Stars Fall From the Sky (Reigning Hearts Book 2) Page 4

  His new home was a small but efficient apartment directly above his practice on Main Street, a mere block from the Pineapple Grove art galleries and quaint shops and cafés. He kept his hybrid car parked in a lot nearby in the event he needed to see a patient outside the city limits in the more rural areas.

  Standing in the hallway in front of a mirror, he adjusted his silk tie a final time before swiping his keys off the table and grabbing his coffee tumbler. He jogged down the narrow stairs and unlocked the door to his practice at the bottom. The tiny waiting room was spotless, the magazines and potted plants tended by Mrs. Dermott perfectly arranged. Jonathon sighed and flicked on the overhead fluorescent lights before flipping around the small “open” sign on the ancient door.

  The ample space was efficient with a waiting room, receptionist area, his office, a small kitchen area, and two patient rooms. When he had first taken over the little practice from Dr. Preston, he had thought about expanding into the vacant space next door. But soon after, he realized the real estate he’d acquired was plenty and settled in for the long haul.

  Sipping on his coffee, he fired up his laptop as residual sweat from his grueling workout dotted his forehead. Before putting on his glasses, he quickly pulled open his desk drawer to grab a tissue and stopped mid-reach. Swallowing hard, he gently touched the framed photo he kept hidden with his index finger and paused. With his jaw clenched, his gaze took in the familiar face of his beloved, the curve of her smile causing his lips to twitch upward at the corners. Oh, how he missed her.

  Slowly, he shut the drawer and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He couldn’t allow himself to wallow for even a second in self-pity. His life was all about efficiency now. With new resolve, he settled his glasses over his ears and focused on the screen in front of him, thankful for his daily office routine.

  An email from Mrs. Dermott immediately caught his eye, and he opened it. In her subtle, loving way, she reminded him about the Grief Care class starting up at the Baptist church down the street. Biting his lip, he shook his head. Jonathon knew she meant well but was he ready to share his pain with strangers? Hadn’t he finally come to grips with his loss on his own? He was, after all, a doctor and trained to handle grieving families in times of tragedy. The different stages he had gone through were way behind him, weren’t they? The initial guilt and pain he felt were the worst, replaced with anger and a long bout of depression. But he had soldiered through like the professional that he claimed to be. Wasn’t he on the other side of this by now? For fuck’s sake, he moved on from his former life and ended up starting over from scratch in this tiny beach town. The only lack of improvement in his life was not accepting the hand he was dealt with. He could never, ever yield to what had happened, he was sure of it.

  Determined not to go down a miserable rabbit hole, he intentionally shifted his focus and became engrossed with insurance claims, signing off on numerous paperwork Mrs. Dermott had left for him in a thick file. It wasn’t until his stomach growled with hunger that he realized he had been working in quiet solitude for hours.

  Jonathon stood and stretched as he eyed his expensive watch. He still had another hour before the diner closed, or he could grab a quick bite from the coffee house around the corner. Flipping the open sign to the closed side, he locked the front door of his practice and decided on something from the coffee house. The humidity in the air was thick, and the smell of the ocean prevalent as the sea breeze tussled his hair. Breathing in deeply, he decided right then he could never tire of coastal living, grateful to be out of Atlanta and away from the ghosts of his former life that haunted him.

  As he made his way past colorfully painted Adirondack chairs and cheerful planters bursting with late summer spindly blooms, he squinted in the bright sunlight and thought about going back for his sunglasses. He nodded at a few familiar locals before he approached the door to the café and pulled it open. A tiny bell fastened at the top of the entrance dinged, causing the perky owner to look up from behind the counter and smile.

  “Hey, Dr. Walden. How are you doin’ today?”

  Jonathon nodded and offered a small smile. “Hey, Nancy. I’m good.”

  “With school back in session, it feels like a ghost town around here. Are y’all busy today?” The petite woman was always friendly and occasionally comped his lunch. During his grand re-opening, he had used her catering services to serve mini-sandwiches, coffee, and cookies to the patients who came in to meet him.

