Page 6 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

My life is kind of a hot mess, between my brother and my studies. It’s not the sort of thing that a guy like Jackson will want to get involved with. Plus, he’s like twenty years older than me and my dad's friend. The only thing that flirting will do is make me look silly.

Right?

Chapter three

Jackson

There’snothingquitelikecoming home after the end of a long shift.

It’s a fairly long drive, but it’s worth it. The house sits up on top of a hill, with big glass windows all the way around it, and an excellent view of both the nearby Elliot Bay and the city. From below, at the sidewalks, it’s easy to get lost in the winding streets, the bright lights, and the massive amounts of towering buildings.

From my driveway, though, I can make out that the greenery is still very much alive, scattered in thick groves between the trees. The sun sets behind a few of the higher buildings, turning the skyline into black jutting apartments in front of pink, orange, and yellow streaks.

I only take a minute to marvel at the sight before finally heading into the house, the scent of roses washing over me the moment I step inside. There are several candles lit on the mantle above the fireplace, though no fire has been stoked.

“I’m home,” I call out, taking my shoes off at the door. I’ve barely gotten my jacket undone when my daughter, Bonnie, comes barreling down the stairs and throws herself at me. Arms wrap around my waist, and I laugh, dropping down onto both knees so that I can pull her close. “There you are!”

“I missed you,” says Bonnie. It’s always the first thing out of her mouth. “Come look at what Sandra and I did!”

She grabs onto my hand, barely giving me time to get back to my feet, and tugs me toward the stairs. I go along with her, happily listening to Bonnie chatter on about what she and the nanny did that day.

The one thing that my work comes between is my time with Bonnie. At eight years old she is able to understand that what I do is very, very important. And when we haven’t even made it down the hall to the bedroom and my phone starts ringing, she knows that I’m not going to be staying home.

Her expression falls, and she lets go of my hand. “Just a sec,” I say, lifting up a finger. With the other hand, I pull out my phone. My voice turns gruff and irritated when I swipe to answer it and demand into it, “What?”

There’s a moment of silence and then the familiar voice of Glenda Brown, the head nurse, comes through. ”Don’t take that tone with me, Hawk. You know that I don’t want to be making this call any more than you want to be answering it.”

“I literally just walked through the door. I haven’t even changed yet!” I protest.

“Then you can cut back on the time that it takes you to get here. Look, it’s not my fault. Butcher went home with some sort of a stomach thing—and yes, it is real, Andy’s been cleaning up the mess for the last hour, and we’ve had a pile up on the highway. Seven cars, and it’s messy. We need you back here.”

It’s not Glenda’s fault. She’s literally just the messenger, I know. But it still takes everything that I have to not chew her out and just hang up. I can’t do that. Part of my job is going in when there’s an issue, especially when other people don’t show up.

Doctors don’t really get time off unless they’ve put in for vacation. Otherwise, we’re always ‘on call’. And senior staff members like me are usually the first ones to reach out to when something goes funny. Over twenty years spent working at this hospital have taught me that well.

I give a heavy sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll be in.”

“I’ll let them know,” says Glenda and hangs up.

I turn to Bonnie. “Honey—”

“I know.” Bonnie wilts a little bit.

I hate seeing her sad like this. Sinking down to my knees again, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks just like her mother, right down to the eyes. Sometimes, I think that she doesn’t have a speck of me in her.

I can’t complain.

It’s made her beautiful.

“Bonnie Belle,” I say, breaking out the nickname. “You know that I would stay home if I could.”

“I know,” she says again. “It’s real important that you help people, cause not everyonecanhelp people.”

“That’s right,” I tell her. “And I’ll make it up to you, too. You and I will go to the zoo next weekend, alright? I’ll let everyone know that it doesn’t matter if the whole city has caught on fire, we’re going to look at the lions.”

Smiling shyly, she asks, “And the pandas?”

“We can even look at the cheetahs,” I tell her, solemnly, like it’s the most important promise that I’ve ever made.

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