Page 15 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls (Ivy Falls #3)

FORD

Golden Boy

A good thing about the new apartment was how quickly the water got hot.

I stepped into the shower and let the sharp stream pummel my back and shoulders.

Hot water was the one thing I missed while living on the ship in Senegal.

After a while you got used to the lukewarm trickle that barely allowed you to rinse the soap off your body and the shampoo out of your hair.

After I toweled off, pulled on a T-shirt and gym shorts, I made my way toward the couch and my computer.

Logging in remotely to the clinic’s mainframe, I confirmed that the blood I drew from Mrs Vanderpool would go to the lab as a stat request and confirmed the notes in her file about the results of her EKG.

When I’d walked out of the clinic with Silvio and Mrs Vanderpool, the last person I expected to find was Piper.

She stood erect. Hands fisted at her sides.

There was something in the way she held herself so tightly, like rope wound securely against a sailing line.

It was the same way she’d behaved with Dex.

Like she wanted to tug those she cared about close and keep them from harm.

When her chest started to heave, hands trembling at her sides, I understood what was happening.

Over the years, I’d witnessed several panic attacks.

My reaction to hers was different. Gone were all the clinical directions, the rational response to her fear.

Instead, I wanted to surround her in my arms, hold on to her until her body stopped shaking.

Whisper that she was safe. That I’d never let anything harm her.

It took focus to calm her down. To not sweep a hand over her cheek, cup her face and reassure her that she was going to be all right.

Once her breaths returned to normal, it struck me how she shifted right into caretaker mode, her concern immediately turning to Mrs Vanderpool. It was a rare sight for me.

Growing up in Harpeth Manor people were self-involved.

The only issues that mattered were the ones that affected their status or wealth.

Sure, they volunteered at charity events, attended fundraiser balls, but that was more about jockeying for position in society rather than caring about the cause.

It wasn’t until I witnessed the staff on the Humanity of the Seas go out of their way to help our patients, comfort them, ensure they had the barest of necessities, that I began to question how I was raised. What I truly valued.

Piper was another reminder of the goodness in the world. She didn’t have to say a word. Her concern for the people of Ivy Falls was clear in her actions. The worry etched into the lines around her mouth when she saw Mrs Vanderpool move unsteadily on her feet.

A sharp knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. When I opened it I was shocked to find Gray on the other side.

‘What are you doing here? How did you find me?’

‘Made a phone call yesterday. You’d be surprised what a little sweet talk to the woman who answers the phone at your clinic can do.’

Gray stepped inside the small and simple apartment.

The way the skin pinched around his eyes said he thought the place was beneath me.

This was where the two of us parted as brothers.

He loved the indulgences our upbringing provided.

Prep school. A new car for his sixteenth birthday.

Access to his trust fund at twenty-five.

He enjoyed filling his life with things, where I was content with medicine and the way it connected me to people.

He took two strides forward and plopped himself down on the couch. ‘Got a beer?’

‘It’s nine a.m. I am not giving you a beer.’

He mumbled something that sounded like, ‘Killjoy.’

‘To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?’

He crossed his arms over the Prada polo he was wearing. From the unpleasant twitch of his lips, I understood where this was going.

‘Stop worrying. I promise I’m going to call Mom.’

He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. ‘Can’t you give her a break? She means well even if she has a shitty way of showing it.’

I dragged my hands through my wet hair and sank down beside him. ‘How long before Mom and Dad let go of this dream that I’m going to come back here, join some fancy practice, and live the country-club life? Since we were kids, I’ve been telling them I want another path.’

He rubbed a hand over the dark stubble on his chin. ‘Ford, you’ve always been like this.’

‘Like what?’ Irritation filled my voice. I was tired of having this conversation with him. Tired of my family wanting me to be something I wasn’t.

‘Stubborn. Unwavering in what you want. There’s never been even a flicker of compromise in you.’

‘Compromise?’ I ground out. ‘Just because I’m not happy with a nine-to-five, playing golf on the weekends, sleeping my way through every eligible woman in Harpeth Manor, does not mean I can’t compromise.’

He flinched as I spoke. I probably should not have thrown his very existence into his face, but this topic was getting old. It came up every time I returned to Tennessee.

‘I’m sorry,’ he grumbled. ‘It’s only that when you leave, Mom and Dad freak out because their “golden boy” is gone and all they have left is me.’

Even though he constantly razzed me as a kid, Gray and I spent a lot of time together when we were young.

Our backyard led to an open portion of woods where we’d build forts and pretend we were pirates or explorers.

Our parents were always gone at work or committee meetings so we spent a lot of time hiding from the housekeeper or begging her to make us the boxed macaroni and cheese our mother hated.

When he went to college in Texas, he made a point of calling me once a week to check in.

To make sure that our parents weren’t being too overbearing – which they always were.

I took in the white hairs sprouting up around his ears and across his temple. How his sun-worn skin made him look older than thirty-five. Every time I fled home I was doing it to pursue what I wanted, and I didn’t think about what I was leaving behind for him.

‘That’s not true. You know you’re the epitome of what they want in a son,’ I said.

That puffed-up facade of his wavered. ‘I’ve tried.

