Taylor Lynne: The Women of Merryton - Book Two (18 page)

“How do you feel about
what he said?”

“I wish—” She paused. “I
wish he would have tried harder to see me and I wish you guys hadn’t gotten
divorced.”

She had never really said
that before. It pierced my heart to have those words come out of her mouth.

“But,” she continued,
“I’m happy we decided to come here. And thank you.”

“For what, darlin’?”

“For coming here. I know
you hate it. And thanks for being such a good momma.”

“Thanks for being such a
good kid. And I don’t exactly hate it.”

She laughed a little. “I
know Dad is happy we came back.”

“Of course he is—he gets
babysitting and food,” I teased.

She sat up and looked
straight at me. “And he gets to see you.”

That wiped the smile off
my face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He missed you.”

I was happy to be back to
work after the long Fourth of July weekend. Between parades, fireworks, and
Sunday dinner, Easton and I had to spend way too much time together and it was
becoming somewhat awkward. Like we both realized what we had missed out on, and
that there were still feelings there, but we knew they couldn’t be explored. We’d
had our chance and we’d blown it.

Dr. Carmichael, the Chief
Physician and the big boss, invited me to lunch that Friday to discuss how we
could incorporate the New Mom’s program in other areas. I was excited to examine
that opportunity. Since I had been putting together a class for the women’s
group at church, it had got me thinking that I should be regularly doing this
at the hospital. I even got grand ideas about doing it at the schools. If we
could get kids to learn and use healthy eating habits while young, think of the
disease and heartache we could prevent. It would be a good outreach program for
the hospital.

I prepared a little PowerPoint
for our lunch meeting. I was hoping to convince him of my ideas to get the ball
rolling since I only had two years in Merryton. I say only, but what I meant
was I had two long years here, so I needed something to help me speed up the
time. Though the faster these two years went, the faster Ashley would graduate
and move away. I was really trying to convince her that the University of
Alabama was the school for her. She could still live on campus, but she would
only be an hour away from our home in Birmingham. If she wanted to, she could
even go to Auburn, which was two hours away. But she was keeping her options
open.

I met Dr. Carmichael in
the hospital cafeteria for lunch. I brought my lunch, per my usual, and he
bought something that looked almost edible.
Maybe we should start my program
in the cafeteria,
I thought.

Dr. Carmichael sat down
across from me. “Thanks for agreeing to have lunch with me.”

“Thank you for the
invitation. I’ve worked up a presentation outlining my ideas.” I reached down
for my laptop.

He reached across the
table and placed his hand over mine. “Let’s save that for later. I want to get
to know you a little better.”

I sat straight up and
pulled my hand away. “Okay? What do you want to know?”

He grinned and I noticed
he had capped teeth that practically shined. If it were a movie, I swear I
would have heard a ding and seen a sparkle come out of his mouth. He looked
like the typical middle-aged doctor you would see on some nighttime drama, like
a young Tom Selleck. He even had the gravelly voice. He didn’t seem like a bad
guy, but he was successful and attractive and he knew it, and wanted everyone
else around him to know it, too.

“You’re from Alabama,
right?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Did you grow up there? I
don’t hear an accent.”

I guess he was too into
himself to know any gossip about me. “Actually, I grew up here until I was
fifteen.”

His face registered mild
surprise. “Do you enjoy being back home?”

How did I answer that? I
didn’t want the boss to think I didn’t like it here. “I consider Birmingham to
be more of my home.” I skirted the question. I hoped.

He reached across the
table again and his fingers skimmed my hand. I decided to keep my hands to
myself or keep food in them.

“Well, we will have to
see what we can do to make you feel more at home here,” he said smoothly.

I wasn’t sure I liked
where this was going. I was beginning to feel this was a lunch date for him. I
looked at his left hand to see if I noticed a ring. I didn’t see one, but that
didn’t mean anything for doctors. With the amount of washing and scrubbing
required, sometimes they chose to forgo rings at work.
Maybe I was reading
the situation wrong
, I thought.

