My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(47)

“In a way. I might not have raised a young woman in her twenties, but it hasn’t been all that long since I was one. And I remember how people getting in my space and my business made me crazy. I know that when I was determined in a certain direction—like dating some idiot who didn’t deserve me—criticism of him would only make me more determined. I remember when I was planning a wedding and all my sisters had advice about what I should do—always exactly what I didn’t want to do—and it made me furious…and mean. It made me mean. If you stretch your memory, I know you’ll remember being in that place—young, idealistic and determined. And damn angry when anyone tried to change your mind.”

She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, “Creepy Calvin.”

“Ah,” Brie said with a laugh. “Your practice fiancé!”

“Engaged for four months. Mom and Dad hated him and asked me what I saw in him. Jack didn’t like him. My girlfriends kept asking me if I’d lost my mind. What was I thinking?”

“Maybe you were thinking you could make up your own mind. So let me ask you something—if everyone had backed off, would you still have done it? Accepted his lame-ass proposal?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. But I would have broken it off sooner. I hung in there for a couple of months after I realized he was a controlling, small-minded doofus just because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone saying they tried to warn me.”

“And what would you have liked your friends and family to have said to you instead?”

She thought for a moment. “Oh, something along the lines of, ‘You’re a smart woman, Donna. You’ll do what’s best for you.’”

“There you go,” Brie said. “Practice that.”

Chapter Ten

Nothing could have prepared Patrick for the experience of taking Angie, Megan and Lorraine to Davis for an appointment with the plastic surgeon. He had offered simply because he wanted to spend the time with Angie and because he was curious to see for himself the evolution of this special project she’d taken on. And the revelations were stunning.

When they arrived at the Thicksons’, he was struck by their poverty. This was a hard-working family, yet they lived in a small, poor farmhouse that looked as if it would collapse if he kicked the right stud. Then there was his first full-face view of Megan’s scar, and he’d had to concentrate to keep from wincing. The angry line that ran from her mouth to just under her eye made her look almost clownish. And she wore an expression of despair that he wasn’t sure was an expression of her sadness or just the result of her tugging facial muscles. Even when she smiled, she looked forlorn. Angie was right—she could not go into her teenage years like this.

The drive to Davis was quietly lighthearted. There was a lot of talking among the women. There was a little song-singing and laughing. Megan nodded off for a while—she’d been up very early for the trip. And as they neared Davis, he could feel the nervousness settling in. Certainly Megan and Lorraine pinned desperate hopes on this visit, but Angie was his main concern. He knew she must be so afraid of failing at this—more than at any other challenge she’d taken on. Looking over at her as they drove, he could see that fear weighing on her.

But when they got to Dr. Hernandez’s office, Angie’s confidence was back. Despite the nervous pink splotches climbing up her neck, her voice was strong and confident. That’s the thing with overachievers, something he knew only too well—people always thought it was easy for them, that it was effortless, or lucky. She flushed slightly as she explained why they were there but she forced her voice, which trembled a bit, to be strong.

Angie had told him she felt academically and intellectually strong but struggled with feeling socially awkward. He wondered if anyone else noticed her slight hesitancy when she spoke, her pinkened cheeks. She was determined, but he could tell it wasn’t easy, selling her case to the doctor’s office staff. She’d blushed a little the first time she had talked to Paddy, but it had passed so quickly he had forgotten about it. Around her friends and family, she seemed so self-assured. But in this setting, with Megan and Lorraine depending on her so thoroughly, it was clearly a struggle to keep up that appearance. He could sense in her an overpowering urge to duck and run. But she fought it valiantly.

After a brief wait, the nurse escorted them all to an exam room and even Patrick went along—he didn’t want to miss anything. He was determined to be her extra set of eyes and ears, to pay close attention to the details. And no one questioned his presence within the group.

She smiled in relief, comfortable when she met Dr. Hernandez. “This is Megan, the girl we spoke about,” Angie said. “And this is Mrs. Thickson, her mother, and Patrick Riordan, who brought us here, a very good friend.”

“A pleasure,” the doctor said, nodding at them all. “Let’s get right to it. Let me have a look, Megan, and then I’ll talk to your mother about the details. Is that all right with you?”

Megan nodded and the doctor helped her up on an exam chair that sat high off the ground.

Angie leaned close as the doctor placed gentle fingers on the girl’s face, moving her skin around. He lifted her lower eyelid slightly with the end of a swab, asked her to smile for him, to open and close her eyes. And after just a few minutes he smiled at Megan and said, “I have some ideas, Megan. I want you to go with Sandra while your mother and I talk. Sandra will find you a magazine or you can watch TV. And, Sandra, will you please send Catherine?”