Harold checked at his watch. “By God, you are late,” his said, his blue eyes enormous behind his thick glasses. “You’re never late. Is something wrong?”
“No.” She looked down at the bundle of case files she held. “Just too much reading and not enough sleep.”
And too many painful memories.
Harold shook his head. “You’re the most dedicated doctor I’ve ever met. Your patients are lucky to have you. Your forgotten ones—that’s what you call them.”
Yes, she did. Children, no matter what age, had a hard time dealing with their parents when illness struck. They had lives and usually the old people were relegated to a nursing home where they were completely forgotten. It was a sad reality, but one she saw all the time.
“When I get old, you’re going to be my doctor,” Harold smiled.
Harold was in his mid forties and she could have told him she had patients his age with Alzheimer’s, but she didn’t want to frighten him.
“Thanks, Harold. Now I’ve got to go,” she said, and started to leave.
“Oh, Dr. Cooper,” Harold called after her. “I just wanted to remind you about the eleven o’clock meeting.”
She stopped. “Meeting?”
“Yeah, about the new computer system we’re installing. Didn’t you get the memo?”
Frowning, she said, “Maybe. I’m not sure—I’ve had so many memos this week. I’m sure Jean or Sharon will take care of whatever needs taking care of.”
“No, no” was Harold’s quick answer. “The staff and nurses have already had their instructions. This is for the doctors. The head of the computer company is flying in as a favor to Dr. Benson. He’s speaking with the doctors personally. It’s an amazing system and it’ll make life so much easier.”
“My schedule’s already backed up and—”
“You have to be there,” he interrupted. “Dr. Benson expects everyone to be there. Half an hour or so—that’s all it’ll take.”
Dr. Benson was head of the group and he’d been talking for a while about a new system. She didn’t have time, but she should probably learn something about it. She hated the business part of her job. She only wanted to treat patients, but she had to admit that improved computer skills would benefit her and them.
“Okay, Harold,” she said in a resigned voice. “I’ll be there.”
She went in through her private entrance and laid her papers on her desk, then shrugged on her white coat and walked into her bathroom to check her appearance. She hadn’t had time to do anything about her hair so she’d pulled it back and clipped it behind her head. It made her look older, more mature, and that was fine. Her face was blotchy, though, from lack of sleep and too many tears. Her patients wouldn’t notice, she was sure.
“Dr. Cooper?” her nurse called from the doorway.
“Yes, Jean,” Emily answered, coming out of the bathroom.
“Thank God.” Jean let out a sigh of relief. “I was getting worried.”
“I’m here now, so let’s get started,” Emily said. “I suppose we have a full morning.”
“Sure do. All the exam rooms are occupied.” She smiled brightly. Jean was a lovely young woman in her late twenties with a calm, sunny disposition that was invaluable to Emily’s patients.
Emily took the folder Jean was handing her. “Do you know anything about this new computer system?”
“Yes, we’ve had classes for two days now.” At Emily’s puzzled expression, she asked, “You didn’t read your memo, did you?”
“No.” Emily glanced at her desk. “I remember Sharon giving it to me, but I must have put it somewhere.”
Jean raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re hopeless when it comes to interoffice communication. The memo was all about the system, the computer company—all sorts of information.”
“Well, I’ll learn about it later. Right now I have patients to see.” She walked to the first exam room. “Remind me that I have a meeting at eleven.”
Emily was busy for the rest of the morning, and even though she tried to make up time, it was a lost cause. Her patients didn’t like to be rushed and they liked lots of attention. When she finished with her last appointment for the morning, she realized that it was almost noon. Oh, no!
“Jean, you were supposed to remind me about the meeting,” she said, hurrying into the corridor. She might be able to catch the end, the question-and-answer part.
“I’m sorry.” Jean’s apologetic voice followed her.
She quickly made her way to the conference room. Opening the door, she stepped inside, but it was too late. The meeting was over. Doctors were standing around talking.
Harold immediately approached her, and he didn’t hide his grin. “Forgot, huh?”
“I’m sorry, Harold, the morning got away from me.”
“Well, at least you can still meet the head of the company. He can answer any questions you might have.”
Questions? How could she have questions about something she’d never even seen?
He took her arm and led her to a group of men. “Mr. Talbert, I’d like you to meet our geriatrics specialist, Dr. Emily Cooper.”
A tall man in a dark business suit turned around—and Emily’s world came to a complete stop. Jackson Scott Talbert. She’d know him anywhere. He hadn’t changed all that much from…God, how long had it been? Eighteen years and five months. Funny how she remembered that exactly. And he looked the same, just older. Same lean build and honed masculine features. Same dark blond hair that curled slightly, although now there were streaks of gray. Same deep green eyes that haunted her dreams. All these things registered as Emily shook his hand.
His clasp was warm and strong, another thing she remembered about him. Her pulse quickened and she had trouble breathing, but she heard herself talking. She had no idea what she was saying. All she knew was that she had to get out of the room and fast.
Within seconds she was in the hallway, almost running to her office. Why hadn’t she read the memo? she chastised herself. Then she would’ve known. She would have been prepared. She rushed into her bathroom, closed the door and leaned heavily against it. Pushing away from the door, she sat on the toilet and buried her face in her hands. Why now? Why did Jackson have to come back into her life now? Especially after last night. The dream was still vivid in her mind. Did her daughter—no, she corrected herself, their daughter—have those deep green eyes? She’d never know and neither would Jackson because she would never tell him about their daughter.
She stood up and glanced in the mirror. She looked like hell. She smoothed a hand over her dark hair and tightened the clip at the back of her head. Opening a drawer, she took out some makeup. She powdered her face and applied lipstick, but it didn’t help; she still looked hollow-eyed and tired. Jackson probably hadn’t even recognized her, she thought grimly. Very little of the happy, laughing teenager he had known was left.
She hadn’t lost her composure like this in years. Seeing him, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, was a shock, and it had blown her professional persona completely to shreds. Jackson must think she was some babbling idiot, and Dr. Benson would demand an explanation of her rude behavior.
What if her colleagues knew the truth? What if they knew her secret? Would they look at her differently? Of course not, she told herself. They were professionals like herself and they would understand. During their years in the medical profession, they’d frequently seen teenage pregnancies.