One Hot Doctor by Sarah J. Brooks

Chapter 20

Thomas

“Thank you, Dr. Clarkson,” Jenna Smith says with a smile as she closes the door.

“Bye.” My cheer and smile are forced unlike hers, which is genuine as we’ve just confirmed her pregnancy. She’s rushing home to share it with her husband, who was traveling and is arriving back home today.

I find myself missing Cora. We haven’t spoken since last evening.

I glance at my watch. It’s almost one o’clock, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. As if on cue, my phone rings, and instantly my mood is lifted. I look at it and swallow my disappointment. My sister has an uncanny habit of calling when I’m hoping that the caller is Cora. I pick up the call, and we exchange pleasantries.

“How is Cora’s friend doing?” Fran asks.

I draw a blank. “What are you talking about?”

She’s silent for a few seconds, and that’s a big deal for Fran as she never lacks something to say.

“What kind of relationship do you two have? No, don’t answer that. Are you free? I’m just coming off my shift.”

I don’t want the grilling that I know will come, but it’s better than having lunch alone. “My next appointment is not until later. Let’s have lunch in the café downstairs. I’ll buy.”

I update client records, and half an hour later, I shut down my computer and head downstairs to meet Fran. She’s not there yet, and I order some water and wait.

She comes in five minutes later, looking rushed and tired. Even a smile doesn’t take away the exhaustion on her face.

“You look tired. Shouldn’t you take time off?” I tell her when we sit down across from each other.

She laughs a little. “Don’t be another Martin. I’d rather be working. Staying home will drive me crazy as I think of all the things that could be going wrong with my baby.”

I nod in understanding. That’s one of the hazards that come with her job as a midwife. She’s too aware of the myriad of things that can go wrong with a pregnancy.

“Maybe take fewer shifts?”

“Now that’s a good suggestion. I’ll see what I can do.”

The server comes by, and we order sandwiches, a coffee for me, and iced tea for Fran. When she leaves, Fran looks at me shrewdly.

“When was the last time you spoke to Cora?”

“We texted last evening.” My tone is a little defensive.

“What’s going on with you two? First, you don’t tell Cora that you’ll be out of town, and then she doesn’t tell you that her friend almost had a miscarriage?”

I sit up with a jolt. “Which friend?”

“Riley. She was in the hospital all of yesterday, but she’s okay now. Her body had gone into premature labor.”

“Very premature.” My heart goes out to Riley. A threatened miscarriage is a traumatizing event, and the rest of her pregnancy is going to have to be closely monitored.

She offers a few more details, and as she speaks, I feel a little hurt. I can’t believe that Cora told all that to my sister and didn’t share it with me. I should be glad that I’ve managed to keep a distance between us, but I feel rejected. It doesn’t make sense.

The server carries over a tray bearing our food and drinks.

I bite into my sandwich, and for the next couple of minutes, Fran and I don’t speak as we concentrate on filling our bellies. That’s the advantage of having lunch with a sibling. If you just need to eat and not talk, you do that without looking like a mannerless pig.

We resume talking when we finish eating and are sipping our drinks.

“The last time when you took off, I assumed you’d had a fight,” Fran says. “What is it this time?”

I look at her, and it dawns on me that I don’t have an explanation apart from the truth. And I find myself telling Fran the truth about my and Cora’s relationship.

“We’re not engaged, and neither are we in love,” I tell Fran.

A look of confusion comes over her features. She leans forward and folds her hands on the table in a gesture that reminds me of my mother. “I don’t get it.”

The whole sorry embarrassing tale comes out. Fran stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing.” She looks away and then stares back at me. “No, I’ve seen how you two look at each other and how you talk about each other. That’s love.”

I shrug. “Don’t confuse physical attraction for love. That’s what Cora and I are about.”

Fran makes a face. “Eew. Don’t put images in my mind that might stay there forever.” She shakes her head again. “As stupid as that explanation is, it makes sense now.”

“She was pregnant, and I didn’t want to be in a real relationship. She didn’t either, for your information, but it worked out in the end. I get to be a dad, and she gets to have the baby she’s always wanted.”

“Mom and Dad will be so disappointed,” Fran says.

A stab of worry goes through me. “You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

“No,” she says, “but they’ll have to know at some point.”

“No, they don’t. A couple of weeks after the baby is born, I’ll tell them that Cora and I broke up, but we’ll raise the baby together.”

She stares at me. “Unbelievable.”

Fran’s phone rings, and after a glance at the screen, she turns to me. “I have to take this one.”

As she whispers into the phone, an overwhelming urge to hear from Cora comes over me. I fish my phone from my pocket and type out a message to her. I’ve missed her, and I want to be there for her.

Memories from the past come over me, and I recall what an asshole I’d been after Tessa passed. I wasn’t there for her, and that is something that I have to live with. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.

I ask her if I can stop by in the evening, and she says yes.

Just that is enough to change my mood and the rest of the day. My afternoon appointments go fast, and at six, I’m at home taking a shower. I leave for the Chinese restaurant at quarter past six and pick up the take-out that I’d ordered earlier.

Cora’s car is at her usual parking space, and a few minutes later, after I ring the bell, she buzzes me in.

She opens the door to her apartment, and when I see her, it feels like my world has righted itself. She looks freshly scrubbed and relaxed in joggers and a fitting T-shirt.

“You look gorgeous,” I tell her as I lean forward to plant a light kiss on her lips.

“Thanks. Whatever you’re carrying smells great,” she says.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re more interested in the food than in me?” I say as I follow her into the house.

“That’s because I am,” Cora says, and I laugh.

I hand her the package, and she carries it to the already set table.

“I remember that you loved Chinese food. I hope that’s still the case,” I say as I pull up a chair and sit down.

“I did, and I do,” Cora says as she serves the food onto plates. “Yummy.”

I’m not as hungry, and I spend more time observing Cora more than I do eating. She really is gorgeous, and she doesn’t have a self-conscious bone in her body. When she notices me staring at her, she just grins impishly and continues eating.

Later, after clearing up, we settle on the couch with our drinks. Coffee for me and water for Cora.

“I feel at peace with the world,” Cora says and stretches.

“You mean at peace with your belly,” I tease.

She giggles. “That too. I’ve never appreciated food more.”

A comfortable silence descends, and although I’d decided that I wasn’t going to ask her until she offered, I find myself asking anyway.

“How is Riley?”

Cora is surprised by the question. “Fran told you.”

“Yes.”

“She’s okay. She was discharged today but has to be on bed rest. They don’t know for how long.”

“She’ll be fine, and so will the baby. Her doctor is one of the best,” I said.

“Yeah.”

I wait for a beat before speaking. “I thought we were friends, Cora. I was surprised and a little hurt to hear about something like that from my sister.”

She holds my gaze. “We are. The sort of friends who tell each other when they’ll be out of town.” Her voice drips with sarcasm.

I inhale sharply. I deserved that. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I was having a rough time.”

“I don’t understand,” Cora says.

“The accident you had with Fran took me to a very dark place. It reminded me of losing Tessa, and I needed some time to come to terms with the thought that I might have lost you too.” I can’t believe that those words have left my mouth.

“It was a scrape,” she says.

I shrug. “I know, but a half a second earlier, it could have been worse.”

“Oh, Thomas.”

After a moment, Cora gets comfortable on the couch and stretches her legs over my lap. I massage her feet softly as the earlier tension dissipates. It’s odd that after admitting something so heavy to her, I’m still comfortable in her presence.

“Do you think that one day you’ll heal from losing your wife?” Cora asks softly.

I don’t know how to answer that question. Do you ever heal from something like that?