“I’m coming home, Grandpa.”
Noah McKnight admired his daughter’s drawing of Brennan Medical Clinic one last time before taking it to work. At the top was her trademark rainbow and Welcome Dr. Brennan, printed in crayon. For a second-grader who’d just turned seven, Kendi had produced a masterpiece, or at least he thought so.
“Daddy, do you think Dr. Brennan will like my welcome sign?”
“Like it? Kendi, she’ll love it!” He lifted her high and kissed her forehead, loving the feel of her long blond hair swishing against his face.
He lowered her to the counter stool so she could supervise. Carefully, he rolled her drawing into a cylinder, making sure it would travel unwrinkled. If he didn’t do the job right, she would tell him about it.
She sat on her knees, leaning over the counter, keeping a watchful eye. Her beautiful hair swung down, covering part of her face.
“You did a nice job of brushing your hair,” he said. A compliment might soften his daughter’s strong will.
“I know,” she said, matter-of-factly. She took being beautiful for granted, just as she took being tall for her age and right-handed.
“How about wearing one of those new barrettes?”
“No,” she said, shaking that blond mane.
“They’re yellow.”
“I love yellow!” she said with a sunny smile.
Like he didn’t know that? “I could French braid your hair.” He was getting better at it.
But she just shook her head, closing the discussion as only she could. Kendi never sassed or was hateful, but she had decided opinions on how most things should be, and there wasn’t a wishy-washy bone in her body. If her mother had been that strong, they might still be a family of three.
“Do you think Dr. Brennan will like the rainbow?”
“She’ll love the rainbow.”
“How do you know that, Daddy?”
“Dr. Brennan is a pediatrician, just like your pediatrician, Dr. Marsha. You know how much Dr. Marsha likes the things you make for her.”
“Yep, she does. And Dr. Crabtree liked his goodbye picture.”
“Yep,” he agreed, though he wasn’t that sure. In the two years Noah had worked as Keith Crabtree’s office nurse, the man had rarely shown enthusiasm or genuine interest in others. It was his reputation for thoroughness, not his personality, that kept his patient roster full.
“Is Dr. Brennan pretty, Daddy?”
“Does that matter?”
“Nope, but is she?”
“I only met her once, and it was a long time ago.” A year and a half was a long time, measured by Kendi’s standards. They’d buried her mother six months before that.
He remembered Beth Brennan better than he admitted, though. When she was introduced as Dr. Crabtree’s replacement, she’d been radiant, happy and so attractive that he’d wondered what it was going to be like working in the close quarters of their office.
Later, when he’d walked with her to her grandfather’s office, and, later still, to her car, he hadn’t been thinking how she looked, just how she must feel. Ragged emotion showed on her face, and he’d wished he could help.
“Does Dr. Brennan like little girls?”
“Sure. And little boys, too.”
“Is Dr. Brennan married?”
“I don’t know.” She hadn’t been when she’d first planned to take Crabtree’s place, but she could be now.
“Well, if she’s not, maybe Dr. Brennan could be your girlfriend.”
Whoa! Where did that come from? He hadn’t had a girlfriend since he’d met Kendi’s mother, and he didn’t want one now. “No, Kendra, Dr. Brennan can’t be my girlfriend.”
“You called me Kendra.”
“That’s your name.”
“Yeah, but you never call me Kendra unless you’re kind of mad at me.”
Did he really do that? “But I love your name. Mommy gave it to you.”
“Why can’t Dr. Brennan be your girlfriend?”
“Because she’s my boss.”
“Why can’t she be your girlfriend and your boss?”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Okay, he was thirty; she was seven. He should be able to end a conversation. Before Merrilee died, he could have. As the only one left to love Kendi, it was difficult to be hard on her, even a little bit.
He leaned across the counter and tweaked her nose playfully. “Remember when Justin was your boyfriend?”
“Dad-dee! William is my boyfriend!”
“I know. Was Justin mad when you started liking William?”
Kendi giggled. “Yep. He wouldn’t talk to me for a whole day.”
“That’s the way it is with grown-ups, too. If Dr. Beth was my girlfriend, and I got a new girlfriend, she might get mad, and I would have to find a new job.”
“I like new jobs.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t always like new jobs when you’re a grown-up.”
“Why?” Her big blue-violet eyes were glued to his.
Usually, he tried to break things down so she could understand, but this lesson could wait. He knew just the thing to make those eyes glaze with indifference.
“Kendi, when you have to find a new job, you lose your seniority, your retirement benefits, the relationship you’ve developed with colleagues and the opportunity to continue working in an environment you initially chose. You have to begin the job search all over again—networking with former coworkers about openings, interviewing potential employers, assessing whether this work is a good fit for your skills and temperament. You might never find a position you like as well.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Kendra?”
“Can we have hot dogs for dinner?”
Chapter Two
Beverly Hills, California—October, one month later
There it was, the ultimate trophy: a parking space of her own. The flat piece of metal read Dr. E. Brennan, which meant the sign maker didn’t know she was Beth, not Elizabeth, but that didn’t matter—not when she’d spent a year and a half depending on the New York subway system, taxis and her own two feet to get around.
Beth wheeled her new yellow Beetle convertible into the space between two luxury cars. Grandpa had been right. Compared to the other vehicles in the BMC physicians’ parking area, her VW stood out like a happy child at a convention of bankers. It didn’t fit in any more than she did, but they were both here to stay.
It had been humbling to see how willingly Grandpa had agreed to the changes she’d wanted in her office, and he hadn’t been exaggerating about Keith Crabtree wanting to leave without fanfare.
She’d met with Keith after hours in his office and worked out the transition, but she hadn’t greeted the staff she would inherit. The receptionist—a young woman in her early twenties—was new to her. One of Keith’s nurses had been there when Beth was a child and a patient herself. Her other