Pressing together the Velcro seams of the new SpongeBob stethoscope sleeve she’d just received from her favorite Etsy shop, London made her way to the Under the Sea room. Jason Milner wasn’t on her patient list today, but the ten-year-old was being discharged, and London couldn’t let him leave without saying goodbye.
The gut-wrenching thing was that she would probably see him again in a few months. He had been born with a congenital heart defect that required multiple surgeries.
She tapped her knuckles on the door twice before entering.
“Hello there,” London greeted Jason and his parents. “I heard someone is going home today.”
When he saw her, Jason’s smile grew as bright as the Austin skyline. London was continually amazed by his ability to maintain such a positive outlook after everything he’d been through in his short life.
Just as she made it to the ten-year-old’s bedside, there was another knock on the door and Kia Jackson walked in.
“Dr. Kelley? Can I see you outside?”
“Sure, one minute,” London said. She turned to Jason and gave him a hug. “Sorry I can’t stay longer, buddy. Now, I don’t want to see you here for a while, you hear me?”
He nodded.
“Dr. Kelley.” The underlying hint of distress in Kia’s voice immediately set London on edge.
She gave Jason’s shoulder a squeeze before leaving the room. “What’s going on?” she asked the minute she and the nurse were in the hallway.
“You’re needed in the ER.”
“I’m not on call.”
“It’s your father,” Kia said. “He was brought in an hour ago.”
“Shit.” London took off down the corridor. She bypassed the elevators, opting instead for the stairs. She released a string of curse words as she made her way down the two flights, the fear in her stomach knotting tighter with each step she took.
Her father had been in her hospital for an hour already, and she was just finding out?
She spotted Xander Caldwell the moment she exited the stairwell. Doug Renault had recruited the senior resident the same year he’d brought London to County.
“Xander.” London caught him on the arm. “You have a patient that was brought in an hour ago. Black male. Late fifties. Bald with a goatee. Very fit.”
“Yes. Mr. Kelley.” His eyes widened. “Is he—”
She nodded. “My dad.”
“Wow. I didn’t put two and two together.” He pointed to his face. “You have his eyes.”
“I know,” London said. “How is he? Where is he?”
“First, don’t get too alarmed,” he said. “It was just a TIA.”
“Thank goodness,” London said, her shoulders wilting in relief. No one campaigned for a transient ischemic attack, but if you were going to have a stroke, that’s the kind you wanted.
“He’s in Exam 3,” Xander said.
London thanked him before crossing over to the exam room. She found Kenneth Kelley sitting upright on the exam table, dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. He held his phone out about eight inches from his face and was laughing at whoever was on the other end of the video call.
“I had a stroke and two bogeys, and still whipped your tail today,” he said.
Golf? The man was talking about fucking golf?
Why was she surprised?
“Hello, Dad,” London said as she walked to his bedside.
He looked past the phone, his brow wrinkling with subtle irritation. “I’ll catch up with you later, Percy,” he said before disconnecting the call and setting the phone in his lap.
“Hello, London,” he said.
She motioned to the phone. “You had time to call your golf buddies, but didn’t have time to call your own daughter to let her know you were in the ER of the hospital where she works?”
“You’re a pediatrician. What could you have done for me?”
The strained tension that consistently hovered between her and her dad surged. London fought against it, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from lashing out. Instead, she peered at the patient monitor, reading his vitals.
Once she was certain she could speak without initiating World War III, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone who could have finished his round of golf,” Kenneth answered.
“You had a stroke.”
“The other doctor said it was just a ministroke. I’m fine.” He grunted. “Percy only called the ambulance because I was three shots ahead of him, and he knows I play the back nine at the club better than he does.”
London rolled her eyes. “A ministroke is still a stroke. TIAs are a warning sign that something more catastrophic may happen if you don’t take your doctor’s orders seriously.”
Thoughts of the pancakes and bacon she’d had at Kerbey Lane the other day immediately popped into her head, but London mentally batted them away. This was about her dad’s health scare, not her own.
“April said that you were placed on a new statin,” London continued. “Have you been taking it?”
“It appears I need to have a talk with my wife. I know you’re a doctor and all, but that doesn’t mean she has to share information about my health with you.”
“She didn’t share it with me, she shared it with my mom. So maybe tell your current wife not to share your health information with your ex-wife.”
The unconventional friendship between her mother and stepmother was baffling, but London had stopped trying to understand it years ago.
