The Doctor Who Made Her Love Again

“What do I need to know or buy?”

“It’s no big deal. All you need is a board. You can get those anywhere around here.”

“Do I need a special size?”

Was he really going to try skimboarding? That was for kids.

With a grin the boy said, “As far as I know, they only come in one size.”

“Any certain weight I need to get?”

The boy gave him a perplexed look. “Not that I know of.”

Dr. Jenkins tied off the last of the nine neat stitches he had placed in the boy’s leg.

China had to give him kudos for a quick, perfect suturing job and keeping the patient calm. He had a wonderful way with the boy. She’d seen none do better. Actually, he was the best she’d seen.

Dr. Jenkins pushed the stool back and stood. “Would you teach me?”

He sounded serious.

“Sure, why not?”

“Great. I’m going to let Nurse China bandage you up. I want you to come in one week from now to have the stitches out. Then we’ll make a date for you to show me how to skimboard.”

“Okay,” the boy said, with a huge grin.

He spoke to the mom. “Just see that it remains dry and clean. No swimming or skimboarding until the stitches are removed.”

China began opening the sterile bandage package.

From behind her Dr. Jenkins said, “Let’s not use that one. It needs a four-by-four.”

That tightness in her chest was back. Was this doctor going to be hard to please? “I’ll get one right away.” She left and returned with the required gauze.

Dr. Jenkins stuck out his hand. The boy hesitated a moment and then took it. The doctor smiled. “See you next week. I’m going to hunt for a board today. I’m already looking forward to the lesson.”

Who was this guy? He sounded like he’d moved here for the recreation instead of a job. He had an excellent bedside manner but would she be able to work with him?

Leaving the clinic for the day, China still had grocery shopping to contend with before she could go home. She hated it, hated it. The word wasn’t too strong. She made a point to be in and out as quick as possible. Some people didn’t like to clean bathrooms but shopping for food was her issue.

She maneuvered the buggy with the knocking wheels at a brisk pace through the aisles, snatching what she needed from the shelves. She tended to buy the same things so she didn’t worry about studying the prices or nutritional value. It had been a long day, starting with the trip to the donut shop, and she just wanted to go home, maybe do some gardening.

With everything on her list except the trail mix she favored, she pushed the buggy through the produce department. She reached out to pick up the plastic bag of nuts, chocolate candy and oats.

“So, not after donuts this time, I see.”

She looked up to find Dr. Jenkins grinning at her. She wanted to groan. Was he going to be around every corner she turned?

He moved his nearly full cart along beside hers. “I guess food is our common denominator.”

“I don’t think it’s so surprising that we meet here since we’ve only shopped at the two busiest places in town.”

“Still testy over this morning? Are you prickly to everyone when shopping for food or is it just me?”

His grin fed her annoyance. “Hey, I’m not prickly.” She pushed her cart forward. He followed. “I just don’t enjoy grocery shopping.”

“You know, if I was a psychiatrist I might find some hidden meaning in that statement.”

She was afraid he just might. The job of shopping and cooking had fallen on her at far too young an age. She hadn’t complained. If she’d wanted to eat then she’d needed to fix it. Now every time she entered the grocery store it brought back unhappy memories. That’s why she made a point to do most of her buying once a month. She picked up the small items she might need at a convenience store at other times.

China winced when he peered over into her basket, “Not much of a cook, are you?”

She glanced at all the prepared food piled there. “No. In fact, I hate it.”

“I love to cook. Our cook, Ruth, taught me all I know. At least now that I’ve moved here I’ll have time to enjoy cooking a meal.”

Our cook. They’d certainly come from two different worlds. She’d been the family cook. If you could call theirs a family.

More from intimidation than need, China picked up a few apples and put them in a small clear bag. She tied it off and placed them in her buggy. Payton had managed to make her feel at fault twice in the same day. Once over calling him an idiot and now over her eating habits.

“At least they look like a healthy choice.” He nodded toward the fruit in her buggy.

Obviously she didn’t meet the grade with his man. “So do your doctoring skills extend to reviewing everyone’s grocery cart?” she asked flippantly.

He chuckled. “No, but I do believe in eating right and encouraging others to do so also.”

“Well, it must be working. You are so slim and trim.”

He blanched then said, “I’ll let you finish your shopping. See you tomorrow.”

China watched him walked away. They hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts. Maybe she wasn’t giving him the chance he deserved. She looked down at the items in her cart. He hadn’t been wrong about her meal choices at all.

Payton opened the door to his house, which was built in the old Florida architectural style with wide verandas and seemingly never-ending white stairs up to the front door and another along the side to the kitchen. The property was located along West Beach Road well outside of town. He’d specifically asked the realtor for something private, well away from the summer crowds, with large windows. The woman had done her job well.

The master bedroom faced east, giving him a bright morning wake-up call. The house was well worth the amount of money he’d invested in it. Payton had hired a decorator long distance to furnish it. He’d wanted it livable when he arrived but it still lacked the personal touch.

He sighed. His parents didn’t understand his need to leave Chicago. In fact, his father was so disappointed that he could hardly speak to him. He no longer met his parents’ expectations. Having lymphoma had made him reexamine his life. His new goal was to find out what he wanted. His parents still held out hope he would change his mind and come home. He was just sorry that his actions had put a wedge between them. He’d changed, and they couldn’t deal with it.

The house was huge and Payton had no one to share it with, but that suited him fine. Janice wouldn’t have enjoyed it here anyway. Too hot, too many bugs and too far from social engagements. She’d complained he wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. Did she think people who feared they might die didn’t change? The second she’d found an opening she’d been gone.

Pushing the side door open, he placed the first load of bags on the counter then he headed out for more. Ten minutes later and proud he was no longer puffing after walking up stairs like he once had, Payton had all the food in the kitchen. He hadn’t totally regained his strength but it was quickly returning. China had reminded him that he hadn’t completely found the robust man he’d once been yet. Some swimming and sailing would solve that issue.

Today had been the first time he’d worked a full eight hours in months. He’d been the one in med school who everyone had envied for his ability to work on little sleep. Not anymore, though, and especially not tonight. Good dinner, short swim then off to bed was his plan.

After putting the groceries away, Payton pulled out a skillet. He’d prepared a simple stir-fry, planning to eat outside to enjoy the weather. Unlocking the door to one of the many porches, he picked up his plate and drink then stepped out. He sank into a wicker chair with a comfortable-looking pillow. With a sigh, he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, which matched the chair.

The cell phone resting against his thigh in his hip pocket vibrated. It would be his mom. She’d already called a number of times during the day and he’d been too busy to answer. Because she was a mom she worried. The old saying that you were always your mom’s baby, no matter how old you got, was no truer than when you were sick. His mom had more than jumped into caretaker mode when he’d required help. Now he needed her to let go, for his sake as well as hers. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to back off. That was one of a number of reasons he’d wanted to leave Chicago.