Siobhan's Beat (6 page)

Aileen's sparkling eyes tagged Siobhan's briefly as she brought the car to a stop at a traffic light. “Pick-me-up? You
wish.
I intend to grill you mercilessly until you tell us all about that wonderful Doctor Cooper. I've never seen you so flustered around a man before. And just now, you actually went all tongue-tied about him. I think that's precious.”

Maeve and Kassidy giggled. Siobhan's jaw dropped and she shot Aileen what she hoped was a blood-curdling glower. “Y'know, Ailee, I won't be incapacitated forever. Eventually I'll build up enough strength to flatten you.”

Aileen's twinkling laughter filled the car. “Good luck with that.”

Siobhan slid her chilly hands into the pockets of her tan, wool coat. Her fingers closed around an item tucked inside—a simple white business card detailing an upcoming appointment. One week from today. At one o'clock in the afternoon. At the offices of Dr. AJ Cooper on Fourth Avenue. Withdrawing the reminder, she touched the raised lettering and wondered. What did AJ stand for? Would it be inappropriate to ask? Would doing so seem pushy or star-struck?

Like she had a crush or something?

“So sorry to interrupt your daydreams, Siobhan, but we've arrived.”

Siobhan's head snapped up. A betraying flood of heat bloomed against her cheeks, blast it all. Aileen's quirked lips featured just a bit too much satisfaction for Siobhan's taste. It didn't help matters any that her friend homed in on the appointment card.

“Interesting reading material?”

Following Aileen's query, Siobhan caught the meaningful glances that passed between Kassidy and Maeve. Siobhan was busted and bruised, but she most certainly wasn't clueless to their intrigue. Aileen maneuvered the car beneath a quaint pink and white canopy. “Door service, ladies. Hop out. I'll park and be right in.”

Soothing ocean sounds and soft harp music filled the air upon entering Bella Angelo Spa. Warmth swept across Siobhan's skin. Oh, how she needed this. Before long she settled into an oversized leather chair. Her hands were put to soak, as was her uninjured right foot. Glasses of orange juice and veggie snacks materialized as attendants went to work on primps and polish.

“So we've caught up on KC's love life. We know Siobhan blushes and gets all squiggly about her doctor. It's your turn, Maeve. What's new in your romantic life?”

Maeve goggled. “Is it just me, or is Ailee becoming a tad smug now that she sports an engagement ring?”

Hoots of agreement erupted amongst the foursome.

“You're not off the hook, you know,” Maeve said. “Sure, no one will be asking you about who you're dating, but I predict, here and now, that you won't have a wedding band on your finger for a
day
before folks start asking when you'll present the world with a brand new little Douglas cherub.”

Siobhan jumped right on that band wagon. “I never thought of it that way! I could be an auntie in a year!”

Aileen groaned and her skin went from a two to a solid ten on the pink meter. “Not likely since Liam and I haven't even set a date yet.”

“Why not?” Siobhan blurted the question without really thinking. Instantly she regretted the words. Of course the delay was because of her and the accident. Along with the tour schedule quandry and recording contract drama, everything was thrown into uncertainty now, simply because the way her life had struck ice and swirled out of control.

Aileen gave Siobhan a tender-hearted, loving look. “Because we've had far more important matters to consider.”

The words set a clamp on Siobhan's heart. Never again did she intend to sit behind the driver's wheel of an automobile. Unreasonable, perhaps, but she'd find a way. Driving was off the list. Permanently.

Siobhan focused on Aileen as she absorbed the accompanying round of playful chatter. The interlude with her friends chased away shadows. Siobhan's heart filled with the kind of easy joy she hadn't experienced since the accident. What she focused on beyond that, however, was the way Maeve had dodged Aileen's question about romance. With cool efficiency, their fiery red-head had switched topics, and even now, Maeve cast her eyes downward, ostensibly to track the manicure process. The motions were a ruse, and Siobhan knew it. She recognized a heart in hiding when she saw it. She speculated about why Maeve might be skittish, but could only come up with one answer: personality. Maeve had always been the more guarded of their ensemble. Quiet and reserved, she didn't reveal much about matters of the heart.

