A Home for the M.D.

He wasn’t sure what had made her think of his upcoming trip. “Somewhat cooler. It’s winter there, you know.”

“Yes.”

“I wish you could go with me. I guess it’s too late to make the arrangements.”

She frowned, obviously startled by his impulsive comment. “Go with you? To Peru?”

“It’s going to be a fun trip. Lots of hiking and sightseeing. I’d enjoy sharing it with you.”

“Like you said, it’s too late to make arrangements for that.”

He wondered if he heard a hint of relief in her voice that she wouldn’t be forced to make that decision.

“Anyway, I’ve already made a commitment, sort of, for my upcoming vacation,” she said a bit too offhandedly. “My mother called earlier. She wants me to visit her and my dad in Denver for a few days.”

“They’re living in Denver now?”

“Yes. Managing an apartment complex there. She said they like it.”

“Was that one of the places you lived with them?”

“No. They’ve only been there a month.”

“Think they’ll stay there?”

She sighed almost imperceptibly. “Who knows? I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if I get a call saying they’ve moved on before I can even make plane reservations.”

“Did you have a good talk with your mom?”

“The usual. She told me what they were up to, asked if I’m still in the same place, called me boring, then asked me to come visit.”

He lifted an eyebrow in response to one item on that list. “Your mother called you boring?”

“Well…maybe not in so many words,” she admitted.

“What words did she use?”

“She said that I’ve always liked my daily routines.”

He thought about that for a moment before asking, “Well? Don’t you?”

Her own pause was a bit longer. “Yeah. I guess I do,” she muttered. “It was just the way she said it…made it sound so dull.”

Mitch laughed. “Trust me, Jacqui. There is nothing dull about you.”

She looked pleased by the compliment. “Thanks.”

He tapped her chin with one finger. “You’re welcome.”

Looking at him through her lashes, she said, “My mother reminded me that next week is the anniversary of my sister’s death. An unnecessary reminder, of course.”

“Do your parents blame you for the accident that killed your sister?” He took a risk asking, but he really wanted to know.

She stiffened a little. “I never said I was driving.”

He merely looked at her.

Jacqui sighed. “I guess it was obvious. I was driving. I’d had my license for less than a month, and had little formal training behind the wheel. Dad just handed me the keys and told me to go get Olivia and me something to eat because he and Mom had other things to do. They planned to spend the evening in a bar close to the motel where we were living, just outside Chicago. A teenager in a sports car ran a red light and hit the old car I was driving, right in the passenger door. I’ve already told you Olivia died on the operating table. I damaged my spleen and had a few broken bones, but she took the brunt of the crash.”