Found: A Mother for His Son (13 page)

“You do that. Or just stop by whenever you want to. And get some rest, Mr. Charney. You need to take care of yourself.”

“One more thing. Joshua would like to see Max. Maybe when my boy’s home and settled in, Frank or Irene can bring Max by. If the doc is agreeable.”

“I’ll mention it to him.”

Ron nodded, and smiled. But the smile was forced and painful. “I love my wife, Miss Lawson. She’s a good woman and she loves our boy more than you can imagine. But she blames herself, for not seeing…It is what it is with her, and I don’t think it’s going to change for a long time, if ever.”

“I’m sorry for her pain,” Jenna replied, then turned and walked back to the exam rooms after Ron had left.

“I’m sorry,” Dermott said. He was sitting at his desk, making notes in a patient chart, when she walked by the door.

“You heard?”

“I heard.”

“She’s wrong, but how can you fight someone who’s experiencing so much pain?”

“You can’t, which is why Dr. Anderson will look after Joshua. Alisa is entitled to her opinions and forcing the issue in any way just hurts more people…people who don’t need the pain,” he said.

“Will you let Max go and see Joshua?”

He shrugged, but didn’t answer, and Jenna didn’t know if that near-refusal, which was what it was, had more to do with Dermott’s need to keep Max close, or his fear that Alisa would say something. The thing was, if Alisa had loved Nancy like a sister, she wouldn’t hurt Nancy’s son. And Dermott did have over-protection issues going on. But decisions regarding Max were none of her business even if, in her opinion, allowing the boys some time together would be good for both of them.

“Well, if you decide to do it, I can make the arrangements, if you want.”

“Aren’t you going to say something, Jenna? Offer your opinion, tell me what I’m doing wrong? Isn’t this where you’re suppose to tell me that I’m doing what’s best for me and not what’s best for Max?”

Well, the wonderful feelings from last night were definitely over, weren’t they? They’d lingered by the fire until it had died out, talking, laughing, reminiscing, then returned home, finished that bottle of wine together, and parted company in a nice mellow glow in the wee hours. A lovely evening. She’d enjoyed it more than she’d enjoyed anything since she couldn’t remember when. But here they were, back to normal again. It was like the instant they returned to the clinic, the weight of all the problems came crashing back. She felt it, and it showed on Dermott too. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” she said dispiritedly. “Not a word because it’s none of my business. But if you want my opinion—”

“I already know your opinion,” he snapped, then his tone changed immediately. “And I respect it, JJ. But I don’t know if letting him go is the right thing to do.”

“You’ll figure it out, Dermott. And you’ll do what’s right.”

“Sometimes it would be nice not doing what’s right, but what I really want to do.”

“You mean like you and Max running off to somewhere like Costa Rica and never looking back?”

“I’m that transparent?”

“Not really, but that’s the way I would think, and I just took a wild guess.” She laughed. “I hope I’m not rubbing off on you.”

“I hope you are, JJ.”

Before she could react, or respond to that, the bell over the door jingled the entrance of another patient, and so it went for the rest of the day. Several patients came in, nothing serious. And another few called to schedule appointments. Then the day ended, and this time there was no invitation to a picnic in the woods, for which she was totally grateful if not a little disappointed. But after they’d closed the clinic she did agree to ride along with Dermott when he went to bring Max home, promising herself that she’d stay in the truck.

Irene invited her in, however, and actually had a plate set at the dinner table for her. Which made her feel ill at ease. This was the house in which Dermott’s wife had grown up, and here she was being welcomed into it, almost like she was part of the family. It didn’t feel right. “You told me we’d just run out and go back,” she whispered to Dermott as Irene carried huge platters of potatoes and corn to the table. “I don’t want to have dinner here, Dermott. A peanut butter sandwich at the table outside is one thing, but this is a family situation and I don’t feel good about it.”

“I didn’t know they were going to do this, or I wouldn’t have suggested you ride out with me. I know it’s uncomfortable for you. Hell, it’s not always comfortable for me either.”

That surprised her. “Could you make my excuses, and thank them for the invitation?”

“And you’ll do what?”