  “Not really. It’s a good time to catch up on paperwork if you know what I mean.”

  Nancy smiled as if she understood. “The usual today? Or I’ve got a nice seafood gumbo special with a half a sandwich?”

  Jonathon shook his head. “Too hot for soup today. I’ll take the chicken Caesar and a decaf iced tea.”

  “You got it.”

  Nancy rang up his meal, and he paid her in cash. Only a couple people sat along a wall of two-top tables situated underneath numerous paintings and photos created by the local artists. He chose to sit facing the street view under art for sale he admired. The familiar image was of the Sandersville Beach Pier in a swirl of vibrant colors. As canned soft rock music faintly played throughout the café, he sipped on his iced tea and relaxed. The bell on the front entrance dinged and a woman struggling with an infant stroller suddenly caught his eye. Without hesitation, he jumped up from his seat and hurried to help her with the heavy door.

  “Oh, thank you so much,” she shouted over the screeching baby.

  “No problem,” he offered.

  The woman had sunglasses on and quickly swiped them off her face, pushing them into the giant diaper bag that hung over the stroller handles. When she looked right at him, he remembered.

  “Mrs. McCormick? Good to see you again.” Her forehead wrinkled before her brown eyes became large and curious as if she struggled to remember him. “It’s me, Dr. Walden.” He pressed his hand against his chest.

  Distracted by her crying daughter, she seemed flustered. “Oh! Hi.”

  He watched her fight to get the stroller straps unbuckled and noticed the flushed face of her screeching baby.

  “Let me help,” he insisted before bending over and efficiently unlocking the straps in two clicks. Without her permission, he pulled the baby from the stroller and held the back of her tiny head with his large hand, shifting her against his shoulder. “There, there. You’re okay,” he coddled.

  The tiny tot started to calm down immediately as he patted her diapered behind. He fumbled with her shoes and socks and managed to get them off, flinging them into the stroller bed. Flummoxed by his actions as soon as he did it, he quickly offered a clinical explanation as Mrs. McCormick watched his every move with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

  “Sometimes, the heat can affect babies just like it affects adults. She was hot.”

  Mrs. McCormick slowly nodded as if perplexed by his actions. Jonathon could feel his face grow warm and held the baby in front of him. “You feel better now, don’t you little girl?” The baby offered a toothless grin and gurgled, which made him chuckle.

  “You doctors must have all the secrets. Daisy never goes voluntarily into a stranger’s arms. How’d you do that?”

  Jonathon’s smile faded, and he licked his lips, shifting uncomfortably back and forth on the black and white checkered floor. His reply came out stuttered. “I’m…, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have picked her up like that without your permission. Here you go.” He held the baby out to her with extended arms as she wriggled and cooed. When Mrs. McCormick took her from him, the fussing began all over again.

  “Come on, Daisy. It’s okay,” she shushed her daughter who started to wail.

  Taking a step forward, Jonathon lowered his head and caught Daisy’s eye. He guessed her to be between six or seven months old and couldn’t help but chuckle when she screeched with pleasure at the sight of him, flapping her chubby arms.

  “Would you look at that?” Mrs. McCormick uttered, astoni
shed.

  “May I?” Jonathon asked this time.

  “Be my guest,” she replied, her tone filled with awe.

  Jonathon held his hands out and welcomed the tiny human back into his arms. “Hello, Daisy.” She seemed fascinated with his red tie and patted it with dimpled fingers. When he looked back at Mrs. McCormick, he couldn’t help but notice the pained expression on her face as her chest rose and fell in deep breaths. Believing she might be faint from the hot day, he held the baby in one arm and grabbed the woman by her bent elbow in the other, leading her to the nearest table.

  “Here, why don’t you sit down and relax.” He gestured toward the seat. “It’s unusually hot today, and you look like you could use a cold drink.”

  Numbly, Mrs. McCormick sat and nodded.

