those forget-me-nots?” a sleep roughened voice asked.
Annie turned to find Gloria coming to, her cheeks warm with shy gratitude.
“And some lantana.” Annie’s hands brushed the brilliant red and orange umbrella-shaped blooms.
“My favorites,” Gloria rasped, and Annie poured her a glass of water, then held a straw to Gloria’s laugh-lined lips. “How did you know?”
“Delores at The Watering Can might have mentioned it.”
“They’re beautiful.” Gloria’s smile turned serious as she checked the door. “No one’s looking, go check that chart there and tell me when it looks like I’ll be going home. If it doesn’t say today, then let’s do a little fixing until it does.”
“I am not looking at your chart, because I’m not your surgeon.” Plus, they both already knew Gloria wasn’t going home today. Gallbladder surgery was usually an outpatient procedure, but Gloria would be kept for two days because there was no one at home to care for her.
And if there was one thing being adopted had taught Annie, it was that traditional families didn’t have a lock on from-the-heart caring.
Annie placed the vase of bright flowers on the empty table and took the seat next to the bed. She wasn’t just the day’s first visitor. She’d be the only visitor.
“How are you feeling?” Annie asked, taking Gloria’s frail hand between her own.
The older woman gave a tentative smile, her fingers delivering a warm squeeze. “I’m better now.”
Gloria silently watched Annie, as if wanting to cling to her company and enjoy the feeling of not waking alone, but her lashes soon began to slip lower until finally coming to rest on her cheeks.
Annie waited until she could hear even breathing, then headed into the hallway to call Gloria’s sisters in Canada. Being the bearer of good news and giving loved ones peace of mind was a highlight of the job. Witnessing the love shared between family members was always so fascinating and Gloria’s sisters did not disappoint. Even two thousand miles and an international border hadn’t diminished the deep bond among the three older women.
The connection between siblings had always been as interesting to Annie as it had been isolating. She’d been born the youngest of three in Vietnam but raised as an only child in America. She had no recollection of her sisters, but even before Annie had heard her adoption story, she had always felt the absence of her siblings.
Every adoptee had their own story, retold around the family table every Adoption Day. In Annie’s house, Adoption Day was as big a celebration as birthdays or Thanksgiving. And as her family cuddled up on the couch, and her mom opened the love-worn pages of her adoption album, Annie would find herself unable to breathe until they arrived at the part about her sisters.
She didn’t know their names or their ages, only that there were three in total. All with shiny black hair and rich coffee-colored eyes, and all sharing the same dimples when they smiled. And for most of her life, the knowledge that they were out there brought some much-needed solace when the loneliness tucked her in to bed at night.
Was the love of a sibling more powerful than the love of another person because it was preordained from the moment of birth? If so, then what did it mean for someone such as Annie who was chosen by strangers to receive their love.
Annie had always thought that love, in any form, could be nurtured into the kind of unbreakable connection Gloria and her sisters shared. It was why she held so tightly to those in her life, because even when love changed forms, it was still love. Wasn’t it?
After last night, when Emmitt had accused her of being a pushover, she began to wonder if maybe she was willing to hold on to love even when it was no longer healthy. Her talk with Clark had felt anything but healthy, leaving her feeling discounted and used.
And that wouldn’t do. Not unless Annie was trading in her lab coat to become a Professional Practice Fiancée. So after ending the wellness call with Gloria’s sisters, Annie gave herself a stern pep talk and made another pressing call—this one for her own peace of mind.
Clark was the one who said, above all else, he wanted to remain friends. Well, he was going to get his chance to prove himself. And Annie would get her chance to prove that remaining friends with an ex wasn’t only doable, it could be healthy if done right.
Afraid she’d chicken out, Annie stepped into an empty exam room and immediately dialed. Her heart raced faster with each ring, until it stopped cold when he answered.
“I am so glad you called.” His voice was bright and cheerful, as if he’d slept like a king last night. As if she were being silly and the past few months had changed nothing between them, leaving Annie painfully confused.
“You are?” She’d imagined this call going differently. In fact, she’d made a mental list of approximately ten thousand things to do instead of calling Clark—labeling sample tubes, buying doughnuts in desperate need of a home, fixing the leaky faucet in exam room nine—but it turned out she hadn’t needed to.
Annie was about to set some boundaries and, it seemed, Clark was ready to acknowledge them.
“Of course. I wanted to apologize about last night. I got off the phone and felt like a dick. Emotions were high, and I wasn’t really thinking before I spoke. And you called it, there was no patient waiting. I was avoiding the inevitable.”
“I think I have been too,” she admitted. “Last night was an awkward situation, and we both could have handled it better.” Annie thought back to what Emmitt had said. Make it simple, straightforward, and leave zero room for misunderstanding. “But the only way things will start to feel normal between us again is to clear the air.”
Look at her go, confidently putting it out there. No softening or sugarcoating, just stating the facts and clarifying the game plan.
“You can’t believe how happy that makes me,” he said. “I not only felt like a dick, I felt as if I left you hanging. Afterward, I talked with Molly-Leigh, and she pointed out just how badly I’d blown it. I knew I needed to make things right. So I stopped by the post office this morning on my way in to work.”
“Wow, Clark, that’s great.” And it had been so easy. “I thought you’d Venmo it along with the invitation money and cake deposit, which I got this morning by the way, so thanks for that. But if you’d prefer to settle the rest by check, that totally works too.”
It would take a couple more days than she’d planned, and the bank might not clear a check of that size right away, but come Monday, she’d be cuddled on her own couch with a bottle of wine and a large pepperoni and green olive pizza all to herself.
“A check? What are you talking about?”
“The deposit for the venue. You dropped it in the mail, right?”
“What I put in the mail was an invitation to the wedding,” he said as if she had somehow lost her mind. “We settled the venue issue last night.”
“Actually, no. You said it would make things easier if you could wait until after the wedding to pay me back. I said that didn’t work for me. It still doesn’t. I need the money, this week.”
“See, this is what I’ve
