A Perfect Homecoming

CHAPTER TWO

IF ASHLEIGH HAD THRIVED without him, Kyle didn’t want to know. He purposely kept his eyes and attention averted, unprepared for his inevitable physical reaction whenever she was near. Instead, he concentrated on Ryan as the boy explained how he got injured.

“I thought we talked about that wheelie stuff,” Kyle admonished gently.

Ryan hung his head, the expression on his face reminiscent of his father back when Scott and Kyle had been young and adventurous.

“At least wait until your training wheels are off before you try any of those tricks,” Kyle reminded him.

Ashleigh drew in an audible breath, probably upset that he would approve what she would consider dangerous behavior. He turned his head partway in her direction. “Better a wheelie than something worse.” He paused and made the mistake of catching her eye. She’d always been a stickler for safety and rules, even though she used to flip backward off someone’s shoulders onto a hardwood floor as a high school cheerleader.

“I was told you weren’t working today.” Ashleigh’s comment was more of an accusation than a question.

“Multicar accident on Hamilton.” He’d been about to go home when Paula called him about Ryan. Thankfully, she’d given him a heads-up that Ashleigh was in town and was bringing the boy in.

Ashleigh turned back to Ryan. “Maybe you should wait until there’s an adult with you before you try a wheelie.”

Ryan looked to Kyle for confirmation, but the emergency room doctor on duty interrupted them.

“Hey, Hank.” Kyle turned from the gurney and greeted him, shaking the older man’s hand when he came through the curtain before making the proper introductions. “Dr. Ashleigh Wilson, this is Dr. Hank Phillips. He joined the staff about a year ago.”

While the two shook hands, Hank ran his other hand through his thinning gray hair. “Are you Paula’s sister? The resemblance is remarkable.”

Kyle should have mentioned Ashleigh was Ryan’s aunt. Even if she hadn’t kept in contact with the boy.

“You’ve met my sister?” Ashleigh’s eyebrows rose.

“Oh, yes.” Hank chuckled. “She’s included me in several of their holiday gatherings since my kids all live a few time zones away.”

The color drained from Ashleigh’s face.

Kyle wondered how she liked hearing that this stranger played a bigger role in her family’s lives than she had.

Ashleigh changed the subject back to Ryan. “From the way Ryan’s holding his arm and the radial pain on contact, I’m pretty sure it’s a simple break.”

Hank turned to examine Ryan. “How you doin’, buddy?”

Meanwhile, Kyle went against his better judgment and scrutinized a preoccupied Ashleigh.

Dr. Ashleigh Wilson. He’d never minded that she’d kept her maiden name when they’d married. An homage to her father, Dr. Clayton Wilson—a man Kyle had been proud to know.

Ashleigh was a little thinner since the last time he’d seen her, pounds she couldn’t afford to lose. Other than that, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. His fingers itched to touch the loose tendril that escaped from her casually knotted hair. He longed to place his lips on the skin beneath it, to taste the sensitive spot on her neck that never failed to make her suck in her breath....

“Kyle?” From Hank’s tone, it wasn’t the first time the man had addressed him. All three of them stared at him.

He blinked twice. “Yes?”

“Do you want to go to Radiology with Ryan?” Hank narrowed his gaze and cocked his head in puzzlement.

“Of course.” Kyle then said to Ryan, “Let’s get you a wheelchair to ride in. Dr. Hank wants to take a picture of your arm.” Ryan’s eyes lit up as expected.

“Can we do a wheelie in it?” Ryan asked.

“We’ll see.” Kyle avoided Ashleigh’s gaze.

“But you and Aunt Ashleigh will both be there,” Ryan said. “Didn’t she say I needed an adult? Now I have two.”

“Aunt Ashleigh is going to wait for you here.” Kyle needed a break from her after that barely controlled fantasy.

“No,” Ashleigh countered. “I’m going with you.”

Kyle shrugged. “You’ll have to wait in the Radiology waiting room.”

Ashleigh’s cheek muscles tensed and she narrowed her eyes at Kyle. The daggers were locked and loaded.

“Hospital regulations,” he said pleasantly before she could argue. “You no longer have privileges at this hospital.” Her choice, but he didn’t say it aloud.

“You’re a pediatrician, as I recall.” Hank appeared oblivious to the tension in the room. “Where are you practicing now?”

Ashleigh’s color heightened. “I’m no longer practicing medicine. I work out of Richmond as a hospital fund-raiser.”

The reality of Ashleigh’s words hit Kyle in the pit of his stomach. Ashleigh had given up the career she adored because she could no longer bear to be around children.

