“I hadn’t heard a thing, but most of my gossip channels are hospital-related.”
“Why the sudden interest?” His brother Philip smirked. “Is the most eligible bachelor in Timber Falls ready to settle down?”
Kyle flipped him off by rubbing his eye with his middle finger, and Philip returned the gesture.
“Quit it,” Claire warned, getting up to retrieve her infant daughter from her bedroom down the hall. “He’s six, not an idiot.”
“Can I go play the tablet?” Cooper asked, and Philip nodded.
“Still haven’t heard an answer,” he added, directing a pointed look at Kyle, who’d given up eating altogether.
“It’s not sudden, and you know it.”
“Seems like you missed your chance, bud.”
Kyle worried his lower lip between his fingers. “You think?”
Philip shrugged. “That’s what the six-year-old scuttlebutt would indicate.”
“Who could she even be dating? Wouldn’t we have heard something about it before now? Daniel hasn’t said anything. He keeps tabs on her.” Kyle got to his feet. Pacing would work, pacing would help. He could think better if he was moving. Better to panic while moving than to panic while sitting still.
“Friendship isn’t exactly the same as keeping tabs, but okay.” His brother pointed with his fork. “Internet. Could’ve met him on the internet, I hear that’s the thing now.”
“Okay, Grandpa.”
Philip threw his arms out. “I’m practically a millennial!”
“No, you’re not.” He paused. “You don’t think she’s back with Dean, do you?”
“Dean moved to Portland.”
“Dean belongs in Portland.”
“Yes, Dean does belong in Portland. Weirdo.”
“Remember when he dyed his hair black?”
“Weirdo.”
“Who’s a weirdo?” asked Claire, flopping back down at the table with Hannah in her arms.
“Dean Hoppsteader.”
“Didn’t he move to Portland?” Claire picked up her fork to resume eating, but Hannah couldn’t stay latched. Her high-pitched cries tugged at Kyle’s heartstrings, but he tried not to let it show. Infant cries were one of the few things that made him teary if he was already on edge.
He coughed, pivoting to give Claire some privacy as she tried to adjust her hold on Hannah. “We have lactation consultants at the hospital, you know.”
Claire snorted. “I don’t need a lactation consultant.”
“I’m just saying. If you did, we have them.”
His sister-in-law enunciated her words patronizingly. “I have done this before with Coop. I don’t need a lactation consultant; they’re the same breasts I had then.”
“But not the same baby,” her husband added gently, reaching over to rub her back.
“Don’t touch,” Claire said without looking up, still trying to get Hannah to latch, and Kyle felt momentary sympathy for his brother.
“I’ve got to get to work. Thanks for dinner, Claire.”
“Thanks for picking up Cooper, Kyle. I should be able to do it myself soon, I’ve just been so exhausted, and Hannah’s still nursing a lot . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving her off. “I don’t mind.” He paused at the threshold of the open front door. “Also, Ainsley caught him peeing on a tree at school. Bye.” Kyle shut the door behind him before he could hear their reaction. He felt only slightly guilty for throwing Coop under the bus, since he had given him the idea.
He whipped out his phone as he got in the car. Daniel. His brother would know, he’d been best friends with her since middle school.
Kyle: Is Ainsley engaged?
Daniel: Don’t think so. Why?
Kyle: Heard a rumor.
Daniel: Pretty sure she would’ve told me or Winnie . . .
Kyle: Probably just a rumor.
Kyle: Don’t tell her I said anything.
Daniel: But come to think of it, she has been on a few dates with some guy she met on an app, so I could be wrong.
So maybe it is true. That was upsetting for two reasons: she’d been dating someone, and she’d debased herself by using one of those terrible apps. He appreciated Daniel’s insights into the situation, even though he was annoyed with him in general right now. It felt like every time he came home and wanted to chill in his own living room, his brother and his brother’s fiancée had beaten him to it. At least he was working nights now; the house was quieter during the day. Kyle liked quiet. Kyle missed quiet. He didn’t regret letting Daniel move into his house, but he could be a little . . .
“A little much,” Kyle grumbled aloud as he started his car.
CHAPTER THREE
KYLE WAS BURNING THROUGH the crowd of patients in the waiting room today. He’d already seen a little girl with a high fever, sewn up an accidental hacksaw injury, removed a Lego from a preschooler’s nostril, and sent a woman coughing up blood to get a CT scan, and it was only nine in the morning.
“What’s next?”
Trevor Harper, his favorite nurse, had the next patient ready for him. “Possible broken wrist. She fell off a chair.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. All other vitals were normal. Exam room 3.”
“Thank you.” Kyle knocked on the door.
“Come in.” It sounded like a man’s voice that answered him. He half wished they still used paper charts; at least then he could check and make sure he was getting the patient’s gender right. He opened the door. A woman in her early fifties with honey-blonde hair sat on the exam table, her legs swaying as she kicked her feet. She cradled her right arm against her chest. A young man with the same shade of hair stood anxiously next to the exam table.
“Mrs. Carpenter?”
She turned her head to look at him, but didn’t answer. Her body language was stiff; she clearly didn’t recognize him. Given that his mother had known her for years, her aloof gaze surprised him.
“Mom,” the man nudged. “Say hello to the doctor.” He turned to Kyle, clearly frustrated. “I’m sorry, she seems to be a little . . . out of it, at the moment.”
Kyle’s mind started cranking. Maybe there was more to this than met the eye?
“That’s all right. Crash, right? Kyle Durand.” Kyle offered his hand, and the man shook it firmly. That wasn’t the man’s real name; he’d been in some kind of reckless aircraft incident that had earned him the nickname years ago.
“Yes, I remember you and your family. How are you?”
“Better than you, sounds like. Were you with your mother when she fell?” Kyle sat down and opened her chart on the screen.
“No, the household staff called me. I was at work.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Kyle noticed he was sweating right through his Brooks Brothers dress shirt. He scanned her file: no history of cancer, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, surgeries of any kind . . .
“Sorry, is this correct? This paperwork?”
Crash reddened. “I don’t know. She filled out some of it, but she’s been pretty confused.”