Vivie shrugs. “I think you really should become a male model. Your pictures are gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Vivie,” Thomas tells her. “But what should we do with Mom and Dad?”
She turns to her parents and declares, “We’d like an apology and a promise there will be no more April Fool’s pranks ever again.”
Morgan stands up again and heartily declares, “I’m truly sorry.”
Jason joins her. “Me, too.” Then he looks at his son and pleads, “But son, you can’t leave medicine.”
Thomas’s expression shifts to one of victory. “Because I believe you’re sincerely repentant, I accept your apology.” He adds, “There’s only one thing left to say. April Fool’s!”
Morgan nearly collapses in her relief. “It wasalla joke, then?”
“All of it,” Thomas tells her. “I’m sorry I pulled it tonight. I thought it might go over a little better than it did.”
“I love it!” Vivie says running over to Thomas to hug him. “It was brilliant and it made my whole day better!”
A lone tear slides down Morgan’s face when she says, “If it made you happy, honey, then I’m happy, too.”
Thomas’s parents may have played a horrible prank on their kids once upon a time, but the truth is, they are amazing parents. They love their children and they champion them—which was clear with how they took care of Vivie during her crisis.
Jason suddenly starts to laugh. He keeps going until he’s nearly bent in half. He catches his breath several moments later and says, “That really was something, Thomas. I bow to the master.”
“I need another cocktail,” Morgan says. “And maybe some more cheese.”
Thomas’s parents and sister sit back down on the couch and start going through the cross-eyed pirate calendar again. Their enjoyment is contagious. But even so, Thomas isn’t laughing.
Instead, he walks over to me and says, “Finley, I’d like a word.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
THOMAS
There’s no longer any doubt in my mind that Finley is furious with me. And it’s time to find out exactly why. “Will you join me on the porch?” I ask her.
She hems and haws before saying, “I think maybe I should get going.”
“Not yet.” I take her by the hand and physically pull her from the room. I grab a couple of throws as we go. We don’t stop until we reach the porch swing.
Once we’re both seated, she stares at her feet and asks, “What do you want to talk about?”
She can’t be serious. “Why did you do it?” I demand.
“It all worked out, Thomas,” she says like this makes her actions okay.
“It did, but not quite the way I thought it would. Would you like to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
Finley suddenly turns toward me and jabs a pointer finger right into my chest. Then she yells, “You haven’t been at the hospital all week!”
Uh, oh, I’ve been caught. “You know about that, huh?” I should never have lied to her. I hurry to explain, “I wanted to tell you where I was, but I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“Get my hopes up? For what?”
I inhale deeply before telling her, “My old hospital called last week and essentially offered me my dream job.”
“So you quit working at the hospital?” Her eyes start to water. “You’re moving back to New York?”
I reach out to take her hand, but she pulls it away. I wind up holding onto her sweater. “I thought I might try something else first.”