“Walk back. It’s not that far. Just a couple of kilometers, and it’s a nice evening. I can stop in the diner along the way and have a salad.” And try to reconcile herself to the fact that this was the way it was going to be. The only way it could be.

“They have great burgers,” he said, the hint of a smile creeping to his lips.

“Then I’ll have a burger.”

“And french fries. Oh, and you’ve got to have a chocolate milkshake.”

“If I wanted a milkshake, it would be vanilla. Or strawberry.”

He shook his head. “Has to be chocolate. That’s the only thing that goes with a burger and fries, unless you’d prefer a root beer.”

“Actually, I love root beer.”

“Then it’s a date.” He looked over at the table, at Max settling into his usual spot there, and sighed heavily. “Look, folks, I appreciate the offer of dinner, but I told you earlier not to fix anything for us, that Max and I had other plans.”

Irene looked up, a frown crossing her face. “But you always say that, dear. Then you sit down and have dinner with us anyway.”

“Because I have a pathetically boring life,” he said under his breath.

Jenna laughed, then whispered, “Let’s see how you’re going to get yourself out of this one. She’s fixed enough food for an army and there’s no gracious way for you to walk away from it.” Even though that’s what she still intended on doing.

“And I need an army right now.” He sucked in a deep breath and headed back to the table, but Jenna followed him only to the dining room doorway, then stopped.

“I appreciate your generosity,” she said to Irene and Frank, “but I really did have other plans for the evening, and I can’t stay.”

“You’re not comfortable with us,” Irene said.

“Not entirely. I don’t do well in family situations.” That much was true, she didn’t. “And, I, um…I really think it’s best if I go.”

“You are welcome here,” Irene said, a warm, sincere smile wrinkling her face, “but I do understand. I’m not entirely comfortable with Frank’s family, and they’re actually family.” She teased her husband with a wink. “But, please, know that you’re welcome here anytime.”

After saying her goodbyes, Jenna was all the way down the front walk and halfway across the street when Dermott caught up with her. “Damn,” he said, falling into step. “You sure do move fast.”

“What are you doing?” she muttered. “You should have stayed.”

“And Irene and Frank thought I should go, so they kicked me out.”

“They didn’t kick you out.”

“OK, they strongly suggested that I come after you.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Yes, they did. They didn’t think you should be alone, and they felt bad for creating a situation that made you uncomfortable, so…” He shrugged.

She stopped to face him. “But you didn’t have to do this for me, Dermott. I’m fine by myself.”

“I did it for me, JJ. I mean, they’re good people but sometimes I have to cut myself loose from them.” He shook his head. “That probably doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“It makes a lot of sense, actually. And I think you’re better than almost anybody I’ve ever known in the way you deal with an awkward situation. What I do when it isn’t comfortable for me is walk away, and I admire that you’ve stuck it out.”

“Because they didn’t do anything, and don’t deserve to be hurt. So, how about we go back and get the truck?”

“Then?”

“We could play the truck driver and the hitchhiker?” he asked, giving his eyebrows a wicked wiggle.

She liked him when he was incorrigible. Maybe that’s when she liked him best. “Only if the truck driver takes the hitchhiker to the diner for a burger, because this hitchhiker is starved.”

“I had another scenario in mind,” he teased, feigning disappointment.

“Is it the one where the hitchhiker turns down the truck driver’s offer of a ride and walks to the diner alone?”

“You’re no fun, JJ,” he moaned, turning around and heading back for the truck.

“I might be if I can have some french fries with that burger,” she called after him. “And a
vanilla
milkshake.”

The diner was lively when they walked in. Lots of people crammed into the booths and around the tables, lots of chatter, lots of laughter. They stood outside at the door for a minute, just looking in.

“Chocolate milkshake,” he warned. “That’s the only true way to do it.”

“Then I’m not sure I want to be seen with you, Doctor, because you seem to have a particularly closed mind, and I like to think of myself as an open-minded kind of a girl.”

“Guilt by association, Nurse Lawson. You’ve already been seen with me.” He pointed to the several faces smiling at them. “The secret’s out.”

She laughed. “Will it shock their sensibilities when they see you out with someone other than Max?”

“Probably. About half the people in there have nominated me to sainthood, which I believe dooms me to a celibate life, or something like it.”

