Man of Her Dreams Read online

  It was a tough decision, what Ry should do while he waited in the physicians’ lounge for his father to finish rounds. If he tried to read one of the professional journals, he would surely fall asleep. The same thing would happen if he stretched out on that comfortable-looking couch. That was not the way he wanted his dad to find him.

  But if he poured himself a cup of coffee and paced the room, he would make himself even more nervous than he already was.

  Unless God came to his rescue.

  Ry poured the coffee, amazed that once again, he’d been stupid enough to work on the options before thinking of turning to the Lord. He’d prayed about this. The Lord would take care of it if Ry didn’t try to do His job.

  Sipping the coffee, he moved about the room, reading notices on the bulletin board, noting that the large plant by the window could use water and wondering why his dad was making rounds on New Year’s Day. Other doctors of James T. Brennan’s stature would take the day off and let a resident fill in.

  Admittedly, his dad did have a great work ethic, old-school values and a high opinion of his own work that kept him from trusting others, but after what Ry had seen last night, he wondered if Dad didn’t welcome a reason to get out of the house.

  Why hadn’t his father gotten medical treatment for Mom? Or why hadn’t Trey, Beth or the uncles? All of them had to see that something was wrong.

  Unless his mother was only that way when he was around. He poured the rest of his coffee down the drain and tossed the disposable cup into the trash can. Could he bear it if that was the case?

  It would, of course, be better for his mother. Discard the second son and experience instant healing. Now, that would make a great medical journal article.

  He sank down onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable. What difference would a good impression make on his dad? In the long run, it would end the same, and he could use a nap.

  “Ry?”

  Ry woke to the feel of his father’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Sorry,” he said, swinging his feet to the floor, instantly awake and ready for anything. It came natural after years of long shifts and catching naps when he could.

  “I’m glad you got some rest,” his dad said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “It was good of you to wait. One of my patients couldn’t.”

  That would account for the scrubs his dad wore and the bone-weary look in his eyes. “Is your patient okay?”

  “He will be.”

  “That’s got to be a good feeling.” The best thing about Ry’s work was knowing he’d relieved someone’s pain or actually saved a life. The worst thing was not being able to do more. It frustrated him more every year.

  “Do you like your work, Ry?”

  It surprised Ry that his dad would ask, though when he thought about it, it was more his mom who always implied that any calling less than an M.D. was a life wasted. His dad seldom expressed an opinion on anything.

  “I like it very much,” he said, proud of his work.

  “Good. Excellent.” His dad rolled his shoulders, stretching muscles made taut from standing in one position too long. “Ry, I want to talk to you about your mother.”

  Ry tensed, but he wanted that, too.

  Another physician entered the room, also wearing scrubs. “Mind if I turn on the TV,” the man said, turning it on as he spoke and flipping past the Rose Bowl parade to CNN where the announcer was reporting an avalanche in the Rockies. This was important news, but not to Ry, not now.

  His father motioned Ry to follow him from the lounge. “Let’s find a room where we can talk privately.”

  The waiting room for families was unoccupied. Ry followed his dad in there and took the chair offered.

  “You know I’m not good with words,” his father said.

  “Neither am I,” Ry agreed.

  “I need to explain what happened last night,” his father said, “or try to. I was terribly upset by your mother’s behavior.”

  “It was my fault for showing up unexpectedly,” Ry said immediately, taking the blame. He would say anything to ease the worry on his father’s face.

  “No, hear me out.” His dad spoke firmly. “It is important to me that you know it is not your fault.”

  Ry swallowed hard. When his dad spoke that assertively, who could argue?

  “If there’s any fault here, it’s mine,” his dad continued. “In the beginning, I was caught up in my work, and it was easier to let Deborah raise you children and run our lives. She made my life very…convenient, and I took advantage of that. In return, I gave her free rein.”

  It felt so strange, hearing his father explain what Ry had experienced when he was too young to understand.

  “Do you remember Deborah’s parents?”

  Ry nodded. He’d hated Grandpa Hamilton, but Grandma Rose had been the most loving person in his world, and her death was the greatest loss of his life. She’d made him believe that he counted.

  “Rylander Hamilton was a selfish, difficult man,” his father said, bitterness edging the words. “Your mother lived to please him, but she couldn’t. Nobody could.”

  That was how Ry remembered the man.

  “When Deborah wanted to give you her father’s name, I thought there was no more behind it than the same respect we had shown to my father, carrying on his name when Trey was born. Until the day she ordered you out of the house for refusing to follow her father’s footsteps, I had no idea how obsessed she was about that. You were never like him, Ry. I don’t know how she got the idea that you would be, and I am so sorry. I should have stood up for you then. I should have stood up a lot of times.”

  With his head bent, his elbows resting on his knees, his father was the picture of regret. There was no questioning the sincerity of his words. If his father had been a stranger, Ry would have put his arm around those bent shoulders and said that everything was going to be okay, but he couldn’t remember ever exchanging more than a handshake with his dad.

  They couldn’t go back, and it did little good to rehash those terrible scenes of his teen years. Just once, though, he’d like to know why his father hadn’t stood up for him.

