The Nurse and the Single Dad
Author
Dianne Drake
Reads
18.8K
Chapters
12
Chapter One
COFFEE. BLACK AND HOT and lots of it—his every-morning indulgence. It was one of the few things in life he could count on with any regularity. Something he looked forward to.
Daniel Caldwell took a sip of his coffee, sat the thick paper cup back on the round tabletop and then spread the latest edition of the local Seattle newspaper out in front of him. An article outlining the latest in fluctuating oil prices caught his attention so he settled into his straight-backed chair to read it. One article was about all he ever had time for, given that he only allowed himself half an hour of “me” time on his way to work every morning. The rest of his day was filled with hospital duties or the duties of being a single father to an active, growing three-year-old daughter who was always ready to grab his attention.
It was a busy life, a very hectic life sometimes, but this daily half hour at the coffee shop made him feel more human. He liked mixing and mingling with other people for that little while, even though he really didn’t have the time, at this point in his life, to socialize. It was nice being around others who had no expectations of him. In his own personal scheme of things, that was a rarity.
Daniel took another sip of coffee and read that the oil experts expected a continued fluctuation in oil prices well into the foreseeable future. Not that it mattered much to him. He drove an economical little car that couple of miles to work every day and, like that grandmother-type driver who typically took the car out only to go to the grocery store, he didn’t do much other driving. At least not during the week. On his days off, though, he tried to take Maddie to the park or down to the pier. She liked to throw bits of bread to the seagulls and watch the people fish off the docks.
Daniel glanced at his watch, regretting that his half hour was passing so quickly, but fifteen minutes of it were now over with. So he took another gulp of coffee and casually glanced at the shop’s door as the bells mounted above it tinkled a merry welcome to the woman pushing the door open and entering.
She was attractive. More than attractive, she was a beauty. Elegant and understated in a pair of navy-blue scrubs. Had he seen her at the hospital before?
Looking away as quickly as he’d glanced at the door, Daniel didn’t want to get caught gawking as she made her way through the tiny tables for two and headed straight to the serving counter. But once her back was to him he looked at her again. Did he know her? She seemed familiar. Same curvy frame, same confident carriage. No, it couldn’t be. On second thought, maybe... But her hair was lighter—a nice honey-blond now, which suited her fair complexion—and it wasn’t pulled back into a tight little bun at the nape of her neck, but rather it was flowing freely to her shoulders, giving her an oddly feminine look. It was nice. Oh, and the glasses were missing. Zoey always wore oversized black-framed glasses that gobbled up most of the top half of her face. They weren’t becoming on her, nor were they unbecoming. Rather, they’d been a matter-of-fact statement that she simply liked to conceal her beautiful face beneath plastic.
Zoey. One thing was for sure. He’d never expected to run into her. Never wanted to, actually. So should he approach her? Be polite and ask her how she was doing? Daniel thought about it for a moment as he watched her interact with the barista, a young man of about twenty who was sporting waist-length dreadlocks and a killer smile. He noticed that she tilted her head slightly to the right as she laughed at something the barista was saying. She was so upbeat. But then, Zoey had always been upbeat during her several weeks with Elizabeth, and that was one of the things he’d admired about her.
That, and her nursing skills. Exemplary nursing skills, in his opinion. Especially since she was doing a very tough job—one he personally wouldn’t want to do himself. He remembered how she was always so optimistic about her work.
Daniel knew that Zoey’s outlook had been a great comfort to Elizabeth during her final days, and for that he’d be eternally grateful. She’d made Elizabeth smile and laugh.
This woman at the serving counter now had the same melodic laugh he remembered. A laugh he’d come to count on during some very rough times. He could hear it ring out over the low drone of the background chattering in the shop, and it was still as infectious as ever. Made him smile just hearing it.
It caught Daniel off-guard when Zoey spun around to face him, coffee in hand. She turned back to the counter for a moment to tuck a tip into the jar sitting next to the cash register, then looked straight at Daniel—who glanced immediately back down at his newspaper, realizing that in the past several minutes he’d managed to read only one sentence.
