco, was the pastor at
La Iglesia de la Luz del Mundo
, the church which had long made up the backbone of the community in which she grew up and was now privileged to represent in city government. “Are you okay? I heard you got sick.”

She knew the lightning-quick speed of the Port Provident grapevine. Apparently, even with the entire island in a state of total disarray, it still didn’t miss a beat. “I’m fine. But how did you hear?”

“Well, that’s why I called, although I’m sorry I’m calling so late. There’s been so much going on today that this is the first moment I’ve had to myself. A man came by with a truck full of supplies. He said he stopped to see you, but you got sick before he could really talk to you. Then some of the others at the tent community directed him here to the church. So, I wanted to make sure you were okay, but also to see what you wanted me to do with all this.”

The truck. She’d forgotten all about the truck of donations. She couldn’t believe herself. When she’d seen the back of that utility truck, stuffed full with goods, she’d thought it was like manna from Heaven. And then she’d completely forgotten about it.

Momentarily, she feared God would think her ungrateful.

That certainly wasn’t it, but she guessed it was time to admit she couldn’t keep track of everything right now. “I honestly hadn’t thought about it, Marco. You know how I get when my blood sugar gets off.  Do you have room to store it all at the church?”

“Well, we did get the carpet and such ripped out of the sanctuary this week, so I had them unload it in that area back behind where the pulpit used to be. There’s food, there’s clothing, there’s household goods, and even medical supplies. It’s truly an answered prayer.”

She could hear the joy in his voice. “I know. I’m glad they were directed to you. I can’t make it to
La Iglesia
tonight, but how about I come tomorrow morning and we’ll make a plan for it?”

“
Bien
. I think we’ll be able to do a lot of good. But I just don’t know what the best approach is.”

Angela didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of having so much when right now there was so little was a bit overwhelming. The old adage said you had to eat an elephant one bite at a time, but when one elephant was all you had, you tended to wish that elephant could be all things to all people.

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“
Bien
, Angela. See you then.”

She disconnected the call and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Pete sat lightly on the edge of the small table. He leaned forward, and when Angela looked, she could see nothing but compassion in his eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong, really. That truck of donated goods from earlier today was taken to the church. My nephew—who is actually older than me—is the pastor, and he needs me to come out in the morning and decide what to do with it all.” She picked up her phone and began scrolling. “But my calendar is out of control tomorrow. I’ve got meetings for most of the day. I thought I could make it first thing in the morning, but I just can’t. And now that we’re out here, I’m also going to have to ask you to drive us back in to town early so I can find someone who can watch Celina for the day.”

“No you’re not.” Pete tapped the screen on his own smart phone and did a few quick swipes. “You do what you have to do. I can meet your nephew at the church and see what all has been donated and come up with a plan.”

“That’s not your job, Pete.”

“My job?” He gave a dry laugh. “I’m a doctor. My job is taking care of my patients. And right now, you’re my entire patient load. So my job is to make sure you reduce your stress so you can keep your insulin levels maintained. Think of it as concierge medicine. They say that’s the next big thing in healthcare, anyway.”

A nagging sense of discomfort poked at her. “No, Pete, really. You’ve been more than generous. I can see why Gloria enjoyed working for you the last few years. But…”

He cut her off, and that sense of discomfort pricked even more sharply.

“But nothing, Angela. I don’t have a job right now, until I hear back on what I hope will be my next opportunity. My time is my own, except for an appointment with a FEMA inspector at the end of the week to discuss some structural things at the clinic. You have too much on your plate right now, and I don’t have enough. I can’t make city government decisions for you, but I can organize cases of water and diapers. My responsibility is to make sure you get well, and lowering your stress is one way to help you do that. I’m offering you two extra hands. Are you telling me you’re not going to take them?”

She wanted to turn him down. She’d stood on her own two feet for a long time. She’d never needed to clone any part of herself before.

But two more hands sounded like a gift right now.

Angela picked up what was left of her banana and popped the last bite in her mouth. She could still feel her sugar levels bouncing around inside like a bobble head doll. She didn’t like admitting it, but Pete had been right earlier. She had to get well so she could take care of the people who depended upon her—an entire district of them.

Plus Celina. Even if she let Pete go do a preliminary evaluation of what had been brought to the church, she still had a responsibility to her daughter.

“I still have to find a place for Celina.”

“She can come to the church. Your family is there, and all your church and neighborhood family too, right?” He reached out and patted her hand. If only every doctor had a bedside manner that was equally decisive and caring.

“So we’re settled?” Pete raised an eyebrow.

“I guess so. I don’t think you’re taking no for an answer.” A wide yawn escaped Angela’s mouth. For the first time in longer than she cared to remember, she felt tired not because of exhaustion, but because she’d relaxed. The thought of tomorrow didn’t completely stress her out.

“Doctor’s orders.” Pete stood up from his chair. “Celina seemed perfectly healthy when I carried her up. I think she just needs a good night’s sleep on a real bed, so she’ll be her regular self in the morning.”

Angela agreed. Her sweet, compassionate girl worried about her mother more than she should. Her first real night of rest in a real bed in more than a week would probably do her more good than all the medicine in the world.

Pete pointed toward a door near the kitchen. “That’s the bedroom. You can stay in there.”

Angela looked around the rest of the small beach house. She didn’t see any other doors.  And the living room clearly gave off a “bachelor who wasn’t home much” vibe.

“But what about you? Where are you going to sleep? You don’t even have a couch in here.”

He grinned, and this time Angela knew the flutters in her veins didn’t come from glucose. “Out on the deck. I happen to know where there’s a pretty good tent. I have an airbed in the closet, so I’ll get everything set up out there, and then my house is your house.”

“My tent?”

He nodded. The white teeth of his smile stood out brightly among the slightly-more-than-five-o’-clock shadow that dusted his cheeks and chin. “Why not? I’ve been camping before. The tent is in the bed of my truck. I’ll just go down and get it. It was easy to take down. It shouldn’t be any problem to put it back up.”

Angela didn’t even know what to say, except that she wasn’t sure she could trust his planning abilities for tomorrow, because his current plan for sleeping arrangements was nothing short of ridiculous. He was really planning on sleeping in a tent?

 “But…couldn’t you just put your airbed here in the living room?”

Angela knew he was a skilled doctor and had a compassionate bedside manner, but as he cocked that eyebrow again, the combination of it and his cheeky grin made her wonder just what sort of man Dr. Pete Shipley really was.

“Look, my allergies are a mess right now with all the stuff the storm has blown into the air, so I snore, okay? If you and Celina want a good night’s sleep, you’ll gladly take me up on my offer and put me out under the stars.”

Angela had seen a lot of stars on their drive out to East Beach, their clear brightness twinkling above the water, undimmed by the sheer number of lights back in the core of the city. But as Dr. Pete Shipley gave her a quick wink to punctuate his assertion, Angela couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t something equally bright about this man who’d literally turned his life upside down and graciously opened his home to help a friend of a friend.

She could see now why Gloria had always spoken highly of her boss. Everyone needed a friend like Pete Shipley, even if the arrangement was only temporary.