The Thorntons Book 1: The Nearness of You
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Iris Morland
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Chapter 1
The Thorntons Book 1: The Nearness of You
“James Daniels?”
“It’s Flannigan,” Sara Flannigan said automatically to the nurse before turning to her son James. “Time to go in.”
James shrugged as he continued to play his video game, but he followed his mother into the back of the doctor’s office without any more protest. Six years old and already as stubborn as any adult, Sara reflected with an inward shake of her head. James was the love of her life ever since he’d been placed in her arms—all red and wrinkly and screaming to the heavens.
“Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way,” the nurse said as she got James’s height and weight before ushering them into one of the rooms.
Sara hated the smell of these rooms—antiseptic and cold, the paper on the tables crackling as James would inevitably fidget from boredom. They hadn’t been in a doctor’s office in six months—not since James’s amazing pediatrician in Seattle had told her that her son was healthy, still in remission, and not in need of constant doctor’s visits.
But when she’d felt his swollen lymph nodes in his neck, Sara had made an appointment for him to see a family doctor here in the small town of Fair Haven, where they had moved just two months ago. That doctor hadn’t taken her concerns seriously.
So, now she was here, seeing the best pediatric oncologist in Fair Haven to make certain her son’s cancer hadn’t returned.
“Everything looks good. I’ll let Dr. Thornton know you’re here.” The nurse smiled at James, who continued to play his video game, kicking his heels against the table.
Sara rubbed her hands. She should’ve brought a sweater. Why were doctors’ offices so damn cold? She’d never been in one that didn’t result in her shivering from the blast of air conditioning no matter the time of year.
She told herself that more than likely James’s swollen lymph nodes were nothing. Probably just a cold. His cancer had been in remission for over four years, but she couldn’t stop the memories flooding her all the same. He’d had the same symptoms when he’d been just a toddler, and she’d assumed it had been nothing—until the doctor had told her the tumor had spread to his bones and they were lucky it hadn’t spread to his bone marrow just yet…
“Mrs. Daniels,” Dr. Thornton said as he entered the room.
When Sara looked up from her clenched fists, she had to keep her jaw from dropping open.
This was Dr. Thornton? This gorgeous man, barely in his thirties, with dark hair and deep green eyes?
Sara swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “It’s Flannigan,” Sara replied lamely, completely tongue-tied. She hadn’t had time yet to legally change back to her maiden name after her divorce; thus, she was constantly reminded that she had been married to her cheating ex once upon a time.
But her cheating ex disappeared from her thoughts as she realized that not only was her doctor one of the well-to-do Thorntons of Fair Haven, Washington, but that he didn’t even have the grace to grow up to be fat and ugly, too.
Of course he was a Thornton. She’d read his last name online, but for whatever reason, she’d been so worried about James that she hadn’t put two and two together. That was just her luck, wasn’t it?
Of course he was beautiful. Tall and muscular, he filled out his doctor’s coat too well. She’d known that his father was a doctor, but she hadn’t known that the eldest Thornton had pursued medicine as well.
The entire Thornton family was considered royalty in Fair Haven. Wealthy, beautiful, and talented, their six children had always been the most popular kids in school. While Sara had grown up in a trailer park with her alcoholic mother and angry younger sister, the Thorntons had represented a life she could only imagine in her dreams. To have both parents—successful and healthy—in your life? To drive brand-new cars, attend the best schools, play any sport or take up any after-school activity you wanted without worrying about the expense? Sara had had to give up on playing in band in sixth grade when her mom could no longer make payments on the cheap rental flute she’d gotten Sara to play. She remembered the shiny new flute Lizzie Thornton had gotten that same year, and how Sara had been green with envy.
Dr. Thornton glanced up, and Sara’s reverie was broken. “Flannigan. I know that name. Are you…?”
“Ruth Flannigan’s daughter? Yes, that’s me.”
His expression changed, like he was seeing her for the first time. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was checking her out.
But he turned away, and Sara told herself she was imagining things. As if one of the snobby Thorntons would glance her way! She was all too aware of what they thought about people like her, people who had grown up poor and with an absent father and an alcoholic mother. Dr. Thornton—Harrison Thornton—had been infamous in school for driving a Porsche to school after he’d turned sixteen. Sara remembered getting off the bus at the junior high next door to the high school and seeing that bright red car pull into the school parking lot, Harrison looking like the coolest guy on the planet.
Harrison wasn’t that cool young teenager anymore. Now, he was a self-assured man who exuded confidence in every move he made. Sara couldn’t help but watch him with interest, telling herself she was merely intrigued. She wasn’t attracted to him. She wasn’t thinking about how warm his hand had been when she’d shaken it, or how he could easily be mistaken for some famous actor, with his chiseled good looks, wide shoulders, and imposing stature.