  “Did you feel the same way, Dad? Were you just as angry with me for not following in your footsteps?”

  “No!” His father straightened and looked him square in the eyes. “I was proud of you for standing up for yourself. I hated it when Deborah compared you to your brother and her father. Neither of them are standards by which you should be measured. You’re a better man than either of them.”

  The sting of tears made Ry look away. Even if he’d had the words to say how much that meant to him, the lump in his throat wouldn’t have let him.

  “I should have stopped it,” his father muttered, standing and pacing the narrow room, “but life was easier for all of us when Deborah got her way. She was stronger than I was. She still is.”

  “Why didn’t Mom become a doctor herself if she wanted to please Grandpa Hamilton?”

  “Rylander was old-school. He wanted Deborah to marry a doctor, not be one. She was trained to be the perfect doctor’s wife, which she is, most of the time.”

  “Dad, Mom’s mood swings last night… What was that?”

  His dad nodded grimly. “As long as she gets her way, Deborah functions more or less normally. Most of the time, she does get her way.”

  Ry could hardly blame his dad for that. After all, Ry had chosen to live across the country rather than oppose her.

  “Years ago,” his father said, “the medicine that might have controlled Deborah’s ‘swings’ had such unpleasant side effects, she would have no part of it. There are better meds now, and she could benefit if she would cooperate, but can you imagine convincing her of that?”

  Ry thought he’d have better luck convincing a drug addict that his next overdose might be his last.

  “Ry,” his father said, unexpectedly putting a hand on his arm, “tell me how I can make it up to you.”

&nbs
p; If Ry hadn’t been seated, he would need a chair. Overwhelmed, he couldn’t have stood. This was what he’d prayed for and why he made the trip. If it weren’t such a Brennan taboo, he’d have broken down and wept in his father’s arms.

  “There’s nothing to ‘make up’ for, Dad.” It was such an insignificant, little response for the powerful emotion he was feeling, but it was all he could manage. “When I became a Christian last year, I realized I had some changing to do. It’s taken me this long to conquer the old rebellion and come back to make things right.”

  The two of them were quite a pair, neither very good at this kind of thing, but both of them trying. His dad’s grip on his arm tightened. “I’m glad you’re here, son.”

  His dad would never known how much that meant to Ry.

  “If it’s not too late, I’d like to be part of your future, Ry.”

  Ry had to smile. “You may get to be a bigger part of my future than you imagined,” he said, enjoying the moment. “Get ready to say ‘I told you so,’ Dad.”

  “I can’t imagine saying that,” his dad said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

  “I told you I liked my work,” Ry began, “and I do, but it’s time to move on.”

  “Many paramedics do.”

  His dad was right. Most paramedics didn’t retire from the job. The money wasn’t great, but the stress was. Many of the paramedics he’d known had gone on to become cops or firefighters. Others became nurses or went into teaching, administration or sales.

  “I’ve been praying about the next step,” Ry said. “It means going back to school…med school.”

  His dad’s jaw dropped as Ry expected, and then he grinned from ear to ear. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you were always more suited for the profession than Trey, or even Beth.”

  His dad thought that? Why had he never said so?

  “But when Trey said he was going to be a doctor, I knew you’d go another way. You always did. And you weren’t a boy who took advice.”

  Ry grimaced at the truth. “You don’t think it’s too late for me to go to med school?”

  “Not at all, though getting admitted may take some doing. How were your college grades?”

  It was Ry’s turn to smile. “Better than you thought. I made dean’s list every semester.”

  His father burst out in proud laughter. “That’s not what Beth led us to believe.”

  It was a great feeling, making his dad proud. He probably should have done it more often. “I swore Beth to secrecy, but she knew. I’ve already taken the MCAT, Dad.”

  “And?” The apprehension in his father’s voice was understandable. If the MCAT score wasn’t up there, med school wouldn’t be an option, and it had been a long time since Ry had been in school.

  But Ry had good news about that, too. He’d done better than he could have hoped for. Even his dad seemed impressed.

  “The ER chief at Manhattan General says he’ll put in a good word for me at the teaching hospital there,” he said.

  “Is there a possibility that you could move back here, Ry? We have some good med schools in California.”

  His dad looked so hopeful that Ry couldn’t say no right off the bat. He hadn’t considered coming back to stay, but if he did, he could share his faith with his family.

  “Your grandfather, your uncles and I could put in a few good words for you ourselves. And, one day, we’d love to have you aboard at the clinic.”

  Warning lights flashed in Ry’s mind. This they had to get straight. “Thanks for the offer, Dad, but regular office hours don’t appeal to me. If I become a doctor, I’ll want to go with emergency medicine.”

  “Son, you do what you want, and I’ll back you.”

  His dad would stand up to Mom, to Trey, the uncles and Grandpa Brennan? All of them would pressure Ry to join the clinic. Where would his dad get the courage to do what he’d never done?

  At the diner across from the hospital, Meg and Beth shared one side of a booth while Ry sprawled on the other. Meg thought that Ry seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, and no wonder, when the meeting with his dad had gone so well. Ry hadn’t given them details of the talk, just that his dad had explained his mom’s obsession with Ry being like her dad.