* * *

ASHLEIGH FUMED AS she sat on the thinly padded vinyl chair in the radiology department waiting room. How dare Kyle exclude her? She was every bit the doctor he was, even if she hadn’t cared for patients since she left town.

She was perfectly happy working as a hospital fund-raiser. Turned out, she was pretty darn good at coming up with unique ways to get people to part with their money.

Which didn’t mean she never regretted giving up medicine—specifically working with children. She loved being in an office full of laughing and crying little ones, the noise and confusion never more than she could bear.

Until her last miscarriage.

That was the child she was supposed to finally carry to term. She’d made it into her second trimester and had begun telling people she was pregnant.

She crossed her arms over her abdomen and bent forward in pain at the vivid memory of that first wave of cramps that had ended her dream of giving Kyle the child he deserved.

“Are you okay?”

Ashleigh straightened at the young woman’s voice. “Yes, I’m fine.” Ryan sat in his wheelchair in front of a woman in purple scrubs. Her name tag read “Molly,” but she didn’t look familiar. She didn’t appear to recognize Ashleigh, either.

“Ryan’s all done.” Molly had a perky lilt that matched her smile. “Dr. Jennings and Dr. Phillips asked for him to wait with you while they consult with the radiologist.”

Ashleigh’s jaw clenched. She was being shut out again. She’d known the radiologist, Jim Gorman, since preschool. Under other circumstances she’d barge into his office, but she decided not to push the issue. In the short time she’d been at the hospital, several old acquaintances had given her a wide berth. They obviously weren’t fans of hers since the divorce.

Molly turned and left them alone in the waiting area.

“How’s your arm feeling?” Ashleigh asked Ryan.

“Okay, I guess. They let me see the picture of my arm bone. It was cool!” He busied himself locating hidden pictures in a kids’ magazine someone had given him, so Ashleigh didn’t say anything more.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes for a moment before realizing the voices around the corner were speaking about Kyle.

“It’s a shame about Dr. Jennings,” one female voice said.

“I know, he’s so nice. And cute, too.” The other female let out a quiet moan.

Ashleigh listened carefully, assuming they were discussing how she’d divorced poor Dr. Jennings, when two other people deep in conversation entered the waiting room. As they walked past her to the reception desk, Ashleigh could no longer hear the women.

So she rose from her seat and pretended to search for a magazine on the vertical acrylic rack bolted to the wall, while tuning her ears to the conversation around the corner.

She could only pick up certain words, but they were important words.

Accident, lawsuit, brain injury.

* * *

PAULA ROLLED FROM her side to her back and stared at the bedroom ceiling until she was ready to scream. Or at least until she found herself out of breath, forcing her to roll back onto her left side.

A few minutes ago, Mark had slammed the front door to announce his arrival and now she heard him rooting through kitchen cupboards searching for a snack.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she yelled.

“I won’t,” he promised, and she believed him. He’d been going through a growth spurt and he consumed food and outgrew clothing before the money left the checking account.

Paula struggled to a sitting position. Propping herself up with pillows against the headboard, she took her laptop from the drawer next to her bed and turned it on.

She needed to let Scott know what was going on. Kyle had confirmed Ryan’s arm was broken when he called about a half hour ago, but she didn’t want her husband to know the doctor had put her on bed rest. He had enough stress with his job and he didn’t need to have to worry about her, too.

“This is all my fault.” She spoke quietly to the empty room, choking up. “All my fault.”

As she typed an email to Scott, her fingers kept hitting the wrong keys because her eyes had blurred from gathering tears. She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks and onto the overstretched but clean shirt she’d put on after her shower.

She should be out of tears—she’d spent her entire shower sobbing. Bed rest. They sounded like the cruelest words ever. She should have taken her son to the emergency room.

She wiped the moisture from her cheeks and concentrated on the email.

Hey, Scott, I miss you so much. I hope you’re safe in whatever ocean you’re navigating.

Mark is doing well. He got an A on his spelling test this week and you know how much trouble he’s had in the past. He also had an assist in his soccer game. They lost three to one, but he was happy anyway.

Unfortunately, Ryan had a bike accident this afternoon and his arm is broken. Before you panic, it’s a simple break, no surgery needed. He’ll be in a cast for four to six weeks. Kyle is making sure he’s well taken care of. In fact, Kyle has been a huge help with the boys while you’ve been away. We should do something nice for him when you get back.

I saw the doctor today and my blood pressure is a little higher than it should be. Again, no need to worry. I’m doing exactly what she says.

Believe it or not, my sister arrived this afternoon. Aunt Viv called her and blew my situation all out of proportion. Ashleigh got here right before Ryan got hurt, so she was able to take him to the E.R. I have no idea how it went with her and Kyle, but she should be home with Ryan any time now.

