They’d been talking for hours.
“I owe so much to Dr Talbot,” she told Oz. “When I first came to Madison Memorial, I worked wherever they needed me. My long-term goal was to work in the cardiac unit, but I was so nervous my first day there. I’d heard horror stories about what a bear Dr Talbot was and, of course, I’d been assigned to work directly with him.”
Blair smiled at the memory.
“Instead of being a grizzly, he taught me more about cardiac nursing in a week than the entire time I was in school.” She’d soa
ked up every tidbit, every drop of knowledge. “Thanks to his request that I be his personal nurse, I worked hands-on with him from almost the time I graduated from nursing school.”
“He’s a brilliant teacher.” Oz stared into the dark backyard. “The best.”
“He insisted I have formal cardiac training.” She might have gotten a certificate from the school, but the class hadn’t taught her anything Dr Talbot hadn’t already shown her. “Whoever permanently takes his place—God, I hate the thought of him never returning to the hospital—I’ll be qualified to work with them.”
“You won’t have problems keeping up with any heart surgeon, Blair. You’re an excellent cardiac nurse.”
Warmth spread through her at his praise.
“Thanks. If anything new comes up, I’ll learn.” She looked up at the stars. Why did it feel so easy to tell Oz all these things when just the night before, she had still been professing not to like him? Why was she telling him about herself? Why did doing so feel so right?
Did the label of “friend” really make that much of a difference? Or had this ease been there all along but masked by the barriers thrown between them in order to protect her heart?
“You enjoyed school?”
She nodded. “I love learning. Had it not been for Reesee and Addy, I’d have gone further with my education. Perhaps obtaining a master’s or a doctorate degree in acute care. I still may go back at some point.”
“Dr T mentioned that you raised your sister.”
“In many ways, we raised each other.” Blair stared at a tiny plane’s light moving across the sky. “My mother died when I was nineteen. I moved out of my dorm, got an apartment and convinced a judge to give me custody of Reesee. She was thirteen at the time.”
“There wasn’t anyone else to take her in?”
“If you mean, was her father around, the answer is no. He wasn’t. My mother was a good woman and a good mother, but she had a tendency to become involved with men who didn’t stick around.” Just like Blair. “The state was going to put Reesee into foster care. I couldn’t bear that. Besides, I wanted her with me. We’ve always been close.”
“You’ve been a blessing to her.”
“As she’s been to me.” Feeling his gaze on her, she elaborated. “Less than a year after I got custody of Reesee, I gave birth to Addy. Without Reesee’s support and unconditional love, I don’t know where I’d be.”
“You’d be fine, Blair, because you’re strong, a survivor.”
Yes, that was what she’d often told herself. But she rested her head against Oz’s shoulder, just to see how it would feel to lean on someone. A friend.
Silence enveloped them. Blair felt no need to speak, and instead soaked in the sounds around them. Insects. The sea. A car off in the distance. She soaked in Oz’s strength rather than feign any false sense of bravado.
She wasn’t strong, wasn’t brave. She’d simply done what had needed to be done. She’d promised to take care of her sister, and she had. Just as she’d taken care of Addy from the moment she’d discovered the precious life growing inside her body.
Chris had never been a part of Addy’s life, had never shared any of Blair’s joy or fears. How could he when he’d died mere weeks before Blair had discovered her pregnancy?
Why was she bothering with the past? A total waste of her time. She needed to focus on the future. On getting Reesee through college and making sure Addy had a healthy, normal start in life.
Whatever normal was.
Probably not a household of three females and an adopted grandfather figure who was fighting for his life.
Then there was Oz.
Where did he fit into the picture?
As her new friend?