Prescription: Marry Her Immediately (16 page)

Quent checked his watch. It was too early to leave yet, he supposed. Silently, he willed the pregnant women of Serene Beach to refrain from having any difficult deliveries on Christmas Eve.

Greg tugged his hand, wanting to go outside again. Quent decided to start teaching him the names of the constellations. It would be fun for them both, and it would help the time pass quickly.

“T
HIS BABY
is so sweet!” Hallie cooed. She was an attractive young woman with long chestnut hair and hazel eyes. “I don’t blame you for marrying Quent so he could keep these little darlings. Of course, if it were me, I’d make sure things didn’t stay platonic.”

“Now, there’s an idea.” Amy couldn’t resist a touch of irony.

“Not that I’m complaining,” the receptionist dithered on. “I don’t mind his having a marriage of convenience with you as long as he’s still available to the rest of us.”

“Is that what he told you?” Into Amy’s mind flashed an image of Quent from a few weeks ago, leaning on the counter at the Well-Baby Clinic gazing at this same woman.

“Well, sure,
I guess.” Hallie gave a small pout. “I mean, everybody knows it.”

Even though she knew that was the rumor circulating at the clinic, Amy cringed. She hated the way women kept treating Quent as if he were still single. The worst part was the suspicion that he might be encouraging them.

A feedback screech from a microphone hushed the chatter. Clamping her hands to her ears, Hallie retreated.

“Sorry about that,” Patrick said from the front of the room, where he stood with a mike in one hand. “I’m trying to make an announcement.”

“I hope it’s ‘Merry Christmas!”’ someone called.

“Let’s start there,” said the center’s administrator. “Merry Christmas, everybody.”

Shouts of “Merry Christmas!” flew back at him. People drifted in from outside, including Quent. Amy was glad to see there weren’t any women hanging on him this time.

“This isn’t a formal announcement, but we’re a family here and we share things.” Tall and self-assured, Patrick was at home in front of a crowd. “I want you all to be the first to know that, with the help of my brother-in-law Mike Lincoln, we’ve secured a major pledge for the Endowment Fund.”

Applause broke out. “How much?” a man called.

“I’m not at liberty to say.” He paused, giving the guests a chance to make vocal protests along the lines of, “I thought we shared things!” and “You can’t hold out on us!” Patrick feigned dismay. “You mean, you want me to tell you now?”

Natalie, glowing with goodwill, watched her husband play with the crowd. The two of them were a perfect match, both devoted to the medical center and to each other. And, of course, to their child-to-be.

“Put us out of
our misery!” Heather called.

“Well, if you insist,” Patrick said. “I really can’t reveal the name of the company yet, but I can tell you that we’ve been pledged ten million dollars in matching funds.”

Whoops and cheers rocked the yacht. Since an equivalent amount had already been raised, the center was two-thirds of the way to reaching its goal.

With that much money, Doctors Circle would be on solid financial footing for years to come. Under Patrick’s guidance, it had recovered from a former administrator’s incompetence enough to permit the current remodeling. Thanks to the new donations, there should be plenty of funds for the future as well.

“The tricky part is the word
matching,
” Patrick said when the hubbub abated. “The community has to come up with an equivalent amount. Think we can encourage them to do that?”

A chorus of yeses filled the air. Amy joined in, and so did Tara.

“Yes! Yes!” the little girl continued shouting after everyone else stopped, to the crowd’s amusement.

Patrick raised a glass. “Here’s to our ardent young supporter. May Doctors Circle be here for her and every other little girl in this community when they grow up!”

Applause broke out. Through the crowd, Amy’s gaze met Quent’s. He was grinning, and she knew she was, too.

They broke contact as a pretty young woman moved in front of him, blocking Amy’s view. She recognized the newcomer as a cafeteria worker who’d loaded up Quent’s plate extra high once as the two of them went through the line. Although she couldn’t hear what the woman was saying, there was no mistaking her intent as she tugged him under the wreath and planted a kiss on his mouth.

Reddening, Quent ducked
away. Despite his embarrassment, it appeared to Amy that he enjoyed the game.

He couldn’t help the fact that females found him attractive. She wished he weren’t quite so entertained by it, though.

N
ORMALLY,
Quent hated leaving a party in full swing. This time, he was glad that the yawning kids gave him an excuse. Although ten o’clock, the hour when he went on call, was fast approaching, he hoped to have some uninterrupted time with Amy.

