10. Hudson
10
HUDSON
I finish off an email to a doctor friend in the city and sort out my files for the day. It’s early, but I left Harvey with Mom to drop at school while I came in to get a few things sorted. The stark white of my office looks sanitized but not overly welcoming and the coffee is doing little to get me going this morning.
“Good morning. Hope I’m not interrupting?” the sweetest voice I have ever heard says, and I look up, seeing a vision in my doorway, her mother by her side.
“Morning,” I say, standing up from my desk. I’m unable to help the large grin that comes to my face at seeing Lacy standing before me.
“We were just heading to the pharmacy next door, and I wanted to drop off your suit jacket. I wasn’t sure if you needed it for today.” She takes a few steps into my office, my designer jacket looking freshly pressed in her hand. I don’t need it. I have many suits—too many, probably. My wardrobe is full of them. So much so, my brother teases me about it, and Tanner takes great pleasure in telling me my wardrobe now needs to change since I’m back in Whispers. Suits don't really fit in with the lifestyle here.
“Thank you. That was quick,” I say to her as we step toward each other. I move forward to grab the jacket hanging from her fingers, bumping her hand, enjoying the contact almost as much as I did standing with her last night, looking at the stars. She smiles at me, the light blush to her cheeks fucking adorable, and I can’t move this stupid grin from my face.
I had a feeling she might turn down my offer of a date last night. I know it isn’t because she doesn’t want to. The chemistry between us is undeniable. But I understand her life is busy and stressful, so I plan to find a way to take her out. Give her some time to be just Lacy for a little while.
“Oh, Lacy doesn't like owing people things. She likes to make sure things are returned promptly.” Her mother laughs, and at the sound of her mom’s voice, Lacy drops my fingers like they burn her. I frown, but nod to her mom in understanding. I can see that about Lacy. Never wanting to ask for help, never wanting to take anything from people. Preferring to handle things herself. Hell, she didn’t even want to take my jacket at first, even though she was shivering.
“Well, I’m glad to see you, both of you, actually, because I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say to them, getting back into professional mode and gesturing for them to take a seat. They do, and I take the jacket to hang it on the back of my door, trying not to look at Lacy too much, which is hard because she’s wearing black high heels and a black corporate dress that follows her curves a little too well. Her hair is down and her lips glossy; she is clearly on her way to work after this visit. She looks just how she did in my dreams last night, and my mouth suddenly dries.
“What’s up?” Lacy asks, eyeing me inquisitively. She gets these little wrinkles near her eyes, not dissimilar to how she looked last night while staring at the stars, and I like her looking at me like this. Like she’s seeing something deeper in me, listening intently and giving me all of her attention. It’s new. Even my late wife didn’t really look at me that way. Any female attention I’ve received since hasn’t either. My status as a doctor and my bank balance are seemingly the key things women look at when they notice me. But not Lacy. I don’t see that in her gaze at all. My eyes flick to her glossy lips, and I can’t help but think of the way her tongue tangled that cherry stem at the diner last week. I clear my throat and shuffle some paperwork on my desk, trying to get my mind out of the gutter.
“I’m introducing a new initiative to Whispers to improve patient medical outcomes,” I say, looking at them both as they eye me, wanting more information. This is something I have thought about for a while, and I would be lying if I said that Lacy and her mom were not the catalyst for this new program.
“Okay. What does that mean?” Lacy asks, sounding tentative, almost like she is ready and waiting for an onslaught of some sort. I give her a smile. I like that she’s protective of her mother, but she’s tense, too stressed, and I want to put her at ease.
“I’m thinking of introducing a visitation schedule, where I can fly specialists into the hospital and have them see the people who need specialist treatment, so it’s the doctor who travels, not the patient,” I say, looking at her mom, who’s nodding. This is a special program I want to develop, something I have been thinking about for a while. One I know Tanner will be very supportive of. Bringing more people to the town, offering the town residents more medical attention than they have ever had before.
“So how does it work exactly?” Lacy asks me, she and her mom now holding hands. I know they are close; they are all the other has. A program like this would alleviate Lacy’s burden, reduce the need for so much travel to Williamstown, and get them immense insight and new treatment ideas from some of the country’s best doctors. All right here in Whispers.
“In your example, I would fly in a cancer specialist who can not only look at your file and assess your condition from the test results we’ve done, but someone who can meet you, see you face-to-face, talk about your symptoms and lifestyle, and take a whole of person approach. Williamstown is great, but some of the things the researchers and doctors in the city can do and have access to is immeasurable, and I want to bring that to Whispers.”
I watch Lacy, and I see her swallow. She’s unsure but open to it, I think.
“It wouldn’t just be a cancer specialist for the town to utilize, but I would start with that. I know your prognosis now, Veronica, is good, but I think another opinion on things is always helpful. I also hope to bring in trauma support, elderly care, and pediatrics. There’s so much that small towns miss out on that I can bring here to really make a difference for the people of Whispers. I have a lot of contacts; I know most of the top specialists. They could give one week every few months and touch base, provide insights to both me and the patient, as well as bring others with them.”
