Devoted: Emerson Falls, Book 5 (Emerson Falls Series) Page 3

  “So what brought you into town, man? I haven’t seen you in years.” Cooper reaches for his drink as I take a sip of my own before answering.

  I contemplate my answer for a few seconds, knowing I’m not ready to reveal the entire truth as to why I returned. “I actually just moved back last week. I wanted to be closer to my mom, you know. She’s getting up there in age. But I’m actually gonna be working at the hospital.”

  “No shit. I remember hearing through the grapevine that you went to med school,” Cooper adds.

  “Yeah. I finished up at UC, Santa Barbara a few years ago and finished my residency out there in California before I got a job. But it was time to come home.” Not that I had much of a choice because the second my mother called me I knew that’s what I would do.

  “What’s your specialty?” Cash asks, leaning forward in his chair.

  “I’m an ER doctor.”

  His eyebrows pop up. “Small world. My fiancé is actually an ER nurse over at Emerson Memorial, so you’ll probably meet her at some point.”

  “Nice. Yeah, I start next Monday,” I explain. “I have few things to get situated before I can officially get on the schedule. What’s your fiancé’s name?”

  “Piper Davis,” Cash answers proudly. Clearly, he’s enamored with her.

  “Well, I’ll be sure to introduce myself and tell her we already met.” I give him a nod and then Cooper pulls my attention back to him.

  “We actually know another nurse that works in the ER too. Her name is Jess.”

  Jess. Ah, so my fiery little line-companion is an ER nurse—the perfect explanation for her long shift. I caught her name on her badge as she was waiting in line and when the barista called it out, but I wasn’t sure what department she was in.

  “Clearly you all surround yourself with some intelligent women,” I say nonchalantly, keeping the fact that I already crossed paths with her to myself.

  “Damn right. My wife is a math teacher. The woman may not be able to remember if she locked the car doors, but she can solve the shit out of some calculus,” Kane jokingly adds while the other guys just shake their heads.

  “What about you?” I throw my chin towards Luke, curious if all of these guys are locked down.

  “Nope. Not seeing anyone. I’m a single dad, so dating is tough,” Luke answers.

  “That and he just hired a smoking hot nanny, so he’s probably pining after her,” Cash interjects as Luke throws him a daggered stare.

  “No. I’m not. I’m not gonna be that guy.”

  I just shrug. “Why not? If she’s the right woman, who cares?” I guess my easy-going demeanor towards dating is warranted since I don’t really date seriously. But I still believe that if two people are right for each other, why does it matter how they get together?

  My job doesn’t necessarily lend me time to dedicate to a relationship though. It’s easier for me to just get what I need from a woman and vice versa than to commit. I’m always honest about it beforehand, but that’s just how I choose to live my life.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” he answers, and I sense there’s far more to this guy’s story than he’s alluding to. Being one who’s also keeping personal details close to the belt, I let him drop it.

  “Well, I hate to meet you all and run, but I have somewhere I need to be.” Standing from the table, I grab my cup as all the men rise as well.

  “It was good to see you, man. Hey, let me get your number so you can come hiking with us or hangout sometime,” Cooper suggests, fishing for his phone from his coat pocket.

  “We also have these lovely brotherly coffee dates,” Cash adds mockingly.

  “Shut up, Cash,” Cooper scolds. “We do meet for coffee occasionally too, so if you’re free, you’re welcome to join.”

  “I appreciate it. It’s nice to see some familiar and new faces in town. I’m here to stay for a while at least, so the company would be nice. My cousin Ethan lives here too, so maybe I’ll get him to tag along as well.” I rattle off my number and Cooper and I exchange contact information. “See you around, guys,” I say as we all shake hands and I move back to the door to exit the coffee shop and head for my car.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway of the house I grew up in, the yard still blossoming with shrubs and flowers, courtesy of my mother’s green thumb. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning in the middle of March in Emerson Falls, Oregon, so of course I find my mother on her porch, watering a few of her flower pots. And if I know her as well as I should, she’ll bring them back inside tonight so they don’t freeze when the temperature drops.

