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Authors: Nicole Lane

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BOOK: Playing All the Angles
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When she arrived, Alora was running around in a twitter. “Can you believe I forgot that Una’s got a party today? Could you be a love and keep an eye on Olive while I deliver her?” She grabbed her purse and Una’s hand. “I won’t be an hour. We just have to run to get a pressie for her little friend, and then I’ll drop her by the party. Olive’s ready to go down for a nap at any time, aren’t you, lamb chop? Do you mind?”

Isabelle laughingly shrugged. “Not at all. Olive and I will have a great time.”

Alora was out the door and gone with a breathless, “Thank you!” and Isabelle bent and scooped Olive up off the floor, tickling her as they went up the stairs.

Olive’s bedroom was done in butterflies with green fields painted on the walls. It was lovely. Isabelle wondered if she would have daughters or sons and what they would end up wanting in their rooms. Her niece began to squirm and asked to be put down, so Isabelle set her down on the play mat. If Olive was tired, she didn’t show it. If anything, she seemed to want to bask in the undivided attention of her aunt. She kept bringing things to Isabelle to play with, and they would play for a while before she scurried off for something else. Finally, after all the stuffed animals had received proper attention, Olive pointed to the shelves above her bed.

“Buh-fly,” she said, indicating the brightly colored butterfly on the middle shelf. Isabelle recognized it as the bank that Olive had received on her first birthday the year before. It was one of those mechanical ones that lit up and played a tune when coins were put into it.

“You want to watch the butterfly light up?” Isabelle asked, standing to reach for the bank when Olive nodded and clapped.

Isabelle dug into her jeans pocket for some change and came up with a few coins to feed into the slot. She put one in, and the butterfly played its tinking song, the lights popping and fading in time to the music. Olive squealed with delight, and Isabelle couldn’t help but laugh.

“You want to try?” she asked, offering one of the coins to Olive.

She nodded and took the coin, considering it for a moment before lifting it toward her mouth.

“No, Olive, give it to the butterfly,” Isabelle said, indicating the slot.

She did as she was told, and the butterfly repeated its show.

“One more,” Isabelle said, giving the coin to the girl, who took it and popped it into her mouth without hesitation. “No! Spit that out!”

She reached for her, but Olive leaned back, turning her head from side to side to keep from allowing Isabelle to get her mouth open. A second later, Olive was choking, and Isabelle got hold of her, forcing her mouth open and searching for the coin. It wasn’t in there.

“Oh, no, Olive,” she cried, patting the girl on the back as she struggled for breath. It took only another moment before her airway cleared and she could breathe again, but her face had gone red, and she was crying.

“Okay, all right,” Isabelle said, scooping her up. “We’re going to take you to the doctor.”

“Buh-fly,” Olive cried as Isabelle hurried from the room. “My buh-fly! Buh-fly!”

If she hadn’t been so worried, Isabelle might have laughed at the little girl’s single-mindedness. She grabbed her bag and the keys to her car and was momentarily stumped by the lack of a child seat. “They’ll get over it,” she said aloud, making the choice to put Olive in the front seat and buckle her in there. “And if we get pulled over, we’ll just ask for an escort to the hospital.”

Olive sniffled and whined but seemed otherwise all right. Still, Isabelle had no idea what a swallowed coin would do to a child and wasn’t about to find out on her own. As she drove, she rang Alora and left her a voice mail explaining the situation. “I’m taking her to Sacred Heart Emergency. Come find us when you can.”

She drove as fast as she dared but carefully, all the while trying to soothe Olive until they arrived at the hospital. She parked in Emergency and went through the sliding doors to reception, where a nurse greeted her almost immediately. Isabelle explained what had happened, and the nurse took down notes on a clipboard.

“We’ll get you into a room, and I’ll page pediatrics,” she said, standing and directing Isabelle into one of the cubicles off the reception area. “She should be fine, but they’ll want to take a look.”

