I bark out a bitter laugh remembering the ugly scene that played out in Nana’s lawyer’s office. My father’s anger and disbelief had made me feel powerful.
“I was angry too. I’d just lived through that whole sordid scene with my brother and Tamara, and it felt good to have the shoe on the other foot for a change. To be the one in control for once. I became my father.”
A warm hand slides up the middle of my back, coming to rest between my shoulder blades.
“No, you didn’t.”
Her gentle, raspy voice is an offer of absolution, but it’s important she knows the truth.
“I did,” I state firmly, swinging around to face her. “He threatened to contest the will in court and I threatened him right back, told him if he did, I’d call the newspapers and open up a book about our family.”
I remember his shock, which only grew when he stated I wouldn’t do that to my mother, and I challenged him to try me.
“You didn’t turn into your father.” She reaches up to slide a hand along my jaw. “You stood up to him the only way you knew he would hear.” I start shaking my head but she persists. “Tell me, if your father had called your bluff, would you have gone through with calling the newspaper?”
The question startles me. Would I have? I was raised to be wary of the press and the damage they could do to the career of a politician or to their family. I wouldn’t have hesitated in the heat of that moment but given any time to consider, I’m not sure I could’ve done that to my nana’s legacy. She, of all people, did not deserve to have her memory darkened with the family’s dirt.
“Probably not.”
“I knew it.” Her triumphant smile and sparkling eyes make me chuckle.
“All right, smart-ass. I have steaks to go on the grill.”
I laugh out loud at the widening of her eyes.
“Carlos goes hunting once a year,” I explain. “Bow hunting. This is meat from last year’s elk, but if you’d prefer, I can also grill you a couple of portobello mushrooms.”
She has to go on tiptoes to snake both her arms around my neck and I bend down slightly so she can reach my mouth with hers.
“You bought me mushrooms,” she whispers.
“Well, yeah.”
“That must be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Chapter 12
Meredith
“I ate too much.”
I’m grateful for the borrowed sweatpants, because I’m pretty sure my jeans would not have stretched this far to accommodate the quantity of food I consumed.
Jay ended up grilling the portobello caps and both steaks. I was going to limited myself to just a taste of the elk, but ended up eating the whole steak, along with the baked potato and store-bought coleslaw. I don’t think I can walk.
“So that’s a no to ice cream?”
I roll my eyes at him.
You wouldn’t be able to tell I arrived here in a deluge that drenched me to the bone in seconds. I’m sitting back in a deck chair on Jay’s patio, watching the sun go down behind the house. It’s still comfortable out, it’s peaceful here, and if I closed my eyes I could easily doze off.
Other than telling Jay about Casey’s visit while he was grilling, dinner conversation was light and fairly general. I discovered Jay never played basketball—I asked him—but apparently was quite the baseball player. I also learned he likes reading psychological thrillers, deplores fishing, and wears a size fourteen shoe. That last one got my attention.
In fact, I was asking most of the questions and he answered them all like a good sport. However, judging from the way he is looking at me—a smirk partially hidden by his facial hair—I have a feeling those tables are about to be turned.
“So…” he starts and I try to hide my grin, “…forensic pathology and not just medicine?”
“Well, I worked as a family physician for about five years before I made that decision. Went back to school to get my specialization and never looked back.”
That last may be a bit of a stretch, but the truth is, I’m happier now. My life is my own and the work I do is meaningful.
“Why the switch?”
It’s a fair question, and considering Jay has been nothing but forthcoming and open about his own history, maybe it’s time I opened up a little as well.
“I woke up one morning and found my husband dead beside me.”
He clearly didn’t expect that response. His whole body jerks before he seems to catch himself.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were married before.”
I pull up my shoulders. “It was another life,” I explain. “I worked at a small family clinic in the city, led a typical suburban life, and after only a few years of marriage my life had turned predictable. Until, of course, Philip died of an aneurysm. That was out of the blue.”
He leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at me with intense blue eyes.
“So the loss propelled you to make a radical change?”
A logical assumption for him to make.
“Actually, more like the guilt,” I confess. “Philip was a horrible patient. He’d get the sniffles and would act like the world was coming to an end.” My eyes drift toward the river, the night sky turning it into an endless silver ribbon cutting through the landscape. “He complained of a headache and nausea, but I thought he was being dramatic. I gave him a pill, sent him to bed, and the next morning…”
“He was gone,” Jay finishes for me. “And you blamed yourself.”
“Pretty much. I should’ve recognized the signs, but didn’t.”
“How old was he?”
I look back at him, maybe expecting judgment, but all I see on his face is genuine interest.
“He just celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday. I remember he actually had seen his own doctor for an annual physical right around that time and had come through with flying colors. Nothing to indicate there might be a problem.”
Jay steeples his fingers under his chin. “So how were you supposed to know?”
I smile at him jumping to my defense.
“I realize that now, but I was a bit of a mess at the time. It was a way to make sense of what didn’t. Anyway,” I continue when he nods his understanding. “My confidence as a doctor was rocked and I thought forensic pathology would be a direction where I would be more useful. Helping families find answers for the sudden death of a loved one.”
“That’s a good reason.”
His simple acceptance warms my heart and I have to swallow a lump in my throat at the rush of emotions. I love what I do, but at times it gets tiring dealing with negative connotations the general public relates to my work.
I reach out and take one of Jay’s hands in mine. His fingers automatically curl around mine.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being who you are.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“No other way to be.”
I lean forward in my chair meeting him halfway, and with my lips a hair’s breadth from his, whisper, “Exactly.”
Then I kiss him.