He purposely kept his eyes down as she started walking in his direction, not sure how, or if he wanted, to greet her. Damn, she was a reminder of bad, bad times. Times he wanted to forget but couldn’t, as they still haunted him a year later. Even so, as she brushed by his table, he forced himself to look up and smile. Her smile was returned through a pair of the most hauntingly stunning blue eyes he’d ever seen. Damn it to hell, he didn’t know what to do now.
“Daniel?” she said, pausing briefly, her lips curling into a friendly smile.
“Zoey?” he returned. “Zoey Evans?”
She nodded. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“A year.” One long, lonely year since Elizabeth’s death.
“So, how are you doing?” she asked.
“Pretty well. Working and taking care of Maddie... That’s about all I have time for.”
“I’ll bet being a single father isn’t easy. I’m assuming that you’re still single?”
“Still single,” he said, pointing to the chair across from him as he rose to his feet. “Care to join me for a few minutes?” He glanced at his watch. “I have about seven before I have to head out to the hospital.”
She frowned for a moment, then gradually nodded her head. “That’s about all I have, too. I have a patient to see near here this morning, and I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”
He thought back to all the appointments she’d had with Elizabeth and she’d never been late. Not even by a minute or two. “You always were punctual,” he said as he pulled the chair out for her then watched the graceful way she slid down into it.
“And you were always running behind.”
“Not anymore. I’ve changed my evil ways.”
Zoey smiled at him and sat her espresso down on the table. “Always being late bothered Elizabeth, you know. She said she could set the clock by your tardiness.”
He hadn’t talked about Elizabeth in so long... Not out loud, anyway. Although, she was always in his thoughts. But actually to talk about her to someone... The wound she left still cut deep and he was always afraid that it would open and bleed again. He’d gotten along without her this past year and it hadn’t been easy, never easy, because he missed her so much that there were still remnants of a physical pain lingering. There hadn’t been a day gone by that he didn’t look at her picture, talk to her, reminisce...
But actually to talk aloud about her... Never. Not even to Abby, Elizabeth’s mother. She watched Maddie while he was at work and there had arisen this unspoken rule between them that Elizabeth’s name was not to be uttered out loud.
“I knew she hated being late, hated me being late. She used to fuss at me for it. I think it was one of the few things we ever really fought about. But I don’t do that anymore, and I’ve got to tell you that being on time is difficult when you don’t have someone behind you to push you into it.”
Zoey took a sip of her espresso and looked over the top of her cup at him. “She was happy in her marriage. She talked about that a lot.”
“So was I. Five years wasn’t long enough.” Future plans they’d made had been cut short by a voracious leukemia. It was the kind of thing no one ever planned for, let alone considered within the realm of possibilities. But Elizabeth had been diagnosed and three months later...
“They were five good years, though, and just think! You have Maddie. How is she, by the way?”
“She’s resilient. Staying with Elizabeth’s mom while I’m working. Being quite the handful most of the time. Lots of opinion. Lots of attitude.”
“She’s about three now, isn’t she? The last time I saw her she was barely more than a baby, and I probably wouldn’t even recognize her now. They do grow up fast, don’t they?”
He gulped down the last of his coffee. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said as he folded his newspaper with the intention of taking it back to work with him. He did that every morning, although he never read it, and usually tossed it away as soon as he was in his office. “Grammy overindulges her, though, and I’m afraid that’s contributing to some of her thinking. She throws tantrums and threatens to go live with her grandma if I don’t do what she wants.”
“Tantrums?” Zoey asked. “Why?”
Daniel grimaced. “It’s difficult for her, going back and forth between her grandmother and me. She’s so young, and her life is so...unsettled. I’m not sure she knows what to count on.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I mean, the poor child can’t even count on seeing me every night because I can’t count on getting home every night. It’s like so much of life is up in the air and there’s nothing I can do to change that. Not for either of us.”
