Prognosis: Romance (Doctors in Training 4)

After a moment, Ron asked somberly, “Did you ever tell her that?”

“Not in those words.”

“Uh-huh. You thought she could read minds? Because, face it, my friend, she’d have to be a psychic to know what you’re thinking most of the time.”

James gazed down into the dregs of his cider. Oddly enough, he thought he had learned from Shannon and her charmingly open family how to communicate a bit more effectively. Comparing her family gatherings to his own, he had realized that the rather formal manners that had been drilled into him, while very useful in their place, tended to hold others at a distance in most settings.

r /> He wasn’t sure what had made the idea click in his head, but it had finally occurred to him that what Shannon referred to as his “doctor face” had been his tendency to fall back on that formality whenever he was in a professional setting. It hadn’t been such a problem for him in academia, but dealing with frightened or stressed patients and their families had required a slightly different approach.

He would probably never be as easily approachable as Shannon or the other Gambills, but he’d worked on being a little less solemn in his physician role and he thought he was making progress. He’d had few criticisms of his communication skills in his evaluations from the Seattle and Boston programs. There had been one comment from a ponytailed, aging hippie attending physician in Seattle that James could stand to “loosen up” a little, but other than that, he was going to be a superb doctor.

Shannon deserved the credit for helping him in that respect, James thought now. Too bad she would probably never know what she had done for him in those few weeks they had been together.

The week-old newspaper article had been handled so much that it was already starting to shred a little around the edges. Shannon was glad she’d stashed a few copies away for mementos and scrapbooks. She just couldn’t seem to stop admiring this one.

The brief article had run in the features section of the local newspaper last Thursday. Buried inside the section, it was hardly a headline story, but she didn’t care. There was a pretty decent photo of her wearing a wizard’s robe and leading a mixed group of birthday-party guests in a well-received game she had created for the event and a nice write-up of some of the services she offered through Kid Capers party planning. She’d booked three more parties in the next four months as a result of the publicity. The new year was definitely starting out well from a business perspective.

Refolding the page, she set it aside on her business table and stood, stretching out kinks in her back. Now that the Christmas season was behind her, she had cut back her hours at the toy store a bit, but today had been a long one. She’d barely had time to eat lunch. She headed for the kitchen, deciding to dig out the leftovers from a veggie casserole Devin had made for them yesterday.

To her family’s expressed satisfaction, she’d gotten her appetite back during the holiday season and had regained a couple of the pounds she’d lost in October and early November. She knew she looked healthier and happier. They would never know the effort it had taken for her to get to that point.

Christmas had passed in a blur of work, parties, rowdy family gatherings and preparations for the new business year. She’d been entirely too busy to spend much time brooding about…about any personal issues, she amended quickly, not wanting to set off thoughts of anyone in particular. Now, at the end of the second week of January, her schedule was slowing enough that she had to make a special effort not to dwell on how much she still missed that one person she tried not to think about.

Shouldn’t the ache have eased by now? Since she was the one to have called it quits, should she really be this empty and disappointed? It hadn’t been at all like this after she’d broken up with Philip. All she’d felt then was a mixture of relief and chagrin that it had taken her so long to act. She hadn’t been haunted by her memories of him. Hadn’t wondered where he was or who he was with. Hadn’t found herself hoping he was happy and yet secretly wishing he was miserable without her.

She was doing fine, she told herself in a little pep talk that was by now very well rehearsed. She was quite content to be on her own, savoring the independence that meant so much to her. If, eventually, she met someone who could share her life without overshadowing her, that would be lovely. Someone who could appreciate her accomplishments while celebrating his own. Someone who offered advice but didn’t get offended when she decided not to follow it, and who occasionally asked advice from her in return, acknowledging her own competence and intelligence. Someone who shared his feelings with her—his hopes, his dreams, his fears and sorrows—and provided a sympathetic ear for hers.

It would have been absolutely perfect, she thought wistfully, if James had proved to be that person.

She was almost finished with her reheated meal when someone rang her doorbell. Startled by the sound, she glanced at the clock displayed on the microwave. Just after 8:00 p.m. Devin wouldn’t be home from work for another eleven hours and Shannon wasn’t expecting anyone else to drop by tonight. It had to be someone from her family, she decided, moving toward the door. No one else she knew would just show up like this without calling first. She hoped nothing was wrong.

A dozen unnerving possibilities—several of them involving her nephew Kyle—swirled through her head when she peeked cautiously through the curtain to see who pressed the doorbell for a second time. The one possibility she had not even considered was that she would see James Stillman standing on her front step.

The curtain dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. Her mouth went dry, making her wonder if she could speak coherently even if she managed to open the door. Drawing a deep, unsteady breath, she ordered herself to get a grip.

She pushed a hand quickly through her hair before turning the lock, deciding there was nothing she could do about her slightly crumpled work clothes of white shirt and khakis. Pasting on a faint, politely curious smile, she opened the door. “James. This is a surprise.”

His appearance hadn’t changed at all in the past ten weeks and three days since she’d last seen him. Not that she’d been counting. And not that there was any reason he should look any different, she added with a mental wince at her own foolishness.

His dark eyes searched her face. “I should have called first.”

“That would have been nice,” she agreed lightly, “but as it happens, I’ve got a few free minutes. Come in.”

“Thank you.” He carried a small, plain brown shopping bag in one hand, but he made no reference to it when he stood in the middle of the living room, looking uncharacteristically ill at ease. “How have you been, Shannon?”

“Busy. You know—the holiday season. Crazy.”

He nodded, apparently following the disjointed response without much effort. “I’ve been out of town the past week. Combined some interviews on the east coast—New York, Boston, Baltimore. Someone showed me the newspaper article about your business this afternoon. I wanted to tell you I saw it and that it was great. Should be a big boost for Kid Capers.”

That was why he’d come? Because a random newspaper article had reminded him of her? “Yes, I’ve gotten several calls as a result of the free publicity.”

“You looked very nice in the picture. The kids seemed to be having a great time.”

She nodded. “I was proud of the way it all turned out.”

“You should be. I know how hard you work to make those parties look effortless.”

There were few compliments he could have given that would have pleased her more. “Thanks. That’s exactly what I hope to accomplish.”