Heart and Soul by Carrie Elks

12

“Dammit.” Meghan gritted her teeth and turned the ignition key again, but all she could hear were some random clicks. A glance at her watch told her it was almost twelve. They were due at her parents’ in an hour. Even if she managed to find the best mechanic in Angel Sands to come out to check the engine, they still wouldn’t make it.

“Mommy? What’s happening?” Isla leaned forward, her hair falling over her face as she craned to look at the dashboard.

“The car isn’t working, honey.” Meghan gave her a quick smile. “I think we’ll have to go see Granny and Gramps another time.”

“But they’re cooking dinner,” Isla said, her brow crinkling into a frown. “Granny said I could help her make some cookies later.”

“We can make some cookies at home.” While we wait for the mechanic. She should have gotten rid of this car years ago, but she didn’t use it that much. The occasional school trip and these drives to see her parents were as much mileage as it got. She had a van for the shop, but Jeannie needed it today to make deliveries. Maybe she could console Isla with a trip to the pool.

They grabbed their jackets and bags and walked back to the apartment building. By the time they got into the elevator, Isla was over her grump and was talking about a cartoon she’d seen that morning. Her voice washed over Meghan as she tried to steel herself to call her dad.

He’d be politely pissed. That was a good expression for it. And she understood. They didn’t get to see Isla much, and they missed her the same way Isla missed them.

When the elevator doors opened on their floor, a loud bang echoed through the hallway. Rich was walking out of his apartment, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his phone nestled into his palm.

“Hey.” He gave them a bemused look. “I thought you were heading to White City today.”

“Our car isn’t working,” Isla told him, before Meghan could open her mouth. “Mommy swore.”

His eyes met Meghan’s, and she could see his lips twitch. “I guess Mommy owes money to the swear jar.”

“What’s a swear jar?” Isla asked him.

“It’s a little glass jar that you add a dollar to every time you say a swear word. When it gets full you can give it to charity.” Meghan wrinkled her nose at him, trying to bite down her own smile. “And that would take a long time, because I rarely curse.”

“You swore the other night, too. When you burned your finger on the stove.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” she told Isla. Rich was grinning at her. “I owe the jar two dollars.”

“The charity is going to be very happy.” Rich was deadpan.

“Well we’d better go in. I need to call my parents.” Meghan grabbed her key from her purse. “Let them know we’re not coming.”

“Can’t you call a mechanic? I’d take a look myself but I know nothing about cars.” He looked genuinely upset about that. “If it was a human, great. But engines and I don’t mix.”

“I will. Even if I can find one on a Sunday, we still won’t get there on time. My parents go to church in the early evenings, so we had a four hour window. It’s all good, we can go next time I have a Sunday off.”

“I’ll take you.”

Meghan blinked. “What?”

“I’ll drive you and Isla to White City. I wasn’t planning on doing much today anyway. I was just heading out to the coffee shop because I don’t have any milk in the house.”

Isla’s face lit up.

“We couldn’t ask you to do that. We’d be gone all afternoon. It wouldn’t be worth your time to drop us off and come home again only to turn around to pick us up. I know how precious your days off are. It’s fine, we’ll go another time.”

“Please, Mommy?” Isla gave her a doe-eyed look. “I really want to see Granny and Gramps.”

Meghan ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. When she looked at Rich, he had a half-smile on his face. He’d shaved this morning, and was looking every inch the successful, handsome doctor next door. Her dad would welcome him with open arms.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.” He nodded, his blue eyes open and warm as a summer sky. “We’ll just need to move Isla’s booster seat to my car.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the open road. It was a beautiful late spring day. The sun was high in the sky, making the tips of the mountains in the distant look golden. Rich had opened the windows and the breeze whipped through their hair, making Isla giggle.

“My parents used to call it nature’s air conditioning,” Rich told Meghan. “It’d drive me crazy when I was a teenager. I just wanted to turn the damn blowers on.”

He hadn’t mentioned his parents since the day when he’d told her they were dead. Her mind sparked with curiosity, but she didn’t probe. Not least because little ears were listening.

When they reached the outskirts of White City, she pointed out the fast route to take to the suburb where her parents lived, telling him to ignore the GPS. Isla pointed out their old house, the school she used to go to before they moved to Angel Sands, and the little chapel set back from the road where her grandparents attended services once in the week and twice on Sundays.

