The Nurse And The Single Dad
Zoey didn’t exclude herself from the possibility of having something more in her future, though. Not entirely. She did have a little hope left, a dying ember. But she wondered if she could approach it with the passion she knew would be needed, as the passion had been dead in her for such a long time now. Brad had seen to that.
Maybe someday she’d settle down and try it again, since life alone wasn’t that great. But not until she found all the pieces of herself that were still missing—the pieces Brad had stolen from her when their marriage had broken up. The basic hope that he’d robbed her of. The disillusionment he’d left in its place. He’d chipped away and chipped away until so much was gone. And she’d let it happen because she’d thought that was part of being in true love, naive as that might have seemed.
Yet, true love had failed her. And quickly. She’d recognized Brad for who he really was early on, and the rest of their few months together had turned into a futile effort of honing her coping skills, trying to figure out where she’d gone so wrong, falling for someone like him. How could she have been so stupid?
Admittedly, he’d hurt her. Not in her heart so much as in her confidence in herself to make wise relationship choices. He’d caused her to lose her bearings in all the things she’d always believed, always wanted. Even now, while she was sure of herself on the outside, everything inside her still quivered with doubts. The result of that was a lack of trust in herself to venture out again. She hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t even thought much about it. Turning her back on the whole muddy affair was easier and, until she was sure she wouldn’t mess up again, she was perfectly happy right where she was.
Sighing, Zoey thought about what her future might hold. A real relationship? One that she trusted? Suddenly, Daniel flashed into her mind and she fantasized about how it would be nice to come home to someone like him. Someone who nurtured. Someone who was passionate about his love. It was such an illusion, though. Daniel was one in a million. She’d heard the affectionate way he’d spoken to his wife, seen the way he’d taken care of her. How he’d sat at her bedside for hours on end, simply holding her hand while she slept. How tenderly he’d kissed her when her pain had been so excruciating she’d been nearly out of her head. How lovingly he’d embraced her in her final moments.
Yes, she’d been granted such an inspiring look into an intimacy she’d never before seen the likes of, and that was when she knew that there weren’t many men like Daniel out there. Elizabeth had been a very lucky woman to have him and, in a way, Zoey envied her for that because a man like Daniel was all she’d ever wanted for herself.
Would she ever find that man? Find someone who cared so deeply and passionately that nothing else in the world seemed to matter? Find someone to love her the way Daniel had loved Elizabeth?
Daniel... Zoey’s mind wandered back to him once again as she drove to her first appointment. He looked good with those few extra pounds he’d put on. And his eyes weren’t so haunted now. It meant he was moving on, and that was commendable, considering what he’d gone through. Some people got stuck at the mourning stage and couldn’t get out. But he had his daughter to care for, and he also had his work at the hospital. Those were good for him. They gave him a great focus.
It had been nice bumping into Daniel today. As a rule she never kept up with the families of her patients once her term of service had ended. Some of them wanted to cling to her as a means of avoidance, but she’d found that a clean break was better for everyone concerned. So chance meetings like the one she’d had with Daniel were rare, and ever rarer was sitting down and talking to them. In fact, Daniel was her first, and she didn’t know what had compelled her to sit down with him.
Maybe because, in theory, he was a colleague? They were, after all, employed by the same hospital even though they were totally isolated from one another. In the past year, when she’d had occasion to go the hospital, she’d glanced around, wondering if she’d see him. Their paths had never crossed, however, and it had never occurred to her to look him up. Because she always kept it professional, as there had to be divisions between personal and professional.
Not that she had a personal life going on right now. Go home, study case notes, feed Fluffy, her Persian diva cat, make a few phone calls, eat a late supper, do some reading and drift off to sleep. Repeat the next day. Then there were the weekends—errands galore. Grocery shopping, laundry, at least a half-day in the office putting charts onto the computer while no one was around to bother her. Plus all the other stuff she did on a daily basis. Oh, and wall-climbing on most Saturdays. She did enjoy that!