  As I exit the car and close the door, she turns to acknowledge me over her shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite son,” she teases.

  “I’m your only son, so I’d better be the favorite.” I make my way up the driveway, noticing how much greyer her hair has gotten in the past few months. My mother gave up trying to cover the grey years ago and just decided to embrace it. “Getting older is a privilege, not a right,” she’d tell me every time I would complain about something related to my age. Never did I believe that something would threaten the span of her life this harshly.

  It’s funny. I see people on the verge of death every day in my line of work, loved ones desperate for us to save the lives of the people they cherish. I do my best to bring people back to life, or grant them relief when they’re in pain.

  But it’s ironic how I never imagined I’d be the one about to embark on the fight of a lifetime with my own loved one—my mother.

  “We need to get going,” I announce when I arrive at the top of the porch steps, the dark brown paint chipping away beneath my feet. As I assess the house, I realize the place needs work and instantly add it to my list of things to get done now that I’m home.

  “The cancer isn’t going anywhere, Brooks. Give me a minute with my plants, will you?” Her tone is chastising, but I know it’s her way of dealing with her reality. I’m reminding myself not to take it personally.

  “I’m aware, Mom. But Dr. Lexington made this appointment with us as a favor to me. I don’t want to be late and make the wrong impression, especially since I haven’t even started my job yet.” When I called the hospital to check for an open position, a colleague of mine said he knew the head oncologist at Emerson Memorial. Before I even went through my interview, I spoke with Thomas Lexington and explained the situation to him regarding my mother. Once we met, we developed a plan to adhere to in the next few months, and then I secured a job in the ER. This way, I’m as involved in my mother’s care as I can be, needing every ounce of control I can scour in this situation.

  My mother rises from the ground and dusts her hands off on her sweatpants, leaving wet handprints behind. The soft brown eyes I inherited from her peer up at me and she flashes me that motherly grin—the one that tells you everything is going to be okay because it’s coming from your mom, even though you know deep in your bones that neither one of us can anticipate what’s going to happen in the next few months.

  “Let me go change really quick and we’ll be on our way.” My mother enters the house through the screen door as I follow, surveying the living room of my childhood home. Almost everything is the same except for the dark grey couch I bought her for Christmas last year. I couldn’t believe that she still had the same one from when I graduated from high school, and when I sat on it and a spring almost skewered my asshole, I felt it was time for an upgrade.

  Pictures of my adolescence adorn the walls and sit atop furniture placed against the cream-colored walls, and live plants fill in any empty space you can find. My mother has lived alone since I left for college, so apparently her affliction for plants helped fill the void.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she announces when she comes down the hallway, looking comfortable in light blue jeans, brown boots, and a thick brown coat that’s buttoned up to her neck.

  “It’s not snowing outside,” I tease her as we lock up the house and walk back to my
black SUV.

  “I’m aware. But I’ve been unusually cold lately, so better to be prepared.” The sad part is, that will only get worse once her treatment starts.

  When we arrive at the hospital, I guide her inside, heading straight for the oncology department.

  “I’ve never understood how people navigate these places. Every hallway looks the same.” She shakes her head as I hold her hand and lead her through the maze. I felt the same the first time I worked in a hospital during med school for an internship. But after a while, you just get used to it and the entire layout makes sense. Then before you know it, you’re running through the halls like a character in a first-person shooting game, looking over your shoulder every time you make a turn and not thinking twice about which direction to head in next.

  I knock on Dr. Lexington’s door as soon as we arrive. “Come in,” his deep baritone voice calls from the other side. I can feel my hand shaking as I turn the knob and usher my mom through with my hand on the small of her back.

  “Brooks. Nice to see you.”

