Look at these French doors. I know how you love them. We could open up the doorway from the breakfast nook to the backyard and put them in. What do you think?
He left a link to the image on the Pinterest board, and she tapped on it, but she wasn’t looking at the doors. She was remembering the utter sweetness of the way he’d walked her to her car two days ago and enveloped her in a hug, including Cooper. How she’d kissed him goodbye, then kissed Cooper.
“We can have it all. Each other, all the babies we always wanted, a home, the rest of our lives together. I love you, Emma. I’ve always loved you.”
His words both thrilled and terrified her, the way she felt when Maizey had taken her rock climbing. But with Dylan, there was no belay. It felt a lot more like she imagined free climbing would.
They’re beautiful, but do they fit into the budget? she typed.
Her mind drifted back into deep thought. The ER was relatively quiet, with only a few rooms filled. All but one patient of Emma’s had been discharged. The other was waiting for surgery.
Liam had continued to avoid her since she’d called off the wedding and returned the ring. She didn’t blame him. She still hated herself for leading him down the wrong path. Her heart had known; her brain just hadn’t gotten the memo. And that made her worry it was happening again—this time with Dylan, only in the opposite direction.
Someone stepped up to the counter where Emma was working. She looked up and found Lisa Belleview, one of the ER charge nurses. “Hey, Lisa.”
She rested her arm on the counter. “I heard you’re interested in Doctors Without Borders.”
The ER staff was like one big functional-dysfunctional family. If Emma ever wanted anything to stay private, she never talked about it here. But her desires were well known. “Eventually. I need two years out of residency before they’d consider me.”
“Right. Have you taken that job with Vanderbilt?”
“Not officially.”
“Do you know Darla Mayberry?”
Emma wasn’t following this conversation, and the only Darla she knew held an administrative position in upper management. “Sounds familiar. Why?”
“If you have a minute,” Lisa said, “I may have something that would interest you.”
Emma followed Lisa into the break room, which was empty. She sat at the table while Lisa poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Darla has put a team of doctors and support personnel together to go to Somalia and Ethiopia,” Lisa told her. “It’s being paid for by private donations in conjunction with the American Red Cross. A team of six physicians and twenty-two support personnel, like nurses, lab techs, and admin. She told me last month that one of her doctors, an internist, took a job in Colorado, so she’s short a physician, and she hasn’t been able to fill the spot. I recently heard about your desire to work overseas.”
Emma searched her mind for information about Somalia and Ethiopia, but the only thing that came to mind were pirates and the movie with Tom Hanks, Captain Phillips, which she realized was pretty pathetic.
“I did. I mean, I do.” She explained the situation with her school loans, Shelley’s house, and the renovation, then the offer from Vanderbilt. “It’s just, I’m twenty-nine. If I take the job with Vanderbilt, I’ll be thirty-one by the time I’m free to travel.” She thought of Dylan and Cooper. “I want kids and a family. I don’t think it’s realistic or responsible to go overseas with little kids at home.”
“I get it,” Lisa said, sitting down across from her with a smile. “You want it all.”
Emma laughed. “I guess so.”
Lisa was only in her early forties, but her mother had been a diplomat, and she’d traveled extensively. She’d been doing volunteer work all around the world for decades. “Have you been to either country?”
“Sure, but it was quite a while ago. I’m sure it’s changed.”
“To be honest, I was talking to a friend of mine who is a foreign correspondent, and the fighting he described put the fear of God into me.”
“Where was he?”
“Syria mostly, but he’s been everywhere in the Middle East.”
“The Middle East is pretty bleak. I went on two trips there over the last two years, and I don’t see myself going back. It was utter chaos. The streets are killing fields. No one is safe. Not even children. They kill indiscriminately. I still have nightmares about my time there.”
The pain etched in Dylan’s face when he was talking about his friend Amir flooded her mind, and the ache in her heart bloomed again. He truly had been through hell the last eight years. She understood his desire to stay in the States with his sisters, and Emma agreed it would be the best thing for him. But that didn’t extinguish the dreams burning in her since she was a kid.
“Full disclosure,” Lisa said, “there has been fighting in the area, but the powers that be have found common ground and it has since ceased. Still, there are tens of thousands of people displaced, living in tents, which, to be honest, is a step up for many. But the community living and lack of food has caused a health crisis.”
“I’m interested, but I’ve got student loans hanging over my head.” Emma went on to explain her plan on using proceeds from the sale of Shelly’s house to pay them off.