“And even though I am nothing more than a lowly pediatric surgeon, I know what happens to adults when they don’t take the medications they’ve been prescribed. High cholesterol and high blood pressure can lead to serious issues.”
Shit. Was she talking to her dad or herself here?
Just then, the door opened and Xander Caldwell walked in.
“Ah, you found him,” he said to London. To her dad he said, “You should have mentioned you were Dr. Kelley’s father. Not that the family of hospital royalty gets preferential treatment or anything, but it would have been good to know,” he said with a wink. He held up his tablet. “I assume it’s okay if Dr. Kelley remains in the room as we go over your CT scan?”
London thought for a moment that Kenneth would answer no, but he nodded.
The CT scan confirmed a transient ischemic attack. She listened as Xander listed the litany of things her father should do to prevent further TIAs, and realized how many of them she wasn’t practicing herself. Limit sodium and alcohol intake. Reduce stress. Exercise regularly.
Could she count what she and Drew had spent the week doing in bed as exercise? The sex was vigorous, but probably not physically exerting enough to prevent a stroke.
“It’s still your call, but I don’t think it’s necessary to go through with the transfer to St. David’s,” Xander was saying.
“Transfer?” London whipped her head around. “Why was that even discussed for a TIA? He’s not being admitted, is he?”
The doctor shook his head. “No, but he requested it.”
She looked to her dad. “Why?”
But she didn’t need an answer. She already knew. His bougie ass thought he was too good for a state-run hospital.
“Let me guess, you tried to pay the EMTs to bring you to another hospital, but County was closer.” London released a derisive snort before she could stop herself. “Don’t worry, both Xander and I went to school with some of the doctors at St. David’s. The only difference between us is that their scrubs aren’t as threadbare.”
“I’m more familiar with the care at St. David’s,” her dad stated.
“Uh-huh,” London said.
“Can I cancel the transfer?” Xander asked.
“Yes,” London said.
“Umm…Mr. Kelley?” Xander asked. “Sorry, Dr. Kelley, but this is the patient’s call.”
“If you think it is unnecessary, I will go along with that, Dr. Caldwell,” Kenneth said.
Xander nodded. “I’ll have the nurses start on your discharge forms.” Then he left the exam room.
“You are nothing if not true to form,” London said.
“I can say the same about you,” Kenneth replied. “The check I wrote you still hasn’t been cashed.”
And it wouldn’t be. It would remain right where she’d stashed it, in the junk drawer in her kitchen.
During a rare visit to her house a couple of months ago, Kenneth noticed her neighbor’s newly added porte cochere and decided London’s Hyde Park bungalow needed one, as well. He’d written her a check on the spot for twenty thousand dollars to cover the cost.
Writing a check was his answer to everything.
London had no illusions that his offer had anything to do with wanting to make sure she didn’t get drenched while running from her car to her house. He wanted to be able to show his golf buddies the porte cochere he’d given to his daughter, to puff out his chest at his law firm’s office parties while his associates oohed and aahed at his generosity.
“I already told you that I don’t want or need any additions to my house,” London said. “And if I did, I can cover the cost myself.” Before he could launch a rebuttal, she asked, “Is April coming to get you?”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I can get home.”
“Dad,” London said.
“She’ll be here soon. She’s picking the kids up from school.”
It figured that her stepmom was out taking care of London’s three younger siblings while Kenneth, if he hadn’t been in the ER, would have been playing the back nine at his country club. It was disappointing—but not surprising—to see that some things never changed.
“Tell her that I’m sorry I missed her, but I can’t stick around.”
It was Friday, and she was already running late for her dinner with Taylor and Samiah.
London leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he had already turned his attention back to his phone. She’d been dismissed.
That’s what she got for presuming they could have something that even came close to a normal father-daughter relationship. She didn’t even say goodbye as she left the room.
Forty-five minutes later, London was turning down Gibson Street in South Austin.
She made the sign of the cross before she parallel parked her Mini between two monster trucks, next to Odd Duck, the restaurant Samiah had chosen for this week’s girls’ night out. She got out of the car and checked the front and rear bumpers. She still had two inches to spare on each side.
“Not bad.” She pointed up at the sky. “Good looking out.”
As she walked past the restaurant’s wall of windows, she caught sight of Samiah and Taylor sitting at a table. She maneuvered around the pockets of people waiting to get inside, muttering, “Excuse me,” about a dozen times before she finally reached the entrance. It was just like Samiah to pick the place where all of Austin wanted to spend their Friday night.