  “Likewise, Thomas. This is my mother, Vivian Bennet.” My mother reaches forward to shake his hand as he stands from his desk to do the same.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “I wish it were under different circumstances, of course. You’re so attractive. If we were out and about, I’d definitely make a move.” My mother bounces her eyebrows at my colleague, and in that moment, I hide behind my hand—not only because I work here, but because he’s only about ten years older than me.

  “Mom! Please don’t hit on your doctor.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as I take the seat next to her.

  “Why not? I’m dying, Brooks. Might as well say what’s on my mind.” She shrugs indifferently.

  “You’re not dying. We’re fighting, remember?” Latching on to her hand with mine, I feel her pulse in her wrist that touches mine. She’s still alive. She can beat this.

  “Mrs. Bennet—” Thomas starts, but my mother cuts him off.

  “It’s Miss. There hasn’t been a Mr. Bennet in years.” My mother and father divorced when I was five and he took off, never looking back to check on the son he basically abandoned. It’s always been just me and my mom, even more reason why I need her to fight. I can’t lose her. She’s all I have.

  “Okay. How about Vivian, then?”

  She nods. “That’s fine.”

  “Vivian, you realize that the next few months will be crucial to how we move forward with your treatment.”

  “Yes.”

  “There will be chemotherapy and then radiation… you will get very weak and sick. You will want to die.”

  “But she’s going to fight,” I interject.

  “I’m going to fight. But if these rounds don’t work, I’m done, Brooks.” Her eyes find mine with a peaceful gaze, as if she’s already accepted her fate.

  “No, you can’t just accept this, Mom. You have to want to beat it. The mental game is just as important as the physical one…” I squeeze her hand so she can feel my desperation.

  “I know, Brooks. I’m going to fight. But I also know that I’ve lived for fifty-eight years already and have an amazing son to show for that. So if this doesn’t work, I’m okay with that. And you will be okay, too.” Moisture builds in both of our eyes as we stare each other down. But I nod in acceptance, knowing that ultimately, it’s her life, her body—her decision.

  “Okay, you can continue,” I say to Thomas, swallowing hard while still holding my mother’s hand.

  “Vivian… you have inoperable, stage three breast cancer. At this time, surgery is not a viable option. Our best bet is to start chemotherapy as soon as possible, in fact Monday would be best. Are you aware of the potential risks and side effects that can take place with this treatment? Did you read all the literature your other oncologist gave to you?”

  Her head bobs up and down. “Yes. I’m aware.”

  “We have a long road ahead of us, you two. But I’m optimistic that we can shrink this tumor and reduce the amount of cancer in your chest so that an operation will be realistic in the future.”

  My mother and I turn to each other, taking a deep breath at the same time, as if we both know what the next few months is going to look like—nausea, vomiting, doctors’ appointments on what will feel like every minute of the day.

  But this is what I signed up for when I came home—standing by my mother’s side while she stands in the ring, battling through the longest five rounds of any boxing match I’ve ever witnessed.

  This isn’t a fight for entertainment though. No, this is a fight where the only two outcomes are life and death.

  And for the first time since becoming a doctor, I’m the most terrified I’ve ever felt of losing a patient—because this is the first fight where I’m attached to the person wearing the gloves.

  Chapter 3

  Jess

  “Have I told you recently that you’re my best friend?” The smile on Piper’s face as she hands me a coffee from Skye’s says she knows how much I love her.

  “Can’t get through a staff meeting without coffee from Skye’s.” She takes up her spot next to me as we both cross our arms and wait for the hospital chief to arrive so we can start our shift. “Speaking of Skye’s, have you seen that guy again?”

  The flash of my crush’s face filters through my mind. After my run in with the infuriating but lethally attractive man, I filled in my best friend the first chance I got. She seemed to think he must be new in town or was just passing through, given that we tend to see most people that live in Emerson Falls at some point working in the ER. And the way I described him made her hopeful that maybe I’d found a unicorn in our small town, especially given my dating track record.