Occasionally, if she was bored, she’d treat herself to a movie with all the trimmings—diet soda and buttered popcorn. In the dark, no one cared that she was there all by herself, and it was nice to bask in that anonymity for a couple of hours. No expectations, no worries.
But every Sunday morning she made that obligatory call to her mother.
“How are you doing, dear?” her mother would say.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Anything happening in your life yet?”
“Same ol’, same ol’.”
“No new boyfriend, no dating?”
“Just keeping to myself, Mom. And working.”
“So when are you going to find yourself a nice man, settle down and give me some grandbabies?”
“Not in the near future, as far as I can tell. I don’t meet eligible men in my line of work.”
“So go work at the hospital where you can snatch up some handsome young doctor.”
“I don’t want to work in the hospital and I don’t need a handsome young doctor in my life.”
“You never change, Zoey,” her mother would always accuse her. “You never change.”
Same conversation every Sunday morning, and that was what never changed. But that phone call to dear old Mumsy was a habit she couldn’t bring herself to break. So she endured it along with the rest of her obligatory chores. Then twice a year, she trekked home to Omaha for a week, to have that conversation in person. She’d gotten used to enduring the recurring topic in exchange for the week of pampering her mother lavished on her. That part was nice—being taken care of rather than being the caregiver.
As Zoey pulled her little red car into her patient’s driveway, she looked up at the white frame house sitting atop a slight knoll and sighed. It would have been nice spending a little while longer with Daniel this morning. But duty called. For both of them. And her duty right now was to make sure Mrs. Barrow was up to a trip to her doctor this afternoon. Bathed, hair washed, dressed, vital signs stable, medicines administered... It was a privilege tending to someone who needed so much help, but Mrs. Barrow was one of the rare ones who was spunky in her end stages. Zoey liked that. Liked the feisty attitude as it made her feel a little feisty herself.
She sighed again as she headed to the front door, medical bag in hand. Something about Daniel had caused a restlessness in her. She didn’t know why and wasn’t keen to explore the reasons, but she wanted a date. Yes, a date. One night only. Wine and dine. No strings. It would break up her routine and prove to her that there was still a little human need left in her after all.
But with Daniel? She wasn’t sure about that. He was a reminder, though, that something was missing.
CHAPTER TWO
THE INSTRUCTIONS ON his invitation were perfectly clear. He was to be seated at table seventeen, the table all the way to the far right of the immense banquet hall, halfway from the front and halfway from the back. Two years ago, when he’d attended the hospital fundraiser with Elizabeth, they’d been seated near the front, directly in the center of everything, at a table with three other couples and a clear view of the podium. From prominent to insignificant, he thought, as he started looking for his table.
Daniel was never particularly keen to go to these kinds of affairs, especially ones that required a tuxedo. But Elizabeth had loved getting all dressed up and attending, so he’d been dragged along compliantly for her sake. He thought back to the lovely floor-length strapless blue satin gown she’d worn at their last hospital banquet together. It was stunning on her. His wife had been a head-turner, a real looker, with her long, flowing, sunny blond hair and inviting smile. Someone everyone had noticed, and envied. And he’d been the envy of every man there, having a woman like Elizabeth on his arm.
“Go on without me, Daniel. Continue to do the things we loved to do together.”
Because she’d loved that night so much, and it had shone on her face, he’d been happy to be there with her. Proud, in fact. Then last year he hadn’t attended as a single. It had been too difficult. Too many memories. And so much had happened in that year that the annual fundraiser had been the farthest thing from his mind when it rolled around again this year. Now, here he was, asked by his department head to be here.
“You’re not getting out enough,” Walter Downing had said. “I’m worried because, ever since Elizabeth, you seem to be retreating from the world. You need to shake up your life and get it going again.”
Well, things in his life were shaking up, were gradually falling back into normal place. He supposed he should look at coming to this fundraiser as part of that.
Daniel did have to admit that this event was always a nice affair. The food was good, the entertainment was above par and the speeches urging those in attendance to do their part toward the benefit of the hospital were neither grueling nor long-winded, thank God! Tonight, though, he had an idea that he was to be seated at one of the notorious singles tables as he had not marked off the “plus one” option on his RSVP. Daniel Caldwell, alone. Damn, he didn’t like the feel of that.