“And you must be James.” Harrison held out his hand to her son, which James took after a moment’s hesitation. “How are you today?”
James shrugged. This had become his favorite gesture as of late. “Fine.”
“His lymph nodes are swollen,” Sara interjected. “He had similar symptoms when he was first diagnosed.”
Harrison nodded, sitting down. He flipped through his chart. “He was diagnosed with neuroblastoma at age twenty-two months, correct? And he’s been in remission…for almost four years?”
“Yes, that’s correct. When he was diagnosed, it had already spread to his left femur.”
Sara could rattle off every symptom, every issue, every diagnosis related to James’s cancer without blinking. She’d fought the disease with only herself to lean on, as her ex-husband had preferred to avoid all of the appointments and doctors’ visits as much as he could. Sara’s world had become cancer, cancer, cancer. When James had finally gone into remission, part of her hadn’t known what to do with herself.
“He hasn’t had any other symptoms?” Harrison scribbled some notes.
“None, although he has a large bruise on his right shin bone that concerns me.”
“Mom, I told you, Travis kicked me when we were playing soccer.” James continued to kick his heels against the table. “I’m fine.”
“You probably are fine, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?” Harrison got up to put on some gloves before beginning his examination. “Have you felt tired at all? Sick to your stomach?”
James shook his head.
“How’s school going?”
“Fine.”
Sara sighed. “He started first grade this past fall. He’s been placed in the gifted program.” She couldn’t help but be proud of that accomplishment. She’d struggled in school, but seeing her boy be at the top of his class already? Her chest swelled with satisfaction.
“Really? That’s great. What do you like to do for fun?” Harrison looked in James’s ears and mouth as he rattled off his usual questions.
“I play soccer. It’s fun, although I get in trouble when I touch the ball with my hands.”
Harrison chuckled, which made a shiver run up Sara’s spine. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? It wasn’t fair.
“I was never very good at soccer,” he admitted. “I prefer basketball. You can touch the ball all you want in basketball.”
James frowned. “Jack Talbert said I was too short to play basketball and that I’ll never grow bigger than I am now.”
“Well, I can tell you that Jack Talbert can’t see the future, but more importantly, one of my best buds isn’t very tall and he’s the best point guard I’ve ever seen.”
James’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really. Being tall is helpful when playing basketball, but there are tons of players out there who play and aren’t seven feet tall.” Harrison winked. “Now, let’s feel these lymph nodes of yours.”
Sara held her breath as he examined her son’s neck. Both nodes had seemed larger than normal when she’d checked them, like oversized rubbery bumps. James had told her they didn’t hurt, which just concerned her more. When he’d been diagnosed, he’d had the same exact symptoms.
She tried to push away the wash of anxiety that filled her belly. If James’s cancer came back, she’d have to quit her job to care for him. When he’d been diagnosed as a toddler, she’d been a stay-at-home mom while Kyle had worked full-time. But she’d just started working as a third-grade teacher here in Fair Haven. How would she support them both if James were sick?
Harrison sat back down to make some notes.
On the edge of her seat, Sara finally blurted, “Well?”
“Based on just the swollen lymph nodes, I’m fairly certain the cancer hasn’t returned,” he replied in a calm voice. “That being said, we want to be sure of these things, so I’m ordering a blood test just in case.”
James let out an annoyed sigh. Sara knew he was beyond tired of needles.
“And if his cancer has returned?” she asked in a tight voice.
“Then we’ll make a plan for treatment. We can do the blood test right here today, and we’ll have results by the end of the week, if not sooner.”
She let out a breath. Her anxiety continued to simmer in her gut, but seeing her boy playing his game and kicking his heels, she had a difficult time believing that he was sick again.
She just prayed she was right.
* * *
Harrison Thornton watched as Sara and her young son were shown to the lab downstairs for the blood drawing.
He hadn’t seen Sara Flannigan since he’d been in high school. If he were honest, he hadn’t thought about her since then. Her family had always been considered trashy by most of the residents of Fair Haven, and although Harrison and his siblings hadn’t actively made her and her sister Megan’s lives difficult, they hadn’t tried to befriend them, either.
Harrison winced inwardly. Guilt swamped him, along with the feeling that he wanted to deny even more—attraction.
He’d known that she’d left Fair Haven after she’d graduated from high school, and he vaguely remembered that she’d married young. He hadn’t known she had a kid, and he’d had no idea that she had returned. He wondered why she’d moved back. He did know that her sister Megan had recently opened a bakery downtown. Perhaps Sara had just wanted to be closer to her mother and sister, especially with James getting older.
Harrison had been a number of years older than her, so they’d never been in the same school building at the same time, except perhaps in elementary school. Fair Haven was small enough that it only had one elementary, junior high, and high school for all of its residents. The junior high and high school even shared the same parking lot, while the elementary school was only a mile away.