“Thank you. Did you want
to see my presentation?”

He shook his head. “We
can do that another time. Like I said, I was hoping to get to know you better.”

Was he hitting on me?
Surely no, right?
“There’s not much to know. My presentation
is short.” I was trying my best to get him to change his mind.

“I like a driven woman.”

Everything he was saying
could have been taken one way or the other.

“Thank you, Dr.
Carmichael. So should I—”

“Please, call me Victor,”
he interrupted. “And why don’t you just email me that presentation of yours.
And if you’re not busy tonight, maybe we can have dinner together?”

I hadn’t felt this
uncomfortable in a while. I was not attracted to him at all, and he screamed
mid-life crisis. How did I gracefully get out if this? I looked up to see
Easton walking our way. I had never been so happy to see him. I was so relieved
I actually smiled at him. He did not smile back. In fact, he looked upset.

Victor mistook my smile.
“I take that as a yes.”

Before I could reply,
Easton arrived at our table and he looked out of sorts.

Victor looked up at him.
“Easton, I was getting to know your lovely
ex
-wife
.”

Easton looked disgusted
at him. Victor smirked.

Easton knelt in front of
me. “Taylor,” he whispered, “Frank is in the ICU.”

I wasn’t sure what to do
with that information. I had been avoiding dealing with that demon. The one in
front of me had been consuming too much of my energy.

Easton took my hands in
his and rubbed them gently. His eyes were full of understanding. “I’ll go with
you.”

I supposed I couldn’t put
it off any longer, and by the look in Easton’s eyes, I felt like maybe this was
it.

I nodded slowly.

Easton helped me up and
grabbed my satchel, which held my unused laptop. What a waste of a lunch hour.

“Excuse me, Victor. I
need to see my …” I hated saying father. He was anything but.

“Her father’s in the
ICU,” Easton informed Victor on my behalf.

“By all means, go and see
him. We’ll clear your schedule for the afternoon,” Victor offered.

“Thank you,” I muttered
as I walked off, with Easton by my side. My hands were trembling and I felt out
of breath.

The ICU was on the first
floor, same as the cafeteria, but on the opposite end.

I tried to concentrate on
the sound of my high heels against the tiled floor. The click-clack was keeping
me sane. I wasn’t prepared to see Frank.

Easton touched my arm and
we both paused. “I want to warn you that he doesn’t look good. I know you’ve
been around plenty of patients in your career, but it’s always different with
family. Frank is deteriorating fast.”

Frank was not my family,
at least not in the true meaning of the word, but I didn’t argue the point. I
stood there and blew out a large breath.

“I won’t leave your
side,” Easton promised.

That was both good and
bad.
When had my life become so complicated?
It was Merryton. Always
Merryton.

“Are you ready?” Easton
asked.

“Not even a little,” I
admitted.

Easton wasn’t giving me
an out. He placed his hand on the small of my back and moved me forward.

Focus on the click-clack
,
I told myself.

Before I knew it we had
reached the ICU nurse’s station. Hardly knowing what I was doing, I signed in
and had to suit up. They hadn’t ruled out infection, and as a precaution I had
to don hospital garb.

Wearing a mask was
probably a good thing. It kept Easton from seeing my jaw drop in horror when I
first laid eyes on the man that made my life a living hell for so many years. All
the machines, tubes, and wires couldn’t mask that Frank was a shell. He was
terribly thin and he had lost most of his hair. His jaundiced skin was a sickly
yellow.

I looked over this man
who was practically a stranger to me and I felt nothing. No compassion, no
hate, no anything. It was as if a sudden all-encompassing void filled me. The
realization had me bursting into tears.

Easton wasted no time
taking me up in his arms. I cried into his chest as he held me tight and
stroked my hair. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I know how hard it must be for you to see
your father like this.”

I shook my head against
him. “You misunderstand my tears. I’m not crying because I hate seeing him like
this. I’m crying because I’m a terrible person. I couldn’t care less what
happens to this man.”

