Starting Now (14 page)

He paced the area in front of the window. “You volunteer at the hospital?” he asked, as if he found that unbelievable.

“Two or three days a week.”

“What happened with Burkhart, Smith & Crandall?”

“They laid me off.” It hurt to admit it, but Joe deserved the truth.

“Laid you off?” His voice registered shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No one worked the hours you did.”

She didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t make partner?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I even came close.”

He frowned, as if to say he found that unbelievable and then shook his head. Libby knew what he was thinking … because she’d had the same thought herself just moments before. It went without saying that she’d given up a whole lot for very little return. All she needed to do was look inside the nursery at the baby she’d held so briefly in her arms to realize the sacrifices she’d made.

She felt numb and her head was buzzing. A tight constriction gripped her throat, but she managed to squeak out, “Congratulations on your son.”

He nodded. “Maureen and I feel very blessed.”

She swallowed against the knot in her throat. “I’m happy for you … I really mean that.”

“I know you do.” Joe’s eyes held hers and he offered her a gentle smile, and then reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

“I … I better get back,” she said in a rush, for fear she was about to break down in front of him.

“Yeah … I … ah.” Obviously he was as much at a loss as she was.

“It was good to see you, Joe,” she said, opening the door. Her hand shook so badly she had a difficult time getting her identification badge into the slot so the door would open.

“You too,” he said.

Once inside, Libby leaned against the wall. She hung her head and drew in a couple of deep, stabilizing breaths in order to get ahold of herself. This was so unlike her. Both levelheaded and patient, she was known for her ability to deal with a crisis without allowing her personal
feelings to get the best of her. Well, they had the best of her now. Or the worst, she wasn’t sure which. To her acute embarrassment, she realized that if something didn’t happen quickly she was going to dissolve into tears.

Libby was not a crier. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wept in public. High school? She planted her hand over her mouth and walked blindly into the nursery, pausing at Sharon’s desk. Thankfully the other woman was out of the room. Libby grabbed hold of the edge, struggling, gritting her teeth, not breathing, determined to get a grip.

The nursery door opened and she stiffened. Just her luck, Sharon was back. She wasn’t about to let anyone see her like this and she looked toward the ceiling.

“Libby.”

It wasn’t Sharon. It was Dr. Stone. Why, oh why, did it have to be him?

“I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you,” he said from behind her.

Libby refused to turn around. “Another time.” Somehow she managed to eke out the words. All she wanted was for him to leave. He was the last person in the world she wanted to speak to right now.

“Okay.”

But he didn’t leave. Instead he stayed right where he was. Libby wanted to shout at him to go away. Why did he linger when she so badly wanted him gone?

“I have a feeling something’s wrong here.”

She wondered sarcastically if all men were this intuitive. “Please, would you just go?”

Instead he stepped closer.

“Leave me alone,” she demanded between gritted teeth, fire in her words and in her spirit. Then to her absolute horror the dam broke and she burst into tears. She whirled around, intent on leaving the nursery. If he insisted on staying, then fine. What she didn’t realize was how close he was behind her, and she abruptly bumped into him.
That was all it took. Unable to stop herself, she buried her face in his chest and cried. The room filled with the sound of her heart-wrenching sobs. Her entire upper body shook with the force of her tears.

“Ah …” Phillip’s arms remained at his sides. Then he bounced his hand against the top of her shoulder a couple of times. “I’m sure it isn’t that bad.” The words sounded stiff and awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say.

Unable to hold back the sobs, the grief, and the profound sense of loss, her knees started to give way. She might have collapsed to the floor if Dr. Stone hadn’t caught her.

He wrapped her in his arms; Libby tried to break away but he held her fast against him and his voice turned soft and kind.

“It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “Whatever it is will work out.” Anything else she might have been able to resist, but not gentleness.

Phillip held a sobbing woman in his arms. He didn’t know what had happened to cause this meltdown, and Libby was in no condition to tell him. Through the years he’d dealt with plenty of emotional women, but the context was completely different. He’d had on his doctor hat and they were mothers worried about their children; he would hand them tissues and say what he could to reassure them, filling in the medical details they needed to know.

He would never embrace them, not the way he was holding on to Libby.

She clung to him, her arms around his waist and her face buried in his chest, as she released what appeared to be years of stockpiled tears. She sobbed as violently as if it were the end of the world, as if there was nothing left for her to live for, and she’d lost everything that would ever be precious. The need to comfort her overwhelmed him and he pressed his cheek to the crown of her head.

It’d been awkward at first, seeing her cry like this. He’d had his chance—she’d asked him to leave, and by all that was right he should have taken his cue and vacated the nursery. Instead he’d found it impossible to walk away.

He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t know what to say, and had only managed a few hackneyed words that he doubted she’d even heard. That was probably for the best.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered, rubbing his hand over the back of her head, wanting to comfort her, needing to comfort her.

“My … my ex-husband,” she said, the words muffled against his chest.

“He was here?” Phillip was beginning to imagine what might have happened.

She nodded, her forehead rubbing against his shirt.

“I … I held his … son.”

“You’re still in love with him, then?”

“No.” The lone word was nearly shouted.

“Okay, sorry, you aren’t in love with him.”

“He’s married … he has a son.”

Phillip tried to follow her, knowing he wasn’t always the most intuitive man around.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered, breaking away. “I have to go. Really, I need to go.” Abruptly, she turned away from him and nearly stumbled.