Went to Rice like they expected. Took the banking job they approved of even though I wanted to be a golf pro.

I’ve looked after them as best I could, but then…

after Mom’s accident…’ A rough breath left his lips.

‘They made it very clear that they needed you more. That my opinions and insight didn’t matter.

It’s a good thing you’re back to stay this time. It takes the pressure off me.’

I looked at my hands, unable to meet his steady stare.

‘You are staying, right?’

How could I tell my brother that Africa felt more like home than the place we were raised?

That the staff and crew looked out for each other.

How a birthday was never forgotten – or, worse, ignored – but met with gifts and a song during the dinner hour.

The way the crew hung white twinkle lights around the ship for the winter holidays.

Tethered a massive fourteen-foot tree with colorful ornaments on the bow.

The only thing my parents ever did was force us into uncomfortable smiles for a Christmas card that masked years of mutual disdain.

I could offer up a dozen excuses, but he’d never understand what it was like to have the unequivocal trust of a patient who needed your help.

That during my time in Senegal, I’d triaged debilitating facial tumors, cataracts that had left people blind for years, and other serious medical issues that required the care of the surgeons on board.

What I did wasn’t a profession, it was a calling, and no matter how many times I tried to explain it to him or my parents, they never understood.

‘I signed up to do another six months. I leave in early October.’

‘Dammit, Ford. Why do you keep doing this? Are we so bad to be around?’

‘It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I go where my skills are needed.’

‘And you think you can be of more help in Africa than here?’

‘Yes. I’m not only seeing patients, but I’m helping to train future doctors from the country. Those who can stay and help their community.’

He crossed his arms over his chest like he wasn’t convinced.

‘It’s all right, Gray. I’ve had several conversations with Mom’s doctors and physical therapist. She’s made a great recovery.’

He flung his hands out in frustration. ‘See, that’s what I mean. I can’t talk to those people. Understand all the medical jargon. And Dad, well, he does as little as possible to show he’s interested. That he cares.’

‘I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t want me here. I make every interaction uncomfortable. There will never be a time when I say or do the right thing for them. They hold me to a standard that is unachievable and it’s fucking exhausting.’

‘How do you think I feel? Being under constant scrutiny? Never reaching the level of success they expect?’

‘It’s hard, I’d guess.’

‘Damn straight,’ he huffed, shook his head. ‘And this is what you want? What you need to do?’

‘Yes. It’s important to me.’

‘Do they at least appreciate you? Treat you right?’ he said with brotherly concern.

‘They do. In fact, you should come visit me. The people and the city are beautiful. Maybe if you witnessed what I did, you’d have a better understanding of why I’m so committed.’

He stood and stalked to the sliding glass door, looking out to the square. ‘What do you do for excitement around here?’

This was Gray’s go-to move when things got uncomfortable. He reverted to the playboy, fun-all-the-time persona, which got grating.

‘I don’t have much time for fun. If I’m not at the clinic, I’m here eating or sleeping. It’s a pretty mundane life and I enjoy it.’

He glanced at his phone, pushed a couple of buttons and a number appeared in my texts.

‘I saw Missy at the club yesterday. Even though you disappeared from brunch like some kind of jewel thief, she still wants to catch up with you.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘Why not? How long have you been alone? Call her. Have a drink. Maybe a fun weekend in the sheets. You’re leaving again anyway,’ he said, unable to mask the bitterness in his voice. ‘It’s the perfect scenario.’

‘Maybe for you, but I don’t operate that way.’

I stood and moved to the glass door, my attention snagging on the pink awning over Sugar Rush.

Was Piper still there?

Was she talking to Barb and Susan about me?

I shook my head. Focused back on my brother. ‘Besides giving me grief about our parents, was there a reason you drove all the way here from Harpeth Manor?’

‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ He pulled a red envelope from the back pocket of his golf pants. My name was embossed on the front in thick black ink.

‘What’s this?’

‘Mom and Dad are having a fortieth anniversary party at the club. Cocktails and dinner. Champagne toast. They’ve asked that we both give a speech.’

I closed my eyes. Dragged a hand down my face. I was not a ‘speak in public’ kind of guy. Too many eyes narrowed in my direction. Too much expectation for me to be witty, clever and heartfelt all at the same time. I’d rather place twenty catheters than speak to that crowd.

‘How about you talk and I’ll stand dutifully by your side?’ I said.

‘Hell no. If I have to be trotted out like some kind of show pony, you do too.’

‘Fine,’ I said, taking the envelope from him.

He gave a satisfied nod like he was James Bond completing some urgent mission. ‘Mom said you should bring a date.’

‘Goodbye, Gray.’ I yanked him toward the door and threw it open.

He patted me on the head and turned for the hallway. After two steps, he spun back around. ‘You need to tell Mom and Dad the truth about going back to Africa.’

‘I know,’ I said heavily. ‘Give me some time.’

He gave a stiff nod. ‘Call Missy.’

‘You’re a menace.’

‘Older brothers know best,’ he cackled, and continued down the hall.

I closed the door and leaned my head against the wood.

A date? Nope.

The only woman who made my heart race had absolutely zero interest in ever being my plus-one.