Page 8 of You Loved Me Once
Who needs pants anyway?
Grabbing the only semi-decent dress I own, I finish getting ready. Today, I take a little time to make myself look warm.Whatever the hell that means.I’m told constantly I look cold, put off, and damn near scary by the nurses. According to them, I don’t smile enough.
However, my patients don’t seem to mind. I produce results no matter what my temperature is.
My blonde hair is pulled back, and I line my brown eyes with charcoal liner, happy I only stabbed myself in the eye twice this time. It’s an improvement.
The phone blares Metallica and I smile, knowing who is on the other end of that call.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Serenity, my beautiful girl,” Daddy’s voice is beaming with pride.
“I’m not so beautiful right now,” I chuckle. I have one eye with mascara on and one has a black blob of eyeliner under it.
I can precision cut a tumor without nicking anything, but putting on makeup? Forget it.
Daddy blows out a long breath. “You’ll never see yourself the way I see you. So, today is the big day?”
“It is!” My voice rises with excitement.
I’ve bored my father with more details than the six-foot-three burly biker could ever care to know. I think he’s now an expert on ovarian cancer and possible treatments. Although, he sort of was before. This victory is partially his.
My mother passed away two days after my twenty-fourth birthday with Everton, Daddy, and I beside her. Before that day, I can’t remember ever seeing my father cry. But there he was, holding her hand, with tears streaming down his face. I held him as sobs wracked through his body, and he fell apart in my arms. He has only ever loved two things as much as he did Harmony Adams: his children, and the open road.
“I’m proud of you, Ren. I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re a remarkable woman. I wish your mother were here to see this.” He clears his throat.
I wish she were too. “She’s with me every day.”
She’s why I do this.
“Me too, honey. Me too.”
If she hadn’t died, I don’t know that gynecological oncology would’ve been where I ended up. I don’t even know that I would’ve finished school with a GPA high enough to get my residency at Northwestern.
Boys make you stupid and you lose focus on what matters.
My second alarm blares from the living room and I curse. “Damn it! I have to go, but I might be able to head up to the farm this week?”
Even as I say the words, I know it’ll never happen. It’s been a little over six months since I’ve been able to get up there. I’ve been so busy preparing for today.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” he laughs. “Maybe you’ll finally bring that boy to come meet me.”
Not again. “Westin has to work.”
“This is ridiculous, Serenity. It’s been years that you’ve had these horrible excuses. Don’t tell me that brain surgeons don’t have a day off.”
Sure they do, but the brain surgeon I frequently spend nights with doesn’t need to meet my father. I can’t even imagine the awkwardness of that meeting. My father wants to marry me off and he’s never going to see that happen.
“I’ll check with him,” I say, knowing I won’t.
“Ren, love is...”
“Love is not something I’m going to talk about now,” I cut him off. “I really have to go, Daddy.”
“Kick cancer’s ass, honey-pie.”
“I will. Tell Everton I said hi!”