They sang carols on the way to the condo. Greg didn’t know the words but gamely hummed along, while Tara babbled merrily.

Amy’s sweet soprano sent tingles up Quent’s spine as he drove through the quiet streets of Serene Beach. There was something bewitching about singing these beautiful songs in the star-flung night.

As they passed between arrays of Christmas lights on the houses, he imagined them as characters on a sleigh dashing across a wintry landscape inside a paperweight his mother used to own. The main difference was that, even if you shook southern California and held it upside down, you wouldn’t get any snow.

Amy leaned back, singing the words to “Feliz Navidad” with gusto. Quent had been right. Matters had fallen into place. He felt as if nothing had ever come between them.

At home, he carried a half-asleep Tara inside. Amy took charge of Greg, who was insisting on a bath. It seemed easier to give in than to fight, so the two of them disappeared into the bathroom.

This time, when Quent
changed his niece’s diaper, he had no trouble tightening it the proper amount. The skill hadn’t taken more than a few days to become second nature.

“You’re getting me trained,” he told Tara.

“Train,” she said. “Choo choo!”

Quent laughed. “Not that kind of train. But hey, you never know. Maybe my little girl will grow up to be an engineer.”

Or whatever she wanted to be. A doctor, a psychologist, a teacher, a homemaker. She was going to be the mistress of her own destiny, with Quent and Amy right behind her, lending support.

Warmly dressed in a sleeper, the baby chatted to him on the way to her crib. After laying her down on her back, Quent stood watching for a few minutes until she drifted into sleep.

On the nearby bureau, a couple of teddy bears sat watching them. Childhood buddies were the best kind, he thought.

When he tore himself away, he went to check on Amy and Greg. From outside the bathroom, he could hear the gurgle of the drain emptying, along with the buffing sound of a towel being employed.

Inside, Greg was talking. Quent didn’t want to interrupt, so he waited.

“Can I call you Mommy?” the little boy said.

“I’d love it.” More rubbing sounds. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Kind of.”

“Just ‘kind of’?” Amy
sounded surprised. “I thought you liked the boat.”

“I did. The food, too.”

“Was there something you didn’t like?”

“Well…” The word vanished into a yawn.

“Here, I brought you some new pajamas,” Amy said. “What do you think?”

“I like the elves.” Apparently, he was referring to pictures on the fabric. There was a pause while, Quent assumed, arms fitted into sleeves and pants got pulled on.

He wished they’d get back to the part about what Greg didn’t like. The loud music, maybe? Or was it being near water?

The boy hadn’t shown any fear of water despite the trauma of the accident, Lucy had reported. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to Quent that being on a boat might affect his nephew.

But he doubted that was the issue. Greg had leaned over the railing at one point, fearlessly pointing out a ripple that he insisted was a dolphin. So what else could be bothering him?

It was a relief to hear Amy say, “Now tell me what you didn’t like tonight.”

“Why did those ladies kiss Uncle Quent?” Greg replied.

“You mean under the mistletoe?” Amy asked. “It’s kind of a tradition.”

Quent hadn’t realized she’d noticed those incidents. Or that Greg had, either.

“I don’t like it,” said his nephew. “He’s married to you.”

“They were just being friendly. Quent’s such a handsome man that lots of women like him.” When Amy spoke again, her tone had altered. “No, I’m not being completely honest, and I always want to tell you the truth, because you’re my son.”

“Okay,” Greg said.

Quent had to remind
himself to breathe. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly grown tense.

“Getting married means we’re going to be your parents,” she said. “Forever and ever.”

“Good!”

“But people get married for different reasons, and the other ladies know that,” she said.

“People get married for love,” Greg said. “Lucy told me.”

“Yes, but sometimes one person loves the other one more.” Amy’s voice trembled. “Your uncle Quent made a sacrifice and married his friend so we could give you and Tara a good home. And I’m glad he did, because you know what? I love him a whole bunch.”

Stunned, Quent moved away from the door. Amy loved him. She didn’t mean as a friend, either. And she was hurting, hurting deeply, because he didn’t respond in kind.

He didn’t know what to do. He’d believed he was marrying an experienced, devil-may-care woman. Instead, his wife had turned out to be a virgin who genuinely loved him and who, apparently, wanted a traditional marriage. Although he cared about her deeply, he wasn’t sure he could give her that.

Even a guy like him, who wasn’t always lightning fast when it came to noticing a woman’s emotions, could tell how much pain he was causing Amy. Had this arrangement been a mistake? The last thing he wanted was to go through life disappointing her. But what choice did he have?

