Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella. Lynne Marshall
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up about the EMS guys sitting for half a minute, waiting for the next call. On the other hand, he’d insisted to his guys that if a nurse said she needed more muscle, and they weren’t doing anything at the time, they should jump to it and help out with lifts and transfers. Keeping RNs happy was always a good idea. He’d also taken to suggesting the guys hang out in their truck on downtime rather than at the tiny desk with two computers designated as their work station, so as not to complicate things in the ER.
Not taking his own advice, he took a seat and brought up the evening’s schedule, and in the process sat in the vicinity of James, who was conferring on the phone about a patient he’d just admitted to Carey’s floor with liver issues. James nodded and smiled at Joe, and Joe returned the courtesy.
Soon James hung up. “How’s that scar doing? Any more tearing with your workouts, you beast?”
Joe laughed. “I’m all healed. Thanks.” Joe saw James’s sister, Freya, appear across the ER, obviously looking for someone.
“There you are,” she said over the other heads, immediately making her way toward James.
James ducked down in an obvious fashion. “Oh, boy. Here we go,” he said jokingly in an aside to Joe. “What does she want this time?” He raised his voice to tease his younger sister.
Knowing from their rocky history that the brother and sister’s relationship had never been better since Freya had come to The Hollywood Hills Clinic as a sought-after public relations guru, Joe chuckled at James’s wisecrack.
“There you are,” Freya said, her dark blue eyes sparkling under the fluorescent ER lights. “I know you’ve been avoiding me, but I need a firm date for when you’ll visit the Bright Hope Clinic. Here’s my calendar, I’ve highlighted the best days and times for me and them. What works for you?” She shoved her small internet tablet calendar in front of James, making it impossible for him not to pick a day and time.
Her long brown hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail that waved down her back, nearly to her waist, yet she still looked like she could be royalty. Hollywood royalty, that was. Joe had heard rumors about her once having had to go to rehab for anorexia, but from the healthy, happy-looking pregnant woman standing before him he’d have never guessed.
James took a deep inhale and scrolled through his smartphone calendar, matching day for day, saying, “No. Nope. Not that one either. Hmm, maybe this one? September the first or the second?”
“Let’s take the first.” Freya quickly highlighted that day. “It is now written in stone. Do you hear me? There’s no getting out of it. You’ll show up and do those publicity photos in the clinic in South Central and smile like you mean it.”
“Of course I’ll mean it. I’m going for the children.”
“I know, but you know.” They passed a secret brother-sister glance, telling an entirely different story than the simple making of plans for publicity shots. Joe deduced that since Dr. Mila Brightman ran Bright Hope, she was the issue. She happened to be Freya’s best friend, and also the woman James had stood up on their wedding day. Or, at least, that was the scuttlebutt Stephanie the receptionist had told Joe one day on a break over coffee in the cafeteria. It had happened before Joe had started working there, she’d said, so all he could do was take Stephanie’s word for it. The woman really was a gossip. But, damn, if that was the case, no wonder James hesitated about going. How could he face her after dumping her on the day of her dream wedding?
Having achieved her purpose, Freya rushed off, no doubt wanting to end her day and get home to her husband Zack.
“The last thing I want to do is upset a pregnant lady,” James said to Joe in passing, “but, hey, you know all about that, right?”
The casual comment took Joe by surprise. At first he thought James was referring to his ex, Angela, but then realized he must have been referring to Jane Doe, aka Carey, who lived with him and happened to be just shy of four months pregnant.
“Tell me about it,” Joe said, hoping he’d recovered quickly enough not to seem like a bonehead, and pretending that pregnant ladies were indeed unpredictable and demanding, while knowing for a fact Carey was anything but.
* * *
On Friday night, at the end of the first week on the job for Carey, Joe insisted they stop for a fast-food burger on the way home. How could she have been in California for three weeks and not tried one? They didn’t even bother to wait to get home but devoured them immediately on the drive. Even though it definitely wasn’t on her second-trimester diet list, she’d never tasted a better cheeseburger in her life.
“My parents are having a barbecue on the Fourth of July,” Joe said, his mouth half-full, one hand on the steering wheel, the other clutching a double cheeseburger.
A national holiday had been the last thing on her mind lately. Plans seemed incomprehensible. She thought of that dreary apartment she’d almost taken and shivered at the thought of being on her own there, especially on the Fourth of July, grateful to have Joe’s sweet house and lovely garden in the back to look at. She’d be just fine.
“Do you want to come? They’d love to have you.”
What? He was inviting her to his parents’ home? Why? Out of his usual sense of obligation? “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I want to, and my whole family’s going to be there so you can meet my sisters and brothers, too.”
“Do they know about me?” Why was he pushing to take her?
“I have a prying mother and a loose-lipped sister. Mom’s got this sixth sense about changes in my life, no doubt recently fueled by Lori loaning out some clothes.”
“The whole story?” She really didn’t want her personal failures shared, especially with Joe’s family.
He shook his head and took another bite of his burger. “I wouldn’t do that. You know better. But you said you wanted to be friends, and I take my friends to family barbecues.”
She’d put her foot down when she’d decided to stay with him. He’d agreed to consider her a friend. If this was his way of proving it, as confusing as it would be for her, not to mention nerve-racking, she really shouldn’t refuse to meet his family. It might set things back if she didn’t.
“Then I guess I’ll have to go.” She played coy, but cautious contentment she hadn’t felt in ages settled in a warm place behind her breastbone. This was more proof that Joe was nothing like Ross. He pushed her to get out and do things, got her a job, and now he wanted her to meet his family on Independence Day no less. Wow, what did it all mean?
Joe finished his hamburger as they neared his house. It’d tasted great, as always, but now his stomach felt a little unsettled. He’d tried not to think about the ramifications of what he’d just done, but couldn’t avoid it. Trust, or lack thereof, in women in general and Carey, by reason of her gender, made him have second thoughts about the invitation. The gift of Angela’s infidelity just kept on giving.
Maybe he’d jumped the gun in asking her to his parents’ Fourth of July party. It was too soon. She might get the wrong impression and he wasn’t anywhere ready to get close to her. He pulled into the driveway and rather than pull into the garage he parked under the small carport instead. It wasn’t like he could change the date of Independence Day, and for the record he wondered if he’d ever be in a place to trust a woman again, whether next week or two years from now.
But the damage had been done. He’d asked Carey to go along, and he couldn’t very well take the invitation back. He’d just have to live with it.
Once home, Carey went directly to her room to change her clothes, planning to watch a little TV to unwind after another busy evening shift at the end of her first week. But not without noticing a shift in his mood since he’d issued, and she’d accepted, the invitation to his parents’ Fourth of July barbecue. When she came back, Joe was already working out on the patio, hitting his punching bag like it was a