Page 58 of Coming Home

“Dr. Owens,” Dad greeted her as he walked into the clinic. His blue eyes shimmered with playful pride.

She frowned. “Hey, how was the hospital?” Her voice was soft, like a delicate sheet of parchment that could easily be torn.

“Good. Mrs. Jarvis and the baby are doing well.” His warm stare focused on her. “Are you okay?”

“Mrs. Lewis is here.” She motioned to where Mrs. Lewis sat with an oversized tan leather purse in her lap, waiting for her cup of tea. “She wants you…the real Dr. Owens.”

His grin flattened. “Natalie…” His eyes flicked to Mrs. Lewis and back to her. “…it will take time, but it will get better. I promise.”

With a tender squeeze of her shoulder, he turned and walked to Mrs. Lewis. Nat stood, watching Mrs. Lewis light up with his approach.

“Oh, thank goodness Dr. Owens is back.” LeAnne let out a long breath as she shuffled past with a cup of tea.

Nat dug her fingernails into her palms, pivoted, and walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“When we make little sacrifices, we like to have them appreciated, at least.”~Louisa May Alcott,Little Women

The crafting Zen cocooned Nat. She sat, crossed-legged, in front of the coffee table, scrapbooking supplies sprawled over the surface. The rainbow bedazzled crafting kit sat beside her like a trusty sidekick on all her adventures. In so many ways, it was. It was with her each time the swirl of feelings and thoughts rippled through her like a frenzied storm.

She lost herself in it. The sound of paper being cut replaced the echoed voice of Mrs. Lewis’sthe real Dr. Owens.The squish of cardstock placed on hot glue replaced LeAnne’s sigh ofThank goodness, Dr. Owens is back. The sensation of stray glitter clinging to her fingertips could not replace the truth.

I am not Dr. Owens.

Tears stung in her eyes. Even crafty time lacked the power to erase the truth. The attempt to blink away the tears failed. Each salty droplet taunted her.

“Hey.” Noah’s soft baritone filtered into the room.

Nat looked up. Through tear-fuzzed vision, she saw him standing at the open door, takeout from Daryl’s Pizzeria in hand, concern sketched on his face.

Placing the takeout on the desk by the front window, he moved to her. “What’s wrong?” He lowered, sitting next to her.

“I’m not Dr. Owens,” she whimpered, falling into his waiting arms.

She offered no words, just tears. Noah held her tight, rubbing soothing circles along her back. He offered no whispered commands to “Don’t cry” or “None of that.” Just like that morning at the park, he embraced her sadness. She buried herself in his open arms.

“I’m here.” He pressed a gentle kiss against her temple.

As her tears ceased, she remained nestled in his embrace. The quiet evening enveloped them, freeing her to let this go into its secret darkness. The sun that once streamed in from the open windows was swallowed by the velvet night. In the light, she’d smile, but here in the shadows of the dimly lit room and safety of his arms, she’d let the sadness out. If only for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Why?”

She sat up, dashing away the tears with her hands. “Ugh,” she groaned, pulling her hands away and noticing the pieces of glitter on her fingertips that were no doubt all over her face. “I’m a mess.”

Noah cupped her cheeks, and the warmth of his palms cascaded through her body. “You’re my beautiful mess. What happened?”

“They don’t take me seriously at the clinic…the patients…the staff. They always ask for my dad. When I give directions, the staff say, ‘Let me check with Dr. Owens’ because I’mnotDr. Owens…I’m just his daughter.”

“What do your parents say about it?”

Nat closed her eyes. “They’re part of the problem.” The quiet response was almost drowned out by the chorus of crickets chirping outside the open window.

It was the first time she said it out loud. In so many ways, her parents’ words and actions told her over and over again that she was just Natalie, their daughter, and not Dr. Nat Owens, their colleague.

“Have you talked to them?” His right hand moved to her hand, intertwining their fingers.

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