“Then be patient with her,” Zoey said. “She sounds very confused, and I’m sorry to hear that because, from what I remember of Maddie, she was a very sweet child.”
“I know she’s confused. So I’m crossing my fingers and hoping she’ll get through the tantrum stage without it leaving any permanent scars.”
“We all express ourselves in different ways, Daniel. I expect that Maddie’s expressing her confusion the only way she knows how. And I doubt that it will leave scars. Even at three, Maddie’s on her own journey, and this is simply part of it.”
“I know that, and I do understand what she’s going through, but that doesn’t make it any easier on me. And the way Abby spoils her...” He shook his head. “It gets in the way; I think Maddie believes that everyone should treat her the way her grandmother does.”
Zoey smiled. “Aren’t grandmothers supposed to spoil their grandchildren? I always thought that was a God-given right.”
“But Abby goes to the extreme.”
“Or you’re just being overly sensitive to the only way she knows how to express her love. We all do it differently, you know.”
“Maybe that’s the case, because I know she means well. And she loves Maddie. In fact, when it gets right down to it, she’s a wonderful grandmother. But Elizabeth and I talked for hours one night about our hopes and dreams for our daughter, and the way I would raise her once Elizabeth was gone, and it wasn’t by spoiling her the way Abby does. Elizabeth desperately wanted Maddie to grow up strong and independent.”
“I know you’ll take care of Maddie, but I want you to take care of yourself, too. Go on with your life, Daniel. Have fun. Be happy. Find someone to start over with. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Yes, they’d made plans together, but Elizabeth’s plan for him was so difficult.
“Well, I’m sure things will work out in your favor, given enough time. Oh, and maturity on Maddie’s part. I’m confident she will eventually grow out of it.”
Daniel sighed heavily. He knew Abby was trying to replace Elizabeth with Maddie, which was why he hadn’t said anything to her, as Abby’s loss was truly as great as his own. “I’d originally thought about putting Maddie in daycare at the hospital. But I’m a firm believer in family first, and I think Maddie can benefit from her grandmother, if her grandmother eases up a little.”
“Then talk to her, Daniel. Be honest and don’t hold back anything. That’s the only fair thing to do for everybody involved. I mean, I met Abby a few times. She’s a strong lady. Very opinionated. And she dearly loves her granddaughter, which is why I know she’ll listen to you.”
“I hope so, because I think it’s good for both of them to be together, especially now, when the wounds are still so close to the surface.”
“Like I said—have that talk. It will do you both some good.”
“I will. And thanks for the advice. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while and this has been...pleasant.” He smiled, and pushed back from the table. “Look, I’ve got to go. I have three residents and five med students waiting to do rounds with me this morning, then I’ve got a meeting at nine and at least a dozen patients to see, not to mention reading charts, revising orders, et cetera, et cetera...”
“I take it you’re still a hospitalist?”
“Still and always. Private practice isn’t my thing. It’s too confining. I like the variety you get working general duty in a hospital. It keeps you on your toes, and you never get bored.”
“Then private practice bores you?”
“Can’t say one way or another, since I’ve never been in one. But I can’t imagine myself contained for very long in one office. The case work may vary patient by patient but I think that overall it would be too restrictive for me. No, I like the open spaces of the hospital, where I’m free to wander at will.”
“At will?”
“OK. Maybe not at will so much as what the caseload dictates.” He chuckled. “And it dictates pretty loudly sometimes. So, do you get over to the hospital very often?”
“Not really. Even though I work for the hospital, I’m based out of an office across the street, and I only go over there maybe twice a week. And then it’s in and out as quickly as I can. Hospitals aren’t my strong suit.”
“Why not?”
“Well, you like the big, open spaces of them, while I prefer to practice my nursing in a more intimate setting.”
“Which is why you’re in home care.”
“I love home care. Home is where my patients are the happiest.”
