his phone to call his PA about taking over for the most part until after Christmas. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a problem. Elise was always bugging him to give her a bigger role in the clinic anyway and she and her family were Jewish. Hanukkah had fallen early that year, so he felt optimistic she might help him out. The last thing he wanted to do was close during one of their busiest times of the year when the people of Bayside needed them most. The closest hospital was in Manistee, about an hour away, so anything he could treat here in town was faster and cheaper for everyone involved.
Regardless of what happened at his office, one thing was for sure.
The next two weeks would be mighty interesting.
BELLE PARKED IN the driveway of her aunt Marlene’s modest ranch-style home on Hancock Street and stumbled inside the foyer, her feet numb and her arm aching from toting her heavy wheeled suitcase behind her. At least the ride had given her some much-needed time to herself to recalibrate. Hard to believe after all this time that he still affected her like no other man.
It made no sense whatsoever.
She’d dated plenty of men in Beverly Hills—rich, gorgeous, successful, highly desirable men. Yet not one of them had seemed to hold a candle to Nick when it came to physical attraction. Maybe because he’d been her first.
First kiss, first boyfriend, first…everything.
And they said you never forgot your first…
No. She shook off those unwanted thoughts and slumped back against the closed door, listening to the lonesome sound of the wind howling as the snowstorm picked up outside and the reality of her situation crept into her bones. She was back in Bayside. She was unexpectedly partnered with Nick again. She was all alone because Aunt Marlene was gone.
Forever.
The tears she’d struggled to hold back since her arrival spilled forth as she toed off her pumps then walked into the living room, spotting all the reminders of the life she’d left behind. There was the lopsided ceramic mug she’d made for Aunt Marlene in sixth grade. And a picture of the two of them at Belle’s high-school graduation. On the wall in the hallway were photos of her aunt with her patients at various local events—the July Fourth band concert in the gazebo on the town green, the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony.
There were pictures of Belle’s parents too on their wedding day. Aunt Marlene had been her mom’s maid of honor. Memories of her parents were blurry and soft in Belle’s mind, like watercolors. She remembered her mother making a birthday cake, her father teaching Belle how to fish for salmon in the Manistee River, their trip to Tahquamenon Falls State Park when Belle had thought the iron-rich falls were made of root beer.
Her heart ached and more tears fell. Her parents had both been doctors too. Family medicine. They’d always talked about Belle taking over their practice someday. Perhaps that was another reason she’d been so torn about choosing plastic surgery as her specialty in college. If she’d stayed with GP, it would have been another link to them, but fate had had other ideas—especially after her ill-fated trip to see Nick in college. Finding out about his engagement and his impending fatherhood had left her feeling untethered, powerless. She’d focused on the one area where she still felt like she had control—her career.
She gave a sad little ironic snort. Seemed Nick wasn’t the only one with control issues.
With the back of her hand, Belle swiped at her damp cheeks. God, she missed her family. Aunt Marlene had been so young, so vital, despite her age and heart condition. She’d always seemed immortal to Belle, even though rationally she’d known someday the end would come. She’d just never expected it to happen so fast.
If only I’d known…
She hadn’t, though, because Aunt Marlene had never told Belle how sick she was. That stubborn, independent streak ran in their family and had reared its ugly head again apparently. Aunt Marlene had always been the type to do for others, yet never let anyone help her in her time of need. She’d not wanted to be a bother to anyone, she’d always said.
Belle would’ve loved nothing more than to be bothered by her aunt just one more time.
Maybe it was being back home again after all this time, but Belle felt at a loose end and was reconsidering everything in her life. Her career, her relationships, her future. Funerals always seemed to bring out her introspective side and this one was worst of all.
When her parents had died, Belle had been a child and Aunt Marlene had made the choices for her. Now it all fell on Belle to pick up the pieces and decide how best to move forward.
Sniffling, she returned to the living room and sank down on the sofa to stare at the Christmas tree in the corner. Her aunt must have put it up before going into the hospital after Thanksgiving. Grief flooded her anew at all the memories of holidays past. The tree glowed with twinkling lights and tinsel and she finally let herself sob for all she’d lost and for the beloved aunt she’d never see again.
Pain and doubt scraped her raw inside. Sticking to her career plans had been a way of remaining close to her parents and Aunt Marlene over the years, even if she’d left Bayside and chosen a different field of practice. Her rational brain said they’d all want her to be happy, but the scared child still lurking inside her feared maybe she’d not done enough to fulfill their dreams for her. Maybe she’d not done enough to fulfill her dreams for herself.
A buzzing sound finally pulled her out of her tears and self-recriminations and back to reality. Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Belle rushed to grab her bag from the foyer and pull out her cell phone to see an incoming video call from Dr. Reyes.
Doing her best to restore some semblance of order to her appearance, Belle tapped the screen. Dr. Reyes’s tanned, perfectly sculpted face appeared. His dark eyes narrowed as she forced a smile.
“Hello, sir,” Belle said, her voice still rough from crying.
“Dr. Watson, are you all right? You didn’t return any of my calls today.”
Belle took a deep breath, forcing her emotions down deep and switching to professional mode. “I’m fine. Thank you. Just tired.”
“My condolences again on the passing of your aunt. Were you close?”
“Yes.” She blinked hard against the unwanted sting of more tears. “She raised me after my parents died.”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing more important than family.”
At least she had the presence of mind not to point out the oddness of Dr. Reyes’s statement, since he’d been married three times.
“What’s the name of the town where you’re staying?” he asked. “Seaport?”
“Bayside.”
“Ah. I come from in a small town myself in Brazil. Five hundred people.”
Belle steeled herself to declare the bad news. “There may be an issue with my return date, sir.”
“What?” Dr. Reyes frowned. “Why? The standard three days to mourn and take care of your