“Thank you,” Isabelle breathed, taking Olive along with her.

It seemed hours until the curtain was pulled back on the room she was in, and a young-looking doctor entered the room, reading a chart. “Miss Olive?” he asked, addressing the child first, and Isabelle felt her heart stop beating. “I’m Dr. Goodwin.” Then he looked up and froze. “Isabelle?”

“Patrick?”

They stared at one another for a moment before he shook himself back to business. “She swallowed a coin?” He had his stethoscope out and leaned in to give Olive a listen.

“A coin. Just one. She…eats things.”

“They all do. How old is she?”

“Nearly two. She’s Alora’s youngest.”

“Oh!” He went pale and flushed in rapid succession, then focused on Olive again. After an examination, he shrugged at Isabelle. “It will work its way out. It isn’t really a worry, and she’ll sort her own self out soon. There aren’t any markings on her throat, so no cutting there, and all her vitals are perfect. Ah…how are you?”

“Relieved,” she said. “This is a surprise. I didn’t know you’d given up the priesthood.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it didn’t feel right after all. I went into medicine instead.”

“Pediatrics, I presume?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Always loved kids, and I want to help people.”

“That’s great, Patrick. Your parents must be proud.”

He shrugged. “Mum’s just glad she’s still got a chance for grandchildren,” he said, chuckling. “What about you? Did you finish university?”

Isabelle nodded. “I’m a teaching assistant and taking my certification classes right now. The semester’s just finished. Where did you do medical school?”

“Cyprus. Through St. Georges, London. I’m just an intern.”

“That’s fantastic. I’m…happy for you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I heard you were living with someone. When I got back from school, I…well, you were living with someone.” Glancing down at her hand, he said, “And married now?”

“Married soon. Yeah. We’ve been together for just over two years.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. We’re happy. I’m happy. You? Married?”

He laughed. “Ah, no. When things started shifting with the vocational callings, I got permission from the Church to continue with med school while I worked toward my vows. They’re hurting for priests, so they’ll bend over backwards. And when I decided I just wasn’t cut for the cloth, I went headfirst into studies. I may as well be a monk. I live in abject poverty, chastity, and complete obedience to my chief attending. Just, I got a white coat instead of black.”

“I’m sure that will change once you’ve cleared your residency,” she replied, glancing at Olive, who was watching Patrick with unabashed interest.

“The poverty and obedience bit, perhaps,” he said, jesting. “I don’t have much time to do anything else.”

“But it’s all worthwhile. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy, Patrick.”

They stood, smiling shyly at each other, when Alora’s voice broke the silence and the curtain was thrown back.

“Olive? Oh, my God! Darling, are you all right?” she cried, scooping the child up in her arms.

“Buh-fly,” Olive sobbed, throwing herself into her mother’s neck.

“Doctor—” Alora whipped around, a stream of questions flying and then slowing. “Patrick?”

“It’s him.” Isabelle nodded.

“Patrick! You’re a doctor?”

“It was that or priest,” he tried to joke.

“Is my daughter all right?” she asked, still staring at him.

“Yes, she’s fine. She swallowed a coin, but there’s no damage. It isn’t lodged in her esophagus, so it should work its way out of her system on its own,” he assured her.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Alora clucked, hugging Olive tighter before returning her attention to him. “How long have you been back in England?”

“About six months,” he said, glancing toward Isabelle.

“Why didn’t you let anyone know?”

“Lora,” Isabelle chided. “He’s been working on his residency. The man barely has time to breathe, much less catch up with old friends.”

“Old friends?” Alora cried. “We’re family!”

Patrick smiled. “Yes, you are. And I’m sure you know I wanted to contact you, but my hours make it difficult.”

“You silly thing.” Alora swatted his arm. “Come round for dinner some time. Doyle would love to see you.”

“You know who’d love to see you?” Isabelle said suddenly. “Evie.”

“Evie threw eggs at me before I left!” Patrick laughed, shaking his head. “I hardly think that was love.”

