The Doctor's Perfect Match Read online

  Something touched the back of her hand. She jumped and looked up to find Brooks studying her.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes! Fine. Just...preoccupied.”

  He curled his fingers around hers and squeezed. “It’s going to be good news, but you may have to make some decisions, and you should prepare yourself for that.”

  She nodded, uncertain if he knew more than he was saying or if she was reassured.

  A few minutes later, Lyla put a loaf of French bread into the oven, and twenty minutes after that, they sat down to the table. Eva did like gumbo, but not as much as she liked Morgan and Lyla Simone. She helped clean up afterward and walked into the study with Lyla to find Brooks sprawled on the floor with Bri bouncing up and down on his chest. Eva saw the look of surprise that Lyla sent to Morgan and the smile that they shared.

  As soon as Eva sat down, though, Bri climbed up into her lap and went after her bandana, which Bri obviously mistook for a teething toy. Lyla finally took her and carted her off to get ready for bed, returning some time later with the baby outfitted in ruffled pink footed pajamas.

  “You’re too cute,” Eva told her, kissing both her round cheeks.

  “And she knows it,” Morgan said happily, taking her from Eva and passing her to Brooks, who now sat on the floor with his back to the sofa next to Eva’s legs.

  He perched Bri on his knees and bounced her up and down before kissing her in the middle of her forehead and handing her off to her mom, who settled down in the rocker right there in the room and tucked the baby tightly against her with a light blanket. Morgan lowered the lights in the room, and they all spoke in softer tones, but unlike most parents, they didn’t take Bri away and put her down in a room by herself. Obviously Morgan and Lyla wanted their daughter to be a very present part of their lives, and she seemed used to it, so much so that she slipped right off to sleep in only a few minutes. Lyla kept the child with her until she grew tired of holding her, then she finally rose and carried the baby to her bed.

  Morgan smiled at Eva and explained. “Lyla had cancer and had to have a hysterectomy. We feared we’d never have children, but God was preparing Bri for us all along. We can hardly bear to miss a moment with her, even when she’s sleeping. Plus, we know this stage is short and we’ll soon be sharing her with friends and school and the rest of the world.”

  Tears suddenly swam in Eva’s eyes. She missed those baby years so much. She missed everything! She had to look away.

  Lyla walked back into the room just then and resumed her seat in the rocker. Looking from Eva to Brooks to Morgan and back again, she carefully asked, “Were you planning to be in church tomorrow, Eva?”

  Brooks leaned his head back against the seat cushion of the sofa, looking up at her. Eva cleared her throat and said, “Yes.”

  Lifting his head, Brooks said, “I’ll take her.” He leaned his head back again, explaining, “Chester and Hilda go to a different church, and I’m not sure what the aunties’ plan is for tomorrow.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  Lyla said, “We’ll see you there, then. Maybe we can make plans for later this week. Just us girls. Lunch? How does that sound?”

  “I’d like that,” Eva said. After she got her test results, she’d know whether it would be a celebration or an attempt to keep up her spirits.

  By the time Brooks drove her home, surprisingly late, Eva felt that she’d made a true friend in Lyla. She attempted to discuss the flowchart she was drawing up for the office, but Brooks professed to be too tired to give it his attention just then and said they’d discuss it at work. Because she wasn’t anywhere near to completing it, anyway, she let the matter drop and instead heard herself say, “Morgan and Lyla are really crazy about Bri, aren’t they?”

  “They’re insane about that kid,” Brooks retorted.

  Eva grinned. “Can you blame them? She’s adorable.”

  “To tell you the truth,” he admitted sheepishly, “I’m kind of jealous.”

  “Of Bri?” Eva exclaimed. “She’s a baby!”