  When Ry reported his dad’s promise to support Ry’s choices and his intention to be part of Ry’s future, Meg could hardly keep her mouth shut. She was furious at his father for taking too long to be a real dad.

  “Did you invite Dad to join us for lunch?” Beth asked.

  Ry nodded with a wry smile. “He had a tee time with his foursome.”

  “So much for him wanting to be part of your future,” Beth said dryly. “The foursome is his family, not us.”

  Meg couldn’t agree more. Couldn’t Dr. Brennan have canceled one round of golf to spend an afternoon with the son he hadn’t seen in a decade? It wasn’t like Ry dropped in every day. She’d had plans herself, but she’d changed them. Nothing was more important than making Ry feel glad he’d come home.

  “This will surprise you,” Ry said. “Dad encouraged me to move back here.”

  Meg felt a jolt of pure joy. Ry back here to stay? She could only begin to imagine how wonderful that could be.

  But Beth frowned. “You know that won’t make Mom any happier with you. Unless you do the whole Rylander Hamilton thing, you’ll never get her approval.”

  “I’m not looking for Mom’s approval, Beth,” he said softly. “I never had it, and I sure don’t need it now. I would like to see her on some meds though.”

  “Short of locking Mom in a padded cell, that’s not going to happen,” Beth said.

  It wasn’t in Meg to criticize there, not out loud at least, but she would burst if she stayed at the table and listened to more of this.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m going to the rest room.” That would get her away from the table. Hopefully, by the time she returned, she could exhibit peace, joy and the other Christian attributes that failed her at the moment.

  Ry watched Meg until she was out of sight. Her long hair was pulled back into a high ponytail today, with little wisps that framed her face. Her red top skimmed the waist of her jeans.

  “Whatcha lookin’ at, Ry?” Beth teased.

  He lifted his brows and smiled ruefully. “Meg is hard to ignore these days.”

  “And hard to please. You don’t have a chance, buddy.”

  He shrugged, feigning modesty. “You’re probably right.” But he hoped she wasn’t, and, in truth, he couldn’t remember when he’d been turned down. If he did move out here, Meg could throw that list away. There was enough chemistry between them to start a small fire…and a long, God-blessed relationship.

  “So, how soon are you moving to L.A.?” his sister asked, as if it were a done deal.

  “I don’t know that I am.”

  “But we would have so much fun.”

  “Last night you talked like you didn’t have time for fun.” This lunch break was the only time she had for him today, though he understood. Her life wouldn’t be her own until she was through with her residency.

  “But this isn’t going to last much longer,” she said. “When I start my practice at Brennan Medical Clinic, things will be better. I’ve missed you, Ry. Please, come home.”

  New York was home. He’d lived his entire adult life there and felt like a native.

  “I hear there’s a big waiting list for paramedics at the fire departments,” she said, “but you shouldn’t have any trouble getting on with one of the private companies.”

  “Dad said he would look into that for me.”

  Her eyes widened. “He’d better not let Mom know.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  This was going to blow her mind. “Beth, I told Dad and I’m telling you that I’m thinking of going to med school.”

  “You’re kidding!” She seemed far more shocked than his dad had been. “You’re caving in?”

  “N
o!” How could she think that? “I’m just sick of not being able to do more for patients, and I’d be as unhappy in any other job. I want to call the shots myself.”

  “But of course you do,” she said dryly, knowing him.

  “This stays with us. Okay?”

  “Meg would love to know.”

  He nodded. “And I’d love to tell her, but if I’m not accepted, I’d just as soon keep that humiliation to myself.”

  “Why am I being so honored by your confidence?”

  “I may need your help. If I do move out here, and that’s a big ‘if,’ I’m going to need a place to live.”

  Beth’s grin went full-blown. “Ry, leave it to me. I know a perfect place. You’ll love it, and if things go like I think they will, I may have to believe in God.”

  Chapter Six

  Meg pulled her convertible into a parking space at Beth’s condo, and waited for Ry to park his rental SUV. Since they were only taking one vehicle to her brother’s beach house, it would be hers, of course. Days as beautiful as this were meant to be enjoyed with the top down.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and turned her face to the sun, thinking how fortunate she was to have this unexpected time with Ry. What a way to celebrate a brand-new year.

  Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been dreading the Brennan party and regretting that another year had passed without finding someone to love. How sweet it was of the Lord to give her this bit of encouragement, this time of heart-racing fun. The Lord hadn’t forgotten about her at all.

  The butterfly troop in her stomach seemed ecstatic at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with Ry. He was one gorgeous guy. She loved how his lightweight khaki sweater circled the base of his throat and fit snugly over his chest and shoulder muscles. Whatever Ry’s agenda was these days, he did not neglect working out.

  The troop would love it if Ry moved back here, but they shouldn’t get their hopes up. He seemed content with his life in New York and, here, he’d have to contend with his mother, Trey and the whole Brennan clan. She wouldn’t blame him if he moved even farther away.