Sighing, Daniel made his way through the crowd and past the bar, where there were long lines of people waiting to be served. He bypassed the alcohol altogether, not that he would have minded a good, stiff drink to get him through the evening, and went off in search of his seat. The number 17 was clearly marked on a placard in the center of the table, right next to the centerpiece of pink and white carnations mingling with red teacup-rosebuds and snuggled into sprigs of greenery and baby’s breath. Two of the chairs at the table for eight were tilted up, indicating that two people had already laid claim to their spots, then wandered off. Probably to the bar, he guessed. Interestingly enough, the two reserved spots were not next to each other, so the people who’d tipped up those chairs had purposely chosen spots on opposite sides of the table. No new friendships would be forged at this table tonight, Daniel thought to himself as he pulled out a chair and seated himself.
He glanced at his watch. There were still fifteen minutes to wait. A long, boring fifteen minutes, since he doubted he’d know anyone at the table, which meant conversation would be held to a bare minimum. At least on his part it would be, as he hated shouting over the noisy crowd in the room just to be heard. Well, so be it. That was fine with him, as he didn’t have time for new friends in his life, anyway. These days, he barely had time to acknowledge his old friends, and on those occasions when he was thrown together with someone from his past it was usually someone he’d related to with Elizabeth.
Once, he’d lived in a world where his wife had been enough and now, without her, he was afraid he caused everyone around him to be uncomfortable. They didn’t know what to say or how to act since her death. There’d been some invitations to dinner or other activities at first, more out of pity than the genuine desire to entertain him. But he’d always had the graciousness to decline as he didn’t want to cause the ones asking him to feel ill at ease. Besides, he always had the excuse that he had to get home to Maddie.
Maddie might have been a convenient excuse on more than one occasion, but he truly enjoyed his limited hours with her. Wanted more of them. Envied the time his mother-in-law had with her, the parts of Maddie’s life that he was missing out on.
“Is this seat taken?” The familiar voice from beside him startled Daniel out of his deep ponderings.
He looked up, then rose slowly to his feet. “You’re assigned to the notorious singles table, too?” he asked Zoey as he pulled out the chair for her.
“Is that what this is?”
Daniel chuckled. “Always put off to the side where people don’t have to observe our awkwardness at being here alone.”
“What if being alone is a choice?” she asked, sliding into her chair.
“Then you’d prove the banquet planners wrong, since they set up all but one or two tables for couples.”
“Ah, yes. The current mindset. Better off staying home than coming alone. But you’re here alone, so how do you feel about that?”
“I’m here, but it’s not by choice.”
“You were forced?” She smiled and her blue eyes twinkled.
“Let’s just say that it was strongly recommended that I attend this year. In other words, I took the hint from my department head and came, although I’d rather be home in my jeans and T-shirt, drinking a beer, reading a story to Maddie.”
“Well, I’ve never been to one of these affairs before, so I don’t know how to respond to that.” She picked up the glass of ice water in front of her and took a sip. “But I was pleased to receive an invitation. This was my first one and I felt honored that the planners would think to include me. Call me dumb or misguided, but I’ve been looking forward to tonight for weeks. Even bought a new dress for the occasion.” She sat the glass of water down and looked over her shoulder at the crowd who were slowly migrating to their tables. “So do they expect us to whip out our checkbooks and make a contribution later on?”
“Well, they call it a fundraiser because there are a lot of dignitaries and corporate heads here, but the goal is to raise funds from them. Let them whip out their checkbooks and write the checks.”
“Then why are we here?”
“To show that we all stand behind the cause.”
“Which means they’re showing us off as one big, happy family?”
“Something like that.”
Zoey sat up straight in her seat and smiled at the man taking a seat across the table from her. “Nice size crowd,” she said to Daniel. “Is it like this every year?”
