The Heart (3 page)

“Sir, we’ve done nothing but open technique. If I can just try my hands at laparo—”

“I’m aware that we haven’t operated
laparoscopic
. I’m not some dinosaur who believes that I’ll be replaced by machines and afraid to adapt to newer, better, and less evasive procedures. I was the first to use that technique in this hospital. It’s important to learn both. I didn’t feel I needed to explain myself to you.”

“No, sir,” I said as I sank a little into my seat.

Teacher, student, McGuire, got it.

“While I commend you on your future plans, I must say I’m a little disappointed that I have no other candidate for my fellowship as of now. I’m sure someone will come along, more in tune, more attentive, and more talented than you, but until that day comes, I’m going to govern over your surgical education with good care. You and your sister have taken on one hell of a feat, and you need to be prepared. You being my priority, until I find someone else to mentor, I will have to insist you start standing in on some surgeries more involved in your new specialty.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, having a ridiculously hard time hiding my excitement.

“Good,” he said, standing and taking off his lab coat before replacing it with a pea coat. “You’re on call for the next three days. Get some R & R. Actually, my advice to you is to live a little, Dr. Whittaker. And when you return, get ready to get uncomfortable again.”

I knew what that meant. I would be a bit clueless in the operating room like I was the first day of surgery, and the day after that, and the weeks and months that followed. No matter how prepared I thought I was or how confident, the skilled surgeons had made it their mission to rattle me to the core.

As I exited Dr. McGuire’s office, I was thankful for that damned article. In its own way, it was just the pat on the shoulder I needed to keep going.

“You know, Rose, I know you feel it, too. It’s okay to be a little afraid. But this is how the good ones start.”

“The good ones?”

“The great ones. This will be a great one.” –Grant

“If a pilot can land a plane safely on the Hudson and save one hundred and fifty-five people, you can get out of bed, Rose.”

“Aunt Wose,” Grant said, tugging at my scrubs. “Aunt Wose!” He had been chasing the ducks for the better part of twenty minutes while I remained lost in thought. “Come on, Aunt Wose!” I watched Grant as he wiggled his little body onto the passenger seat of the golf cart, waving his arms. “Wet’s go, wets go!”

I grinned at him. “Okay, buddy.” This would be our fourth trip within the hour. I took one last look at the pond and jumped in the seat next to Grant as he clapped with excitement. “Okay, baby blue, let’s go,” I said, putting the golf cart into gear and making our way down the paved sidewalk and through the grounds. It was a hot August day, and I was thankful for the light breeze as we made our way from the pond back to the center. We were building one of the largest cancer treatment centers in Texas and had expanded it to the point of needing transportation from one building to the next, not to mention the one-and-a-half-mile trek back to my house, which sat at the very back of the land. Some days, especially on hot days like this, it was too far to walk.

“Faster, Aunt Wose.” Grant giggled as we took a speed bump, arms flailing in the air, his face animated. I pressed the gas and took another, launching us into the air a bit just to hear the giggle I loved so much. When we made it back to the main building, I parked the cart then grabbed Grant before he could get away, pulling him into my arms as I covered him in kisses.

“Aunt Wose, no! I big boy now.”

“Oh no you’re not! You’ll always be my baby,” I said, nuzzling his neck as he squirmed in my arms. He was only twenty months old but had assumed the role of the man in my life. Grant had a head of thick black hair and clear blue dazzling eyes like his father, Dean, but when it came to attitude, he was my sister, Dallas.

“Who told you that you were a big boy?”

“Mommy towd me. I pee peed in da potty today,” he said as he wiggled down onto the pavement.

“You pee peed in the potty!” I clapped excitedly, chasing him around the cart as he squealed and ran to get away from me. I caught him then lifted him high above me. He started to protest when I again soaked him in another set of unwanted kisses. I checked for a diaper and was relieved when I could still feel the bulge of it in his pants.

I wasn’t ready.

I looked up to find we had an admirer approaching us. My instinct had me pulling Grant tighter to me, but when I got a better view, I almost dropped my precious nephew. The stranger was tall and hellishly built. His short hair scattered perfectly around his crown in varying shades of blond. His eyes were somewhere between blue and gray and were outlined with the thickest lashes I had ever seen. His masculine features were in perfect symmetry. His only flaw, if you could even call it that, was a faint white scar on the top of his lip. He was the whole fucking package, the second coming of Brad Pitt from the movie
Thelma and Louise
.

His smile seemed genuine, and I couldn’t help but take in the way his white dress shirt clung to his chest in the Texas heat.

“Aunt Wose, wet me go!” I snapped out of my daze and kissed Grant again then set him down.

“Can I help you?”

“You must be Rose.”

“Yes,” I said, curious as to how he knew who I was.

“You look a lot like your dad.” I ran through the scenarios of who he could be then jumped a little in recognition.

