Page 10 of Daddy to Go

We spent the rest of breakfast and coffee teasing each other back and forth playfully as Mary tried to get more details out of me. But I wasn’t giving in. It had been so perfect with Ryder that I was afraid if I thought about things too much, I’d worry it to death. Yet, the anxiety persisted. How likely was it I would get knocked up on the first time? That kind of thing only happened in shitty after school specials, right?

“Earth to the wild sex goddess.” Mary’s voice echoed into my thoughts.

I sat up, shaking my head. “Sorry, my mind was somewhere else.”

She snickered. “I’m sure it was. Was it long, hard, and warm?”

I sighed. “It isn’t always about just that.”

Suddenly, Mary’s face went serious.

“Listen, it’s all great but I just want you to be realistic. These things rarely turn into fairy tales. If the doctor did that with you, well, I’m just saying, take it one step at a time. Don’t start imagining your little doctor children and doctor dog just yet. He may have been sexy and cute but he could be a complete jerk. I hope not, but just be careful.”

She was right, and I already knew it, but for some reason the words cut through me like a knife. There were no dreams of grandeur, but I guess I had some hopes of becoming a couple. Who knows what Ryder thought?

“I will be careful. And I am. No thoughts of white weddings,” I lied.

She gave me a look. “Better not be. Cause I’ll Red Wedding this guy if he hurts you. I’ll come in with my sword in one hand, and my whip in another, and he’ll be wishing he lostGame of Thronesafter that.”

We both burst into laughter, but my heart thumped a little bit faster. What did Ryder want from our encounter? There was only one way to find out.

6

Ryder

My head had its own heartbeat. I saw fourteen patients in nine hours. I ate a ham and cheese sandwich from the worst deli in the world, one that likely had rotted meat in it. I was a sucker for a family owned business, even if they were terrible.

I washed my hands off at the nurse’s station sink and flapped them over the bowl, grabbing a couple of paper towels and drying off to my elbows. I glanced up at my reflection in the mirror that hung over it, seeing the stress lines in my forehead. Maybe the constant travel was starting to age me, and make me tired.

Turning, I leaned against the sink, giving a fake smile and wave at Mrs. Mercer, the 73-years young lady who had given me a full lecture on the use of tinctures during her exam. I figured if she survived at-home medicine for seventy something years, who was I to tell her any different? That and I really didn’t want to know the full history of her wacky ways.

“She gave you the rundown, didn’t she?” one of the nurses, Alex, asked with a chuckle. “Which topic was it? Fermented greens? No, wait. You don’t look like the fermented greens type.”

I frowned. “Thank God.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Must have been the tinctures.”

“Ding, ding,” I chimed. “Brilliant. Don’t know why I wasted my life going to medical school.”

Alex shrugged. “Guess you had to learn the hard way. When are you opening up your tincture shop?”

I grabbed my keys off the desk. “After I learn how to ferment vegetables.”

“Smart,” she nodded as she broke out into laughter. “See you in the morning Doc.”

I tapped my hand down the counter. “You know of any chill spots I can get a drink?”

Alex pulled her sweatshirt jacket on over her scrubs. “Uh, yeah. There’s a little bar called Torrent Jacks right down the street. My husband grabs beers there sometimes. Pretty cool place on a Thursday.”

Giving her the thumbs up, I walked down the hall and out the back door. My car was parked right up to the curb in the back lot and I was relieved to not have to smell old lady perfume and the scent of antiseptic. I clicked the keys, unlocking my Mercedes SL36 Roadster. It was a present I got for myself. After all, I don’t own a house and travel all the time. I can only shop so much, so the car seemed like the perfect gift.

Unfortunately, out there beyond the cities and traffic, in small town life, I felt a little ridiculous driving a car that cost more than most residents’ homes. It made me really question whether I felt the need to have the car or not. I felt uncomfortable, like I was showboating or something.

But too late now. I found some street parking and glanced up at a small flickering neon sign across the street. It was Torrent Jacks, and close enough to stumble back drunk to the hotel if I had one too many. I waved at a slowing car and jogged across the street, grabbing the door and holding it as two middle aged women giggled and hurried through. Normally, I’d have an automatic smile on my face, but for some reason they just weren’t coming today. I wasn’t upset, just plagued with thoughts.

The bar was pretty busy but there was an open seat to the left. The bartender walked over as I sat down. “Hey, man. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a Dewar’s on the rocks,” I replied. “Thanks.”