A Home for the M.D.

“We moved a lot,” she said somewhat evasively. “We lived in Arkansas for a year when I was in junior high, and it was always one of my favorite places, so when I had the chance, I came back here.”

“Where else have you lived?”

He seemed to be making conversation rather than prying, but it still made her a little uncomfortable to talk about her past with this man whose life had been so very different. “I’ve lived for at least a brief time in fifteen states.”

“Fifteen states? Wow. For someone as young as you are, that’s a lot of moving around. Especially since you’ve been working for my sister’s family for a year.”

“A little over a year, actually. I worked for another man in Arkansas—in Hot Springs Village—for almost a year before that, so I’ve been back in this state for a while. As for my age, most people think I’m younger than I really am. I’m twenty-nine.”

“Do your parents still move often?”

She nodded. “I can’t imagine my father ever staying in one place for long, and my mother seems content to follow him around the country.”

The last she’d heard, they’d been in Arizona. But it had been a couple months since she’d talked with her mother, so they could very well have drifted someplace else since then. For the past dozen years, especially, they’d been unable to settle anywhere for long. During those twelve years, they had traveled on their own while Jacqui followed a different path.

“Do you have any siblings?”

The question still made a hard lump form in her chest, even after all this time. “I had a sister. She died.”

Although she wasn’t looking at him, she sensed Mitch searching her face. She wondered if he’d heard the guilt that always swamped her when she thought of Olivia.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Thanks.” She reached for her purse. “If you’re finished with your lunch, we really should get the groceries. I’m supposed to pick up Alice at four.”

“I’m done.” He swallowed one last gulp of his tea and then stood.

Jacqui moved toward the exit without looking back to see if he followed.

Mental note to self. Don’t ask Jacqui personal questions.

Mitch glanced sideways at the woman in his passenger seat as he drove toward the supermarket she said she preferred. He couldn’t help being curious about her, despite her reticence about her past. Or, just as likely, because of it.

Although he wouldn’t have called her chatty, their conversation had been going pretty well during lunch until he’d started asking questions about her family. He had definitely hit some raw nerves there. Her relationship with her parents was obviously strained, and her old pain from losing her sister had been almost palpable.

What had it been like for her, growing up without strong roots to either a place or her family? So strongly connected to his own mother and sisters, and to the memory of the father he had loved deeply, and never having lived anywhere but central Arkansas, Mitch couldn’t really identify with her experiences, but he would have liked to hear about them. Not that her past was any of his business, of course. Although circumstances had brought them under the same roof for the next couple of weeks, they were merely acquaintances, nothing more. Maybe by the time he moved on, they could at least claim to be casual friends.

It was her suggestion that they stop at a sporting goods store they passed on the way to the supermarket. “If you’re going to play football with your friends tomorrow, you’ll need clothes,” she said.

Stopped at a red light, he looked at the store, thinking how convenient it would be to save at least one extra shopping trip. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” She motioned for him to turn

into the shopping center in which the sporting goods store was located.

“I won’t be long,” he promised. “Just need a few things.”

“No reason to rush. We have a couple of hours to shop before Alice gets home.”

The casual assurance made him realize that her hurry to leave the lunch table had been more related to their conversation than her schedule for the remainder of the day. No surprise.

“Kind of warm for a football game, isn’t it?” she asked, glancing at the blazing sun in the cloudless sky.

He shrugged as he pulled into a parking space and killed the engine. “We dress cool, drink plenty of water. We don’t start until six, so even though it’s still hot, the sun has gone down some. By the way, Scott was serious about you being welcome to join us, if you like. The games are co-ed, and we have several women who show up regularly to play.”

“Since it’s co-ed, I take it you play flag football? Not tackle?”

He realized only then that she was under a misconception about the invitation his friend had extended. “Wrong game.”