Daniel sat up straighter too but he wasn’t appraising the crowd. Instead, he was trying to catch glimpses of Zoey without her noticing. “Actually, it seems to get larger every year. I remember when they used to hold it in one of the hospital banquet rooms, but we’ve grown so much they moved it a couple years ago to this hotel.”
“Hospital services are expanding, aren’t they? I suppose that accounts for the size of the crowd—expansion equals more VIPs to court. Do you like working for such a large institution, Daniel?”
“Actually, I do. It offers a lot more medical services for its patients than a lot of other smaller hospitals can offer. So, since the goal of the hospital is to provide the best patient care we can, having better and bigger medical opportunities is a good thing. It allows me to accomplish more in the course of any given day.”
“Elizabeth was proud of your accomplishments, you know. She mentioned that several times.”
“Did she?” It was still not easy talking about Elizabeth but, surprisingly, Zoey did relieve some of that anxiety for him as she was so easy about the whole subject.
Zoey nodded. “She said you made a difference. That your work here was important.”
“Well, she was a little bit biased, I think.” He looked around at all the tables beginning to fill up, frowned and shook his head. So many tables, so many people... Not really his thing. Although, the prospect of sitting next to Zoey all evening seemed good.
“You’re frowning,” she said. “Something wrong?”
“You know, I wish they would have put me in the last row. I actually asked for that assignment, but the organizers told me those tables are reserved for latecomers.”
“The last row? Why? Because you wanted to sneak out?”
“The word sneak sounds so devious. I wouldn’t have been devious about it. Instead, I would simply have said my goodbyes and walked out the door. Tux tails flapping in the breeze, I’d be in that much of a hurry.”
“So your master plan was spoiled by your lack of proximity to the door?”
“Leaving from this spot’s not so easy.” He gestured to the back half of the room. “Too many witnesses.”
“I could almost be offended.”
“Why so?”
“You’ve got exceptional company at this table.” The table was almost full now but the only two people sat down who were talking were Daniel and Zoey. “Including me. And I take it personally that you want to escape.”
“Not escape so much as depart with an excuse.”
“Excuse?” She laughed out loud. “Like you hate banquet food, or fundraisers, or large groups of people?”
“Is this a multiple-choice quiz? Can I choose all of the above?” Amazingly, he was enjoying this conversation. As he’d noted before, talking to Zoey was so easy. He’d avoided her all during Elizabeth’s last weeks, probably because Zoey had been the constant reminder of things to come. That had been his loss, he was suddenly discovering.
“Just pretend you’re at the coffee shop right now, sitting at your table alone, reading your newspaper. Maybe that’ll get you through.”
“Right. I’m at the coffee shop with five hundred of my closest friends, all of them wearing tuxedos and formal gowns.” He cringed. “Think I’ll get myself a new coffee shop. One that’s a little more intimate and doesn’t have quite the same dress code.”
“Do you have a phobia about large crowds?”
Daniel shook his head. “Not really. It’s more of an avoidance issue, I think. I’m not a particularly good socializer around a lot of people, and I get frustrated trying to put myself out there in a situation where everyone, frankly, doesn’t care if you’re there or not. I like small groups better, and one-on-one interactions.”
“Well, I’ll bet that a couple of double Scotches will have you dancing on the table before the evening’s over.”
“A couple of double Scotches will have me dancing under the table.” The woman seated next to Zoey raised her eyebrows at the comment. “Speaking of which... Would you care for something from the bar?” Daniel stared directly into Zoey’s eyes, purposely averting his eyes from the plunge in her neckline. It was a nice dress. Golden. Formal. Glittery. It looked good against his black tux, looked so much better than her everyday work clothes, which was the only thing he’d ever seen her wear. But her dress tonight was a little more revealing than he dared think about. Temptations like that weren’t on his agenda. Not for the night. Not for the near future. And it was too soon to be admiring anything so tempting. “I’ll be glad to go get you something. A glass of wine? Maybe a mixed cocktail of some sort? Or a double Scotch?”
