Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(50)

“Your choice to sacrifice your career.”

Annoyance flares. “Your concern is touching. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I move to leave.

“Isaac, wait.” Her hand goes out to stop me, although she’s nowhere near touching me. “I’m here to help you see reason. God knows she won’t. She probably has no idea what you’re giving up for her. And her child.”

My fists ball at my sides. “My child.”

“Right, yes. Your child.” Jenna’s face screws up as if the words taste bad. “Isaac, I heard about your offer and I want you to think more about it. Saying no to Dr. Redmond is a bad idea. You could go so far with his help. A research position, Isaac. Research. That’s huge.”

Her words bounce around in my mind. To Jenna, this is the ultimate step in a flourishing career. I can see where she’s coming from.

“Jenna.” I pause to take in her face. She looks like she always has. I wonder what she’ll do when, inevitably, smile lines appear around her lips. “Sometimes, there are more important things than moving up in your career. And I hope you get to experience them.” I step through the open door and pause in the doorway. “I’ll see you around.”

There’s no point in sticking around to here any other arguments she has prepared. She lifts her hand for a short wave, her face concerned, and I walk away.

I’m not worried about my choice. I know my priorities.



“Hi, sorry I’m late.” Lauren slides into the seat across from me. “Did you order?”

I nod, checking the time on my watch. “I have a three o’clock surgery.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she mutters, hooking her purse strap on the back of her chair. She brushes her bangs from her eyes and blinks at me.

“Stop,” I instruct as her eyes fill. “Nothing’s changed.”

“It feels different.” She bites her lip, but she can’t completely stop it from trembling.

“Did we go to see the Redwoods when you were eight? I tripped you, and you fell headfirst into a tree. Is that right?”

She nods.

“Did I chase your first date out of the house because he was a douchebag?”

A small smile moves her lips. “He was not a douchebag.”

“He was and you’re welcome.” I bow dramatically until she’s done laughing. Straightening, I grow serious. “My point is, everything’s the same. You knowing doesn’t change anything. Family is love.”

She makes a grunting noise in the back of her throat and rolls her eyes. “Don’t. I already heard those words from Mom. And now I understand why she’s been saying them our whole lives.”

The server drops off a basket of bread, and I thank him before he walks away. Lauren lays her napkin on her lap and tears a piece of bread in half. She pops it in her mouth and chews like the bite offended her.

“Give Mom a break.” I take the other half of the bread and drop it on my plate. “I know it’s new to you, but I dealt with it a long time ago.”

“By going to a bar and making a baby.”

“Best decision I ever made,” I say around a bite of bread.

She smiles. “It was, wasn’t it?”

I nod.

“How’s it going living with Aubrey and Claire? It’s been what, two weeks?” She sips her water.

She’s changing the direction of our conversation, and I’m grateful. It’s not a pleasant subject for me, despite the fact that I’m as over it as I can be.

I sit back in my seat, the tension melting from my shoulders. “It’s going well, I think. Claire’s adjusting. Honestly, she didn’t need much adjusting.” Claire’s an easy kid. I’ve yet to see her throw a fit, though Aubrey assures me she’s still on her best behavior, and it’s just a matter of time.

“And Aubrey?” Lauren’s gaze pins me. This question is more difficult to answer.

“Aubrey is…” I shift in my chair. “She’s adjusting too.”

“Why the hesitation?”

I sip my iced tea, thinking of how to answer Lauren’s question. I don’t know how things are going with Aubrey. We have good conversation, she smiles and seems happy. Together, we put Claire to bed every night. But then she steps from Claire’s room, mumbles good night, and practically runs to her room. It’s as if she’s reached max capacity and might implode.

“She seems happy, but I wonder if it’s a front for Claire.” The guilt I’ve been fighting creeps in. “I insisted she move in. I was so sure it was the right choice for Claire, but I didn’t think much about Aubrey.”

“Aubrey is an adult. She made the choice she thought was best.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, not because I agree but because it’s easier not to argue with her. I check my watch under the table. Our food needs to arrive soon.

“Isaac, seriously.” Lauren’s voice is insistent. “Aubrey’s a big girl. She’s not anywhere she doesn’t want to be.” Her look is stern, eyebrows drawn together and chin cocked a few degrees to the left. It’s the look my mother has given us a million times. I won’t tell her that now, though. I know better.

Lunch comes to the table, and I eat like I haven’t seen food in three days. I refuse to think about Aubrey any longer. For my sanity, and for the sake of my next patient, I need to start clearing my mind.