Siobhan's brow puckered while she thought that through, but as usual, conversations skipped along a swerving path. Talk soon turned to the album and tour, which pulled Siobhan far from thoughts of Maeve's reticence.

“Zion's Peak has chosen eleven songs. They're covers of Christian classics we all know, but we need to develop our own interpretation; hopefully the task ahead won't be too daunting.” Aileen tipped her head back and released a sigh when her feet were dipped into a warm whirlpool. “Get this, though—they're even interested in including the song I wrote for Liam, ‘The Story of Us.'”

“Ailee, how wonderful! That piece is incredible.” Kassidy swirled her fingertips through the water receptacle built into the armrest of her chair. “We're facing some serious rehearsal time, ladies.”

Heaviness fell upon Siobhan's chest. She cleared her throat softly and watched her attendant carefully perform a toenail trim and buff—ever mindful of the plaster cast. “Actually, that brings me to a point I'd like to discuss.”

Siobhan's quiet comment might as well have been blared over loudspeakers with HD amplification. At once, silence reigned. At once, three pairs of eyes focused on her. At once, intensity wrapped her in a cord against which she fought.

Breathing deep she decided to take the necessary dive, hating what she was about to do. “Here's the thing. I've got so much to do—with intensive recovery plans, the dance studio and such. Really, this stupid accident of mine couldn't have come at a worse time.”

Aileen and Kassidy scowled. Meanwhile, Maeve centered her gaze on Siobhan. “Meaning what, exactly?”

Her friend's careful, deliberate words didn't diminish Siobhan's commitment to the decision she had made. “Meaning I need to step back from Sisters in Spirit.”

Sizzling lightning bolts, a deep, vibrating roll of thunder, couldn't compete with the triple-threat reaction of her friends.

“What on God's green earth are you talking about, Siobhan?”

Aileen's ominous tone struck against Siobhan's resolve, but walls of doubt stood strong.
Push through
, she thought.
Push through and release your friends to the future…

Forcing her face and posture into calm lines, Siobhan plowed ahead. “I've given the idea considerable thought, and believe me nothing would give me greater joy than being right there with the three of you on stage, but—”

Kassidy gasped, eyes going wide. “There's no
but
here. None whatsoever. Furthermore, you better not even try to say—”

“Please—don't make this more difficult. I've made up my mind. You don't need me. Not really.”

Preparing to launch from her seat, Maeve nearly upended the bubbling aqua-treatment for her feet. Siobhan stayed her friend's reaction by raising her hands. “All of you need to look at the big picture. God has sent us a pretty clear message. You're meant to take the stage by storm. I am as well, but in a completely different way. By teaching. By focusing on my studio. Really, it's for the best.”

A bright, even tone belied the fact that Siobhan's heart shattered with every word she spoke. Still, she doled out an assuring smile and focused intently on the attendant who sat on a stool before her. The manicurist urged Siobhan's hands back into silky, perfectly warmed water perfumed by the scent of roses. That delicate aroma was a lovely counterbalance to the turbulence in her soul.

“What does Doctor Wonderful have to say about this? Did he tell you this would be a wise and necessary course of action?”

Maeve waited on the answer, eyes sharp and narrow.

“His name is Doctor Cooper, and he happens to think I'll be just fine. As do I. The problem is I can't and won't hold the three of you back. My recovery will take time, and there are things you need from me—promptly—that I'm not able to give.”

Speaking that truth aloud, confronting its ugly residue punched Siobhan in the chest and cracked the protective walls she had built in an attempt to survive this moment. She trembled, and her chin quaked as she blinked furiously to keep from crying. She needed to surrender to God's will and move on; her friends needed to do the same.

“That said”—Siobhan expelled a puff of air and lifted her chin when she addressed her manicurist—”I'm opting for the cotton candy pink shade today…the third one from the left on your tray. It'll be perfect.”

“If you think that's the end of this conversation, Siobhan Marie Douglas, you're terribly mistaken.”

Siobhan ignored the icy undercurrent of warning in Aileen's voice. “I've made up my mind. Now, let's celebrate my freedom from medical incarceration and indulge.”

