“Right. We’remuchmore sensible now.” Was she kidding? Being sarcastic? A little while passed. “Unforgettable, huh?” she said, lifting a brow.
I gave a slow nod. “But the truth is, I’m still really…I can’t be counted on for a relationship.”
“I feel like that too. I’m okay with taking things one day at a time. Like, friends.”
“Friends is great.” Wait, no. What just happened? Somehow, our gazes locked. I felt that same inexorable pull, that same exact heat that I felt months ago—hell, a few minutes ago. I wanted to hold her hand. To touch her. And I really wanted to kiss her. So why on earth had I agreed? Friendship was the very last thing on my mind.
Across the nursery, one of the babies let out a long, loud wail. The bright lights flicked on, and Dale rambled in to tend his flock. He was followed by an older woman with shortish, nicely styled gray hair wearing a tweed skirt and jacket.
“Over there, Daria,” Dale said, nodding toward us as he wheeled a baby out to join its mother.
“Thanks, dear.” The woman patted him on the back and walked over to us.
“Are you the social worker?” Ani asked, an edge of concern in her voice. She sat up and held the baby a little closer, a little more protectively.
“I’m Daria,” the woman said, extending her hand. “Yes, I’m a social worker, at least until Monday, when I officially retire. Nice to meet you, Dr. Green.”
I glanced at my watch. “It’s high time you showed up, Mom. It’s after eleven.”
“Busy day. And don’t talk to me like that at work.” She turned her bright green gaze on me.
Ani, eyes wide, looked from my mom to me and back again.
“Mom, this is Ani, our newest pediatrician in town and—a friend of mine.” There, that time I made sure to try and do it right. “Ani, meet Daria Lowenstein. My mother.”
Ani
I tried to process this information: that Dr. Grump had a mother who not only worked at the same hospital as he did, but who was also capable of throwing him shade.
Also, she looked like him, except she was shorter. Like, my height. I felt an instant camaraderie.
Why, oh why had I said the friend thing? He’d said he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and I’d said we could take it slow, and then I had to go and add the friend thing. I guess I was afraid of trying again in general. Or maybe I was afraid of losing him. Even though he’d called me smart, honest, funny, and unforgettable.I wondered if you were real.Wow, Ilovedthat.
Adam’s mother nodded toward me. “Is she the woman from the vacation?”
I blinked, and my heart dropped straight into my stomach. The surprises just kept coming. And so many questions, starting with, What exactly had he told his mother? Also, I was a topic of discussion? And was that good or bad?
Before I got too carried away, I reminded myself that it could simply mean,I met a woman clinging to the edge of sanity and I helped her back onto the cliff.
Adam turned pinker than his mom’s scarlet nail polish. He cleared his throat. “Mom, Ani does shifts in the ER.That’show we know each other.Professionally.”
“You told your mother about me?” I blurted. Because…I couldn’t believe it. And should I be afraid? I could only imagine what he’d said: “I met this woman when we were both miserable. I impulsively slept with her. And here she is!”
Adam was sending his mother stabbing glares. I stood there deriving a lot of pleasure from watching such an unflappable person be…well, very flappable.
He waved off the topic. “Only very briefly.”
His mother said, “He said he met a woman on the plane who had just stopped her wedding, and he was worried about you.”
“Mom.” Adam gave his mother a lethal stare. “You’ve been talking to Brax, haven’t you?”
“Don’t blame him—he mentioned that Ani lives here now. And she’s a doctor.” She turned to me. “I know your mother.”
“Is that right?” I hoped that was a good thing. “I’ll have to tell her that we met. How long have you lived in Oak Bluff?’
“I moved here five years ago because I wanted to retire here. Such a quaint town. This is my final weekend of work. I’ve been a social worker for thirty-five years.”
“Well, congratulations.” I wondered how this homeless baby would complicate her very last weekend here. Then I turned to Adam, “You mom seems very pleasant. Those genes must have skipped you, huh?”
