A Home for the M.D.
If he was surprised by her abrupt departure, he didn’t let it show. “I’ll stay down here for a while. Maybe watch the news before I turn in. Good night, Jacqui.”
She turned without another word and headed for the stairs. It felt as though more than a long day had just come to an end.
Too restless to sleep, Mitch drank another glass of tea while he watched the ten o’clock local news. When the newscast ended, he carried his glass into the kitchen and placed it in the dishwasher. He supposed he really should turn in; he had another long day scheduled tomorrow. But he was
still wired. Both Jacqui and Alice had left him tied up in knots that evening.
Women, he thought with a rueful shake of his head. There was no way any man could fully understand them—and that gender chasm developed young, judging by his niece’s behavior. He chuckled when the thought crossed his mind that Jacqui could be upstairs right now thinking that men were impossible to understand at any age. His amusement faded when it occurred to him that he understood Milo all too well—which was why he’d be having a long talk with that young man very soon.
Glancing toward the back patio door, he saw a nose pressed against the glass, a pair of eyes watching him as he moved around the kitchen. “Hey, Waldo.”
He wasn’t sure if the dog had heard him, but Waldo knew he had Mitch’s attention now. The dog yelped and wagged his tail eagerly.
“Now don’t start barking. You’ll wake everyone up,” Mitch chided, moving quickly to the door.
He stepped outside into the still-stifling August night. It was fully dark now, but sundown had provided little relief from the heat and humidity. The weather forecaster Mitch had just watched had predicted temperatures reaching close to a hundred degrees Fahrenheit by the end of the week. The hospitals would be busy treating heat-related injuries. Having lived here all his life, Mitch was accustomed to hot, dry summers, but he had to admit he preferred the cooler days of spring and fall.
He sat for a while on the patio, patting Waldo, who had recovered nicely from his fence encounter. Surrounding them were the sounds of a Southern summer night as the mostly young professionals in the neighborhood settled in to sleep in preparation for the next workday. The soothing chirps of frogs and crickets in the narrow band of woods at the back of the subdivision blended with the occasional rumble of passing cars on the quiet streets. A siren wailed in the distance, the fading sound coming from the direction of downtown. A dog barked from a neighboring yard, answered by another farther down the block. Waldo cocked his head in response to that brief, canine conversation but didn’t join in. He seemed completely happy to sit at Mitch’s feet having his head and ears rubbed.
Though the security lighting in the neighborhood dimmed the cloudless night sky, Mitch could just see the glimmer of stars overhead and the blinking lights of a high-passing plane. A nearly full moon floated serenely over the sleepy scene, its reflection glittering on the water of the inground pool that took up about half of the good-size backyard. The pool was surrounded by a decorative, wrought-iron fence. Meagan had laughingly confided that Waldo would play in the pool for hours if they didn’t keep it fenced and that the dog enjoyed tossing toys, sticks and anything else he could find into the water they tried to keep clean.
Life in a peaceful Little Rock neighborhood. These were the sounds and sights Mitch had experienced all his life. He had spent a month one summer during high school working on a friend’s rural family farm, and although he had enjoyed the experience, he’d learned then that he wasn’t really suited to country living. He liked living in the city.
Because it was separated into such distinct neighborhoods, Little Rock was known as a good-size city with a small-town feel. The largest in the state, the capitol city had a population of just less than 700,000. It had its share of urban issues, like any metropolis. Some neighborhoods struggled with poverty, crime and drugs, and he had seen the results of those problems all too often during his training at the teaching hospital. The children’s hospital where he worked now had received national acclaim for its excellence, and he was proud to be associated with it. And yet…
He wished he knew for sure whether the restiveness inside him was a result of wanderlust or some other deficiency in his life. Would he be more enthusiastic about settling permanently into a place of his own—like those houses he’d toured the past Saturday—if he had someone special with whom to share that house? A family to fill the empty bedrooms? His own dog in his own backyard?
For some reason, he glanced up toward Jacqui’s bedroom window then, seeing no lights shining there. Was she lying awake replaying their kisses in her mind? Did she, too, ache with a hunger to carry those embraces further? Were her nerves still thrumming, her skin still oversensitized, her pulse still erratic—as his were? Or was she sleeping peacefully up there alone, maybe even relieved that they had been interrupted before they’d both gotten carried away by attraction and proximity?
He rose abruptly. “Okay, dog, I’m going to bed. Alice will be home tomorrow, so you’ll get plenty of attention then.”
Assuming, of course, that Jacqui didn’t lock the girl in her room until her father was home again to take over her supervision, he thought, only half-jokingly. He couldn’t say he would blame Jacqui for being tempted to do just that.
Locking the kitchen door behind him and resetting the alarm system, he turned out the lights and headed quietly up the stairs. He had to pass Jacqui’s door on the way to his room. He paused when he heard a sound from inside. Had she said something to him?
The sound came again, and this time he heard the distress in her voice. Nightmare? He tapped lightly on the door. “Jacqui? You okay?”
When there was no answer, he cracked the door open just to be sure she was all right, peeking through the opening into the darkened room. “Jacqui?”
She stirred restlessly against her pillows, making another soft but infinitely sad sound. Abandoning discretion, he moved across the room, sitting on the side of the bed to place a hand lightly on her face. “Jacqui. It’s okay. You’re dreaming.”
He could just make out her face in the shadows. Her eyes opened, their depths glittering with unshed tears. She sounded dazed and disoriented when she said, “What?”
“You were dreaming,” he repeated gently. “Sounded like a bad one. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She reached up to rub a hand over her face, swiping her cheeks as if to make sure they were dry. “I’m okay. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was just passing your door on my way to bed. I wouldn’t have even heard you if I’d been in my room.”
“What time is it?”
He glanced at the clock. “Eleven-thirty. I’ve been outside chatting with Waldo.”
Apparently, he’d sat outside longer than he had realized.
She drew a deep breath, and he was pleased to note that she sounded steadier now. “Go get some sleep, Mitch. I’m fine, thanks.”
“Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”