I think that brings you up to speed. Always remember, I love you bunches and can’t wait until you’re back in my arms.

Paula hit Send and closed her laptop. She leaned her head back, missing the top of the pillow and hitting the headboard instead. Scooting to a more comfortable position would take too much energy. She simply shut her eyes and breathed deeply...until the next interruption came.

Her friends, Rhonda and Jean, had both brought over casseroles earlier and now apparently word was out that she was bedridden because she’d gotten several phone calls with offers of help.

Unsure if she drifted off or not, her eyes popped open at the tinkling sound of a text message on her cell phone. She reached over to the nightstand to pick it up.

Scott. He must have read her email already because he wanted to video chat.

She pulled her computer onto her lap again and opened the program that would bring his face into their bedroom.

“Hey, Paula,” Scott said when they connected. “How are you?” His usually laughing blue eyes were filled with concern and she couldn’t help but feel his love.

“Okay.” She tried to keep her tone light, but her voice cracked. She put a hand to her mouth.

“Everything will be fine, P.”

His soothing tone allowed her to take a few calming breaths.

“Do you need me to come home?” he asked. “I can talk to the chaplain and apply for hardship if this blood pressure thing is serious.”

“No, no, that’s okay. Everyone’s been so nice, offering help and bringing meals so I can take it easy. And I told you Ashleigh’s here.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, how’s that going?”

“Kind of chilly,” she admitted. “But we haven’t spent much time together yet. Ryan’s injury interrupted us.”

“Maybe her visit is what the two of you need to work things out.”

“Yeah. Exactly what I need right now to keep my blood pressure down,” she joked.

“Just follow doctor’s orders.”

“I know.” She tried to sound upbeat but failed.

“Talk to me,” he coaxed.

She gulped, unprepared to delve into her emotions. “You know how unhappy I was when I found out I was pregnant,” she began in little more than a whisper. It was supposed to be her time now that the boys were in school all day. She could finish her degree and then get her master’s in physical therapy. She’d finally have something to be proud of, an accomplishment of her own.

“This isn’t your fault, Paula,” Scott pointed out. “You accepted this pregnancy a long time ago, unless you changed your mind?”

“Oh, no!” she cried. “Of course not! I already love this baby more than I ever expected to.” She swallowed.

“Stop thinking you’re to blame.” Scott’s tone was firm. “For both you and the baby.”

Easier said than done.

She deliberately changed the subject because he’d never convince her that she wasn’t responsible and then they’d only get into an argument. So they discussed Ryan’s injury until voices carried from the front door.

Ashleigh and Ryan had returned.

“They’re back from the orthopedist,” Paula told Scott. “Do you want to say ‘hi’ to the boys?”

“Sure.” He put his index finger up and Paula did the same, getting closer to the screen until it appeared as if the tips of their fingers touched. “I love you, P.” This time his voice broke slightly.

“I love you, too, Scotty.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Let me call the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

She tried her best to smile and then turned her head in the direction of her bedroom door to call the boys.

Was that Kyle’s voice, too?

What she wouldn’t have given to be a fly on that hospital wall when he and her sister saw each other again after two years.

* * *

ASHLEIGH WAS SURE there must be steam coming out of her ears as she parked Paula’s minivan in the driveway. Ryan had chosen to ride in Kyle’s truck—not that she could fault the boy—and now Kyle walked right into her sister’s home as if he lived there.

Ashleigh couldn’t imagine feeling less connected to any of them.

She took a minute to gather herself, refusing to give in to hurt feelings. They’d all successfully gone on with their lives without her.

So what?

So had she. In fact, she needed to check in with a few clients. She walked to her car and retrieved her suitcase from her trunk. She wheeled it up the walkway, along with her briefcase and medical bag. Her purse hung over her shoulder and she made it to the front door before it slipped down her arm.

Debating whether to knock or walk in, she straightened her back and entered her sister’s home.

Voices came from Paula’s bedroom, but Ashleigh chose to avoid Kyle. Instead, she parked her things off to the side of the front door and went into the kitchen to brew a cup of tea.

While waiting for the water to boil, she considered Paula’s house. Aunt Viv had mentioned that the older couple who’d owned the house for longer than Ashleigh had been alive had passed away within weeks of each other. Rather than putting the house up for sale in the depressed real estate market, their children had chosen to update and rent out the home. Ashleigh hadn’t been upstairs yet, but more than likely, the Cape Cod contained a full bath and two bedrooms on the second floor, one for each of the boys. Paula’s bedroom appeared to be the only bedroom on this floor. Where did that leave Ashleigh?

She sighed. Looked like she’d have to make do with the living room sofa for who knew how long. The one decent hotel was fifteen minutes out of town and that would make school mornings more hectic than necessary. Plus, if Ashleigh didn’t sleep in the house, then Paula would have to get up with the boys if they needed something during the night.

