A Perfect Homecoming. Lisa Dyson

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СКАЧАТЬ in his office. His first patient isn’t due for another fifteen minutes.”

      Ashleigh pointed to the closed door that led to her father’s office when he’d owned the practice. “I’ll peek in for just a minute.”

      She knocked quietly on the door and heard, “Come in.” She slowly opened the door and stuck her head in the room.

      Stan Mitchell’s eyes widened and he smiled. He held up one finger and ended his phone call. “Let me know if the fever continues with the new antibiotic.” He hung up the phone, rose slowly from his chair and came around the desk. “Come in, come in! It’s so good to see you!” He hugged Ashleigh and it crossed her mind that this man she didn’t know that well was giving her such a warm welcome, while others she’d known for years had barely acknowledged her presence.

      He held her at arm’s length and looked at her. “So how are you? What brings you here?”

      She quickly updated him on her life and explained in minimal terms why she was in town. Yet, during their conversation, she got the distinct feeling that there was something wrong with Stan.

      “Are you feeling all right?”

      “Busy as usual,” he said. “You know how it is.”

      When Ashleigh moved to Richmond, Stan had taken over the pediatric practice she’d inherited from her father upon his death. Stan had grown up in Grand Oaks but had spent his medical career at a children’s hospital on the West Coast. The high stress level had worn him down, so he’d gratefully accepted the position in Grand Oaks.

      “Well, just make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” Ashleigh wasn’t convinced he was simply overworked. “I can help out while I’m in town, you know. Come in a few hours a day to give you a break.”

      “What about your sister? I thought you were here for her.” At least Stan didn’t give her a flat-out no.

      “She doesn’t need me twenty-four seven—in fact she’d probably like the break. The boys are in school during the day, so I can come in the morning, go home to get Paula lunch and then come back for an hour or two until the boys get home.”

      Stan lowered himself onto the corner of the desk. “If you think you can do it all, then I’d be grateful. I am feeling kind of worn-out these days. My wife’s been complaining that I barely have enough energy to eat dinner.” He laughed, but Ashleigh’s concern heightened. “I probably need some B vitamins to perk me up.”

      They set up a schedule for the rest of the week and Ashleigh went on her way. Other than forcing him into a doctor’s office for a physical, she wasn’t sure what else she could have done. Next time she saw him, though, she’d push the physical idea. One step at a time.

      * * *

      AFTER A QUIET MORNING in the E.R., there had been a sudden rush of patients when Kyle was about to take an early lunch break. Now it was nearly one and his starvation was finally appeased after finishing a turkey sub and two apples.

      “There you are.” The young female voice behind Kyle startled him. “You didn’t answer your page so they sent me to look for you.”

      He turned to answer the young student nurse. “What’s up, Katelyn?” He checked the beeper at his waist, wondering why he hadn’t felt it. He must have been really hungry not to notice.

      “Dr. Mitchell was brought into the E.R. with an apparent heart attack. Ms. Snyder thought you’d like to know,” she said, referring to the E.R. ward clerk.

      “Stan Mitchell?” The guy was in his mid-fifties. At the girl’s timid bob of her head, Kyle rose from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “Thanks,” he said over his shoulder, and hurried through the busy hallways to the E.R.

      “What’s Dr. Mitchell’s status?” he asked breathlessly of the E.R. ward clerk.

      “He’s in curtain three,” she said. “His wife is over there.” She pointed toward the waiting room where a petite blonde was wringing her hands.

      Kyle turned on his heel to speak to Stan’s wife, unable to recall her first name. He pulled a metal chair closer to the youthful-looking woman probably in her mid-forties and sat. “I’m Kyle Jennings, Mrs. Mitchell. Stan took over my ex-wife’s pediatric practice.” The term “ex-wife” would never flow smoothly off his tongue.

      She nodded her head. “Yes, I remember you. We met at that hospital fund-raiser.” Her eyes were red and puffy. “Is Stan going to be okay? One minute he was talking to me at lunch and the next—”

      “I’m going to see how he’s doing and I’ll let you know.” Kyle stood and put a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it gently before hurrying off to curtain three.

      The E.R. doctor on duty exited from Stan’s curtained area. “How is he?” Kyle asked.

      “Lucky,” Chuck Borden answered. “His wife was with him and was able to get the first responders there quickly. She did chest compressions until they took over. They almost lost him in the ambulance.”

      Unbelievable. The cardiologist on duty would order tests to find out how much damage Stan’s heart had endured. At least now he had a good chance of recovery.

      “I’ll let his wife know he’s stable and that she can come sit with him.”

      Chuck nodded and made a notation on Stan’s chart.

      As Kyle walked back to the waiting room, a thought occurred to him. Ashleigh would have to deal with Stan’s health issues and necessary absence since she still owned the practice.

      Kyle wasn’t sure why she hadn’t sold it. Beyond family, it was her last tie to the town.

      Now he needed to figure out how to get someone else to make the call to Ashleigh to let her know Stan’s condition.

      He dialed her pediatric practice from memory and the office manager answered. Cammie was the perfect choice to pass on the news about Stan to Ashleigh.

      * * *

      AFTER LEAVING HER pediatric office, Ashleigh spent the morning stopping at a few of her favorite places in town. There were some things she couldn’t get in Richmond that she’d grown accustomed to in Grand Oaks. Like the homemade bread from Mama’s Bakery on Market Street and a fresh supply of dry red wine from Mossy Oak Vineyard.

      She’d barely pulled into the parking lot of the vineyard, located about two miles out of town, when her cell phone rang.

      Why would someone from her pediatric practice be calling? “Hello?”

      “Dr. Wilson?”

      “Yes?” Ashleigh answered.

      “This is Cammie, um, Cammie Varrone, the office manager at Dr. Mitchell’s—I mean your— pediatric office.”

      “Yes, Cammie, what is it?”

      “Well, I’m afraid Dr. Mitchell is in the hospital—”

      “Oh, no! What happened? Is he all right?” Ashleigh’s heart was in her throat as she СКАЧАТЬ