When Rich pulled up outside her parents house, she wasn’t surprised to see her dad waiting on the porch. She’d phoned ahead to let them know they were running late, and that she’d be bringing a friend. When he saw who that friend was, her dad walked up to Rich and shook his hand.

“I never got a chance to thank you for looking after my little girl,” her dad said, his eyes warm as he smiled at Isla. “And now you’ve saved the day again.”

“I was just doing my job. Meghan’s the one who takes care of Isla.”

Her dad ignored his words, scooting down to hug his granddaughter, asking her questions about school, her foot, and whether she was reading her bible every night. Isla answered him happily, and then the front door opened and her mom bustled out.

She was wearing her usual Sunday dress, made of a pale green thick fabric that flared out at her waist in a fifties style. A floral apron was fastened over it, to save the dress from getting ruined by her cooking. “Come in, come in,” she urged, taking Isla by the hand. “I’m so happy you’re here. Meghan and Isla, why don’t you come with me and help in the kitchen. Gramps and your friend can put their feet up in the living room.”

Rich’s brows dipped. She hadn’t warned him that her parents had a traditional – bordering on ancient – type of relationship. One where her mom was firmly in the kitchen, and her father was the breadwinner and chief decision maker. She hadn’t worked out how to tell him in front of Isla, but now she felt her cheeks warm up.

“Are you sure I can’t help you, too?” Rich asked her mom.

She shook her head. “Not at all. We ladies like to stick together, don’t we, Isla? I’ll have Meghan bring you both in some sweet tea. We’ll let you two talk about boy things.”

Rich raised a brow at Meghan and she shot him an embarrassed glance. He winked, and somehow it made her feel better.

Five minutes later, she was carrying a tray of sweet tea and cookies into the living room. The door was closed, and she could hear the low murmur of voices inside. So her dad and Rich were talking? Curiosity overcame her, and she leaned her head against the door, trying to make out their words.

“How long have you been a doctor, son?”

“It’s been about ten years since I graduated from medical school.” Rich’s voice was low. Easy. “I specialized in Emergency Medicine from the start, and have been working at St. Vincents ever since.”

“And you’re an attending physician?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You must be very well respected in your field,” her dad said.

“I don’t know about that. I just know I love what I do. And it feels good to make a difference.”

Her dad cleared his throat. “You’re not married. Why is that?”

Meghan startled. Oh god, her dad must think they were dating. He was giving him the potential-boyfriend once over. How embarrassing.

“I’ve been kind of married to my job.” Rich didn’t sound phased at all, thank goodness. She really owed him one.

“Any vices? Debts?”

“I’m still paying off medical school, but that should be done with soon.” Was that a hint of amusement in Rich’s voice? He was going to tease her mercilessly about this. Taking a deep breath, Meghan opened the living room door with her elbow, and carried the tray to the coffee table in between Rich and her father, not meeting Rich’s eyes . She didn’t want to know what he was thinking. Or to find out he was judging her.

Because her family was weird. She knew this.

Meghan carried a glass of sweet tea over to her father, and offered him a cookie. Rich went to stand and help her, but her father waved him away. “In this house, our women like to serve us. We take care of them and they take care of us.”

Rich was going to have a field day later. She felt her cheeks blaze as she passed Rich his glass. His fingers slid against hers as he took it, and she felt a jolt of electricity rush through her. Her gaze immediately lifted to his, and for a moment she was lost in it.

“Thank you, Meghan, that will be all. I’m sure your mother needs some help in the kitchen.”

She pulled her hand from the glass, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Rich. He shook his head, still amused at the crazy dynamics going on in her parents’ home.

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

She shook her head, imagining her mom’s horror at having a man in the kitchen. “It’s fine. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

“Beef pot roast with potatoes and cabbage, the same thing we always have on Sundays.” Her dad sounded proud about that. “My wife’s a wonderful cook, Richard. And she’s taught Meghan how to be, too. She’ll make a great wife to somebody someday.”

And there it was. The big sell was beginning. She couldn’t have felt more like a cow in the market if he’d tried.

After dinner they could leave. She was already counting down the minutes.

* * *

Rich glanced at Meghan from the corner of his eye as they drove down the highway back to Angel Sands. After eating, they’d sat in the living room while Isla and Meghan’s mom had baked some more cookies. This time, Meghan had been allowed to sit with the men, though she’d been uncharacteristically quiet. At exactly four p.m., she’d jumped up and told Isla it was time to go. They’d said their goodbyes quickly, and Isla had carried a large bag of the cookies she’d baked out to the car, promising one to Rich when they got back to Angel Sands.