His eyes smarted. It
must be the late hour, Quent decided, and went into the kitchen to remove his contact lenses.

He was cleaning his glasses when the phone rang. A glance at his watch showed it to be 10:11 p.m. So it came as no surprise when the charge nurse said into his ear, “Dr. Ladd? You’re needed in labor and delivery.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

In the hallway, he informed Amy of the call and gave Greg a good-night hug. After assuring them that he’d return as soon as his work was done, Quent threw on a coat and went out.

He pretended not to notice the uncertainty on his wife’s face. Although his instincts urged him to reassure her that he couldn’t wait to get back to her, he needed to be as honest with her as she’d been with Greg.

A few hours of hard work ought to help him sort out his thoughts, he mused as he got in his vehicle. But one thing was clear.

There was no way they could go back to what he’d considered normality, now that he knew how Amy really felt.

At forty-one, the mother
was having her first baby, not an unusual occurrence in these days of high-power careers and postponed childbearing. She’d run into a problem at the end and Rob Sentinel had performed an emergency Caesarian section.

As soon as the baby was handed to him, Quent tuned out everyone else in the operating room and focused on checking the infant’s responses. There’d been a brief period when oxygen might have been cut off, and he hoped there’d been no damage.

The newest resident of Serene Beach had a shock of dark hair, a chubby body and a rosebud mouth. His heart sounded fine. Breathing was normal. Reflexes checked out. Everything looked great.

Quent gazed down into a pair of inquisitive blue eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he told the tiny boy, and handed him to a nurse to be diapered, wrapped and placed beside his mother.

Not until he left the room and stripped off his soiled gloves and clothing did Quent realize how fast his heart was beating. He’d been concerned for that baby in a deeply personal way.

It was because he knew what it
meant to love a child with all his heart. Two children, in fact.

At some level, he’d always recognized that his job brought him in contact with miracles. Tonight, though, he understood more completely than ever what was at stake. A future full of promise now stretched ahead of this little guy, thanks to his parents, Doctors Circle and a dose of good luck.

A miracle on Christmas Eve. What more could a man ask for?

After washing his hands, Quent scribbled his notes for the medical chart. He was nearly done when Rob joined him. “Everything okay?” the obstetrician asked.

“Thank goodness, yes,” Quent said. “I don’t see any problems.”

“I’ll let the father know. He’ll be thrilled. They’ve waited a long time for this child.” The mother, now sedated and on her way to the recovery room, would be too woozy to absorb the information for a while, Quent knew.

His friend began cleaning up. In profile, Rob was a handsome man, with dark hair and classic features. Also a recent arrival in Serene Beach, he hadn’t yet found a girlfriend. Thank goodness the date with Amy hadn’t amounted to anything.

Quent smiled, realizing that he himself had managed to find not only a girlfriend but a wife and two kids. Quite an accomplishment for a guy whose idea of commitment only a few months ago had been paying cash for a used Ping-Pong table.

“It doesn’t seem fair that you have to work tonight.” Rob tossed his white coat into the soiled-clothing container. “Being a newlywed and all.”

“I owed Dudley a
favor.” Quent shrugged. “Besides, we all have to take our share of holiday hours.”

“Want a word of advice from a guy who used to be married?” Rob said. “Don’t leave your wife alone any more than you have to.”

“I didn’t realize you were divorced.” It wasn’t the kind of topic men usually discussed. Quent knew which football team Rob rooted for and that he preferred imported beer. Until recently, those had seemed like the most important details. “Any kids?”

A tight shake of the head was the response. Sore subject, Quent gathered. “Think you’ll be needing me again tonight?”

“There’s no one else in labor,” Rob said. “Of course, it’s possible women are delaying coming in so they can enjoy the festivities, in which case we may get an influx later. I think I’ll sleep over.” He could use an unoccupied bed, of which there were plenty due to the lack of elective surgeries on a holiday.

Quent thought about the cheery condo that awaited him, with lights blazing, a wreath over the door and cookies in the kitchen. Rob probably had nothing in his apartment to go home to.

He wondered what had gone wrong in the man’s marriage. Perhaps the long hours involved in medical training had proved fatal. That wasn’t unusual. Doctors, like police officers, had a high divorce rate.

“By the way,” Rob said, “you got some goop on your glasses. You might want to clean that off before you drive home.”

“Gee, I thought the lights were kind of dim in here. Thanks. Merry Christmas.” Quent was cleaning his spectacles for the second time that evening as his friend departed.