“Jack,” I said with an easy smile. “My father told me you were coming today. How was your trip? Alabama, right?”

“Louisiana, actually, New Orleans,” he said with a proper Cajun accent sliding off his tongue as he took a long look around the massive complex with a whistle. “You know, when your dad told me what he was up to, I knew I had to jump on board. This is going to be exactly what you and your sister imagined it to be. I’ll make sure of it.” He looked back at me and gave me a wink as little hands once again gripped my scrubs, and the three of us walked through the entrance.

“Aunt Wose?” Grant asked, eyeing our stranger with caution and slight disdain.

“What is it, buddy,” I asked, having a horrible time ripping my eyes away from our visitor.

“Can I have an ice pop?”

“Sure, baby blue,” I said, looking down at him and then back at Jack. “Will you excuse me? I need to go find his mother and get an ice pop. We can meet you back here for a tour.”

“Of course.” He nodded as I took Grant’s hand then went in search of Dallas. I found her in her newly finished office roaming over paperwork with a fidgety eleven-month-old Annabelle in her lap. Much like Grant, her daughter looked not a thing like her, either. I found it hilarious.

She addressed me before I had a chance to speak. “Have you seen a Spaniard around? Tall, gorgeous, and very close to being castrated?”

Before I could answer, Grant had a roundabout question of his own. “Mommy, Aunt Wose, ice pop?”

Dallas caught on, narrowing her eyes at me. She was all wrathy today, and I could feel it rolling off her.

“It’s just a little fruit juice,” I defended with a roll of my eyes as I walked across the hall to the half-finished break room and grabbed a pop from the freezer.

“I can’t believe Dean’s not here! I’m screwed. He was supposed to be here an hour ago before the subcontractor came!” she huffed in frustration.

“Jack’s in the lobby waiting for us,” I confirmed with a wince.

“Shit,” she said, flustered as Annabelle ripped at her shirt with chubby hands. She stood and made her way to her office blinds to get a look at Jack. I saw her body stiffen before she turned to me with a slow smile spreading across her face. I hated that smile. It reminded me of the torturous antics I’d had to endure from her as a child. “Sorry, Rose, you’re on your own.”

“No way. Dad isn’t here, either, and I can’t answer all his questions! I’ll watch the babies, you go.”

Although I knew the basic plans for the center inside and out, I wasn’t as versed in the details as my father, who hadn’t arrived yet, or Dallas, who had been by his side handling everything while I spent the majority of my days completing my surgical residency at Dallas Memorial. I had a little less than two years to complete my residency. My days off were devoted to the center, but those days were few and far between.

“Sorry, I have the boobs this one needs, and as you can see, she’s starving.” I looked at a perfectly content Annabelle and narrowed my eyes at Dallas.

“He’s hot.”

“So what?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“He’s waiting, that’s what.” Dallas dismissed me, taking her seat behind her desk before waving me away as if that was the end of it.

I wanted to debate her on what was truly important in this situation, but I knew just how hard she was working to get the center ready. I couldn’t give her hell when I’d been more absent than present.

“Fine.”

Jack was in the lobby where I left him. The incessant noise of power tools kept him from hearing my approach. His back was to me, and he was peering through the glass behind what would eventually be an atrium. Instead of interrupting his assessment, I waited for him to turn around.

Okay, maybe I was staring at his ass.

After endless seconds of ogling his tall frame and sexy derrière, I finally spoke up. “How about a tour?!” I yelled over a newly running saw. When he didn’t respond, I lightly tapped his shoulder and caught his reflection in the glass. He’d seen me checking him out and was grinning from ear to ear.

Way to be professional, Whittaker.

Aside from looking the last year, I had done no touching. My heart still wasn’t in it, no matter who caught my eye. I was determined to get back on the horse, at least in the physical sense, but I was hesitant when it came to execution, not that I’d had many opportunities.

Jack turned to me as if I hadn’t just feasted on his perfect, jean-clad ass.

“Sounds good. I’ve already taken a quick tour of the main floor, and I can see your headache coming. Why don’t we tour the grounds first?”

“I don’t see how you can stand the noise,” I said, making my way to the double glass doors of the entrance.

“I love the noise. It lets me know I’m building something,” he replied. He started to ask questions right away, and I made notes of anything I couldn’t answer. As the queries continued, I caught his gaze on my lips more than once. I had a horrible time looking away from the eyes that seemed to be saying something else entirely.

As we made our way outside, I searched the parking lot for my father’s truck but came up empty. I was completely on my own.

Jack and I made our way to the golf cart so I could show him the rest of the grounds. The tour became more intimate in our proximity, and I suddenly wished I had checked my appearance before jumping on the cart. Then again, it was so hot; I couldn’t afford to give a damn. I fisted my wild mane through a hair tie on top of my head for some relief, knowing I probably looked like the adult version of Pebbles from
The
Flintstones.