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The Doctor's Redemption

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2018
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“There just didn’t seem a right moment.”

“So you’ve seen a lot of Mardi Gras.”

She straightened her back and looked directly at him. “I’m not that old.”

He grinned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that.”

Laura Jo had to admit he had a nice smile. She grinned. “That’s not what it sounded like to me.”

“I was just trying to make pleasant conversation and didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t.” Still, it would have been nice if he’d at least thought she looked familiar. She’d been invisible to her parents, unimportant to her husband and just this once it would have been nice to have been memorable. But, then, it had been a long time ago.

“So do you attend any of the krewe festivities?” He chewed slowly, as if waiting patiently for her answer.

“No. I don’t travel in that social circle anymore.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

“Why not? As I remember, the Herrons were a member of the same krewe as my family.”

“I’m an Akins now.”

“So Mr. Akins isn’t a member either, I gather.”

“No, and Mr. Akins, as you put it, isn’t around to be a member.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. He left years ago.”

“Oh, I thought …”

“I know. For all I know, he’s alive and well somewhere.”

Having finished his meal, Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, it has been a pleasure running into you, Ms. Atkins.”

Laura Jo stood to leave. “You, too, Dr. Clayborn. We do seem to keep running into each other.”

“Why, Ms. Akins, you don’t believe in serendipity?”

“If I ever did believe in serendipity, that would’ve been a long time ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_aef32da6-aae2-53b1-86b4-9644310ab205)

ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON Mark made his way through the side streets of Mobile, working around the parade route, which was already blocked off. It was one more week before Mardi Gras weekend and there would be a large parade that afternoon and another that night in downtown Mobile.

Throughout the week in the surrounding towns parades were planned, culminating in three or four per day until the final one on Fat Tuesday. Then Ash Wednesday would arrive and end all the revelry.

He’d been assigned to work in the med tent set up just off Government Street at a fire station. He’d wanted to say no, had even suggested that he work one or two of the parades in a nearby town, but he’d been told that he was needed there. His gut clenched each time he crossed the bay but his partners wouldn’t like him not being a team player during this time of the year. Plus, Mark had no desire to admit why going into Mobile bothered him.

All he hoped for now was a slow day, but he didn’t expect it. He wanted less drama than the last time he’d worked a med tent a few days earlier. Still, there had been some interesting points.

Dinner with Laura Jo Akins had been the highlight. He had at least found out she wasn’t married. And she seemed to be anti-krewe for some reason. He had no doubt that she’d grown up on the social club festivities of a krewe, just like him. Why would she have such a negative view now? Or was her pessimistic attitude directed toward him? Did she know about the accident? His part in it?

Laura Jo Akins also appeared to be one of those women who knew her mind and stood her ground, but it also seemed there was a venerable spot to her, too. As if she hid something from the world. What was that all about?

Mark looked over the crowd again. At least she took his thoughts off worrying that he might see Mike at a parade. He looked forward to seeing her pixie face if they ever met again. People were creatures of habit and usually showed up in the same places to watch the parades. He wasn’t sure why she interested him so, but she’d popped into his head a number of times over the past few days.

He had been at the med tent long enough to introduce himself to some of the other volunteers when he looked up to see none other than Laura Jo walking toward the tent. She caught sight of him about the same time. He didn’t miss her moment of hesitation before she continued in his direction. He smiled and nodded at her. She returned his smile.

A few minutes later he was asked to help with a woman who was having an asthma attack in the unseasonably warm weather. It was some time later before he had a chance to speak to Laura Jo.

“I believe we might be caught in some Mardi Gras mystical mojo,” he said, low enough that the others around them couldn’t hear.

“I don’t believe any sort of thing. I’m more of the dumb luck kind of person,” she responded, as she continued to sort supplies.

He chuckled. “Didn’t expect to see me again so soon, did you?”

She spun around, her hands going to her hips. “Did you plan this?”

“I did not,” he said with complete innocence. “I was told when and where to be.”

“I thought maybe with the Clayborn name …”

What did she have against the Clayborns? Did she know what he’d done? If she did, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to have anything to do with him. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Dr. Clayborn, we need you,” one of the other volunteers called.

Mark had no choice but to go to work.

Half an hour later, the sound of a jazz band rolled down the street. Because the med tent was set up at the fire station, no one could park or stand in front of it. Mark and the others had an unobstructed view of the parade. Thankfully there was no one requiring help so they all stepped out toward the street curb to watch. Laura Jo seemed to appreciate the parade. She even swayed to the music of “Let the good times roll.”

He wandered over to stand just behind her. “You enjoy a good parade as much as your daughter does, I see.” Mark couldn’t help but needle her. She reacted so prettily to it.

“Yes, I love a good parade. You make it sound like it should be a crime.”

“And you make it sound like it’s a crime that I noticed,” he shot back.

“No crime. Just not used to someone taking that much notice.”

“That’s hard to believe. You mean there’s no man who pays attention to you?”

“Getting a little personal, aren’t you, Doctor?” She glanced back at him.

“No, just making conversation.”

“Hey, Mom.”
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