“I think so. Twelve stitches plus a tetanus shot.” He chuckled. “He’s going to have a sore hand for quite a while.”
And more than likely would be sleeping in a car tonight, Claire realized. She should have thought to go back and see if Deanna had any questions about the shelter. She’d meant to, but had forgotten when she’d reached the main reception room. At least a dozen patients had come in while she’d been gone and Lynette’s usual good temper was in short supply. They’d worked nonstop the next four hours.
But Dr. Slattery didn’t need to know any of that. “Well, thanks again for helping us out.”
“Like I said, I’m glad I hadn’t left yet.”
He was so laid-back and easygoing it was everything Claire could do to remember that she didn’t want to lower her guard around him. His calm, caring demeanor reminded Claire that some men might actually be everything they claimed to be. That was always a nice surprise, since Ray, her ex-husband, hadn’t been.
Dr. Slattery stepped closer, effectively making it difficult to forget that she needed to stay far away from him. “How’s Wes?”
“Wes? Fine.”
“Shoulder still doing okay?”
She remembered Dr. Slattery’s hands gently working Wes’s shoulder at a wrestling tournament a good month ago, checking to see if any real harm had been done on that mat. “It’s in shape, if his performance is any indication. He won two wrestling matches last weekend.”
A true smile lit his face. “I can’t believe I was on call all weekend and didn’t get to see a single match. I’ll have to stop by and watch him compete one day soon.”
“I’m sure you’re too busy for that.” When he blinked in surprise, Claire attempted to soften her words with a smile.
“I mean, you’re a resident, and help with the football conditioning at Lane’s End High, too. You can’t watch all the kids all the time, right?”
“I do my best.” He eyed her again, then ran a hand through his dark brown hair. “Are you off duty now?”
“I am.”
“I’m a little too keyed up to go home. Would you like a cup of coffee or something?”
“No.” She bit her lip, then said, “I mean, thanks, but I’ve got to get home to Wes. He’s probably already combing the cupboards for junk to eat.”
He laughed. “He wouldn’t be a teenage boy if he wasn’t.”
Relief rushed through her as she realized he wasn’t going to make a big deal about her refusing him. “He’s barely a teenager…only thirteen.”
“I still find it hard to believe you have an eighth-grader.”
“Yeah, well.” No way was she going to discuss how she got pregnant too early, married the wrong guy for the wrong reasons, and then nearly lost Wes when her marriage and her financial situation fell apart.
Those days would probably seem like another world to such a handsome, successful guy. Correction, young guy. “Well. Good night, Dr. Slattery.”
He flashed a smile. “Maybe we could graduate to first names? It’s Ty.”
Claire knew that she’d been hanging on to some kind of weird, outdated formality by insisting on using his title. She wanted to keep her distance. “All right. Ty.” She smiled to take the sting out of her voice, though she doubted he even felt a pinch. “I better get on home.”
“How about I walk you to your car? It’s dark out here.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
He fell into step beside her. “It’s the least I can do. I’m sure Wes would appreciate someone looking out for his mom.”
Unfortunately, her son had already needed to find someone to look out for his mom. Never again would she be in a situation where she felt dependent or inferior. Never again did she want to depend on a man, even for safety’s sake. “I’m okay.”
“Even so…”
Slowly they walked through along rows of cars and finally stopped in front of her gold Corolla. She shivered a little at the cold, anxious to get in the car and head home.
“This is me. Good night, Ty.”
“For some reason, my schedule’s a little bit lighter this week. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime soon. I’ll try and make Wes’s next match.”
Even though Wes liked Ty, even though she knew the guy meant his offer innocently, Claire was in no hurry to make any plans with him. She was not in the market for a relationship. And if she was, it definitely wouldn’t be with someone who made her forget all the reasons why she wasn’t in the market in the first place.
But she didn’t want to be rude. It wasn’t Ty’s fault she wasn’t dating material. “Maybe so.” As she turned on the ignition, Claire watched him stride past her parking area to the physician’s lot.
As she pulled out, she saw him behind her, in an Jeep that also looked as if it had seen better days. That took her by surprise—she’d thought all medical residents drove cars at least a little bit nicer than that.
And as she turned left to go one way on the freeway, he went the other.
All served to remind her that there was more separating her and Dr. Ty Slattery than job titles and makes of automobiles.
She’d been widowed, then homeless. She’d collected cans, just like Deanna and Taylor had. She’d almost died and had stayed in the hospital nearly two weeks. Now she lived in a two-bedroom apartment, truly the worst housing in the best school district she could afford.
Ty Slattery had probably never even thought about the exact price of a McDonald’s cheeseburger. She doubted he’d ever worried about his power getting turned off, had probably never been the recipient of pitied stares and too-concerned expressions.
Fumbling for her cell phone, she punched in her home phone number. “Wes, I’m on my way,” she said the minute he answered.
“Good. I’m starved.”
And with that, all Claire’s troubles melted away. There was only one man in her life who mattered and he had size ten feet and was single-handedly trying to eat her out of house and home. “I’ll bring home a pizza,” she said with a smile. “A pizza big enough for two.”
Chapter Two
“Ty, wait up,” Chris Pickett called out just as Ty was paying for his groceries and about to head back out into the frosty parking lot.
Grabbing hold of his two sacks, Ty turned around and waited for his best friend from high school to wheel his loaded shopping cart over. “I can’t believe we’re seeing each other at the grocery store. Who would have ever thought back when we were seniors that we’d be here on a Friday night?”
“I promised Beth I’d pick up some dinner on the way home. She’s been sick as a dog,” Chris explained.
“Morning sickness all day long, huh?”
“Morning, noon and night. Doc, you said by the fifth month she was going to be feeling better.”
“I told you I was the wrong person to ask. I’ve delivered babies but haven’t helped out with too many pregnancies. Give her OB a call.”
“Beth won’t…she doesn’t want to be a bother.” Chris rested his elbows on the handrail of the cart. “That’s why I’m grocery shopping at seven at night. What’s your excuse?”
Ty stepped to the side so two bundled-up teenagers in Lane’s End High black and gold hoodies could squeeze by. “I live alone. I either