It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that both London and Taylor had realized that Samiah always seemed to choose the place for their weekly gathering. But then they both conceded that neither of them wanted to go through the hassle of seeking out happy hours around the city. Besides, other than that fondue place a couple of months ago—no one needs to eat that much cheese—Samiah picked some real winners.
“My friends are already seated,” London told the woman standing at the hostess desk.
She strode across the stained concrete floor, holding her hands up in apology as she approached the table. Samiah and Taylor were used to her showing up late due to her unpredictable work schedule. Still, London felt bad about always making them wait.
Not that they ever actually waited to get started. The table was crowded with colorful frozen drinks and an array of fragrant dishes.
“Sorry I’m late,” London said, taking the seat opposite Samiah and snatching a roasted carrot from one of the plates before she even set her purse down. “It turns out this is the week for emergency appendectomies. I swear the eight-year-olds in Austin have a pact going or something.” She considered mentioning her dad’s showing up in the ER, but talking about his health scare could easily lead to a conversation about her own health. She wasn’t up for a lecture from Taylor.
Instead, she picked up the menu and scanned the cocktails. “So, how was everyone’s week?”
When neither spoke, London lowered her menu to find them both staring at her with odd looks.
“What?” she asked.
“Exactly how much sex have you been getting lately?” Taylor asked.
“Excuse me?” London asked with a shocked laugh.
“You’re glowing, honey,” Samiah said. “I mean, you are practically effervescent. There is only one thing I can think of that puts that look on a woman’s face.”
“You cannot tell just by looking at me,” London said.
“Oh, really?” Taylor held her phone up and snapped a picture, then turned the screen so that it faced London.
She leaned forward and squinted at the image. “I’ll be damned,” London muttered. She had to admit that she looked well and thoroughly fucked, in a totally good way.
“Told ya,” Samiah said with a grin. She rested her chin in her upturned palm and asked, “Is it the former classmate?”
“It is,” London confirmed. “It’s been kind of a daily thing since the reunion last weekend.”
“Daily? Damn, girl,” Taylor said.
“Well, you did have quite a long dry spell,” Samiah pointed out. “I don’t blame you for making up for lost time. But I thought this guy was from out of town? Is he hanging around Austin because he can’t drag himself away from you?”
London was about to respond when the server arrived to take her drink order. She gestured to the pale pink slushy cocktail in front of Samiah. “What’s that one?”
“That’s our spicy hibiscus margarita,” the server said. “It’s a fan favorite.”
“It’s the sole reason I wanted to come to this place, and it alone makes the drive across the Congress Avenue Bridge worth it,” Samiah said.
“Sounds good to me,” London said. “Can I also get the Wagyu burger—medium rare? Wait.” She held up a hand. “Umm…actually, change that to grilled salmon and a house salad with balsamic dressing on the side.”
“No problem,” the server said before collecting London’s menu.
“I had a big lunch,” London offered in an attempt to stave off inquires from her friends, but Taylor seemed more interested in talking about Drew than London’s dinner choices.
“So,” Taylor said. “How do you spend the entire week shagging a guy you hate? That doesn’t seem like you.”
“Yeah, where did you even find the time?” Samiah asked. “I thought you had a bunch of surgeries scheduled this week.”
“The fact that Drew is working at the hospital helps with logistics,” London said.
“Working at the hospital?” Samiah asked with a frown. “Is he a doctor?”
“Wait.” London held up her hands. “I just realized I haven’t spoken to either of you since we met up at Kerbey Lane on Sunday.”
“No, you’ve been too busy getting it on with your old classmate,” Taylor said.
“That’s just the half of it,” London said. She snagged another carrot from Samiah’s plate. “We have so much to talk about, ladies.”
“Start with the part about him working at the hospital,” Samiah said. “I’m confused.”
London spotted the server approaching with her drink and waved her over.
“Perfect timing. I need a little alcohol in me before I dive into this story.” Eating broiled fish instead of the burger she was craving would have to be good enough for tonight, because she would not deprive herself of alcohol. She took a sip of her margarita. “Oh, this is good. Too bad I arrived so late. I won’t have time to get a second.” She set the glass down and folded her hands on the table. “Who’s ready to hear about how my luck is absolute shit these days?”
She started with how she fell back into bed with Drew last Sunday afternoon when she returned to his hotel for her purse. Then she told them about the shock she received when she walked into the meeting on Monday to find him sitting at the table next to Dr. Coleman.
“Can you believe that? My past nemesis and current nemesis sitting elbow to elbow. I swear I heard the theme music from The Twilight Zone playing in the background.”