  “No. Of Morgan.” He shot her a glance. “I’m happy that Morgan’s happy. He’s waited a long time for this. And I have no designs on Lyla. But he suddenly has Lyla and Bri, and I’m just realizing that maybe what I have had isn’t enough anymore.” Brooks shook his head. “All these years, what Brigitte and I had was enough, and then suddenly there was little Bri, her namesake, and somehow Brigitte is the past, and it isn’t enough anymore.” He shrugged. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

  “Not at all,” Eva said. “I think everyone wants a family of their own. I always did.”

  “Do,” he corrected. “Don’t talk about yourself in the past tense. You’re not dead, and you may not be dying any more than anyone else.”

  She nodded and let the conversation end there. They could have this conversation when the test results came in. Only one more day, hopefully, to get through before then. She thanked him for the ride home and, knowing full well that he’d engineered the dinner invitation, for a lovely evening, and went off to bed pleasantly exhausted.

  To her surprise, she slept relatively well and rose the next morning glad for something with which to occupy her time. She took care dressing for church and went downstairs with the white wool cape draped over one arm.

  Brooks sat at the breakfast table looking gorgeous in a black suit and pale gray shirt and tie. Sunday meals at Chatam House were, in Hilda’s own words, “catch as catch can,” because the staff had the day off, but Hilda had left a basket full of her scrumptious ginger rolls and a bowl of fruit. Eva “caught” two rolls, buttered them and gobbled them down with her coffee, much to Brooks’s amusement.

  “Laugh at me if you want,” she said loftily as he escorted her out to his car, “but those things are irresistible.”

  “I know,” he returned smoothly. “I had four while I waited for you to come downstairs.”

  “Glutton,” she teased.

  “Guilty as charged,” he admitted, grinning unrepentantly.

  They bantered all the way to church, which proved to be a fresh revelation. The Chatams showed up en masse, and it was announced from the pulpit that Hypatia had been moved from ICU to a regular room. The worship service felt like a joyous celebration after that. God had never felt so real to Eva, and she prayed silently for Hypatia, Ricky, Brooks and herself during the service before listening to the sermon with sincere interest. Yet, she came away feeling somehow lacking, not quite a part of the whole. She barely had time to ponder that matter, however, as the family swept her into their dinner preparations.

  With anxiety over her test results returning, Eva wasn’t really hungry, but Magnolia and Odelia had arranged a kind of family potluck, and Brooks came along to make what everyone called his “famous apple tea,” which turned out to be strong iced tea sweetened with organic apple juice and a touch of honey. It really tasted quite good, and just working with the family to put together the meal kept Eva too busy to ponder or worry. Only when she heard Murdock say quietly to Brooks that he’d done the research and was ready to make a recommendation on a neurosurgeon did she realize what was actually going on.

  “You’re all here for me,” she blurted in the midst of laying the table, “because of my tests.” The hubbub in the dining room immediately stilled, and all eyes turned her way. “Hypatia is out of danger now, isn’t she? This isn’t about her, is it?”

  Brooks stepped forward. “Hypatia is doing well,” he confirmed. “She will move to the hospital here tomorrow.”

  “We just wanted to help you keep your mind off those test results, dear,” Magnolia said.

  Tears filled Eva’s eyes. She wanted to thank everyone, but she couldn’t ignore the implications of Murdock’s comment. Neither could she forget all that her mother and sister had gone through. Some of their treatments had been as bad
or worse than their diseases.

  “You’re talking about surgery.”

  Brooks glanced at Murdock before slipping his arms around her. “Let’s just wait for the report, sweetheart.”

  “You know more than you’re telling me,” she whispered against his shoulder.

  “I told you to expect good news and that you’d have to make some decisions,” he answered softly, “but let’s wait for the report. All right? Just another day or so.”

  Eva stiffened her spine, but still she trembled against him. “This is me expecting good news,” she quipped, hanging on to him, “terrified by the possibility of good news. You should see me with bad news. I’m great with that!”

  “It’s all right, Eva,” Brooks told her, holding her tight. “You’re not alone.”