The teakettle whistled. Since there were several tea flavors to choose from in Paula’s cabinet, Ashleigh decided to ask if she’d like a cup. Not like in the past when they could practically read each other’s minds. Or at least not complain if the wrong kind of tea was brewed for them.

Ashleigh started back down the hall as Kyle exited Paula’s bedroom.

“I’m giving them some time alone,” he told Ashleigh, implying she shouldn’t interrupt Paula and her boys.

“Asking Paula if she wants tea will only take a second.”

“She never passes up a cup of tea,” Kyle said. “Any flavor that’s decaf.”

Ashleigh hated when he answered a question before she could ask it. Or maybe she hated the fact that he knew her sister better than she did.

She turned on her heel, annoyed when he followed her to the kitchen.

He pulled out a cup of his own from the cupboard when she didn’t offer him one and brewed himself a single cup of coffee.

“You’re pretty comfortable here,” she said before she could stop herself.

“I come over a few times a week,” he said. “Dinner, helping with Mark’s homework, yard work. You know.”

She nodded, even though she didn’t know. The last few months of their marriage, he’d put in so many hours at the hospital that she’d barely seen him. Eating one meal a week together, maybe two if she was lucky, had been the extent of their interaction. Much less time than he’d been giving her sister and nephews.

There were countless comebacks on the tip of her tongue, but she held them in, unwilling to begin a fruitless argument.

Kyle took lemon juice from the fridge and held it out. “For Paula’s tea.”

Ashleigh’s fingers shook as she took the bottle and added a splash to the tea. How could she have forgotten how her sister preferred her tea? Had two years turned them into strangers?

Kyle sipped his coffee, set the cup on the counter and pulled out a spoon, efficiently swirling the liquids in Paula’s cup together. When he picked up the cup to take it to her sister, Ashleigh realized she’d been mesmerized, remembering how those fingers used to manipulate her until she lost complete control of both body and soul.

Kyle left with Paula’s tea. Ashleigh didn’t argue, needing a minute to slow her breathing. She sat at the kitchen table and dunked her tea bag up and down, staring at it until her eyes blurred.

“Hi, Aunt Ashleigh!” Mark’s sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway startled her.

“Mark! You’ve grown so much!” Ashleigh stood to hug the grinning nine-year-old who came almost to her collarbone even in her three-inch wedge heels. She was about to ask how school was going, but he ran off when Ryan called him.

Mark was no sooner gone than Kyle appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’ll help the boys move Ryan into Mark’s room before I go.”

“I don’t want to kick him out of his room.” She stared at the swirls in her tea.

“He’s fine with it,” Kyle said. “Mark has bunk beds.”

Of course he’d already finalized details. He practically lived here.

“Scott doesn’t mind you spending so much time with his family?” The snotty question flew from her mouth before she could stop it.

Two years ago she’d have done anything to get him to show a little emotion. She’d gone so far as to divorce him, but even that hadn’t produced a reaction. Now he was silent until she turned to look at him and realized with alarm that she’d made him angry. Narrowed eyes and pursed lips were his tell.

Yep, definitely angry.

She wasn’t sure if she’d been trying for that reaction or not. Maybe she’d wanted some kind of response from him. Anger, joy, resentment, pleasure. Anything but steely control.

Whatever his emotion, Kyle’s words were deliberate. “Before he was deployed, Scott asked me to look after his family. If you have a problem with it, then maybe you should go back to your life in Richmond.”

A slap in the face would have been less painful than his contempt.

Ashleigh kept a tight rein on her own emotions. Act cool. “Whatever.”

“No, not ‘whatever.’” His voice rose in volume as he set his coffee down too fast. It sloshed over the top and onto the table. He turned to the sink for a paper towel, jerking the roll so hard that the sheets unraveled. He tore off a single sheet and cleaned up the mess in one infuriated swipe.

He held the used towel over the trash can and glared at Ashleigh. “I get why you’re here. Your sister needs you. Your whole family needs you.” He slammed the lid closed on the trash can. “Just don’t take your failings out on the rest of us.”

Ashleigh stood so quickly her chair nearly tipped over. “My failings?” Such nerve. So he did blame her for the miscarriages. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He shrugged. “Physically.”

What did he want from her? Didn’t he realize how difficult this was? Coming back to the town where her life had fallen apart?

She stepped to the opposite counter, her back to him. A single tear rolled down her cheek—she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing her wipe it away.

“I get it.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “You don’t want me here.”

“If only that were true.”

Before she could spin around and ask what he meant, he and his coffee had vanished from the kitchen.