Emily's Daughter

Emily caught her breath and waited, but before the little girl could make the complete turn, Emily woke up. She was bathed in sweat and breathing heavily.

“No, no, no,” she cried. “Not again.” Why couldn’t she see her face? Just once…that was all she wanted.

The darkness didn’t have an answer, and she slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She switched on the light, then filled a glass with water. Taking a couple of gulps, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her dark brown hair hung in disarray around her shoulders and her eyes were groggy.

“You’ll never see her face,” she told the woman in the mirror. “You don’t deserve to. You gave her away the day she was born.”

She took another drink of water and went back to bed. Curling into a fetal position, she cried herself to sleep. Something she hadn’t done in a very long time.

THE NEXT MORNING Emily drove into the doctors’ parking area and glanced at her watch. Ten past nine. Damn. Her first appointment was at nine, which meant she was already late. As a geriatrics specialist, she was very conscious of her patients needs. Some of them were in a fragile mental state and could tolerate no disruption in routine, no unexpected upset.

She grabbed her purse and reading material and got out, slamming the door of her Lexus. She hurried into the building and toward the elevators. She’d worked with a group of doctors at this busy medical center in Houston for the past four years, and she prided herself on her punctuality—not only for herself, but for her patients. Now she’d have to do some juggling and explaining.

She’d overslept because she’d had a restless night. Why did she have the dream? She hadn’t had it in so long. Why now? she wondered again. There was nothing different in her life—hospital rounds, seeing patients, consultations with other doctors. And of course her personal life was nonexistent since she’d broken up with Glen. Was that it? she asked herself as she stepped onto the elevator. Was she subconsciously mourning the fact that she’d never have another child? At thirty-five her conscience should have gotten use to that.

Glen was also a doctor and they’d dated for more than a year. Everything was fine until he started pressuring her to get married. The more he pressured, the more she resisted. Glen was divorced and had two children. At first, she told herself that was the reason—she wasn’t prepared for a ready-made family. But she’d finally had to admit that she didn’t love Glen. If she did, she would have told him her secret, but she’d never even come close to sharing that with him.

She enjoyed being with Glen, but she didn’t have those blinding, passionate feelings she’d had for— No. She refused to think about him. Not today…not ever.

Before she could make it to her office, Harold, the office manager, stopped her. “Dr. Cooper, do you have a minute?”

Emily took a quick breath and turned to face him. She shifted the folders she’d taken home to her other arm. “I really don’t. I’m running late,” she told him.

Harold checked at his watch. “By God, you are late,” his said, his blue eyes enormous behind his thick glasses. “You’re never late. Is something wrong?”

“No.” She looked down at the bundle of case files she held. “Just too much reading and not enough sleep.”

And too many painful memories.

Harold shook his head. “You’re the most dedicated doctor I’ve ever met. Your patients are lucky to have you. Your forgotten ones—that’s what you call them.”

Yes, she did. Children, no matter what age, had a hard time dealing with their parents when illness struck. They had lives and usually the old people were relegated to a nursing home where they were completely forgotten. It was a sad reality, but one she saw all the time.

“When I get old, you’re going to be my doctor,” Harold smiled.

Harold was in his mid forties and she could have told him she had patients his age with Alzheimer’s, but she didn’t want to frighten him.

“Thanks, Harold. Now I’ve got to go,” she said, and started to leave.

“Oh, Dr. Cooper,” Harold called after her. “I just wanted to remind you about the eleven o’clock meeting.”

She stopped. “Meeting?”

“Yeah, about the new computer system we’re installing. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Frowning, she said, “Maybe. I’m not sure—I’ve had so many memos this week. I’m sure Jean or Sharon will take care of whatever needs taking care of.”

“No, no” was Harold’s quick answer. “The staff and nurses have already had their instructions. This is for the doctors. The head of the computer company is flying in as a favor to Dr. Benson. He’s speaking with the doctors personally. It’s an amazing system and it’ll make life so much easier.”

“My schedule’s already backed up and—”

“You have to be there,” he interrupted. “Dr. Benson expects everyone to be there. Half an hour or so—that’s all it’ll take.”

Dr. Benson was head of the group and he’d been talking for a while about a new system. She didn’t have time, but she should probably learn something about it. She hated the business part of her job. She only wanted to treat patients, but she had to admit that improved computer skills would benefit her and them.

“Okay, Harold,” she said in a resigned voice. “I’ll be there.”

She went in through her private entrance and laid her papers on her desk, then shrugged on her white coat and walked into her bathroom to check her appearance. She hadn’t had time to do anything about her hair so she’d pulled it back and clipped it behind her head. It made her look older, more mature, and that was fine. Her face was blotchy, though, from lack of sleep and too many tears. Her patients wouldn’t notice, she was sure.

“Dr. Cooper?” her nurse called from the doorway.

“Yes, Jean,” Emily answered, coming out of the bathroom.

“Thank God.” Jean let out a sigh of relief. “I was getting worried.”

“I’m here now, so let’s get started,” Emily said. “I suppose we have a full morning.”

“Sure do. All the exam rooms are occupied.” She smiled brightly. Jean was a lovely young woman in her late twenties with a calm, sunny disposition that was invaluable to Emily’s patients.

Emily took the folder Jean was handing her. “Do you know anything about this new computer system?”

“Yes, we’ve had classes for two days now.” At Emily’s puzzled expression, she asked, “You didn’t read your memo, did you?”

“No.” Emily glanced at her desk. “I remember Sharon giving it to me, but I must have put it somewhere.”

Jean raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re hopeless when it comes to interoffice communication. The memo was all about the system, the computer company—all sorts of information.”

“Well, I’ll learn about it later. Right now I have patients to see.” She walked to the first exam room. “Remind me that I have a meeting at eleven.”

Emily was busy for the rest of the morning, and even though she tried to make up time, it was a lost cause. Her patients didn’t like to be rushed and they liked lots of attention. When she finished with her last appointment for the morning, she realized that it was almost noon. Oh, no!

“Jean, you were supposed to remind me about the meeting,” she said, hurrying into the corridor. She might be able to catch the end, the question-and-answer part.

“I’m sorry.” Jean’s apologetic voice followed her.

She quickly made her way to the conference room. Opening the door, she stepped inside, but it was too late. The meeting was over. Doctors were standing around talking.

Harold immediately approached her, and he didn’t hide his grin. “Forgot, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Harold, the morning got away from me.”

“Well, at least you can still meet the head of the company. He can answer any questions you might have.”

Questions? How could she have questions about something she’d never even seen?

He took her arm and led her to a group of men. “Mr. Talbert, I’d like you to meet our geriatrics specialist, Dr. Emily Cooper.”

A tall man in a dark business suit turned around—and Emily’s world came to a complete stop. Jackson Scott Talbert. She’d know him anywhere. He hadn’t changed all that much from…God, how long had it been? Eighteen years and five months. Funny how she remembered that exactly. And he looked the same, just older. Same lean build and honed masculine features. Same dark blond hair that curled slightly, although now there were streaks of gray. Same deep green eyes that haunted her dreams. All these things registered as Emily shook his hand.