“It all sounds good to me. I’m happy to be a guinea pig,” Veronica says, seemingly positive about the opportunity to be my case study, and Lacy looks at her sharply.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t think our insurance will cover something like that.” Lacy’s frown is visible, but even when she’s unhappy, she’s beautiful.
“To be clear, you still need to approve everything. As I said, you are doing really well, Veronica, so you will not just be given new medication or treatment plans without thorough consultation or anything like that, and I will be here, still overseeing it. And because it’s new, experimental, you could say, the cost will be covered. You don't need to worry about any of that,” I tell her, adamant that if I have to pay for it personally, I will. Lacy looks at me, the pride she has showing through the stare she is giving me, not happy about taking something for free, but then she glances at her mom and her hardness melts.
“If Mom wants to do it, we can do it,” she says quietly, and my chest thuds so hard I need to rub it. Lacy’s mom has had so many medical interventions over the years. Clearly, she’s happy to try anything to help her, and I know that’s what has kept her with us all these years. But cancer is not curable, and while she has good days and bad ones, at some point, the bad ones are going to start outweighing the good. I want to ensure that we try absolutely everything.
“There is a doctor from LA who is a cancer specialist. She’s who I’m thinking of for you. Full disclosure, she is my sister-in-law. Or my former sister-in-law,” I say, taking a breath. Melody is brilliant at her profession.
“We are sorry for your loss,” Lacy says quietly.
“Thank you. It was a few years ago now,” I tell her, a silent look shared between us, hoping she understands my past is in my past.
“Sometimes it’s hard to move on from such a loss, and we appreciate you being here in Whispers, helping us,” Veronica says. Lacy remains tight-lipped. This conversation feels heavier than I was wanting, especially for this time of the morning.
“She had breast cancer. We didn’t catch it early, and she chose to delay treatment. It was aggressive. It was a perfect storm and one we couldn’t weather,” I tell them honestly.
“Well, she lives on through little Harvey,” Veronica says with a small smile, squeezing Lacy’s hand.
“She does,” I say, nodding and returning her smile. Lacy takes a deep breath, looking uncomfortable. I pause briefly, wanting to move on. “So from here, I will make a few calls, see what I can arrange. If all goes to plan, then hopefully we can have our first consultation with her next week remotely and then get her out here in a few weeks.”
“Thanks, Doctor Hudson,” Veronica says, sighing. “It’s so good to have you here. Lacy, I just want to speak to Patti at reception. I’ll meet you at the car,” she tells her daughter, and Lacy and I stand in my office, watching her mom walk away.
I turn and look at Lacy. “Your mom is doing great.”
“Yeah, she is a fighter,” she says, a small smile on her face.
“Like her daughter.”
Lacy huffs a laugh like I’m ridiculous.
“Are you sleeping okay?” I ask, because as beautiful as she is, she does seem a little weary at times.
“Yes. Great. Never better,” she says all too quickly, and I frown.
“Are you feeling well?” I prod, taking in how she also looks a little pale.
“Of course.” She hardly looks at me, and I can tell she’s lying.
“You know if you need anything, help with your mom or—”
“I’m fine, Hudson. Really,” she cuts me off, but I see the way her shoulders rise, tensing. She isn’t happy.
“What do you do to relax?” I ask, trying a different tactic.
“Like last night, I go outside and look at the stars,” she says, blowing out a breath like she is forcing herself to relax in my presence. My fingers twitch, wanting to reach out and grab her hand, but right now, here in my office, with her mother just out the front, I need to remain professional.
“And wish on one every night…” I say quietly, her words to me at the diner last week coming back.
“Yeah. It is usually so peaceful; it’s calming looking at the stars. ”
My heart feels like it is stretching out of my chest to get to her.
“You know I still remember that night vividly,” I tell her. What happened to her, to us, months ago, is still at the forefront of my mind, so I know it must be for her as well.
“You do?” she asks with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t think I will ever forget seeing you in that shed, Lacy.” Giving in, I reach out and grab her hands, our fingers merging together like magnets.
“Doctor Hamilton, I just need— Oh sorry, I thought you were finished,” Patti, my receptionist, walks into my office, and Lacy jumps at her intrusion. Her hands drop mine, and I run a hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together.
“Hey, Patti, we are just finished. Perfect timing,” Lacy says, a big smile plastered on her face, hiding her true feelings well.
“Thanks, Doctor, and thank you for the jacket.”
I watch her leave, Patti moving along quickly behind her. Stepping to the door, I pull the jacket from the hook. I’m not sure why, but I feel the need to assess it, see if it smells like her. I run my hands over it and am about to hang it back, when my hand hits something hard in the pocket, and I pull it out. It’s a pocket-sized book, Stargazing for Beginners, and I huff a laugh as I flick through it, seeing her pages tagged and annotated. It’s one she has used a lot, if the creases on the cover are anything to go by, as well as her remarks and comments about some of the galaxies and such.
I smile, my body feeling like it’s defrosting. With thirty minutes left until my first appointment for the day, I take a seat at my desk and start reading. I want to be prepared for our next outing. I already know where Lacy goes to breathe, and under a night sky might be where she has some time. For me.