“I like wine, but not well enough to have you brave the bar mob. Or to risk you slipping out the side door when you have to walk by it.” She looked over at the horde of people still mingling around the bar. “You did intend on coming back to the table, didn’t you? Or were you going to use an errand of mercy as your excuse to leave?”
“I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch. You’re going to need that drink to brace yourself for the long evening ahead.”
“See, you’re spoiling this whole affair for me. I was looking forward to the evening, but you’re bringing me down with your negative attitude.” She tossed him a demure smile. “Elizabeth told me you hate black-tie affairs.”
“‘Hate’ is putting it mildly. Want me to explain how much I hate them?”
Zoey laughed. “I think you’ve already done that. Which leaves me to ask you if you’ve got a diagnosed antisocial condition?”
“Nope. No formal diagnosis. But a lot of opinion on the subject.” He smiled. “Starting with my parents and moving all the way forward to Elizabeth.”
“And you’ve always been this way? You know, crowd-hater?”
“I don’t hate crowds. I just avoid them when I can.”
“OK, then. Let’s try ‘stand-offish’.”
“It’s not so much about being stand-offish as it is being a loner. I don’t need a lot of people around me.”
“See, I’m just the opposite. I love affairs such as this one, and big crowds, and being with a group of strangers who could turn into potential friends. I’m so isolated in my work that getting out is a nice change for me.”
“You don’t date?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he frowned and shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business and it was too personal.”
“It was personal. But I don’t mind you asking, because my past isn’t exactly a secret. No, I don’t really date right now. Haven’t found anyone who interests me enough to put myself out for him. And, overall, I’m not very trusting of men in general because I was married and divorced, once upon a time, and the whole situation left me nervous about trying it again.”
“It was a bad marriage?”
“Almost from the start. Which, of course, I didn’t see because I was too busy looking through the eyes of love rather than seeing what was really happening around me.”
“Consequentially, you don’t date?”
“Not that I wouldn’t date someone, if he was the right one. But after I had the wrong one...” She shrugged. “It’s left me more cautious than I probably should be.”
“So how long were you married?”
“A grand total of nine months. Six of which were long and difficult.” She took a sip of water. “He was a third-year resident who was badly in need of someone to finance his education and lifestyle. I’d just earned my doctorate in nursing so I suppose I looked like a likely candidate to him. We married fast, and divorced just as fast. And in the few months we were together he never stopped looking for his next conquest—someone with deeper pockets than mine were.”
“But were you in love?”
“Totally. For about a minute. Then I finally saw the real man behind the facade and the rest, as they say, was history.”
“Did it break your heart when it didn’t work out?”
She frowned slightly. “More like, it broke my stride. Made me jittery to try again.”
“Because you’re afraid of getting hurt?”
“Because what I’ve discovered is that, when it comes to relationships, I don’t have a clue. I made a bad mistake once and I don’t trust myself not to do it again.”
“Aren’t you being a little too hard on yourself?”
Zoey shook her head. “Better hard on myself right now than divorced another time later on.”
Daniel looked up as a tall, gawky man in a red-and-black plaid tuxedo jacket took a seat in one of the two upturned chairs, finally filling up the table. “I’m Stan Kramer,” he said, more to the air than to Daniel and Zoey. “I work in account receivables. I’m a section manager.”
Daniel extended the courtesy of introducing himself and Zoey to Stan, then he fixed his eyes on Stan’s gigantic Adam’s apple as it bobbled up and down while he gulped his cocktail. After the initial introduction, Stan made no attempt to converse any further.
After the table finally filled up, the people there began to whisper amongst themselves and, for the most part, they turned into a pleasant, chatty group. Daniel did have to admit that it was nice to be around a bunch of people who weren’t patients and who didn’t want something from him. Although, mostly, he contented himself listening to the conversations of others, only participating when someone intentionally drew him in.
“You’re not enjoying yourself,” Zoey whispered in his ear. It was a statement, not a question.
“Actually, this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“But you’re so quiet.” She bent to the left as the waiter set a plate down in front of her—chicken cordon bleu, asparagus and balsamic tomato salad.