“That is the stuff of nightmares,” Samiah said.
Taylor made a speed it up motion with her hand. “I have a long drive back home. Get to the part where you two start going at it like rabbits.”
“We are not going at it like rabbits,” London said. She tipped her head to the side. “Okay, maybe we are, but that’s beside the point.” She hiked her shoulders up to her ears. “I can’t explain what’s happening here. I’ve hardly thought about this man since high school, and the few times I did think about him in the last fifteen years, it was never in a positive light. Yet I’m probably going to text him once I get back to my car and ask if I can stop by his place on my way home to bone. It makes zero sense.”
“It makes all the sense.” Taylor laughed. “It’s like Samiah said, you’re making up for lost time. You deserve this, girl.” She picked up her phone and swiped across the screen. “What’s his name again? I’m going to Google him. I need to see what Magic Mike looks like.”
“His name is Drew,” London said. “And you don’t need to bother with Google. I can show you.” She pulled up Tabitha Rawlings’s Facebook page and scrolled back to her pictures from last Saturday. The girl was not subtle at all. Drew was in just about every single snapshot she’d taken.
Obsessed much?
London found one that showed a full-on face view. Have mercy. She had to stop herself from licking her lips before turning the phone to Taylor and Samiah.
“Whoa,” Samiah said.
“My God,” Taylor said. “You weren’t kidding, were you? And he’s rich too? Not that it matters, but it also doesn’t hurt.”
London pulled her phone back and glanced at the picture one more time before setting the phone facedown on the table.
“It doesn’t matter. I own my house outright and am totally satisfied driving a Tinker Bell car, as my mom calls it,” she said. “I could not care less about Drew’s money. I only wish I felt the same way about his pipe-laying skills.” She shook her head, taking another sip of her drink. “It’s been a week and I still can’t believe that of all the hospital management consulting firms in the entire world, it’s Drew’s firm that is working at County.”
“Well, it’s not totally unbelievable,” Samiah said. “There can’t be all that many firms that specialize in this type of work, right? And he does have a local tie.” She shrugged. “When you think about it, the odds are pretty high that his firm would be the one working with your hospital, especially if his firm has a good reputation.”
“You and your logic are raining on my pity parade,” London said.
“What’s there to pity?” Taylor asked. “This sounds like exactly what you’ve been looking for. I know you wanted to find a fuck buddy you wouldn’t have to see at the hospital every day, but it sounds as if this Drew won’t be there permanently, right?”
“No, he won’t be,” London answered. “Another three weeks or so.”
“Okay, that is beyond perfect!”
“Exactly,” Samiah said, tipping her margarita glass at Taylor. She looked to London. “You may think you’ve had bad luck lately, but that glow indicates otherwise. It looks to me as if you’re one of the luckiest women in Austin.”
“The problem is, I don’t want to want Drew Sullivan,” London said. “I swear, I would be shitting rainbows and unicorns if this was anyone else—”
“Except Craig,” Taylor said.
“Never that creep. But Drew isn’t all that far from Craig when it comes to men I’d consider being in a real relationship with.”
Even as she said the words, London knew they weren’t true. He did not belong near the same category as Craig Johnson, and it wasn’t fair to put him there. She didn’t know Drew well enough to decide whether she would consider being in a relationship with him. It had been a single week since they’d reconnected, and there hadn’t been much talking going on in the time they had spent together so far.
Much of her antipathy toward him was rooted in a grudge she’d been holding on to since high school. A grudge that, if she were being honest, didn’t have as much to do with Drew as it had to do with how Drew’s emergence as an academic rival had dulled London’s ability to shine bright enough to draw her father’s attention. Being number one in her class had given her dad something to brag about to the men in his golfing circle. My daughter is almost best didn’t have quite the same panache.
Maybe she should work on disassociating Drew from her messed-up issues with her dad. It wasn’t fair that she’d held something that wasn’t even his fault against him all this time.
Then again, he would be gone soon. Why did it matter?
She wasn’t looking to start a relationship with Drew. What they had going right now suited her needs just fine. He’d been at the hospital for a week, but she rarely saw him there, which was precisely how she wanted it. Once her shift was over, she drove the few blocks to his rented apartment with the ridiculously comfortable bed and spent several hours getting thoroughly fucked. Then she went home. Why couldn’t she be satisfied with that?
She was satisfied. As long as things remained exactly as they were, she would get her fill of Drew Sullivan and then happily bid him farewell once he was done with his work at County.