“I’m sorry,” she’d said, repeating the apology she’d made earlier. “I only meant to be helpful. And you’re right. Anthony is your son, your responsibility. I’ll do my best to back off.”
The fight had seemed to fizzle out of him at her acquiescence, so she’d gone on to say, “I’m trying, Max. Really, I am. You’re not a kid anymore. And I need to trust you to make the right decisions for yourself and now for your son. But you’ll have to be a little patient with me. Old habits are hard to break.”
“I still can’t believe that you took him to the clinic without my permission. What did you tell them? That you were his mother? “
“I wouldn’t have lied. But truthfully, I hadn’t really thought that far.”
He’d scoffed, and she realized just how impulsive she’d been.
“I can make a hundred excuses for what I did,” she’d admitted, “but I’m not going to do that. You’re Anthony’s father. And you’re right. I overstepped my bounds. From now on, I’m going to step back and let you live your own life—right, wrong or indifferent. Those decisions are yours to make—not mine.”
Max kept quiet all through breakfast, and about the time she’d decided that he wasn’t going to let her go to the clinic with him, he relented.
“Okay, Kirsten. I need you more than I’m comfortable admitting. Maybe that’s why I’m fighting you so hard.” He blew out a sigh. “I’d really like you to go with me—as a second pair of ears—but not as my spokesperson.”
A part of her wanted to back off completely and let him handle it all on his own, but after Courtney had arrived with the baby a couple days ago and announced that Max was the father, they’d both been caught off guard. And together they’d scrambled to buy diapers, formula, bottles and a little bed for him to sleep in.
It had been almost overwhelming, yet at the same time, there had been moments where she and Max had actually been a team for the first time in ages. And that had given her hope that the troubles they’d had in the past would soon be behind them. That they were on their way to becoming the family they’d been before their father had abandoned them, before their mother had died.
Through trial and error, frustration and smiles, she and Max had been learning how to take care of Anthony.
So the baby’s arrival had turned out to be a good thing, forcing the two of them to work together for a change.
“All right,” Kirsten had agreed. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
An hour later, they found themselves back at the clinic, checking in with a matronly receptionist whose badge announced that her name was Millie.
“Just take a seat,” Millie said. “It shouldn’t be too long. You arrived here early today, which is good. We always get backed up in the late afternoon.”
Max shot Kirsten a glance, but she bit her tongue. She’d apologized for bringing Anthony yesterday, but she certainly wasn’t going to grovel. What was done was done.
When they took seats in the waiting room, Max held the baby, so Kirsten picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. She feared that she was enabling Max again by being here, by babysitting Anthony and by offering them both a place to stay. But she couldn’t very well throw out him and the baby.
She’d meant what she’d said about boundaries, though.
So how did she go about encouraging Max to find a job and to help out around the house, when he’d probably see that encouragement as interference?
She stole a glance at her brother, who held little Anthony with stiff arms and a tender expression. Anyone looking at him could tell he had feelings for the baby, even though he’d only known about him for a short time. It was obvious that he wanted to do right by his son. That, she decided, counted for a great deal.
As the door swung open, and a nurse called an elderly woman for her appointment, Kirsten found herself scanning the back room of the clinic, trying to spot the handsome orthopedic surgeon she’d met yesterday.
But what if she did see him? What then?
A man like that was probably only interested in sophisticated, stylish women with high-profile careers and social connections.
Still, each time the door to the exam rooms opened, each time someone in a lab coat walked by, Kirsten couldn’t help searching for the doctor with sun-streaked hair and intensive blue eyes who had consumed her thoughts.
Jeremy was looking over an X-ray of a fractured scaphoid bone in a teenage boy’s hand, a break that had actually occurred years earlier.
Last night, the kid had fallen during a basketball game and twisted his wrist. And since he was still complaining of pain this morning, his mother had brought him into the clinic, suspecting that he might have a serious sprain or a break. But the fall had only aggravated an old injury. And it was a good thing that it had brought him in today. If the original break had continued to go untreated, the teenager might have eventually lost the full use of his hand.
As it was, he would need surgery and a bone graft to correct it.
“Dr. Fortune?”
Jeremy turned to see Millie, the receptionist, standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor, but Kirsten Allen is here again. You know, the woman you were asking me about yesterday?”
Jeremy’s pulse rate spiked at the news, but he maintained an unaffected facial expression. “Thanks, Millie. Where is she?”
“In the waiting room.”
As much as Jeremy would like to go out and talk to her, he had to discuss his findings with the teenage patient and his mother who were waiting for the results of the X-ray.
“Do me a favor,” Jeremy said. “Can you have Kirsten called into an exam room? And then let me know where I can find her? “
Millie’s brow twitched, as if she found the request a little unusual, but she didn’t ask his reason for it. Instead, she nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Jeremy didn’t usually ask for favors, like moving people up in line. But Kirsten had left yesterday without waiting to be seen, and he didn’t want that to happen again. Not before he had a chance to see her and talk to her again.
While Millie went to do as she was asked, Jeremy returned to the exam room to tell the teenager and his mother about the fracture and explain the surgery and healing process.
Ten minutes later, he made his way to room four, which had been assigned to Anthony Allen, Kirsten’s infant son.
He knocked lightly, then opened the door, eager to see the attractive woman again, to get a chance to talk to her. But when he spotted a man in the room with her, his heart slammed against his chest.
Damn. She was married—or at least involved with someone.
Well, of course she was. What made him even think that she might not be?
A
