The Chance (Thunder Point #4)(34)

“You haven’t exactly bonded with Genevieve,” Pax said. “Now why the question?”

“Because,” she said softly. “I think I have a man.”

“Congratulations,” Pax said. “It’s not your first man.”

A long moment of silence stretched out between them. Finally she said, “He just about is.”

Pax cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, here’s how it happened. I was a med student. She was involved in some fund-raiser for sick kids...she was volunteering or something. I saw her and I tripped. Literally, I fell right into a kitchen cart and sent about twenty dinner trays sailing down the hall.”

Laine laughed. Genevieve was very pretty, she’d give her that.

“The minute I was done helping to clean up and the attending resident was done yelling at me, I talked to her. She was holding a small child who’d had brain surgery and although she talked to me a little bit, she wouldn’t take her attention off that child. But I did get her phone number. I had absolutely no time to date anyone but I wanted to go out with her so bad I couldn’t sleep at night. And I’m all for sleeping when there’s time to sleep. It was killing me—she was killing me. I had to suffer through about ten phone calls and then I had to give her references before she’d date me.”

“References?” Laine said with a laugh.

“Yes, references—she wasn’t about to go out with some clumsy stranger without knowing she’d be completely safe. I think you were in the middle of finishing up your master’s or interviewing with the FBI or maybe even in the academy because you were useless to me.”

“Wow,” she said. “I never gave her enough credit.”

“She has a passion for children,” he said almost reverently. “Especially children in need. She wouldn’t let me distract her from that. I didn’t know I’d be a surgeon at that time. I wasn’t even sure I’d be a pediatrician. That was my goal but Dad was pushing me toward neurosurgery. All that was peripheral—I asked Genevieve to marry me six weeks after our first date. There was just something about the way she hugged me.”

Laine laughed out loud.

“Seriously,” he insisted. “She’s the most nurturing woman. She has compassion to spare—she’s the most supportive woman I know. There’s not a malicious cell in her body. And look at what she’s gotten herself into! A surgeon in a difficult fellowship after both med school and a grueling residency, two kids, a million responsibilities, and yet she’s never too busy or distracted to give me her full attention, to cheer me on....”

“Oh, my God,” Laine said suddenly. “Oh, my God, Pax! You married our mother!”

Laughter answered her. “You’re just getting that?”

“Then why haven’t we been closer?” Laine asked.

“Twenty reasons, and not entirely your fault, so relax. I don’t blame you and it doesn’t matter. First of all, when we got married, you still had Mom. Mom was your best friend....”

“You were always my best friend....”

“Not after marrying Genevieve. You had Mom, though. And Genevieve had her own mother and sisters—she’s very close to her family. And you’re right, you’re nothing alike. You’re scrappy and she’s made avoiding conflict a science. She has no trouble telling me what she wants, however. She’s so like Mom—she knows how to smooth things over, make things work, show ways that everyone can be right....”

“Wow, how did I miss that?” Laine asked.

“Who cares how? She’s a good woman. I knew that right away. Pretty soon I realized she was like Mom and I appreciated her even more. She’s kind,” Pax said. “Wise. She makes me a better father. She tells me when the girls need something so I never fall short with them. I’m telling you, she’s the most giving, nurturing person I know. And trustworthy. I trust her as much as I trust you. She admires you so much, you have no idea....”

Laine swallowed back some sentimental tears. She coughed. “So. You knew right away.”

“Right away. Now tell me, who is this unworthy bastard you think you love?”

“A guy from town. I met him in the first couple of days I was here. He’s very handsome. And funny. And also kind. Thoughtful. But he’s just a mechanic. I mean, he has his own service station and body shop, but he’s basically a wrench. Very smart for a wrench. He must do a lot of reading or something—I’ll look deeper at that. And I don’t love him. I just like him. But a lot.”

“Well, has he done anything really special?” Pax asked.

There were so many ways to answer that. He restored classic cars—he was an artist. He built and sold one successful business and was building a second here in Thunder Point. He just found out he had a child and was stepping up, trying to help her with college. How many men would do that? But what did she say? “He’s paid his debt to society.”

Eight

After a morning jog, Laine stopped into the deputy’s office rather than the diner. Mac was on the phone so she paced by the front door while she waited, hands on her hips, taking slow breaths to even out her ragged breathing. When he finally hung up, he shot her a smile. “Well, hello. I was going to call you this afternoon.”

“Why?” she asked.