Easton looked down at me.
I could see the shock in his eyes. “You are one of the best people I know.
Frank knows he doesn’t deserve anything from you, but you deserve peace. I
think you may care more than you think you do.”

I didn’t say anything in
return.

“Why don’t we sit down?”
Easton suggested. He let go of me and placed two chairs near the bed where
Frank lay in what looked like a comatose or sedated state. I wasn’t sure.

I sat and Easton
followed. He took up my hand and held it tightly.

After several minutes of
staring at a man I hardly recognized, I finally asked, “What’s wrong with him,
besides the obvious?”

“His kidneys are failing
and he has an enlarged spleen. We are currently trying to balance out the
fluids in his blood and normalize his potassium. He may need dialysis.”

“What about a liver
transplant?”

“He isn’t a good
candidate.”

That made sense. He had
abused his body too much over the years.

“Where does he live?” I
asked out of curiosity.

“The Pines.” Easton shifted
in his chair uncomfortably.

I looked at him with
surprise. “How does he afford such a place? I suppose the government?”

Easton shook his head
slightly. “I take care of it,” he mumbled.

“Why would you do that?”

Easton looked at Frank,
and then me. “Because he’s your father and, I guess, family. I thought you
would want him taken care of.” He spoke more to the wall than me.

“I had no idea. He’s not
your responsibility.”

“He is, because I made
him so.”

I sat there, stunned, not
able to form any coherent thoughts. I don’t know how long we sat there in the
silence. The only sound was the beeping of the machines letting me know Frank
was still alive, if barely. A nurse was in and out to check on him, then a
doctor, letting us know that for now, they were going to monitor him and see if
the IV fluids and medications they were pushing helped.

I didn’t say anything. I
let Easton do the talking. It was as if he was the son.

When evening rolled
around, I pulled out my phone. “I should call Ashley, or maybe I should go
home?” I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid for Frank to wake up, but at the
same time, I didn’t want to miss it. I knew I had to talk to him one last time.
I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I needed to put this demon to rest.

“Why don’t I call
Ashley?” Easton offered. “Then we’ll grab something to eat in the cafeteria.”

“You don’t have to stay
with me.”

He dropped his head
slightly. “Like it or not, I’ve made you my responsibility, too.”

“I don’t want to depend
on you, Easton,” I admitted.

“I can understand that,
but here I am.” With that he stood up, called our daughter, and let her know
the situation.

Ashley hardly even knew
Frank existed. Harry was her grandfather. I remembered back to the years we had
lived here. I never let Frank hold her. We saw him on occasion when my mom was alive,
but I guarded her against him. Easton tried to persuade me to at least let him
hold her, but I wouldn’t. I could barely tolerate being around him. We hardly
even spoke. Then he showed up falling-down drunk at my mother’s funeral and
that was it. I never saw him again, unless it was by accident. He only
contacted us if he needed money, and he always talked to Easton, never to me.

I heard Easton giving
Ashley instructions to take Emmy out to eat and if they wanted to they could go
to the movies. “Your mom and I love you,” he said before he hung up.

I stood up, but continued
to look at Frank. He was practically unrecognizable. His cheeks were sunken and
covered in a layer of gray stubble. His hair was all but gone, except for a few
unruly wisps. I think, once upon a time, he was considered a handsome man. I
had seen pictures of him when he was a teenager at my Grandmother Roberts’ home—she
was about as cuddly as a cactus. To me, though, no matter how he looked
physically, he was always ugly.

Easton touched my
shoulder, shaking me out of my unhappy thoughts. “Let’s get something to eat.”

I nodded. I wasn’t
hungry, but I needed a break. The room was stifling to me.

Easton and I removed the
protective layer of clothing in silence and washed our hands thoroughly. Easton
was more than sure Frank didn’t have anything contagious, but we followed
hospital protocol until all of Frank’s test results were back.