And now Isla was asleep in the back seat, her breathing rhythmic as they traveled along the highway. This time the windows were closed, and he had the air conditioning on.

“So what was that?” he asked, still trying to work out the dynamics in her family home.

“Sorry.” She sighed. “I should have warned you. My parents have what they call a traditional marriage. Kind of like from the nineteen fifties. My dad brings home the bacon and my mom lives to serve.”

“I didn’t know people still lived like that.”

She looked over at him, a smile playing at her lips. “You’d be surprised how many people do. Their church encourages it. Says that’s how the bible tells them to live.”

“It kind of put equality back a hundred years,” Rich murmured.

Meghan smiled. “Yeah. They think that’s the root of all evil. That things were good in the world before women started asking for equal rights. My dad says ever since then the world has become an evil place. That equality has led to divorce and broken homes, to gangs and drug taking. It’s as if none of that existed before the nineteen fifties.”

He lifted his hand from the wheel, raking his fingers through his hair. “How did you survive growing up in a house like that?”

Her lips twitched. “Not very well. I was lucky to have my grandma, that’s my dad’s mom. She spoiled me whenever she could to make up for things. But it was still difficult and I left at the first opportunity.” She glanced over her shoulder at Isla. “And of course when I got pregnant, they went apeshit.”

“That’s another dollar for the swear jar,” Rich teased.

“Yeah, well maybe it’ll get filled faster than I thought.”

He glanced at her again. She looked more relaxed now. Like she’d done her duty and could shake off the expectations of her parents. “Can I ask you about Isla’s father?” It had been bugging him for weeks. She never mentioned him at all.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft. She checked behind her, no doubt to make sure Isla was asleep. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you meet?”

“We met at a festival.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “I was working there the summer after graduating from college. I tended the bar in the band area, and he was one of the VIPs. We hit it off, and then…” Her voice trailed off. “I got pregnant. Except by the time I found out, he was off touring and didn’t want to be part of having a baby.”

“He’s never met her?”

“No.”

“But he pays child support?”

She shook her head. “I never asked for it. It’s always been Isla and me. We’re comfortable, thanks to my grandma’s legacy. We don’t need his money.”

“You’re a strong woman.”

Her glance was warm. “Thank you. But days like today I don’t always feel so strong. Every time I see my parents I feel like a scared kid all over again.”

“So why do you see them?”

She picked at a loose thread on her skirt. “I didn’t for a good part of a year. When I told them I was pregnant they disowned me.”

“They did what?”

“They told me I’d brought shame on the family. Asked me not to visit them or contact them.” She shrugged. “So I was all alone.”

Damn! The thought of her being so young and abandoned made him want to hit something. “What changed?”

“I went into labor when I was only thirty-three weeks pregnant. I had preeclampsia, and was rushed for an emergency cesarian.”

Rich blinked. “You went through that all alone?”

She nodded. “Isla was taken to the NICU and I was in the adult ICU. According to my doctor, they thought they were going to lose me. One of the nurses there went to church with my parents, and contacted them to tell them they had a granddaughter, and that I was very sick. So they came and took care of Isla while I couldn’t. They sat with her in the NICU every day. Held her and sang to her until I was well enough to do it myself.” She gave him a half smile. “So while I’ll never agree with how they live, or how they abandoned me when I needed them, I still owe them something. They’re Isla’s only family apart from me, and going through all that made me worry about what would happen to her if I got hurt or worse.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Says the guy who saves lives every day.”

“Yeah, but I get paid to do that. And I have a whole team around me. You’re bringing up Isla single handedly. And you’ve been doing it since you were almost a kid yourself.”

“And you’ve been taking care of your sister since you were a kid,” she reminded him, her voice full of warmth. “We’re not so different.”

Yeah, they were. None of this was her fault. She’d got abandoned by the guy who should have stood by her, then by her parents. He’d been a little shit who couldn’t care less about anybody else.

He breathed in, the sweet aroma of her perfume filling his senses. It was getting almost impossible to fight the attraction he was feeling toward her. It wasn’t only her beauty that pulled him in. It was the inside. The strong-as-hell woman she’d become. She made him want to be a better person. To be the one person she could finally rely on. To make her always smile the way she was right now.

But he couldn’t be. Everything about his life was too crazy for him to be dependable. But maybe he could be her friend.

And if it drove him a little crazy every time they were close? So be it. It was a small price to pay to spend time with his beautiful neighbor.