One Hot Doctor by Sarah J. Brooks
Chapter 29
Cora
I feel like I’ve been in hospital for a week. In reality, it’s been two nights and two long days. Dr. Phillips insisted that I stay another day just to be sure that everything is okay with the baby.
I’ve always thought of myself as a strong person, but I don’t feel very strong right now. Without my home and business, I’m stripped of my identity. I can’t believe at my age and situation that I’m homeless.
One of my many fantasies regarding Thomas was to move into his spacious house. Well, they say that you should be careful what you wish for. This is not the way I wanted it. I feel like a charity case, and it’s a horrible way to feel. I wanted Thomas to ask me to live with him but not out of pity or a misplaced sense of duty. I want to curl up in a corner and cry. I’ve tried to put on a brave face in front of everyone, including Thomas. The only person who has an idea of how tough this is for me is Riley.
She and Leo came by earlier to visit. Leo and I had an emotional reunion, and I was glad to get the chance to say thank you. He risked his life by entering a burning building to save mine.
I’m sad too because two of his colleagues were badly injured in the fire and are fighting for their lives. I’ve always been super grateful for the sacrifices that firefighters make, but when you come up close and personal with them, the magnitude of what they do really hits you.
I’m packed and ready to go when Thomas walks in to take me home. He laughs when he sees me perched on the edge of the bed.
“Someone is eager to leave,” he says and bends to kiss my cheek.
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to a change of scenery. These four walls are driving me crazy.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m being wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair, and then Thomas and I are on the way home. It’s eleven in the morning, and the sun is warm and perfect.
I roll down the window and let my head fall back on the car seat. The wind on my face and the smell of clean fresh air feels like a new life for me. The first day in the hospital, I couldn’t get rid of the smell of smoke and soot. It was everywhere, even after showering and changing clothes.
It feels so good to smell like myself again and to inhale nature smells.
“I bet you feel like you’ve been in hospital for years,” Thomas says.
I laugh. “How did you know?”
“I’ve been hospitalized once about ten years ago. My appendix burst, and the timing was terrible as I’d just started my new job,” Thomas says.
I make all the appropriate noises as he regales me with his experience of being hospitalized. I look at him with the realization of how little I know him. I’ve thought this before, but this time it’s more poignant because we’re going to be living together. Panic fills my chest and then rises in my throat.
My heart beats wildly. What had I been thinking agreeing to agree to live with Thomas? I know he values his space and privacy. I know what any hint at intimacy does to him. If the thought of a baby freaked him out, what about me living in his house?
I take quiet, deep breaths. I’m driving myself crazy, and I deliberately empty my mind. An idea pops into my mind. “Hey, do you mind if we pass by my apartment building?”
“Are you sure you want to?” Thomas says.
“I’m sure.”
All my employees had stopped in at the hospital, and even though none of them voiced it, I could see the worry in their eyes. We’ve all suddenly found ourselves out of jobs, and it’s frightening.
“Just remember that it looks worse than it really is,” Thomas says.
As we get closer, I can see how damaged the building is, but when we stop in front of it, I want to break down into tears. The whole exterior is black, and some of the windows are broken. The smell of smoke wafts up my nose, and I’m not sure if it’s real or imagined. Emotion grabs me by the throat as the memories of that night come over me. I remember crawling in my dark, smoke-filled apartment, trying to find my way to the front door.
I’m so lucky to be alive. I can’t imagine the kind of courage that firemen have to voluntarily enter burning buildings.
“Ready to leave?” Thomas asks me softly.
My heart is heavy. “Yeah.”
I’m finding it hard to believe what Thomas said about the renovations taking three months. The damage looks terrible.
We reach his house, and when he turns off the engine, I inhale deeply. “It’s not too late to change your mind. I can always go to Riley’s.”
Thomas stares at me without speaking. His eyes take on a darker shade, and I feel as if he can read all my thoughts. I feel naked and exposed. I’m the first to look away.
“It’s not going to be for long, Cora. Relax and just concentrate on getting better. This is just me being there for a friend and the mother of my child, okay?”
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
In the past, it’s always been exciting coming to Thomas’s house, but it’s different coming as a charity case. He walks around and opens the door for me.
“I’m okay,” I tell him when he attempts to take my hand to help me out. Physically, my body is okay, but emotionally, I don’t feel like myself. I feel lost, like a piece of wood cast adrift at sea.
I follow Thomas to the front door and wait while he fishes his key out and unlocks the door. A delicious smell hits me as soon as I enter, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. It’s a welcome sound. My appetite has been non-existent since the night of the fire. I’ve been forcing myself to eat, and when I’m unable, guilt follows, and I imagine my baby hungry in my belly.
I’m on a roller coaster of emotions, and I hate it.
“I got someone to come and cook us a meal,” Thomas explains. “Do you want to eat first?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. A sandwich would have been fine.”
“I wanted to do something special to celebrate you leaving the hospital.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
In the kitchen, Thomas opens the oven and pulls out a dish. He carries the food to the table while I set it up.
“Hey, sit down; you need a rest,” he says.
“I’m okay, I promise. Laying down on that bed has been driving me crazy.” It feels so good to do something, even if it’s as simple as setting the table. Everything is done for you at the hospital. While it’s wonderful when you’re sick, but when you’re well as I was, it’s a nightmare.
Thomas joins me at the kitchen table, and we spoon the food onto our plates. Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, and steamed vegetables.
“Absolutely delicious,” I tell Thomas after I swallow my first mouthful.
“They do a good job,” he says and tells me about the company that cleans for him and also provides other services like cooking if you like.
I clear everything on my plate and even get seconds. Hospital food is bland, although food was the last thing on my mind.
After lunch, Thomas insists that he’ll do the dishes and takes me upstairs. To be honest, my eyes are drooping, and I’m sure it’s just past noon.
Thomas stops in the upstairs hallway. “I put you in this room, opposite mine.”
Disappointment floods me. I had looked forward to spending the night wrapped up in his arms. He opens the door, and I follow him in. It’s a beautiful, spacious room, and the window looks out to the fenced-in backyard and beyond that, the woods.
I’m teary, and I keep my face hidden by looking out the window.
“Your stuff is in the closet,” Thomas says. “I’ll leave you to settle in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“Thanks for everything,” I tell him.
The door shuts silently behind him. It’s silly and childish to expect that Thomas and I would share a bedroom. It’s different when I spent passionate nights with him as I would be gone the following day.
This is different. We both need our space. I need to shake myself out of this funk, and I must stop thinking of everything wrong in my life. I inhale deeply and turn away from the window. A bath would be lovely. Hospital showers are not the same as a home bath.
The bathroom is just as large and luxurious as the master bedroom bath. No shower for me today. I fill the tub and pour in some scented bath soak that I find on the side of the tub. I undress and step into the water. The temperature is perfect and hot enough to make my muscles relax but not so hot as to scald.
I lie down in the tub and slide down until I’m completely submerged in the water. I come up for air seconds later and spend the next few minutes scrubbing my body.
By the time I get out of the shower, I’m literally fighting to keep my eyelids open. I drain the tub, clean it, and after drying myself, pad back into the bedroom. I should look for something to wear, but I’m too sleepy. I slip into the cool bedsheets naked and pull the comforter up to my chin.
As I drift off to sleep, it ceases to matter that I don’t have my own home. Right now, all I feel is grateful that my baby and I have a warm place to sleep.