  And she wasn’t. These people cared for her. So many people, a new feeling for her. Her mother and sister had only had her—and her bitter, hateful aunt. She felt Magnolia’s gnarled hand touch her shoulder, and then another hand beside hers and another and another and another...they crowded around, quiet and caring. Eva’s tears spilled over. Hubner began to speak in a raspy but authoritative voice.

  “Lord, our sister Eva needs Your strength and healing...”

  She had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing with bittersweet joy as their prayers flowed around her and winged heavenward.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I told you it was good news,” Brooks said.

  Perching on the corner of his desk, he watched as Eva read the printed report from the chair that she herself had rearranged during her organizational spree, her pale head bent over the file folder. He had prayed much and discussed seriously with Murdock about whether to let her see the full report or to present her with a condensed, best scenario version. With any other patient, he’d have presented an oral report and made a firm recommendation, but Eva was different. For one thing, her understanding of medical issues superseded that of most patients. For another, he was more than half in love with her. And he had been down this road before. He had never sugarcoated anything for Brigitte, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it for Eva. He had to be honest with her and hope she’d give herself, them, a chance.

  It had been an eventful day filled with patients, seeing Hypatia settled into her room at the hospital across the street. And now this. The report had come in just after lunch, but he’d kept it until the end of the day so they could have privacy and time in which to discuss it.

  “A cyst,” she finally said, placing the open file on the desk. “And you think a cyst like this may have killed my mother.”

  “It’s possible. We can’t know for sure. We won’t even know exactly what we’re dealing with in this case until we get in there and see what kind of cyst it is.”

  Eva sat back and crossed her arms. “They told Mom that her tumor, cyst, whatever, was inoperable.”

  “It likely was. Then. Or hers may have been positioned differently. It’s impossible to tell at this point. Yours, though, is accessible. We need to remove it, biopsy it just to be thorough, and go from there.”

  “Why not just biopsy it first?”

  “There’s no point in that. We need to excise the mass. We can biopsy the tissue just to be sure we know what we’re dealing with, but if it’s a cyst of the type we suspect, and chances are very high that it is, it has to come out. Medication alone won’t take care of it.”

  “This report says that there’s an eighty percent possibility of getting it all,” she pointed out.

  “If we don’t get it all, we can kill the remaining tissue with radiation and medication. If we find cancer, which I do not expect, we can think about chemo, but the chances of that are very, very slim.”

  “And if I go through all this, you don’t get it all, and it is cancer?” she asked.

  All he could do was repeat what he’d already said. “In my opinion, the chances of it being cancer are very, very slim.”

  “And if I don’t do it?”

  “You’re going to die. Could be a year. Could be months. Could be weeks. I can’t predict how soon but far sooner than you should.”

  She nodded, reached out and closed the file. “I’ll get back to you.”

  He came up off the corner of the desk. “Get back to me? Eva, we need to schedule this surgery ASAP.”

  She leaped to her feet, both forefingers going to her temples. “You’re talking about opening my skull and cutting into my brain! I read the report. There are no guarantees. Even if the surgery is successful, I could have brain damage. I need to think about this.”

  “Fine,” he snapped. “You think about it. Just try not to die while you’re at it!” With that he turned and walked out of his own office.

  He’d known she was going to be difficult about this! Why had he let himself care so much? How did he stop now? Didn’t she realize that without this she had no chance, they had no chance? Would she really ask him to love another dying woman? Would God really ask him to love another dying woman? He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it.

  * * *

  “It’s all good news,” Magnolia said, sitting back with a sigh and lifting her teacup. She sipped delicately and smiled at an unusually glum Eva. Apparently things were not going well between Eva and Brooks; that or they were going too well for the good doctor’s comfort. “Hypatia is improving every day,” Magnolia went on. “It’s painful, I’m sure, but she never complains and insists that she’ll be home in record time.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Eva told her, “but this was only her fourth day out of ICU, and I suspect Brooks will want her to stay in the hospital at least until the end of the week.”