If Amy was awake, they
could enjoy the glimmering tree together, he thought. As for making love later, he was no longer sure how to proceed.

Discovering she was a virgin had forced him to face how little he knew her. Since their honeymoon, he’d begun to believe everything was back to normal. What he’d heard tonight, however, made Quent realize she must have been putting on a cheerful front for his benefit.

Lost in thought, he notified the charge nurse that he was leaving, and headed into a side corridor. As he approached the staff entrance, Amy’s words to Greg echoed through his mind.

Sometimes one person loves the other one more. Your uncle Quent made a sacrifice…

She’d declared her love for him in a way that left no doubt he was breaking her heart. Although a four-year-old boy might not understand, Quent did.

He halted just inside the door. Next Christmas, would his wife still be here? Why should she stick with a husband who didn’t love her the way she deserved? Rob’s wife obviously hadn’t.

A bleak vista appeared in Quent’s mind. A cold, cheerless apartment. A hired caretaker watching the children. A series of casual dates with women who vanished from his thoughts the moment they disappeared from sight.

Why hadn’t he realized at their wedding that Amy loved him? He’d noticed the radiance that surrounded her. He must have guessed the truth, yet he’d refused to admit it to himself. Why?

Because love terrifies me.

The words came out of nowhere. They startled Quent into turning and pacing away from the exit. His footsteps carried him at random while long-suppressed feelings erupted to the surface.

Since that night on the
quay when the railing collapsed, he’d experienced anxiety whenever he and Amy became close. An unidentified danger had seemed to surround him, retreating only when he pulled back from the relationship.

Vaguely, he’d realized it had something to do with his family experiences. He’d assumed he wanted to avoid ending up like his parents, whose marriage had deteriorated into barely disguised hostility.

He’d believed his concern was protecting his friendship with Amy. But that wasn’t true. The person he’d been trying to protect was himself.

Quent paused at the edge of the empty lobby, where a Christmas tree blinked forlornly. With a jolt, he saw another waiting room from a little over a year ago, heard the murmur of low voices and smelled its antiseptic scent as if he’d been transported.

That night in San Diego, he’d rushed to his father’s side after receiving the phone call. Even amid the bustling life of the hospital, there’d been no hope left for his mother, Jeffrey or Paula. By the time Quent arrived, all that remained was the agonizing business of signing forms and making funeral arrangements.

Gone, so quickly. So absolutely. For all his medical training, Quent had been helpless.

What if someday it happened to Amy? What if he let himself love her, heart and soul, and had to stand in a room like this and learn that she was gone?

It didn’t seem so unlikely, not after she’d nearly been injured twice in his company. The memory made his eyes burn.

He hadn’t dared to love her, because he might lose her. And if that happened, he didn’t know how he would survive.

At the far side
of the lobby, he heard the scrape of a door. Dragged from his reflections, Quent saw Mrs. McLanahan turn to lock the gift shop.

She’d stayed outrageously late, he thought. Maybe the widow had found dusting the shelves and double-checking the receipts preferable to spending the evening in an empty house.

Glad for a respite from his troubling reflections, he called a greeting and crossed the lobby. At least he could walk the elderly woman to her car and wish her a Merry Christmas.

Then he’d go home himself. He only wished he knew what he was going to say when he got there.

A
MY AWOKE
from a dream in which a Grinch stole her pancake mix and she was trying to get the children to eat bagels with syrup on them. That, she thought as her eyes blinked open, must be the stupidest dream anyone ever had on Christmas morning.

Last night, she’d waited up for an hour after Quent left, bringing wrapped gifts out of the closet and arranging them under the tree. She’d also mixed pancake batter and made orange juice for this morning’s special breakfast.

She’d hoped he would come home in time for them to enjoy a late-night cup of cocoa together. Weariness had overcome her good intentions, however.

It was too bad none of the extended family had accepted their invitation to dinner, Amy mused as she showered. After traveling to Serene Beach for the wedding only last Saturday, the others had decided against making the trip again so soon. Even Lucy was too busy, although she’d promised to visit before she left for Kansas City.

Although Amy would
miss everyone, she didn’t regret the chance to spend the day alone with her family. Still, having other people around might make it easier to pretend there were no problems.

She’d done her best to keep Quent from guessing how much it upset her to see other women flirting with him. It wouldn’t get easier when they went back to work tomorrow, either. Amy wasn’t sure she could rein in her temper if Hallie made any more remarks about how
she
would never maintain a platonic marriage to Quent.

