Stella MacLean

The Doctor Returns


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      “Me, too. Wait for me, will you?” he asked, feeling the weight of Lilly’s concerned expression, one he knew only too well. Lilly didn’t like problems, especially those that were unsolvable. When they’d first met, he’d been drawn to her take-charge approach, as had many of his classmates. They’d been dating for two months when she’d asked him to marry her. Flattered and in love, or so he had believed, he’d said yes.

      Lilly Russell was a natural leader, exciting to be around back then. Now, her determination to lead, to take control, grated against his need to go slow, to be more thoughtful and circumspect about life.

      But they’d continued to disregard their differences until the day they’d been forced to accept that the love and excitement had gone from their relationship. There didn’t seem to be any point in blaming each other. They had their own careers. Though they still shared a friendship and a love for Morgan, loving each other had become a distant memory.

      As Lilly walked through the doors, Neill turned his attention to the pile of charts on the counter. “Where do we start?”

      “Follow me,” Sherri said, picking up the charts.

      He matched her stride as they moved down the corridor. “Sherri, it’s great to see you again. I’ve taken over my uncle’s practice,” he said lamely, anxious to smooth over the obvious lack of rapport between them.

      “Yes, your uncle was an excellent physician.”

      Was that skepticism he heard in her voice over his ability to step into his uncle’s shoes? “Yeah, and now he and Aunt Mildred are enjoying retirement in Sarasota.”

      Sherri made no response as they moved down the corridor. Patients were waiting in each of the exam rooms. Sherri called out to several as they passed, and the warmth and compassion with which she treated each of them didn’t surprise Neill. She had a gift for making people feel appreciated.

      Especially the skinny kid with the doting parents whose only ambition had been to go to med school. During the months they’d dated in high school, he’d loved her most for the way she’d made him feel valued. Appreciated.

      He smiled to himself as he watched her. This was her life now, and her devotion to her job was evident.

      Still, being near her again reminded him of how close they’d been during their last year of school. He’d gone off to university homesick for her and the idyllic world they’d shared.

      He hadn’t heard from her after the short, really awkward phone call about two months after he’d moved to Boston. She’d told him she was expecting his baby, and he’d behaved so stupidly and so hurtfully, he’d been ashamed. But when he had called back to talk to her, she hadn’t answered the phone. And every time he’d tried after that day, she’d refused to speak to him. She was in her first year of the nursing program in Bangor, part of the dream they’d shared, a dream about working together as doctor and nurse. When he’d left for Boston, he’d wanted her to go with him, but she hadn’t made it into the nursing program she’d applied to in Boston.

      After her brief call about the baby, he hadn’t heard from her again, although he kept trying. Then one day when he’d called, her roommate had answered and told him Sherri had quit nursing, that she had left no forwarding phone number. He’d called her parents’ house to be told she’d married Sam Crawford, a man two years ahead of them in high school and a guy Sherri had dated in tenth grade.

      Wanting to congratulate her on her marriage, he’d gotten her number from her mother. When the message he’d left wasn’t returned, he didn’t try again. Was his pride hurt? Probably. And he’d let his busy life take over, a life he was so sure he wanted back then.

      His mother had told him about the death of their baby, and then about Sam’s death in a boating accident. He’d tried to phone Sherri when he heard about the baby, but she wouldn’t take his call. When her husband had died, he’d tried again with no response from her. He’d tried to write her a letter, but his words about being taken by surprise, needing time to absorb what she was telling him, seemed so immature and selfish he’d torn it up. Walking beside her now, remembering the past, his neck glowed hot with embarrassment.

      Back then he’d told himself he’d done everything he could to reach out to her, but he recognized what a total lie that was. He could have done so much more. Having Morgan in his life, he knew a joy he’d never known before. Yet he’d denied the same joy to Sherri by not supporting her during the pregnancy.

      Being back in familiar surroundings made him remember what they’d once had between them, how he’d missed her during those early years. And now those old feelings were back. “Sherri, can we talk?”

      “About what?” she asked. Her hazel eyes flared green.

      He motioned toward the medical dictation room.

      Once inside, he stood next to the counter. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, and I’ll probably get it wrong.” His smile, meant to be encouraging, faltered against the stiff set of her lips. “We meant so much to each other, yet everything’s changed between us... I want you to know how sorry I am.”

      “About what?”

      He could only imagine her devastation at the loss of their child. “The...baby.”

      “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Her tone was hard, uncompromising.

      “Yes, it probably is,” he replied, aware of the emotional distance between them. “And Sam. I’m sorry. I liked him. He... His father gave me my first job in his hardware store,” he said, fumbling his words.

      “Sam was a good person, a good husband.”

      “You didn’t take his name?”

      Her sadness evident, she murmured, “No. He wanted me to. I should have. His parents weren’t comfortable with my decision, but they didn’t say anything.”

      A mix of emotions, some he couldn’t identify, cascaded through him. The sudden urge to touch her nearly overwhelmed him. “Look, this isn’t easy for either of us, but we’ll be working together,” he continued, determined to say what needed to be said.

      “You mean you don’t want anything to interfere with our professional relationship.” She stood just inside the door of the tiny room, her arms crossed. “I agree completely.”

      Her words sounded so cold, so impersonal, making him suddenly aware that he hadn’t said what he’d meant at all. “That’s part of it.” He sought her eyes, needing her encouragement to continue. “I want us to meet somewhere, not here, but somewhere we can catch up, reestablish contact.”

      “Why?” she demanded, her eyes harboring suspicion. “What would you and I have to discuss at this point in our lives?”

      “I...I didn’t recognize you yesterday. I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t remember you. I do.” Feeling suddenly very awkward, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “You surprised me,” he blurted out.

      “How?”

      “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

      “You thought I’d never come back here because of what happened,” she said, her gaze aimed directly at him.

      “Maybe...” Why did he feel so tongue-tied around her? He never used to be.

      “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” she asked, her voice clear and untroubled.

      “That’s my point. I want us to—”

      “Neill, please don’t say any more. You and I have a clinic to do. Let’s leave it at that.”

      Her voice conveyed strength, but her eyes swam with emotion. Seeing her anguish, he leaned toward her. With their bodies nearly touching in the narrow room, their heat mingling, need flared in him. He wanted to take her in his arms, awaken those old feelings. “Do you remember