Found: A Mother for His Son. Dianne Drake
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wasn’t always what he got.
Fort Dyott was larger than Jenna had expected. For some reason, she’d pictured a wide spot in the road, but there were several roads, actually. More than she could see in any direction. And there were shops, houses, churches, a movie theater—pretty much all the same things she was used to in Calgary, but on a smaller scale. By the time she’d reached Dermott’s building, she’d decided she liked the looks of Fort Dyott. The people strolling up and down the streets appeared friendly. The streets were, indeed, tree-lined, and so far she’d come across two parks.
In fact, if she’d had a family to raise, this would have been an ideal place in which to do it. High praise, from a thirty-yearold who’d never imagined herself raising a family. Family implied direction and permanence and so far she’d successfully avoided that. Yet, if having a husband and children had been something she’d wanted to do, this would have been the right place in which to do it.
Fort Dyott seemed a nice little town with all the amenities, like where she’d been raised along the southern Alberta border. It was perfect here. Or would be perfect for a little while, until she got herself too involved and had to leave.
So maybe her brash, rash and otherwise impulsive decision to come here on Dermott’s lukewarm invitation would turn out to be a good move after all. “No expectations,” Jenna whispered, as she climbed out of her car and stared up at the old building. “Don’t have expectations about this, and nothing will hurt you.” That was a lesson she’d tried so hard to take to heart in the past, and always seemed to fail. No matter how hard she fought against them, expectations always found their way in, then ended up disappointing her.
Well, not this time! She knew what she was getting with Dermott. Or most of what she was getting. And hormones aside, she didn’t need any more problems than she already had. Not even Dermott’s problems, which did worry her. But she wasn’t getting involved. Wasn’t asking. Wasn’t listening. Wasn’t lending a shoulder or any other part of her body for anything. No causes, no crusades. No nothing, except work.
“So, just do it. Go up the steps and start over, Jenna.” Easier said than done as those eight steps up to the front door were some of the longest, slowest steps she’d taken in a while. Of the three phone calls she’d had with Dermott since she’d chased him down the street and accepted his offer, only one had been even marginally friendly. And she wasn’t sure that it was friendly so much as Dermott being relieved that she wasn’t calling to change her mind about the job. Whatever had happened to him these past years wasn’t good, and maybe that’s what she dreaded the most—coming face to face with the thing that had sucked the spirit right out of one of the brightest, most lively people she’d ever met.
“But he’s not the reason you’re here,” she lied to herself, as she laid her hand on the old glass doorknob, bit down hard on her bottom lip, and turned the handle. “It’s about the job. That’s all. Just the job.” Easy to say, but not easy to believe, and that’s what frightened her. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the lie wouldn’t even hold up to a gentle breeze. Who was she kidding? All the firmest resolutions aside, she was here for Dermott. But as a friend? Or more?
Right now, she would fight, tooth and nail, to tell herself she was here just as a friend, and hope the other possibility didn’t seep in. Although, even admitting there was another possibility gave her a deep-down queasy feeling right in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t want that, don’t want that…” she said, gritting her teeth. “Do not want that.”
That was good. Now all she had to do was tell herself she was here for…For what? Peace of mind? Change of career direction? Simpler lifestyle? All good reasons, she decided. Good, and interchangeable. If she embraced her reasons hard enough, she’d believe them. Wouldn’t she?
He’s the reason you’re here.
Damn it! Why couldn’t she fool herself even for a moment?
Simple answer. She was here for Dermott, which scared her to death. So, she had two choices. Admit it, deal with it and, of course, not act on it. Or go and find another job somewhere else.
“You should have thought it over better,” she admonished herself as she stood there, staring up at the building, wondering what would greet her on the other side of the door. Stupid thoughts! On the other side of that door were people who needed her. And a doctor who needed a nurse. If she could keep that in mind, she’d be good. “One step at a time, Jenna,” she whispered, finally pushing open the door.
Jenna took her first step inside, plastering a perky smile to her face, ready to greet the patients as she walked through the waiting room for her first time, but after that one step her smile disappeared. The place was totally empty, the doorbell was jingling its merry tune to a completely hollow room. There wasn’t even a waiting-room television tuned to an annoying cartoon channel blaring away. It didn’t seem right, didn’t seem normal, especially when Dermott was the only doctor in town.
“Hello,” she called out tentatively, wondering if she should head down the hall to the exam rooms, or go back to her car, leave town and see if that clinic she’d passed in Muledeer a couple of hours ago needed a nurse. “Anybody here?”
There were noises above her, voices she thought, but she couldn’t make them out. “Hello,” she called, a little louder this time.
Again, no response.
“Dermott?” she called. “Dr. Callahan, are you here?” Her voice practically echoed, the place was so empty. “It’s Jenna. I’m here.”
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the stairs behind her, and before she could turn around to see who it was, a little boy practically threw himself at her feet.
“You must be the lady,” he said, assuming a tough-guy posture—arms folded across his chest, face in a deadly serious, deadly cute scowl.
“And you must be Dr. Dermott Callahan,” Jenna replied, fighting back a smile.
“Am not,” he insisted.
“But that’s the name on the door.” To prove her point, she returned to the door, and showed the backwards outline of Dermott’s name there. “See? It says ‘Dr. Dermott Callahan, Family Practitioner’. So that means you must be Dr. Callahan.” Pretty little boy, if boys could be called pretty. Lots of curly blond hair. Blue eyes. Beautiful eyes exactly like…Dermott’s.
Dermott had a son? Why hadn’t he mentioned it? “So, you are the doctor, aren’t you?” she continued.
The little boy shook his head. “That’s the big guy, he’s the doctor. I just help out here when he needs me ’cos I’m too little to be a real doctor.”
The child was just making her feel all warm and comfy inside, he was so adorable. “The big guy? Who’s that?”
“He’s my…” He scrunched his face a moment, thinking. “He’s my big guy, and he’s upstairs, getting the apartment ready for you. It has spiders, and I’ll bet you hate spiders.”
So Dermott was getting ready to stash her in a room with spiders. No romantic intentions there, which was a good thing. “So tell me, Dr. Dermott’s son, what’s your real name?”
“Dermott Maxwell Callahan.” He nodded affirmatively, then added, “Junior.”
“But you’re not a doctor, Dermott Maxwell Callahan, Junior?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Call me Max. I’m going to be like Grandpa Frank when I grow up, and live on a ranch.”
It was sounding like Dermott was part of a whole family system here. Ex-wife somewhere, child very much present, and parents or in-laws on a ranch. Tidy arrangement. One she almost envied. “I lived on a ranch for a little while when I was a girl. My grandfather’s still there. He raises horses.” They’d bred show horses, and a few that made it to the races. Riding those horses, and helping her grandfather…that’s where she’d learned that life could be good. That’s where she’d