“She just did what we all wanted to.” Isabelle chuckled. “But she’d still love to see you. She always adored you.”

“Well, tell her hello.”

“I’m expecting again,” Alora announced. “We could be persuaded to change pediatricians if you’re practicing here.”

“I’m just in my internship.” Patrick shook his head. “I can’t take patients just yet. Give me a few years.”

“You let me know,” she said, patting his arm. “I’m sure there will be others. Thank you for looking after Olive for me.”

“Of course. It was good to see you again.”

She smiled in response and pulled back the curtain. “Coming, Isabelle?”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Alora looked back, her expression questioning, but she uncharacteristically didn’t say what she was thinking before walking out.

Her footsteps receded before Isabelle said, “Sorry about that. You know how she is.”

“She hasn’t changed much,” Patrick agreed with a shrug. “It was still good to see her.”

She nodded. “I still can’t quite believe you’re here.”

“That makes two of us,” he replied, blushing. “I’ve missed you, Isabelle.”

“I missed you too. I’m really glad you’re doing so well,” she said, laying a light touch on his arm. “And I meant what I said about Evie. Once she finds out you’re back, you won’t have any excuse.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re the one I’d like to catch up with,” he said. “Do you think we could have lunch?” He held his hands up. “Just old friends.”

Isabelle considered and then nodded. “Sure. You ring me when you’re free.” She took the pen from the clipboard and wrote her number on the card he handed her. “I’ll be out of town from next Wednesday for two weeks, but after that.”

“Brilliant.” He grinned. “Really, really good to see you. You look fantastic. Better than ever.”

She smiled and teased, “You look like you need a nap and a sackful of sandwiches, but that’s still quite nice. Thank you for your help with Olive.”

“My pleasure, but—”

Isabelle halted on her way out.

He lowered his voice. “Who the hell named that child?”

She snorted out a laugh. “The older one’s called Una, and if this next one is a girl, she’ll be Yulia. Alora did it because of vowels. She’s A. Evie’s E. I’m I. So, now she’s got O and U, and if this one’s a girl, sometimes Y. If it’s a boy, I have no idea what they’ll do. Doyle Junior.”

“Ah, like I said, she hasn’t changed much, has she?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Gotta love her anyway. Bye, Dr. Goodwin.”

“Bye, Miss D’Amico.”

Alora was waiting for her when she came out. “Patrick’s a doctor! A single doctor. A single doctor who was staring at you like he was starving and you were a ham. Dump Dominic and go get yourself a doctor.”

Isabelle laughed. “Lora! That’s horrible. I love Dominic. I thought you loved him too.”

“I do. It’s just that you and Patrick were always such a golden couple. You and Dominic are a lovely couple, but not the same magic you were with Patrick.”

“Who left me for God, remember? At least I know that won’t happen with Dominic.”

“From one extreme to another. But you have to admit, Patrick was something special.”

“And Patrick thought his God was more special than I was. I know where I stand with Dominic—no invisible men hiding up his sleeve. Now hush. Take Olive home and be glad she only swallowed the one thing. I’ve got to get finished up with some work before I head to Paris.”

“What’s in Paris?”

“Dominic has a race.”

“Oh, see, if you decided to take Patrick back, you wouldn’t have to worry about him killing himself all the time.”

“Goodbye, Alora.” Isabelle sighed. “I’ll see you soon.” She gave Olive a quick peck on the head and then hurried off toward her car. She didn’t check her watch until she was safely inside and saw that it was already the middle of the afternoon. She had to get moving and go pick up the paperwork for the trip.

Chapter 7

T
HE
L
ATE
A
FTERNOON
S
UN
was filtering into the workshop where Eve and her favorite seamstress were working on a dress Marcus had designed. He was long past putting his own patterns together and simply did his designing and then handed off the rest for Eve to deliver. They worked well together, Eve and Marcus, almost like one person in two bodies.

BOOK: Playing All the Angles
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