The Single Dad Finds a Wife. Felicia Mason

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The Single Dad Finds a Wife - Felicia Mason


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one of the best in the region, and Jeremy’s a trouper.”

      She watched as he looked about the room at the empty tables. Across the cafeteria, a maintenance worker had parts of an ice machine’s compressor on the floor and a couple of nurses were chatting as they sipped from tall tumblers.

      “I guess I’ve been rather preoccupied lately.” He stirred his coffee although he’d added neither cream nor sugar to it.

      Spring wanted to, but she didn’t ask the obvious question: preoccupied doing what? Whatever he wanted to tell her would come out in his own way.

      “Jeremy has rarely been sick,” he said. “He had a bit of colic when he was much younger, and he’s had a couple of colds, but never anything that required being in the hospital, let alone an operation of any kind. I’ve been blessed that he’s had good health.”

      When his gaze again connected with hers, Spring saw the beginning of panic in his eyes.

      She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm in a gesture of comfort.

      “I’m a grown man,” he said, “and I’ve never had an operation. Not even my tonsils out. He has to be terrified. I should be—”

      “You can’t be in the operating room,” she reminded him. “The procedure will take about an hour and a half. Dr. Emmanuel has barely gotten started. We’ll be there in recovery when Jeremy wakes up. He needs you to be strong and focused. He’s going to be sore for a while afterward.”

      David nodded. Then he wrapped his hands around the mug and contemplated the brown liquid in it. “I know.” He exhaled as if releasing all the tension that had built up inside him. “I know,” he said again.

      Spring sipped at her coffee, letting the silence act as a balm to his tattered emotions.

      “There’s something you need to know,” he said. “About me. Us, I mean. I’m not homeless. We’re not homeless,” he clarified.

      “You don’t have to—”

      “Yes,” he interrupted. “I do. I know you heard what happened at the clinic—about my insurance card. But I really did leave my wallet in the hotel room. I’m here in Cedar Springs for...for some business meetings. My sitter, who is my mother, is out of town. She had the dates of this trip mixed up. That’s why Jeremy is with me. I don’t normally have a four-year-old when I go on business trips.”

      “What type of business are you in?”

      A buzzing sounded before he could answer her.

      “Excuse me,” Spring said, lifting a phone from her pocket. “I need to take this.”

      He nodded, and she answered. “This is Dr. Darling.”

      She listened for a moment, her eyes going wide. “Oh my. Okay, I’ll be right up.”

      “What is it?” David asked. “Is Jeremy all right?”

      She nodded to David and motioned for him to get up.

      “Excellent,” she told her caller. “I’ll be there shortly.”

      “I’m sorry,” she told him. “There’s been an accident and they need another set of hands in the ER. I can show you the waiting room. It’s quite comfortable.”

      * * *

      While Jeremy was in surgery and Dr. Darling doctored or did whatever she did, David had plenty of time to pace and pray, stress and worry. The time seemed to pass with the pace of a glacier. Every time he glanced at his watch or the clock on the wall, barely five minutes had ticked by. He eventually sat down and closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he contemplated first the ceiling and then the wall.

      “David, I am so sorry!”

      His eyes popped open, and he blinked, not at all sure he was seeing her.

      Charlotte Camden rushed into the waiting room in a flurry of silk and chiffon, her signature scarves trailing behind her in a flutter of femininity.

      He rose as she approached. And a moment later, David found himself enveloped in the scent of Shalimar, the perfume she’d worn with a light touch his entire life. As a young child, he’d known that scent meant comfort and love. It was forever connected with his senses as maternal love, the way a mother should smell.

      For just a moment, David was transported to the time when he was nine and his cocker spaniel, Chuckle Boy, had been hit by a car. He’d been inconsolable. The dog had been his best friend since Chuckle Boy was a puppy. His mother wrapped her arms around him, murmuring words of comfort, words meant to make him feel better. But there was nothing that could console him, not when he had to say goodbye to the dog that had meant the world to him.

      Now he wondered if his son had any similar sensory triggers. Would Jeremy grow up never knowing a mother’s embrace? Would he end up dreading the scent of a hospital?

      He’d just met her this evening, but David knew he was quickly coming to crave the scent of Spring Darling. It wasn’t so much a perfume, more her essence.

      David held on to his mother, drawing from her what strength he could. But he was no longer a little boy. His mother couldn’t kiss the boo-boos and make them better. He was a grown man with a little boy of his own. And even though his gut was tied in knots worrying about Jeremy, David knew everything possible was being done to get his son well and whole again.

      Drawing his mother’s hand into his, he led her to one of the sofas.

      “It’s okay, Mom.”

      “It’s not okay,” Charlotte moaned. “I’m mortified. I left Becky’s right after we got off the phone and drove straight to the hotel. The front desk clerk told me you’d rushed Jeremy to the hospital. I was frantic with worry. I can’t believe I let you down like this. And my baby! How is my baby?” Her voice rose along with her panic.

      He knew how she must be feeling. If it was anything at all like the way he was feeling at the moment, it was borderline hysteria coupled with a megadose of surrealism. He’d been lucky. Jeremy, unlike other kids, had not suffered the early childhood ailments like ear infections or croup or whopping cough.

      “The doctors say it’s his appendix.”

      “But he’s only four,” Charlotte protested. “He’s just a baby.”

      “I know,” David said. “I thought the same thing. But the doctor said it’s not uncommon.”

      Just then Spring entered the waiting room. Although three other people were there now, waiting for word on their own loved ones, her gaze found his almost immediately.

      David met her halfway. “Is there any news?”

      “He’s heading up to recovery,” she said. “He’ll be out of it, groggy from the anesthesia, but he’s going to be fine, David. He’s going to be just fine.”

      David swooped her up into his arms and twirled her around. He planted a kiss on her mouth. “Thank you. Thank you.”

      Spring’s joy mirrored his own, and even as he set her on her feet, he led her toward Charlotte.

      “Mom, this is one of Jeremy’s doctors. Dr. Spring Darling is the pediatrician I took him to.”

      “Well,” Charlotte said with an assessing glance at Spring, “I can’t say I ever greeted your pediatrician like that.”

      David gave her a blank look and then whipped his head around to Spring, his eyes widening as the realization of what he’d done sank in.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her hand as if it were suddenly molten lava. “I got caught up in the moment.”

      Spring sent a professional smile his way, as if all the parents of her patients kissed her like that. “No problem,” she said. She extended her hand to the older woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.—”


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