Surgeon Boss, Surprise Dad

Her friend Kelly hovered close, keeping a watchful eye and offering her support repeatedly. A girl couldn’t ask for a better friend, but at the moment Liz just wanted to curl into a lonely ball and cry at the loss of her grandfather.

By the time Adam assisted her into his luxurious two-seater, she practically dropped onto the plush seat. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so drained mentally, emotionally, or physically, not even after pulling a double shift.

Now she’d go home to a house filled with reminders of Gramps, filled with a hospital bed in her living room because there hadn’t been room for his bed and equipment in either of the two tiny bedrooms. Plus, she’d liked him being able to look out the windows at the small flower garden she kept well tended even if it meant getting up at the crack of dawn to do so.

Gramps had loved roses, said they reminded him of her grandmother. Even after he’d forgotten most everything, he’d lie in his bed and stare at the blooms outside the window for hours. Liz was pretty sure better times had filled his thoughts, times when his body and mind had been strong, and he’d been happy.

“You OK?” Adam asked before sliding his key into the ignition.

She took a deep breath. Time to start letting go, to cherish her memories of her grandfather rather than aching over her loss. She could do this. “Just really tired.”

Adam paused from reversing the car out of the parking place to look at her. Tension marred the handsome lines of his face. What did those all too intense eyes of his see?

“It’s been a long couple of days,” he finally said, easing the car out of the lot. “You’ve not slept enough to count.”

True. She’d barely closed her eyes since the moment she’d tried to resuscitate Gramps and failed. Had it only been early Sunday morning?

“There’ll be plenty of time for sleep now that Gramps is gone.” She tried not to sniffle at the words. At the reality her life had become a whole lot less complicated three days ago. And very empty. Panic seized her chest, and she fought another wave of tears. “What am I going to do without him?”

“You’ll get by.” Adam shot her an empathetic look. “One day at a time. With each day that passes the pain will be a little more bearable. Life will go on, Liz. I promise.”

One day at a time. In her head, she knew he was right, but her heart didn’t want right. Her heart wanted her grandfather.

“I miss him already.”

He nodded in understanding. “The house won’t be the same without him.”

“I wish you’d met him before he got so sick,” she mused.

Adam was everything her grandfather admired in a man. Everything she admired in a man, for that matter. He’d been so good to her during Gramps’s illness.

“He was such a joy.” Her voice broke. “The best gramps who ever lived.”

“Not that you’re biased.” His gaze softened, full of compassion, before returning to the road.

“Of course not,” she agreed, smiling at him through her tears and counting her blessings that she had Adam to see her through this horrible time.

Adam hated seeing Liz so devastated, but they’d known for months this day would come. Actually, Gramps had held on much longer than he, Liz, or any of numerous doctors had ever thought possible.

Then again, Gramps had had a fabulous nurse who’d loved her grandfather very much and had refused to let him go. This last time she hadn’t been able to pull off another medical miracle.

Personally, Adam thought Gramps had longed for the release death had offered his broken body and mind. He’d occasionally caught a pleading glimmer in the old man’s eyes, a glimmer that begged Adam to convince Liz to let him go, to give her a reason to move on beyond trying to mend the unfixable.

Her red-rimmed eyes tore at his heart, making him long for the ability to ease her sorrows. As a doctor he dealt with death routinely. In many ways he’d hardened himself to bereavement, but seeing Liz so upset, so unlike her usual unflappable self, got to him. First hand, from losing his parents, he knew only time would chip away at the horrendous pain in her heart, but if possible he’d move heaven and earth to put the light back into her eyes.

Ignoring the zig-zag of pain at his right temple, he pulled onto the highway, heading toward town. The cemetery where Gramps had been buried next to Liz’s grandmother was located about twenty miles outside the city limits. He wanted to get Liz home, feed her, and put her to bed. She looked ready to drop and the pain in his head refused to ease.

“The house is going to seem so quiet,” she mused from where she sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window at cornfields filled with a bumper crop thanks to all the rain they’d had so far this Mississippi summer.

“I’ll stay with you,” he immediately offered. He’d stayed the previous two nights. The first, he’d sat with her on the tiny loveseat that served as the only sitting area in her crowded living room. He’d held her while she’d talked about Gramps, while she’d cried, while she’d napped for a few short hours just before dawn. Last night, he’d stayed on the sofa while forcing her to bed. He wasn’t sure she’d slept any more than she had the previous night, but at least she’d made it to bed. Of course, when he’d awakened early this morning, she’d been curled next to him, eyeing Gramps’s hospital bed.

She nodded. “I’d like that. I don’t want to be by myself.”

No way would he leave her to face tonight alone.

Then again, if she went back to her place, all Gramps’s things were just as she’d left them, just as they’d been on the day the old man had died. Liz wouldn’t sleep. She’d sit in the living room, staring at that empty hospital bed.

In testament to how troubled she was she didn’t notice when he drove past the turn-off leading to the small frame house her grandfather had lived in for more than fifty years. Her hands rested in her lap and she looked ghostly pale.

“I’ll stop and pick us up some take-out on the drive home. I’ve not seen you eat a bite.”

She grimaced, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can eat anything. I’m sure it’s nerves, but the thought of food makes me want to throw up.”

“You need to eat.”

“I will, but not right now. I just want to lie down and close my eyes to reality for a while.”

She’d barely nibbled at a few crackers yesterday. Less than that today. He didn’t like her lack of appetite, but perhaps she was too exhausted to eat. He’d get some of the soup his cleaning lady had left him on her last visit and convince Liz to eat at least a little.

“Where are we?” she asked, pushing a strand of her dark hair away from her face and becoming aware that they’d long passed her street.

“I’m taking you to my place. You’ll rest better.”

“But I…” She paused. “You’re right. I really don’t want to face that empty hospital bed.”

He’d known, just like he knew so much about the woman in the car with him. For the past year she’d been a constant part of his life.

That was a year longer than any other woman.

Since he’d had no intention of committing to anything beyond his career for many years to come, he hadn’t thought it fair to become involved. Sure, he’d dated, but always with a clear understanding.

Liz had been different. She hadn’t been looking for marriage and children either. She’d already been a hundred percent committed to caring for her grandfather and no relationship would change that.

She’d been safe.

Not that he’d meant to date her, to become part of a couple with her, but from the moment they’d met he and Liz had hit it off. She was funny, intelligent, and sexy as hell. Without him realizing what had been happening, she had become more and more entrenched in his life until he couldn’t imagine not having her smile brighten his day.

With Liz he’d found himself wanting marriage, children, all the things he’d once found superfluous to his medical career. Had she been free, he’d have begged her to walk down the aisle with him, to be his wife, the mother of his children.

But Liz’s priority had been to her grandfather and he’d understood that. Understood and loved her all the more for her loyalty and big heart.

All the reasons hindering their relationship from moving forward had dissipated the moment Gramps had taken his last breath.

Another sharp pain cut through Adam’s temple, momentarily blurring his vision and reminding him that perhaps not all the reasons were gone. A pain that had become more and more familiar over the past two weeks, as had the blurred vision.

So familiar that he’d seen a family physician friend of his to get a prescription for a headache medication on Friday.

Only his friend had been concerned his symptoms were more than just stress-induced. Particularly when upon being questioned Adam had admitted to feeling tired and having had muscle cramps recently. Larry had scheduled Adam for fasting bloodwork and a magnetic resonance imaging—MRI—scan of the brain on Monday. Only Adam had rescheduled the tests because of Gramps’s death.