“I think they’d take back that nomination if they’d seen you wrapped up in that blanket with me. Nothing celibate going on there.”

“Not fair reminding me in a place where I can’t do anything about it.”

“About what?”

“I believe the correct medical terminology is—”

Jenna pinched his arm to shut him up. “Not here,” she hissed. “Someone might hear you, then…”

“Then what?”

“Then they’d know what we did.” She glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“People do it, Jenna. Surely, that was one of the lessons they taught you in nursing school. You know, it’s one of those natural acts, been going on for years now.”

“Very funny,” she whispered, trying to fight the blush threatening to overtake her. How was it that everything with Dermott turned into something so sexy, like this had all of a sudden? “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I believe it started with a burger and fries.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “And an erection.”

This time she slapped him on the arm, and walked on ahead of him as the waitress led her to a booth near the rear.

Heads turned, of course, as Dermott followed on behind. And about half the people quit talking as Dermott and Jenna walked by them. But amazingly, after the first rush of gawks and whispers were over, things returned to normal and by the time they were seated, people weren’t paying much attention to them at all.

“It’s like a martyr walking to his doom,” Dermott muttered, as he took his seat across from her.

“In your imagination. So, why didn’t Max come?”

“Grandma’s chocolate cake has a lot of persuasive power. And I did ask him if he wanted to come with us.”

“Grandma’s chocolate cake…” Jenna licked her lips, then sighed. “I don’t blame him. My grandmother made the most wonderful buttermilk cake.” Fond memories of better days. She hadn’t thought of one of her grandmother’s cakes in years, and now she craved it.

“What kind of icing?”

“White.”

“You mean vanilla. As in a vanilla milkshake?”

“Because vanilla’s best.” Her grandmother’s vanilla icing had been, anyway. “If you’re not too set in your chocolate ways to give it a try.”

“Chocolate,” he said. One word, and one word only in that argument.

The diner was a cozy place, and it was nice that the people working there were beginning to recognize her as a regular customer. She’d never been a regular anything to anybody before, and this recognition, as slight as it was, did give her a sense of belonging. Just a little. “I’ve had at least one meal a day here since I’ve arrived,” she said, “and I’ve never ordered a chocolate anything.”

“Then you don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Or maybe I do! Which is why I prefer vanilla.”

“There’s nothing easy about you, JJ. I knew that back then, and I know it more than ever now. You’re stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.”

“Because we disagree on which flavor is best?” This was fun. Dermott was fun. Sometimes it was nice being silly over nothing—just putting the important things aside for a while and existing in the moment. She didn’t do that so often…hardly ever…no,
never.
But she was enjoying it now, like she had on the riverbank, especially since she was doing it with Dermott.

“We wouldn’t disagree if you’d admit I’m right.”

“Can I help you?” the waitress asked.

“I’d like a burger with everything on it, fries and a chocolate milkshake,” Dermott said, snapping shut his menu and handing it back to the waitress.

“Same for me, except make my milkshake vanilla.”

“The lady would also like a chocolate milkshake,” Dermott added, keeping a straight face.

“And the gentleman would also like a vanilla milkshake,” Jenna added, her face also straight.

“Two milkshakes each?” the waitress asked, without so much as a lift of a speculative eyebrow.

“For a total of four,” Jenna confirmed.

Dermott let out a low whistle as the waitress walked away. “You are stubborn, JJ. In fact, I think you’ve perfected it to an art form.”

“Does that threaten you?”

A slow, sexy grin spread across his face as he relaxed back into the booth. “I wouldn’t define it as threatening. I’d say it’s more like admiration. A woman who would actually go through with ordering two milkshakes for herself just to prove her point has my attention and my admiration. That is, if she drinks both those milkshakes.”

“You think I won’t? Or I can’t?”

“You know what, JJ? I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”

It was nice having someone express that kind of confidence in her, even if it was only over a milkshake or two. The only problem was, she didn’t have that same confidence. Not in her life. Not in her desires. Not even in her ability to drink two milkshakes. And it always got back to that, even in the nice moments like these. “I think I’m going to go find that waitress,” she said, scooting to the edge of the booth, “and change my order.”