“You asked for it,” she told herself. “So quit complaining.”

After her shower, she dried her hair and dressed in jeans and a festive sweater. When she emerged, she noted that Quent’s door was shut. Until now, she hadn’t even been certain he’d come home last night.

Greg poked his head out of the children’s room. “Did Santa come?” he asked eagerly. “Can I go see?”

It was on the tip of Amy’s tongue to agree when she realized that Quent wouldn’t want to miss such a special occasion with the children. “Let’s see if your uncle’s awake,” she said.

“I can’t wait!” Greg hopped from one foot to another. He looked adorable in his new pajamas with elves appliquéd on the front.

Surely Quent would forgive her for waking him, Amy thought. “I’ll get him up.”

“Okay. Hurry!”

She tapped on the office door. If only the two of them shared a room, she’d have known what time he came home and he’d probably have awakened when she did. No doubt they’d get into a rhythm eventually.

Amy was about to try
the knob when Quent opened the door himself. He looked remarkably bright-eyed behind his glasses. “You didn’t start without me, did you?” he asked, tightening the belt on his robe. With his hair rumpled and his pajama collar creased, he radiated the playful air she loved.

“No, of course not.” Her spirits rose. For one thing, he wasn’t avoiding her gaze this morning. For another, judging by his expression, he was almost as excited as his nephew. “Tara’s not up.”

“She doesn’t know about Santa yet,” Greg said.

“Well, she’s going to learn,” Quent said. “Since this is our first Christmas as a family, let’s establish some traditions.”

“Like what?” asked the boy.

“Here’s the first one.” He swept Amy into a hug, then planted a kiss on her mouth. Although it wasn’t the slow, sexy kind, it felt wonderful.

“I like that tradition.” Reluctantly, she released her grip on his shoulders. The scent of his hair clung to her.

“Here’s the second part.” He lifted Greg so high the boy could touch the ceiling. “Okay, we’ve established that you can fly. How are you at landings?”

Greg giggled. “Not too fast!”

Carefully, Quent lowered him. “One elf, coming down to earth.”

“Do it again!”

“Okay. In the meantime, I hope Amy will be kind enough to get Tara. Because the third part of the tradition is that we all go together to see what Santa brought.”

“I’d be happy to.” Quent’s mood made him irresistible, and Amy intended to enjoy every minute of the day. This was as close to heaven as she had any right to expect.

Within minutes, they
were all assembled in the hallway. Although Tara had no idea what was going on, she mirrored their anticipation.

“Let’s not start shouting if we find a big guy in a red coat sleeping off his busy night,” Quent said. “We’ll just quietly take whatever’s left in his bag of toys, okay?”

“Santa won’t be asleep!” Greg chortled. “He’s back at the North Pole.”

“Quent, I can’t believe you’re proposing to mug Santa!” Amy added in mock reproof.

“Finders keepers.” He winked at her. “Okay, let’s go!”

As they surged forward, Amy hoped Quent wouldn’t mind that this year, with so much going on, she hadn’t been very imaginative in buying things for him. She doubted he’d even remembered to get her a gift. That was okay with her. Christmas was for the children.

When Greg reached the pile of presents beneath the tree, he gave a shout. “Look! Santa put our pictures on them so we know who gets what!”

“That was clever,” Quent said under his breath.

“I was picking up a roll of film and it occurred to me I could make good use of the pictures, since the kids can’t read yet,” she explained in a low voice. Last night, she’d piled each child’s gifts separately, with a photo on top. As a lark, she’d done the same with Quent’s gifts.

To her surprise, she saw three large wrapped boxes that hadn’t been there when she went to bed. Instead of a photo, they were topped by a stick-figure drawing of a woman done on a sheet from a medical prescription pad. “Now, who could have left this?”

“Santa must have
consulted one of his medical elves,” Quent said.

Greg was already tearing the paper off his largest box. “Here are the rules!” Quent announced. “Each person gets to open one present. Then the next person, and so on. We keep going around until we’re done.”

“Who made those rules?” Although Amy liked the idea, she didn’t want her new husband to set himself up as domestic lawgiver. “At our house, it was every man for himself.”

“It’s an old Ladd tradition,” he said.

“Mom and Dad did it that way, too.” Greg, having elected himself to go first, yanked off a large bow. With a cry of delight, his little sister grabbed it and sat down to play with what was, for her, apparently the best toy of all.