been a lot of cases of PTSD, military personnel in Iraq, most who learn to manage the illness incurred while on duty.” He lowered his leg and leaned forward. The interest in his eyes mixed with his sympathetic tone.
“Yes, the doctors said the same thing. Except it’s not just the illness. I don’t have the same feelings for Beck. I’m not sure we can even be friends.” She witnessed the pity in Dr. Ramio’s eyes and lowered her glance to the floor. She didn’t want or need sympathy. Her folks choose not to support her. Beck’s parents denied Justin as their grandson. Townspeople believed she was a whore. And the man she truly loved was marrying another woman. Commiseration was the last thing she needed.
“A month ago I ended our engagement, which was best for both of us. I’m going to finish school. Justin and I will begin again.” She loosened Justin’s shirt from under his arm where the fabric had wrinkled during the fidgeting.
“Shania?” Dr. Raimo whispered.
She glanced at him, shocked at his using her given name with an intimate tone. Should she run or stay and hear him out? The nurse remained outside, right?
“You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re an excellent mother to an amazingly bright boy. Accomplishing as much as you have with such limited resources should make people clap in your honor, not shun you.” His brown eyes held sincerity and another emotion she couldn’t place.
Heat rose to her face. In the past three years, she hadn’t heard praise, other than from Morgan. “Thank you.”
“Since Justin’s no longer my patient, I’ll tell you something personal about me.”
Her chest restriction lightened because of his compliment. Her cheeks didn’t burn as much as they had a moment ago. She shook her head. Had he said Justin wasn’t his patient anymore? “Are you dumping us?”
“No. Well, in a way. I’m going to be a professor in the Medical Center at the university. We’ll both be on campus. Perhaps we could get together for coffee sometime?” He smiled and pulled a white business card from his lab coat.
She’d had very little sleep the last several days and the drama today made her uncomprehending. “You’re moving to Briarwood?”
“Yes, in three weeks. I want to teach and help pave the way for new physicians.” He wrote on the blank side of the paper. “Now, tell me about the robe. Why are you wearing a choir gown with glittery shoes?”
“Remember my friend Morgan? He came with me when Justin had check-ups?”
He nodded and tucked the pen into his jacket pocket.
“He’s getting married today, and I was to be in the wedding. Because of Justin’s illness, I tried to get out of going to the ceremony but Morgan’s fiancée can be very intimidating.” She tucked a curl behind her ear. Her chest continued to ache.
“Bridezilla?”
She grinned. “At the least.” A sigh escaped. “I made the mistake of telling Morgan not to marry her and she overheard.”
“Because?” He leaned forward as if curious to hear.
What was wrong with her, revealing everything to a man she barely knew? He was her son’s doctor, not her psychiatrist. She smoothed the cloth of her robe and didn’t look at his face. She had to hide the grief and love for the man she’d left in the church chapel. “I had my reasons.”
Shania readjusted Justin’s weight and snuck a peek at Dr. Raimo. His eyes held sadness. Would he think her pathetic, asking another man to not marry his bride minutes before he was to say I do? Probably. It sounded very bad in her head right now.
Dr. Raimo grinned. “The bridal party was wearing choir robes in the wedding?”
She chuckled. “No. The bride insisted I remove the dress so she could get a replacement on the spot. The robe was the first thing I saw to cover myself.” Shania crossed her ankles and took a sip of the cool water. “I wanted immediate help for Justin, so I came here directly.”
“They exchanged vows anyway?” He lifted an eyebrow.
Why wouldn’t they? The town slut tells a groom on his wedding day she loves him. They’d get a good laugh for months from that one. She leaned her cheek on Justin’s shoulder and wiped away her own tear.
“I assume. I removed the dress and ran.” She set the water bottle down and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Which I need to do again in order to get ready for the move.”
She tucked Justin close and unsteadily rose. Grabbing the bag, she took off at a fast trot toward the door.
Dr. Raimo raced her to the entry. His hand pressed the handle down. Between his fingers he held the business card. “Maybe I’ll see you on campus. Here’s my card, call me if you need medical help or a referral.”
Chapter 3
Justin rested comfortably in his crib. Shania couldn’t sleep. She glanced at her cellphone–ten o’clock. Not late by any means, but the movers were scheduled at seven in the morning. Once they arrived in Briarwood, she’d have a long day of unpacking what was necessary. However, most important of all was taking care of Justin.
She walked around the boxes, making sure they were sealed. The rustic golden wall paint looked dingy without artwork to enhance the color. Her lips curved in memory of her and Morgan painting the house. He’d hated the “baby poop” color she’d chosen for the living room until she muted the tone with an amber glaze. Then the ambiance became Tuscan as she’d planned.
Morgan. Her breath held for a few seconds and then started. Had he gone ahead and married Patty? Maybe he’d misunderstood her declaration. Perhaps she shouldn’t have run. Could she have stood in front of him wearing only a strapless bra, thong and high heels? No, she’d never exposed her body in public and probably wouldn’t have removed the dress if it wasn’t for the confidence she’d gained from working at Companion Connections. The job built her self-assurance and as a result she could–would–speak her mind.
As if she had a choice in removing the gown. Wanting to escape an awkward situation, she stepped out of her shell. Thank goodness the choir robes were nearby.
Returning the gown was easier than she’d thought it would be. Shania stopped at a store near Morgan’s church to get the special drinks the nurse recommended instead of juice for Justin. A dry cleaner was two doors down. She changed into a pair of shorts and shirt stored in the trunk of her car and dropped off the black chorus gown to be cleaned. Fortunately they did business with the minister and promised to add it to their next order. Thankful, she paid and left, noting the cathedral’s parking lot was empty. Two hours had passed since she arrived at the doctor’s. A vacant lot wasn’t a sign that the wedding had been canceled, but her spirit raised anyway.
Shania closed her eyes, keeping the pain at bay. She walked around the packing crates to the front door and stepped outside into the balmy night, leaving the entrance ajar enough to hear her son. She glanced at the gray rectangle mailbox attached to the cream siding and a sliver of excitement ran through her. Her fingernail slid between the lid and box. Would there be a message from Morgan, stating “I was here, where were you?” She glanced inside. No mail. No love note. No future with Morgan. Deep seated misery made her throat hurt. She leaned her forehead against the frame of the doorway and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to cry. She hadn’t cried for Beck when she said goodbye, yet now she wanted to open the gates and flood the last of her tissues.
“Shania?”
She sniffed back the dribble, brushed her nose with the back of her hand and swiveled around. Her gut clenched in agonizing fear. Morgan wore his black tux without the tie and corsage. His shirt had been unbuttoned enough to show a t-shirt beneath. He looked like a movie star in his breathtaking beauty. She loved him. Her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t smile. “You look like the newest double oh-seven.”
“We need to talk,” he