  Jonathon waited for a beat before he went back for the stroller and grabbed it by the handle with his free hand, rolling it over to her table. Concern was starting to erupt in his being as the woman seemed out of sorts.

  “Do you want me to order you something?”

  “What?” Her gaze shifted to his face for a second before she looked away and swallowed. “No. No, that’s okay. I’m waiting for a friend. I’ll just…order when she gets here.”

  Jonathon couldn’t help the odd wave of disappointment he felt. Looking at Daisy one last time, he lightly kissed her forehead before handing her back to her mother. “She’s a doll. It was nice to see you again, Mrs. McCormick.” As he lowered Daisy into her mother’s arms, he was unexpectedly delighted by her reply.

  “Ginger. Please. You can call me Ginger.”

  Chapter Six

  Emeline happily chatted away while she bounced Daisy on her lap and told Ginger about her wedding invitations that had finally arrived. Ginger nodded and smiled back at the pair but was distracted by Dr. Walden sitting across the café in her line of vision. Stealing glances of the man as he ate his salad, she was taken aback that she once thought he resembled Rusty in her fevered state the night of his house call. She must have been hallucinating because the man looked nothing like Rusty. The good doctor was handsome enough with his bookish looks and tall, athletic frame. But Rusty would have towered over him in an impressive stance of height and hard muscles.

  When Ginger realized Em had stopped talking and was watching her from across the table with a sly smile and eyebrow raised, she quickly grabbed her tea and brought it up to her mouth for a sip.

  “What?” She was casual in her response, giving nothing away.

  “What’s going on with you? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said since I got here.”

  Licking her lips, Ginger set the glass back down on the table and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should be glad I finally took you up on a late lunch.”

  Emeline tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “I am, but what’s got you so distracted?”

  To Ginger’s horror, she watched Emmy look around the café as if trying to figure her out.

  “Nothing! Stop being so inquisitive.” Ginger couldn’t help it that she stole another glance at Dr. Walden to which Emmy homed in.

  “Aha!” Turning all the way around, Emeline looked across the room toward the doctor before she leaned into Ginger with wide eyes. “Why are you looking at Dr. Walden?” she whispered.

  By this time, Ginger had pulled a burpee cloth from the diaper bag and handed it across the table for Emeline to wipe the drool coming from Daisy’s mouth as she cooed, keenly aware that she was busted. “I’m not.”

  Emmy chuckled. “Yes, you are. What’s going on? You seem so…nervous.”

  Her friend meant well, and Ginger thought it might be a relief to tell her what was on her mind.

  “It’s… nothing. I just ran into him before you got here, and it took me by surprise, is all.”

  “Why? He comes in here all the time. You know his practice is right around the corner, right? He’s the town doctor for crying out loud.”

  “I know. It’s just that…” Ginger casually looked to see if the man was preoccupied with his lunch and let out a huff.

  “What?” Emeline insisted.

  “It’s just that I haven’t seen him since that night of the house call. You know, when he saw my…” Ginger looked down at her chest to give her friend a hint.

  “When he saw your what?”

  Ginger’s face grew hot with mortification, and she gritted her teeth. “Boobs,” she whispered in a terse tone.

  Emeline laughed out loud, which caused Dr. Walden to glance their way and smile.

  “Shhhh!!! Em, I’m beggin’ you, don’t cause a scene.”

  “Oh, hush, Ginger. You’re too funny. Dr. Walden is a professional. So what, he saw your tits. He probably sees multiple every day.”

  “Oh my god, I shouldn’t have told you.” Ginger rolled her eyes and sat back against the hard booth, folding her arms across her chest.

  Emeline changed Daisy’s position to where she was holding her against her shoulder. She was a natural with her daughter and patted her on the back. “Listen. I’m proud of you for getting out today with Daisy. That’s a big step considering you haven’t left your house in months. You know this is a small town, and everybody knows everybody’s business. You were bound to run into Dr. Walden at some point. You got it out of the way. Now you can move on. It’s no big deal.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Ginger replied, nervously chewing on her lower lip.

