Chapter 8
Imiss you.Why couldn’t she stop thinking about those words? Three days later and that call was pretty much the only thing on her mind. His voice invaded her dreams and those words woke her from a dead sleep as if he’d whispered them in her ear while she lay in her bed.
If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he’d made a deal with every radio station in the country because every single one of them seemed to be playing his songs on repeat. She’d switched over to the news station to get away from it and she hated listening to the news.
“Rowan?”
She stopped and walked backward to the reception area where Rosie, their receptionist, stood with her hand over the phone receiver.
“Cancellation or last-minute appointment?” she asked.
“Neither. It’s your dad. He said he tried your cell phone, but you weren’t answering,” Rosie said.
Her dad? He never called her at work. “It’s in my locker,” she explained, taking the phone. “Dad? What’s wrong?”
“Rowan…your mom’s in the hospital.”
She blinked and groped blindly for Rosie’s chair, sitting heavily when she finally found it. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“She’d been having some stomach pain the past week or so. You know how she is…she’s worse about going to the doctor than I am.” He laughed softly.
“Dad—what’swrong?”
“They, uh….” She heard him swallow hard. “They found a mass. On one of her ovaries. She’s scheduled for a biopsy in the morning, but they think—they think it might be cancer.” He barely managed to say the last word.
“Shit,” she whispered harshly. So many thoughts rushed through her head. Her work schedule. The wedding. She needed to call Michael. How quickly could she get a flight out? Did she have time to go home and pack a bag first? She had some gym clothes in her locker—she could always take those with her and borrow clothes from Adalynn when she got home.
Joyce Hill, the owner of the clinic, knelt beside her chair and rested a hand on her knee. Rosie must have gotten her.
“Let me make some arrangements and I’ll be home as soon as I can,” she told her dad. Joyce nodded her head.
“No, honey. I only called so you would know. You don’t need to come home. I’m sure you’re knee-deep in wedding prep—”
“Dad. I’m coming home. Send me the information for the hospital, okay?”
“Okay. If—Okay. I’ll have Adalynn send it to you. Let us know when your flight arrives.”
“I will. I need to go so I can make reservations. I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, pumpkin.”
Rowan replaced the handset in the cradle and exhaled harshly.
“What do you need?” Joyce asked.
“They found a mass. My mom—” She broke off and blew out another breath, futilely blinking back tears. They might not always see eye-to-eye, but this was her mom.
“Cancer?” Joyce asked.
She shook her head. “They don’t know. They’re doing a biopsy tomorrow. I’d like to be there.”
“Of course.” Joyce stood. “Rosie, reschedule Rowan’s appointments for the rest of the week. Book them over lunch or after hours if you have to. I’ll open my schedule and tell Johnathan to do the same to make sure everyone is taken care of.”
Rowan’s stomach dropped. “Dr. J, I don’t have any more leave—I scheduled it for my honeymoon.”
Her boss turned around, setting her hands on her hips, and looked down her nose. Rowan squirmed, feeling as if she’d been caught doing something that would get her grounded. Fighting the urge to confess to something—anything—she clasped her hands together.
“Rowan—this is a family dentistry. Which means we take care of family. Go do what you need to do and take care ofyours. We’ll figure out your hours when you get back.”