  “We’ll let him fight that battle,” Magnolia advised sagely. “Whenever she comes home, we will be prepared, though, and I appreciate your help with that, dear.”

  “Oh, I haven’t done anything. Brooks told me to make a list of private therapists for you to interview, and that was all I did.”

  “Ah,” Magnolia said, sipping her tea.

  “Actually,” Eva went on after a moment, her tone bright, “Brooks hasn’t spoken a word to me in over twenty-four hours, not since he dropped me off after work on Monday.”

  “Hmm,” Magnolia hummed. She’d known that Brooks had asked Chester to drive Eva to and from work today. Apparently he was not happy with his transcriptionist just now, and Eva’s overly jolly announcement proclaimed her culpability in the matter. Interesting. “Well, I’m sure he’s just busy.”

  “I’m sure he’s mad as a wet hen,” Eva muttered, but Magnolia pretended not to hear her.

  “You suggested the hospital bed, the recliner and the bath seat,” Magnolia said. “That was very helpful.”

  “It’s just basic protocol,” Eva protested, shaking her head, but Magnolia waved away her self-deprecation.

  “Perhaps, but none of us would have thought of those things. It’s been a long time since we’ve dealt with an invalid in this household, and we didn’t have access to all these amenities back then. Kent has ordered everything you suggested, and Chester and I will interview the therapists on the list you’ve compiled. We’ve already hired a nurse recommended by our niece Kaylie, so we’ll be fully prepared whenever Hypatia arrives.”

  “That’s good,” Eva warbled, her voice not quite as bright as before. “Can’t have Silk-and-Pearls languishing in a flat bed and taking sponge baths for weeks on end.”

  Magnolia chuckled. “No, indeed. Now,” she said, setting aside her teacup, “would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  Eva shot her a surprised glance then put on her old, cheeky demeanor. “Hmm, let me think.” She tapped her chin with a slender forefinger. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got this time bomb ticking inside my head.”

  Magnolia folded her hands, regarding the younger woman shrewdly. “
I notice that you no longer call it a tumor.”

  Eva sighed. “I don’t know what it is. No one does.”

  “What does Brooks say?” Magnolia wanted to know.

  “He thinks it’s a cyst.”

  “But you don’t agree?”

  Eva merely stared into her cup for several seconds, then she shrugged. “I don’t know. I only know that my mother tried every treatment the doctors offered her, and she suffered terribly. And then she died anyway.” She turned an agony-filled gaze on Magnolia. “It was the same for my sister. They cut on her and cut on her and cut on her. Every time they thought they got it all, and every time, the cancer returned. Her cancer was so aggressive that her doctors encouraged me to have radical mastectomies even though I had no signs of malignancy.”

  “Oh, Eva, I’m sorry,” Magnolia said with all sincerity. What horrors this child had seen. It broke Magnolia’s heart. “I didn’t realize. But, dear, don’t you see that God has already protected you from your sister’s disease?”

  “But why didn’t he protect her?” Eva demanded. “Why couldn’t He save Ava?”

  “I can’t answer that,” Magnolia replied honestly. “Did you ask Him to? Did she?”

  Eva shook her head. “Not really. No.”

  “Don’t you see that with the advances in science that God has given us and your growing faith, this could all be very different for you?” Magnolia asked.

  “But what if the doctors are wrong?” Eva whispered.

  “What if they aren’t?” Magnolia returned. “Ask yourself this, dear. Do you really think Brooks would steer you wrong?”

  Eva frowned. “I’m not Brigitte.”

  “Does that mean you think you’re just another patient to Brooks?” Magnolia asked. “Or that he would do less for one than another?”

  Turning up her hands, Eva shrugged at the same time that she shook her head.

  Magnolia made a sound of frustration. “Eva Belle Russell! There’s no such thing as just another patient to Brooks Leland, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be one of them.”