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Authors: Julie Lessman
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peer through the thick hedge between Ben Carmichael’s patio and hers. Her heart thumped at the sound of a screen door sliding closed as Ben’s black lab Beau streaked into his backyard.
Saving her patient’s call history in the Hope Hospice & Healthcare file, Tess closed the computer and rose from her comfy patio chaise, never more grateful that she could work from home as an RN. Not only did it give her the opportunity to arrange her schedule to be home for her children, but it offered the chance to catch her elusive neighbor on his day off before he and Beau left to go fishing. Her lips quirked. A neighbor who’d taken great pains to avoid her for almost eight years despite her attempts to restore the friendship. Well, no more. The time had come for Dr. Ben Carmichael—chief cardiac surgeon at Memorial Health—to have a little heart surgery of his own. She carried both her computer and her cell phone inside and placed them on the kitchen table with a heavy sigh. No, it was beyond time, she decided. Not only for her children to forgive and forget regarding Lacey and her family, but for Lacey’s father to forgive and forget regarding Tess’s family as well.
Not to mention his daughter.
Peeking at the pretty painted-wood blue heron clock the kids gave her for Christmas, Tess retrieved the Tupperware container of monster cookies she’d hidden in the pantry. Three fifteen—good heavens, she could set her watch by the man! She ducked into the fridge to retrieve two pieces of fried bacon, silently blessing Jack for taking Davey fishing on his day off. Since Matt had baseball practice with his summer league and Shan and Cat had a teacher’s meeting at the school where they taught, she was home free.
Because that meant nobody was home to question her sanity as to why she was carrying a container of cookies, two pieces of bacon, and a UPS package to “Dr. Doom” next door. She nibbled on the edge of her smile. A nickname coined by her children after Ben Carmichael turned his back on her family, erecting a wall—and a hedge barrier—between his former neighbors and friends. The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree , she thought when Lacey came to mind, but it was far past time the fruit was washed and dewormed to make it healthy again.
Container in hand, Tess plopped it on the UPS box with the bacon on top, a stiff smile on her face as she pushed through the screen door of the plantation-style house that had been in her family for years. Ben Carmichael received packages from UPS all the time, but when the UPS man had knocked on Tess’s door today, requiring a signature—a rarity in itself—she’d known it was a sign. The one she’d prayed for since Lacey had brought Davey home three days ago.
Careful to close the screen door quietly behind her, she bolstered her confidence with a deep draw of air. The sweet scent of honeysuckle wrapped around her like the pillared front porch wrapped around the charming two-story house, its white wood planking and Cape Cod blue shutters desperately in need of a coat of paint. Stained tarps and cans of paint were neatly stacked between the peeling porch swing and pretty stone urns spilling ivy and purple petunias, all lying in wait for Jack to work his magic. Shoulders square, Tess carefully made her way down her cobblestone drive to skirt the hedge Ben had paid big bucks for after his divorce. Her mouth pressed into a tight smile as she said a quick prayer.
Okay, God, now to work a little magic of Your own …
Apparently Beau could sniff her—or the bacon—a mile away. His low-throated growls morphed into pathetic squeals through Ben’s wood-slatted fence, the chocolate eyes following her every move while his tale tick-tocked like the metronome on Shannon’s piano. Tess grinned—beautiful music, indeed, the sweet and welcome whine of an oversized Labrador puppy who used to nudge her screen door whenever she’d fried bacon for breakfast. Of course, that was
Saving her patient’s call history in the Hope Hospice & Healthcare file, Tess closed the computer and rose from her comfy patio chaise, never more grateful that she could work from home as an RN. Not only did it give her the opportunity to arrange her schedule to be home for her children, but it offered the chance to catch her elusive neighbor on his day off before he and Beau left to go fishing. Her lips quirked. A neighbor who’d taken great pains to avoid her for almost eight years despite her attempts to restore the friendship. Well, no more. The time had come for Dr. Ben Carmichael—chief cardiac surgeon at Memorial Health—to have a little heart surgery of his own. She carried both her computer and her cell phone inside and placed them on the kitchen table with a heavy sigh. No, it was beyond time, she decided. Not only for her children to forgive and forget regarding Lacey and her family, but for Lacey’s father to forgive and forget regarding Tess’s family as well.
Not to mention his daughter.
Peeking at the pretty painted-wood blue heron clock the kids gave her for Christmas, Tess retrieved the Tupperware container of monster cookies she’d hidden in the pantry. Three fifteen—good heavens, she could set her watch by the man! She ducked into the fridge to retrieve two pieces of fried bacon, silently blessing Jack for taking Davey fishing on his day off. Since Matt had baseball practice with his summer league and Shan and Cat had a teacher’s meeting at the school where they taught, she was home free.
Because that meant nobody was home to question her sanity as to why she was carrying a container of cookies, two pieces of bacon, and a UPS package to “Dr. Doom” next door. She nibbled on the edge of her smile. A nickname coined by her children after Ben Carmichael turned his back on her family, erecting a wall—and a hedge barrier—between his former neighbors and friends. The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree , she thought when Lacey came to mind, but it was far past time the fruit was washed and dewormed to make it healthy again.
Container in hand, Tess plopped it on the UPS box with the bacon on top, a stiff smile on her face as she pushed through the screen door of the plantation-style house that had been in her family for years. Ben Carmichael received packages from UPS all the time, but when the UPS man had knocked on Tess’s door today, requiring a signature—a rarity in itself—she’d known it was a sign. The one she’d prayed for since Lacey had brought Davey home three days ago.
Careful to close the screen door quietly behind her, she bolstered her confidence with a deep draw of air. The sweet scent of honeysuckle wrapped around her like the pillared front porch wrapped around the charming two-story house, its white wood planking and Cape Cod blue shutters desperately in need of a coat of paint. Stained tarps and cans of paint were neatly stacked between the peeling porch swing and pretty stone urns spilling ivy and purple petunias, all lying in wait for Jack to work his magic. Shoulders square, Tess carefully made her way down her cobblestone drive to skirt the hedge Ben had paid big bucks for after his divorce. Her mouth pressed into a tight smile as she said a quick prayer.
Okay, God, now to work a little magic of Your own …
Apparently Beau could sniff her—or the bacon—a mile away. His low-throated growls morphed into pathetic squeals through Ben’s wood-slatted fence, the chocolate eyes following her every move while his tale tick-tocked like the metronome on Shannon’s piano. Tess grinned—beautiful music, indeed, the sweet and welcome whine of an oversized Labrador puppy who used to nudge her screen door whenever she’d fried bacon for breakfast. Of course, that was
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