“But hospice nursing? That’s tough.”
“And rewarding. I started doing it when I was working on my graduate degree because the hours worked with my school schedule, discovered I loved it, and I’ve never found a reason to change to any other kind of nursing specialty.”
“Like I say, tough work. Losing a patient is never easy but to lose every single one of them?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? I like giving support and care at the end. It’s important work and most people aren’t cut out to do it. I happen to be one of those who is.”
“So, we’re both happy where we are.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “We ought to do coffee again sometime. It was...nice.”
“I would, but I don’t wander into this neighborhood at this time of day unless the circumstances call for it. Mrs. Barrow, the lady I’ll be seeing this morning, is an everyday after-lunch call, but I had to move her up today due to a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. And this little coffee shop was right on the way to her house. Except for today, I usually stop here around noon or one.”
“So we miss each other by roughly six hours on a normal day.”
“Apparently we do.”
“Well, maybe I’ll pop in at noon sometime.”
“And maybe I’ll be here.”
Daniel stepped away from the table. “I’ve really got to be going now, so thanks for the company. It was nice bumping into you again.”
“Thank you.”
They parted company and Daniel didn’t look back at the beauty who remained sitting at the table sipping her espresso. At least, not until he was outside. Then he looked back in through the plate-glass window and watched her for a moment. In all the weeks she’d come to his house to care for Elizabeth, he couldn’t remember ever having had a real conversation with her about anything other than Elizabeth.
Turned out Zoey Evans was nice to chat with. And so easy. He was surprised by the ease he’d felt in talking to her. In fact, he wouldn’t mind bumping into her again. It would have to be another coincidence, though, as he wasn’t at a place in his life where he could go out of the way to expand his relationship horizons. Right now, everything was too complicated. But the prospect of seeing Zoey again, well, that almost excited him. It made him feel guilty, too, because it felt like his excitement to see Zoey was betraying Elizabeth. And he didn’t want to feel that way when he was trying hard to push himself forward in his life.
* * *
Daniel Caldwell. It had been a year since she’d last seen him and what a difference that year had made. He’d been so gaunt back then, taking care of his wife and child, as well as maintaining his position at the hospital. Burning his candle at more ends than a candle had to burn. The stress of that time had certainly taken its toll on Daniel and, if it hadn’t shown in the thinness of his face, it did show in the haunting, distant look she always saw in his eyes. It was a difficult time for him and she understood the toll it had taken. She’d seen it before in the families of other patients.
Yet, Daniel was different than most. He internalized his tragedy more than many people did. At least, the ones she’d come into contact with. And he’d always made sure that everyone around him was taken care of first, before his own needs were met. Even her. Zoey recalled how he’d always put on a fresh pot of coffee for her, something that had been totally unnecessary, but welcomed. She’d told him she could make her own coffee, but he wouldn’t hear of that, insisting that every little effort helped the cause, which in Daniel’s case had been his wife.
He’d been right about that, as the more Elizabeth had progressed into her illness the more help she’d needed, which meant the less time Zoey had had to attend to the little things. Back then, she’d truly appreciated the kindness in a simple cup of coffee.
More than that, she’d appreciated Daniel’s devotion to Elizabeth. A lot of people turned away in the last moments, trying to avoid the inevitable. Oh, they might be there in the flesh, but the rest of them would tune out. Not Daniel, though. He’d stayed right in there until the end, doing whatever he could do to help his wife, and also to help her.
Zoey admired that, wishing that she could have seen what appeared to her as the ideal marriage at a different point in time. It was hard for her to imagine someone being that happy in a relationship. She’d never been, and somewhere along the line she’d quit holding out the hope that it could ever happen for her. Her own failure at marriage had really knocked her off her game. Caused her to lack confidence in herself when it came to maintaining other relationships. Truth was, she wasn’t sure she could do that again. At least, not with the same enthusiasm she’d had for her first marriage, tragedy that it was.
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.