For some reason, something else niggled at the back of Harrison’s mind in regard to Sara Flannigan, but he couldn’t think of what it was. There was something else about Sara that he’d heard, but it was so long ago that the memory slipped through his fingers.
Sara Flannigan had grown up into a beautiful young woman, though. Dark-haired, curvy, with light blue eyes, she was exactly the type of woman Harrison would ask out for a drink.
But considering she was now the mother of one of his patients? Definitely no drinks. He had played that game before, and it had ended very badly.
He finished up his notes, trying to get the image of Sara’s face out of his mind. He’d dealt with countless parents as a pediatric oncologist. Half of his training wasn’t dealing with the children’s cancer, but how to prepare and assist the worried parents who had to watch their children suffer. And even worse were the children who didn’t make it. Telling parents that their child wouldn’t recover?
It was the worst part of his job, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Dr. Thornton, can I speak to you a moment?”
Sara stood in the doorway.
“James, go with the nurse to the front office so I can talk to the doctor for a few minutes,” she said to her son, who followed the nurse without protest.
Sara shut the door but didn’t sit down. Wringing her hands, she looked pale and worried. Harrison’s heart went out to her.
“Ms. Flannigan, please sit.” He ushered her to a chair. “Did the blood draw go badly?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, no. James is a trooper about that type of thing. He’s gotten used to it.” Her smile was sad. “When you get poked and prodded and tested starting as a toddler, I think getting blood drawn is the least of your worries as a kid. Mostly he just finds it boring when a nurse struggles to find one of his veins.”
“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t difficult for him.” Harrison took in her expression and asked in a quiet voice, “But what about you? I know this can be just as hard on the parent as on the child.”
Sara wiped at her eyes, laughing a little. “I know you said it’s unlikely to have come back, but I can’t stop remembering that he was just fine when he was diagnosed. When his pediatrician said it could be cancer, I laughed because it seemed so absurd.” She inhaled a deep breath. “But then they said he had cancer and would have to undergo chemotherapy and radiation and…”
Harrison moved his chair closer, touching her hand. Although he’d been trained to deal with parents, for some reason, Sara’s plight touched him more than it usually did. Maybe because he saw how much she adored her son—or maybe it was because he wanted to know more about her as a person. Perhaps his motives were entirely selfish.
“As soon as I receive the results, I’ll contact you,” he assured her. “I can’t say absolutely that his cancer hasn’t returned, but I’m not anxious about the results. Don’t let this ruin your week. Enjoy spending time with James and seeing what a smart, healthy little boy he’s growing up to be.”
“You’re right. I mean, I’ll try my best.” She sniffled. “I was doing all right in the last year. He’s been healthy, but anytime there’s anything that might seem like the cancer has returned, I just spiral. It’s exhausting.”
Harrison realized he hadn’t moved his hand away from hers, but he couldn’t stop himself from squeezing her fingers. When she squeezed back, he felt it in his entire body.
“Have you ever talked to anyone about suffering from PTSD?” At her shocked expression, he explained, “I know most people think PTSD is for soldiers returning from war, but you went through hell. Anyone would be affected by watching their child go through something like cancer.”
Sara moved her hand away from his, gazing off into the distance. “I hadn’t thought about it, but maybe I should. I can’t keep doing this every time James might seem sick. What happens if he breaks a bone or something? I’ll be a basket case the rest of my life.” She laughed, but it was a quivery kind of laugh.
Harrison wished he could hug her. Not because she was gorgeous and clearly devoted to her child, but because she seemed like she needed a hug. But instead of hugging, he said in a reassuring voice, “You’ve done a great job with him, and if, God forbid, his cancer has returned, then I will help you fight it every step of the way. You have my promise.”
Her eyes shone as she looked up at him. “Thank you. Sometimes I feel like the entire world is on my shoulders. Ever since my divorce…” Realizing she was probably saying too much, she stood up and held out her hand. “Thank you again, Dr. Thornton, for all of your help.”
He shook her hand, and he saw in her face the crackle of attraction between them. Her eyes widened. Staring down at her, he couldn’t help but marvel at how red her lips were or how long and dark her eyelashes were.
The door creaked open behind them.
“Mom, you done?” James poked his head in.
Sara jumped. “Oh, James, yes. I’m sorry. Dr. Thornton and I were just talking.” She pulled her hand away.
Harrison nodded at James, who gave him a look that seemed to say, I know what you were thinking about my mom and I don’t like it. But then the look disappeared, and he told himself he’d been imagining it.
“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Flannigan. James, best of luck with soccer. And be sure to try some basketball when you get the chance.”
James nodded before tugging on his mom’s arm. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“Okay, okay. Bye, Dr. Thornton. Thanks again.”
As Harrison watched the pair leave, he had a feeling that he was going to see more of Sara Flannigan one way or another.