“I'm sorry. Your decision is not accepted at this time. Please try again later.” Maeve put on a robotic voice. She closed her eyes and leaned back, visibly ignoring Siobhan when her specialist went to work on a foot massage. “I have an idea. Let's return to the topic of Doctor Wonderful.”

Curse it all, Maeve,
Siobhan thought.
No way are we returning to the topic of AJ Coop—Doctor Cooper…whatever.

Giddy and warm, Siobhan scrabbled for mental purchase. How could her besties be so blooming stubborn? “I'm decided, so deal with it. And by the way, when did you guys decide to change his name? I think that's just weird.”

Aileen snickered. “Oh, at about the same time you fluttered those disgustingly thick lashes of yours and did the whole, ‘Thank you for everything' swoon when he handed you your release forms. Plus there was that adorable, I've-got-a-crush-on-you way you tried to regain your dignity when he entered the suite during our perfectly fabulous sing-along. You do many things well, Siobhan, but you've never been able to hide your emotions, or your heart.”

Increasingly helpless, Siobhan leaned forward a bit so she could see Aileen. “I was only being nice.”

Aileen snorted.

Siobhan flung out her hands in exasperation which caused her manicurist to back off from the subtle spray of water. After an apologetic glance to her attendant, Siobhan beseeched Maeve and Kassidy. “Neither of you are willing to step in and lend an assist? Seriously?”

“Nope. Sorry.” Maeve studied her now raspberry hued fingernails.

“Nah, not really.” Kassidy wiggled her freshly painted, sparkly purple toes. “I'm good for now.”

“Chickens.” Siobhan's mutter didn't even stir a ripple of regret amongst her friends. Giggling, her manicurist went back to work by drying Siobhan's hands and starting to polish.

Aileen moved just far enough to give Siobhan a tender glance. “You're adorable when you're riled. It happens so seldom. You're perfectly in control, every movement beautifully and wonderfully executed. Every once in a while, though, it's OK to stumble. Especially when there's the potential to fall into a safe pair of arms. Doctor Wonderful or not, it's something to think about, Siobhan.”

 

 

 

 

6

 

Beads of sweat trickled down AJ's temples; perspiration dampened his back, causing his t-shirt to tack to his skin. The racquetball court sang with tennis shoe squeaks as he dodged Mason Schaefer's bang-on shot then lent chase to that evil, miniscule black rubber ball. Slicing his racquet in a swift, level backhand, he crushed the ball with a solid stroke. It ricocheted off the far wall and zipped right past his friend and opponent who spun and struck back with a backhand of his own that left AJ flying to save the point.

As the game progressed, while he literally pounded against a batch of sudden and unexpected uncertainties, AJ took a mental wander through recent events, trying to somehow make sense of his emotions.

At just over six weeks into recovery, Siobhan Douglas continued to haunt him as surely as any angelic specter, and the sensation of being so intrigued by—so attached to—a person he was treating, was unlike anything AJ had ever encountered. He awaited each of her routine checkups as though her visits were as much for his benefit as hers. Never had he been swept onto an emotional field when it came to his patients, but her first few appointments following discharge injected him with a hit of energy. Then, when she left, he crashed almost instantly—wondering about her, captivated to a degree that he decided he would ask her out. Nothing heavy duty or complicated. No pressure. Just time together spent over a cup of coffee, or a quick bite to eat. After all, physician or not, he had the right to explore the calling of his heart.

Two weeks later, she arrived at his office, bubbling, warm and glowing…and he lost his nerve. The shadow of introverted shyness, an issue he had chased since high school, drained off what confidence he had built during her absence. When Siobhan left following her appointment that day, AJ paged through her file, determination on the rise. Bravery returned now that she was gone and now that an increasingly familiar form of emptiness settled into his chest.

He jotted down her cellphone number. He folded the paper into a tight, neat square then tucked it into the side pocket of his lab coat. This time, he'd follow through.

Another two weeks later—with not a single overture made by AJ—Siobhan showed up for her scheduled appointment. By now, her cast looked timeworn, frayed and dingy around the toes and at the bottom, but that was to be expected. That pointed to mobility.

“I'm moving as much as I can,” she said when he mentioned the wear to her cast, and her smooth motions with the crutches. “I don't even feel any pain. I think I just might make it!”