  After I slept for almost twelve hours, the irritation I felt during our interaction subsided drastically, leaving me with nothing but a deep lust-filled desire to see him again. We barely spoke, but that intense attraction I felt for him is a rare occurrence for me and I wanted to see if it was just a fluke. I’ve been to Skye’s several times in the last week too, hoping to maybe run into him casually and apologize for being so surly that day. But alas, he’s been invisible, like a ghost haunting my mind at night in the filthiest of ways.

  And yet I’m scared that if for some reason I do miraculously find him and we date, that he’ll get what he wants from me and then drop me to find his future wife like the four men that came before him. One tragedy in my life has ignited this cosmic downfall of other aspects of my life, particularly when it comes to love.

  It’s like that movie Good Luck Chuck, except in reverse.

  The vaginal curse—I swear, physicians will study this anomaly in the future, desperate to figure out how one man’s passage through my body leads him down the aisle.

  So if I know what’s good for me, I’d drop it. Yet, each time I picture his face, my body heats up again and reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve had a man casually pass through me, you know?

  “Nope. And it’s probably better this way, so he doesn’t end up a victim of the curse,” I lean over and whisper in her ear as the Chief appears at the front on the hall.

  Piper rolls her eyes before whispering back. “You need to let that go. You are not cursed.”

  “Says the woman who is engaged and happily in love.” I know I sound cynical, but unless it happens to you, you wouldn’t understand. The first time, I chalked it up to bad judgment on my part with Trent at a time in my life where I sought comfort in a man I knew wasn’t good for me. The second time, it must have been a coincidence. But then the third time happened and I searched for Ashton Kutcher in the bushes waiting to surprise me and tell me I’d been Punked. Number four was the last straw, and so I’m convinced now that something is going on in the universe and with my aura.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentleman.” Robert York, chief of medicine at Emerson Memorial, addresses the crowd of nurses and doctors. “It’s nice to see so many of you bright-eyed this morning.”
Sarcastic rebuttals murmur amongst the crowd as Piper and I laugh to ourselves. I don’t know one nurse or doctor who can actually say they’re well-rested.

  “I’m pleased to say that things are going well at Emerson Memorial. In fact, we’re adding a new doctor to our staff in the ER that I think you’ll be honored to work with. Dr. Bennet? If you could come forward, please?” The Chief holds out his hand towards the corner of the hall that I can’t see because of crowding and because I’m short as hell. But as soon as I see the dirty blonde hair peek through the tops of people’s heads and that smile form on his lips when his face comes into view, my mouth drops open on a gasp.

  “Oh my god!” I whisper shout in Piper’s ear, yanking her closer so we can speak between the two of us. “It’s him.”

  “Who?”

  “Everyone, this is Dr. Brooks Bennet, our new ER physician. Brooks has three years’ experience at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital, but was born and raised here in Emerson Falls and just moved back recently. Please give him a warm welcome.” Applause rings out as I lean back into Piper’s side.

  “That’s the coffee guy!”

  Her eyes pop open when she turns to face me. “Seriously? Damn, now I know why you are infatuated with him,” she says before sneaking another peek while he stands next to the Chief who’s rattling on about working as a team and keeping costs down.

  “Right? Ugh, he’s even more gorgeous than I remember,” I whine, saliva pooling in my mouth as I take in his body in blue scrubs. When I saw him at Skye’s that day, I could sense that he was muscular and broad under his clothes and from the way he stood over me. But now with nothing more than flimsy blue fabric draping over his muscles, it’s clear that Brooks is very proportional to his height. His forearms flex as he crosses his arms, watching the Chief as he speaks. His biceps are straining against the cuffs of his shirt, and I’m fairly certain I can see the outline of his pecs through the cotton. And the way he’s standing—calm, collected, confident—I’m afraid he’s even more dangerous to my mind now that I know he can practice medicine. My God… think of the lives we could save together as a team.