  The café owner approached their table and set their lunch in front of them. “Enjoy, ladies.”

  “Thank you,” they said in unison.

  The woman paused and wrung her hands in front of her apron as she turned toward Ginger. “Mrs. McCormick, I just wanted to let you know how sorry we all are about your husband. If there’s anything we can do for you or your daughter, please, let us know. He was such a nice guy. I’d like to send you some dessert samples after you finish your lunch. On the house?”

  The woman’s smile was kind, which did little to keep Ginger’s heart from sinking to her feet. She managed a polite, “thank you” as the café owner turned and walked away. When she looked across the table at Emeline, her friend shook her head with remorse and mumbled, “Small town, see?”

  Ginger held her arms out to take the baby, but Emmy waved her off.

  “Eat your lunch. I’ve got little Miss Daisy.”

  Ginger tried to relax but felt rigid in the small booth forcing the café owner’s condolences to settle. She took a deep breath, but her hands still shook as she brought the sandwich up to her mouth to take a bite.

  Emeline acted as if nothing happened and moved on with small chit-chat about the weather before hitting her with a more sensitive subject. “So, have you thought any more about going to the Grief Care meeting tonight? You told me you’d think about it last time I brought it up. I hate to sound like a broken record, but I really think it might be a good thing for you, sweetie.”

  Ginger slowly swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and looked away. The last thing she wanted to do was sit in a meeting with a bunch of other sad people trying to come to grips with what they’d lost. But the pain was real, and she did have questions she might like to ask the professional counselor who led the group. The first time her mother and Emeline brought up the monthly meeting, Ginger angrily shut them down and told them to mind their own business. She didn’t mean to lash out at her loved ones and knew they meant well and were only trying to help. But her irritation lingered, and she found it very hard to let go of the one question that seemed to confound her daily. It was simple, really, and yet highly complex, the answer entirely out of reach: “Why?”

  Watching her baby girl from across the table in Emeline’s arms, Ginger knew she needed to find peace or closure, or whatever the hell you called it when your heart was shattered, and you didn’t know how you could ever move on again. She admitted, she needed help, and the once a week Grief Care meeting seemed like the most logical place to start. Perhaps a professional could
shine some light on her angst so she could begin the long road to healing.

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve decided I’m gonna go.”

  “You are?” Emeline expression was of surprise, her dark eyebrows humorously peaked above her wide eyes.

  “Yes. As much as I don’t want to, I know I need to.” Ginger watched as her friend’s appearance displayed what looked like, relief. “Thanks for volunteering to babysit.”

  Emmy’s eyes glistened, and she kissed the top of Daisy’s head. “I’ll babysit this little nugget anytime you need me.”

  With that conversation out of the way, the two friends talked about lighter subjects and enjoyed their lunch. By the time they finished, the café owner had brought over an assortment of small plated desserts. Daisy was strapped into her stroller and played with a teething toy while the girls dug in with two forks.

  When the owner was safely out of earshot, Emeline mumbled softly with her mouth full. “Your pie is better.”

  Ginger shook her head with chagrin. “But this is good.” She licked the thick apple filling off her fork but had to admit—her apple pie was better. She certainly didn’t want to come across as ungrateful by the owner’s gesture.

  “You’re just saying that because you’re a nice Southern girl. Come on. You know yours is better.”

  Before Ginger could respond, Dr. Walden appeared right next to their table, causing Daisy to screech a welcome.

  “Hey, Doctor. How’s it going?” Emeline cooed in response to the baby smiling.

  “Good, thanks.” He turned to Ginger, who had gone rigid in her seat again. “Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for grabbing your daughter out of the stroller like that. Force of habit, I guess. I see a kid crying, and I go into fix-it mode.”

  Ginger nodded. “Not a problem, Doctor. You can hold Daisy anytime.” Her voice was unusually high in her response.