Chapter 1
Thank God, he isn’t here yet.
Vera Rios swung her steering wheel and maneuvered her Honda Accord beneath the slowly rising garage doors. She glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard; she had five minutes to spare before Darren picked up Allison for the weekend. Vera gritted her teeth in frustration. Damn it. She had not just managed not to leave work early, but she was actually late.
She had primary custody of their two-year-old daughter since her divorce from Darren nine months prior, but “custody,” Vera had since concluded, was a wicked joke, and the joke was on her. Her supposedly “prime time” with Allison lasted no more than a few minutes in the morning before she left for work and a few minutes at night after she returned from work and before Allison went to sleep. The rest of the time Allison spent with her nanny, Teresa, and on the weekends, when Vera did have time, Allison was with her father.
“I’m home,” Vera called out as she entered the kitchen.
“Estamos aqui.”
Vera followed Teresa’s voice into the living room. Allison, her wavy hair brushed and beribboned, wore one of her best dresses and a pair of tiny black shoes with matching frilly socks Darren’s mother must have purchased. The pout on Allison’s face confirmed her disapproval with the thing that waved about her chubby legs. She pointed at her pink skirt. The pout deepened into a scowl. “Dress.” Disgust infused her voice.
Vera set down her tote bag and snatched up her daughter to press a kiss to her cheek. “I know, my darling, but you can’t spend the whole day in diapers and a T-shirt.” Oh, Allison smelled delicious—freshly bathed with lemon-scented soap and mint shampoo. Vera relaxed into a smile, and the tension seeped out of her shoulders. The petty annoyances and endless frustrations of the day did not stand a chance against Allison’s charming antics and opinionated commentaries.
“Mama.” Allison threw her arms around Vera’s neck and nuzzled her cheek. A sunny smile flashed across Allison’s face, the wretched dress apparently forgotten in the delight of her mother’s homecoming.
Teresa chatted on in rapid-fire Spanish about everything that had transpired during the day, but Vera only heard a handful of words as she sank down on the couch. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her entire world condensed into the twenty-two pounds of absolute joy cuddled on her lap. At that moment, all Vera wanted was to hold love close to her.
Love, however, had a mind of her own. Squirming, Allison leaned in to babble into her mother’s ear and provide her own account of the day.
Vera heard “sweet” and concluded that Allison’s lunch was a little less healthy than Teresa made it out to be, but the many delighted references to dolls, books, and playtime confirmed Teresa’s conscientiousness as a nanny. Vera looked up at the older woman and smiled. She could not have survived the chaos of single motherhood if not for the woman who cared for Allison each weekday.
The obnoxious buzz of the doorbell shattered the moment. A faint frown flickered over Teresa’s face, but she had smoothed it into a smile by the time she unlocked the door for Darren Templeton. “Come in, Mr. Darren,” she said in accented English.
He nodded, but his eyes glazed over Teresa to focus on Vera. “You’re still in scrubs.”
With effort, Vera kept her voice cool. “And hello to you too, Darren.”
His Hugo Boss business suit looked as fresh on him after a long day at work as it probably had when he first put it on that morning.
He frowned. “Shouldn’t you change before you hold her? Germs and all that.”
And just for that, she was not going to tell him that she had showered and changed at the hospital before coming home. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t nag, Darren. I know what I’m doing. I would never put her in danger.” She kissed the top of Allison’s blond head. “Daddy’s here.” Please frown or cry or say, “Go away.”
Allison smiled and held up her hands. “Dada!”
Traitor. Vera sighed and transferred Allison into Darren’s arms.
He grinned at the child. “How is my little princess doing? Are you ready for some fun?”
Allison laughed and clapped her hands. “Fun! Fun time.”
Vera tried not to sigh. Fun, go figure. I rush home to spend five minutes with her, and he gets her for the entire weekend.
Darren headed to the door. “I’ll bring her back at six on Sunday.”
Allison kicked her father like a rider prodding a lazy mule. “Go, go, go!”
Father and daughter disappeared down the driveway, and with them went just about every shred of delight and laughter in Vera’s life.
Teresa looked at Vera. Her doe-eyed gaze offered understanding and sympathy. “I go too, Miss Vera.”
Vera nodded. “Have a good weekend, Teresa. I’ll see you on Monday.”
The front door closed behind Teresa. Only then did Vera sigh. Her forty-eight-hour countdown to 6 p.m. on Sunday had begun.
Vera raided the fridge for leftovers and washed down the unsatisfactory dinner with a glass of sangria. After her meal, she lingered at the kitchen table. The lights were dim, and the quiet of the house hung over her like a shroud, dampening her senses and darkening her mood. Her fingers tapped an uneven rhythm on the polished wood.
It occurred to her that she was tired of her own company.
She glanced at her watch.
Two minutes.
She would give herself two more minutes to sulk, and then at seven, she would get up and do something useful, like reorganize Allison’s closet and sort through the clothes her daughter had outgrown. Tomorrow, she supposed, she could cook several large meals and freeze them in small portions for quick dinners the rest of the week. She did not need to worry about Sunday; fortunately, her volunteer work at the Family Health Center would keep her occupied for most of the day.
Vera stared at the digital numbers on her watch as they marched forward through time. All right, almost out of “woe is me” time—
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID before accepting the call. “Hey, Iris. What’s up?”
“Jordan’s sick,” Iris Whitley said. She was another volunteer doctor at the Family Health Center. Jordan, her son, was a quick-witted ten-year-old. “I think I need to stay in with him tomorrow. Can I swap my Saturday shift for your Sunday one?”
“I can handle both shifts if he’s still sick on Sunday,” Vera offered.
“Are you sure? You’d be working twelve days straight if you don’t take any time off during the weekend.”
“And how would that be any different from a residency?”
Iris chuckled. “Well, you got paid then.”
Vera laughed. “Yeah, that’s right. Moving down in the world.” She glanced at her watch again. Oops, my time is up. “Like I said, I can cover both days. It wouldn’t be a problem. Allison’s with her father, and it’s not like I have anything else to do with my weekend.”
“Don’t sound too enthusiastic now.”
Vera could hear the sympathy through Iris’s sarcasm. “Trying hard not to.”
“You need something else in your life.”
She chuckled. “Right, as always. I’ll let you know when I find it. You never know who might come through the clinic—” Other than the usual suspects, of course—the prostitutes, unemployed illegal aliens, or homeless veterans. The Family Health Center was the county’s last safety net for people in Fort Lauderdale who could not afford health care. “Maybe a sexy Brazilian soccer player will stop by tomorrow, and you’ll be sorry you weren’t there to review his chart.”