A Home for the M.D.

His smile faltered, but she slipped out of his grasp and moved quickly down the stairs before he could reply with whatever he might have said.

Some role model for Alice she was turning out to be, she thought in annoyance. When it came to a cute, completely unsuitable guy with a sexy smile, it seemed that neither of them had a lick of sense.

Brooks and Dunn wailed that “cowgirls don’t cry” as Mitch skillfully wielded a number 69 Beaver blade on the adolescent hand he viewed through a magnifying glass. Mitch liked an eclectic selection of music while he worked; his amplified music player held an extensive collection of country, rock and alternative songs. The selection was varied enough that he didn’t get bored with it and his assistants rarely complained, as they did about Dr. Burkett’s vast library of polka tunes.

Seated at one side of the hand table, gloved and gowned, Mitch worked swiftly to repair the extensive damage that had been done to the boy’s hand when a friend slammed a car door on it. He didn’t want to take longer than necessary to make the repairs. More than two hours’ use of the inflated tourniquet cutting off the blood supply to the hand increased the risk of long-term muscle damage.

His first assistant, a third-year surgical resident, stood at the other side of the hand table, watching the delicate procedure intently and eagerly and performing as much of the operation as Mitch allowed. A fourth-year medical student stood nearby, craning her head for a better view while doing her best to stay out of the way. At the end of the hand table, next to the vigilantly guarded sterile instrument tray, stood a surgical technician with whom Mitch had worked many long hours in various operations. They’d operated together so often that Brenda often knew what he needed before he even asked, handing over instruments in a smooth, practiced rhythm that made the process easier for both of them.

There wasn’t a lot of time for chitchat during this procedure, as there was in some longer operations, but Brenda still asked at one point, “How’s the house search coming along?”

“Haven’t looked much yet,” Mitch answered, taking a moment to stretch his neck muscles, which were tightening up from being held so long in the same position. “It’s only been a few days.”

“Still staying with your sister?”

“Well, in my sister’s house. She’s on a European vacation with her husband. Her stepdaughter and housekeeper are sharing the house with me for now.”

“How old is the stepdaughter?”

“Fourteen.”

“Challenging age.”

Mitch thought of the chilly treatment Alice had given Jacqui during dinner last night. “You can say that again.”

The boy on the table was only fifteen. And right-handed. Mitch turned his attention to the surgery again, determined that the kid would have full use of that hand again. Mitch loved his job—repairing young bodies damaged by accidents or ailments. The hours were long, the physical demands grueling, the emotional toll occasionally high—but he thrived on it. Sure, there were times when he wondered why he hadn’t gone into carpentry; it was a lot less stressful to repair broken cabinets than broken bones, especially because he’d chosen a pediatric specialty with so much at risk. But those fleeting thoughts never lasted long. He was doing what he’d been called to do.

Focused intently on the retractor he held, the resident commented through his mask, “Living with a teenager and a senior citizen is probably making you impatient to get back into a place of your own.”

Mitch spared a glance upward. “A senior citizen?”

The resident never looked up from his task. “The housekeeper. Just an assumption.”

“An incorrect one.”

“Oops. My bad.”

The medical student giggled, then subsided quickly into silence, as though embarrassed to have called any attention to herself. Mitch didn’t even glance her way but finished the operation without further conversation, an image of Jacqui in the back of his mind. How would she feel if she’d heard herself referred to as a senior citizen?

Leaving the capable resident to close, he stood, taking care not to contaminate the sterile field around the patient. He backed away from the table, his gloved hands held above his waist. The medical student moved up eagerly to take over first assistant position while Brenda watched zealously to make sure the sterile field remained unbroken.

Once out of range, Mitch dropped his arms and arched his back to loosen the muscles there. He had another surgery scheduled that afternoon, but he had an hour free for lunch first. He would eat that meal at his desk while he checked messages and returned calls.

The sandwich sat half eaten on his desk and the list of phone numbers were held unheeded in his hand a short while later. His thoughts had drifted to Jacqui again. Specifically, he recalled that moment in the stairway when their faces were on a level and her freshly moistened lips had been only a whisper away from his. He could almost feel his hands on her arms as he’d steadied her. Her body had been warm through her thin cotton blouse, and he could only imagine how soft her skin would be over the work-toned muscles beneath.

Definitely not a senior citizen.

He supposed he should find another place to live soon. His growing attraction to Jacqui was likely to get awkward if he stayed there much longer. As if it weren’t already awkward enough, at least for him.

Fortunately Alice’s sulks didn’t last through Monday. By the time she and Jacqui had run errands together and shared lunch at Alice’s favorite Chinese buffet, the girl was back in her usual good spirits. Neither of them mentioned the disagreement in the park. Jacqui wondered if she should bring it up again, just as another opportunity to make sure Alice understood what had been at stake, but she decided to let it go.

Mitch had let her know he wouldn’t be home from the hospital until late that evening, so she and Alice shared a quiet evening together. After a cooling swim in the backyard pool, they spent a couple of hours knitting in front of the TV. Jacqui finished some projects for her friend’s boutique while Alice worked on a pale-green bear

she would stuff with batting and add to her children’s hospital gifts.

“It’s kind of quiet around here without Mitch, isn’t it?” Alice remarked as they put away their yarns and needles.

Jacqui smiled faintly. “A little.”