Phillip would have stopped her if he’d known what to say. But before he could think clearly Libby had grabbed her purse and was gone.

Still shaken, Libby returned to her condo, sank into her sofa, and buried her face in her hands. It felt as if her entire world had crumbled at her feet. Seeing Joe and his son had been devastating, bringing into stark reality every single regret she’d been struggling with lately. To make everything ten times worse, Phillip Stone had witnessed it all. To break down in front of him … of all people. Libby wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head, and hibernate for the next ten years.

Phillip Stone was a complete enigma. On the one hand he was both rude and arrogant, and on the other he’d been gentle, caring, and kind. As far as Libby was concerned, he was the perfect candidate for intense, deep emotional therapy. He was a doctor, all right. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde … two completely different people. The first was infinitely easy to dislike and distrust and ignore. The second made her want to bury herself in the comfort of his arms and let him hold her for the next twenty years. Just thinking about the way she’d
melted down in front of him caused her acute embarrassment. She’d never be able to look him in the face again.

This couldn’t be happening; it just couldn’t.

Only it was.

Sucking in a deep breath to center herself, Libby sat upright and squared her shoulders. She reached for her knitting. She’d discovered that holding the needles and yarn calmed her. Although her hands trembled and she was forced to catch a sob or two, she managed to complete an entire row without an error. The baby blanket pattern was the most difficult project she’d tackled. She wasn’t even sure why she’d chosen to knit it. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time. No shaping, no need to sew it together once she’d finished. Lydia had one knitted up for display, and Libby had been drawn to it. The progression from the preemie hats to a blanket had seemed natural enough—like the hats, the blanket would most likely be given to a charity.

After knitting for an hour, Libby’s nerves had relaxed, but only a little. Every time her mind took her to an uncomfortable place she forced her thoughts in a different direction. She refused to entertain a single flashback of her failed marriage or what had happened with Phillip that afternoon. To do so would only upset her more, and she was distressed enough. What a mess she’d made of her life …

Her doorbell chimed, interrupting her musings. It was so rare to get company that all Libby did was stare at the front door. By the time she stood, the doorbell had rung a second time. Apparently whoever was on the other side was impatient.

“Hold on,” she said. Checking the peephole, she gasped and rolled away from the door, flattening her back and her hands against the wall.

Phillip Stone.

“Libby,” he called. “I know you’re in there. Open up.”

Biting into her lower lip so hard she almost broke the skin, she twisted the deadbolt and opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded with great bravado. Her heart felt as if it was about to explode. At this rate she would
never need to exercise again. All she needed to raise her pulse was Phillip Stone.

“Nice to see you, too. Are you going to invite me inside?”

Keeping her hand on the doorknob, she reluctantly moved out of the way.

Phillip walked three feet into her condo, paused, and looked around. “Nice view.”

Libby was fairly certain he hadn’t stopped by to gaze at the Seattle skyline.

“You can close the door now, if you’d like.”

He was bossy, too. Libby shut the door and then leaned against it, needing its support. “Why are you here?” she asked a second time.

“To be perfectly frank, I haven’t figured that out myself.” He walked over to the couch and sat in the very spot she’d so recently vacated.

“As you can see, I’m fine … I apologize for that emotional display, but I’m in control now.”

“Good.” He hesitated and then commented, “When I get upset I usually have a shot of good whiskey.”

“Not my thing,” Libby told him, cringing at the thought. She had a bottle of wine in the refrigerator, but frankly she wasn’t in the mood.

Not knowing what to say, Libby claimed the chair across from him and pressed her two hands between her knees. The silence felt awkward and strained. She was content to wait him out. Eventually he’d get bored and leave. At least that was what she hoped.

Finally Libby couldn’t stand it any longer. “Did you stop by to embarrass me even more?”

He arched his brows as though her question surprised him. “No. I came to make sure you made it home all right.”

“As you can see I … did.”

That didn’t appear to satisfy him. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”

“No.” Libby had no intention of explaining what had led to that dreadful scene. She’d embarrassed herself enough for one day and
wasn’t looking to repeat the performance. Besides, she’d blurted out more than she’d intended earlier. “I believe I already told you everything …” Actually she’d told him more than she was comfortable admitting.

Leaning forward, he set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his palms together.

“I’m not normally like this,” Libby blurted out. Naturally, she’d been upset before. Losing her position with the law firm had been traumatic, too. But it hadn’t caused her to throw herself into a man’s arms and sob her heart out. “Let me put it this way. I am usually able to control my emotions; today was an exception.”

“Good to know.”

She’d been on the verge of calming down when Phillip Stone had arrived. Her pulse had returned to an even rhythm, and she’d managed to herd her thoughts away from the keen embarrassment. Now all her emotions threatened to burst free again. “I was doing just fine until you came along.” Her voice wobbled slightly before she regained control.

“I see. Then it’s all my fault.”

“Yes, exactly.” She smiled in spite of herself. He really was the most surprising man.

He smiled back. “I was worried about you,” he said, speaking low.

“I … I’m okay now.”

He leaned forward and reached for her hand. His touch felt cool against her heated skin.

“How did you know where I live?” she asked without looking up. Her phone number was unlisted.

“I asked Sharon. She had your volunteer form on file.”

He’d been a bit bold about tracking her down. And Sharon already seemed to think there was something romantic happening between them. Her nurse friend had probably been eager to share the information.