Chapter 40
40
GRANT
When Tessa had brought up sharing the news about Morris County Hospital with Emily, I hadn’t known how Emily would react, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect her to call me. I’d forgotten her name was in my phone—a remnant from Tessa’s time in the hospital—but there it was, blinking up at me, asking me to swipe and answer “hello.” Every cell in my body wanted to snooze that call, but tolerating Emily was one of the very few downsides of loving Tessa Davis. I swiped, and the phone lit up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Grant? This is Emily.” There was a pause, then, “Davis.”
The last name was an unnecessary add-on, but I wasn’t going to call her out on it. “Hey, Emily. What’s up? I’m at work, so I’m not with Tessa. She’s alright, right?”
“She’s fine—I mean, I haven’t talked to her. Well, I talked to her a few days ago, but not today.” She paused and took a deep breath, as if she’d just realized she was babbling.
“Okay,” I replied awkwardly, glancing at my watch. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it—my next appointment wasn’t for fifteen minutes. I couldn’t imagine a torturous world where I was stuck on the phone with Emily for more than fifteen minutes. “What’s up?”
“Tessa called me a couple days ago to tell me about Morris County. And your old boss. And the position.” She was babbling again, not at all the confident ball-buster I’d come to know and reluctantly tolerate. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“That’s right, yeah. Colin Burns is an exceptional surgeon, and I consider him my mentor. I’d be willing to put in a good word for you, although I can’t say where he’s at concerning OBGYN.” Horrible though she was, I had little doubt Emily was a good surgeon, and I wouldn’t let our personal issues get in the way of Colin finding the best possible surgeons.
“She also mentioned you opening up a group practice,” Emily said.
“Oh, yeah,” I replied, caught off-guard. It wasn’t news I’d spread widely since Cole hadn’t resigned from the hospital yet, but there was no reason Emily couldn’t know. “Delia Gwynn and I are going to combine our offices, and I think there’s a pediatrician we’re considering.” It was as much truth as I could share without risking Cole’s privacy, but Emily didn’t need to know more.
“Do you have an OBGYN?” she asked.
“At the practice? No, not at this point. Delia does annuals—basic pelvic exams and breast checks—but most women still go to Cranberry Falls for OB.”
There was a long pause, and I assumed we’d run out of polite conversation. Tessa and medicine were all Emily and I had in common, and we’d already touched on both. I was preparing to offer to speak to Colin once more when Emily spoke.
“Would you consider me?”
A bark of a laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You hate me.” She’d had two decades to make that fact abundantly clear, and she’d never wasted an opportunity.
A low, frustrated growl came through the phone, and I imagined this call was hard for Emily. “I’m not ready to think of you as a brother, but I can tolerate you,” she said coolly. “Because I love Tessa. And because you’re a good doctor.”
I nodded, though she couldn’t see. “I appreciate that. I’m sure you’re equally talented, but I can’t help but ask, since you’re proposing we work together, why do you hate me? I understand Claire hating me, but why do you?”
She sighed heavily, and a better man might’ve felt a twinge of empathy, but I only felt curiosity. “Why does Claire get a free pass and I don’t?” Emily asked.
Again, the question made me chuckle. “Because I got caught up in your mom’s set-up and almost fucked things up for her and Hudson. I know they ended up together, but… Well, I’m still really embarrassed about that.”
“Claire hated you before that, you know.”
My brow twitched up. Count on Emily to make me feel worse when I was already feeling guilty. This is why it was hard to spare her empathy. “I didn’t know that,” I admitted.
“In fairness, she probably hates you because of me,” Emily said.
“Because of you?”
“Most likely,” she replied. “You know, Dupree, I was the best at everything before you jumped up into my grade.”
She had to be kidding. “We were ten,” I said dryly.
“I was eleven,” she snapped, “and no one had ever come close to me academically. Every kid and every teacher spent the whole first decade of my life telling me how gifted I was.” She grunted. “And then you came along.”
“Jesus, Emily. I didn’t choose to jump up a grade.”
“I know that—of course I know that—but that doesn’t change anything. You did jump up a grade, and then everyone began comparing us.”
“Competing with you made me better. I liked having someone who pushed me,” I said.
She ignored my statement, as if she knew she should appreciate the competition but never had. “And the next thing I knew, you were valedictorian.”
“For fucks sake, you were the salutatorian and the class president. None of that shit matters.”
“Yeah. Maybe it shouldn’t, maybe you’re right, but it still pisses me off. Even now,” she mused. She inhaled deeply and added, “And so I talked a lot of smack about you being smug and smarmy and a man-whore. I mean, I didn’t know Claire would take it to heart, and I certainly didn’t know Nora and Ethan would fall for each other and make our families one giant Brady Bunch from hell.”
“I’m none of those things, you know,” I pointed out to Emily.
She sighed. “I know I’m the asshole in this scenario, but it’s still hard to like you,” she said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not trying to be funny.”
“I know,” I replied, still smiling. “I was just thinking you must be one hell of a doctor, because this is a terrible interview.”
“I know,” she sighed, and I imagined her face-palming, because that was the miserable tone she had. “Just forget I called. And God, don’t tell Tessa. This is so embarrassing.”
“Emily, wait,” I said quickly, before she could hang up. There was a relief in knowing Emily’s hatred of me was so petty. All these years I’d assumed there was something inherently wrong with me that she’d been able to spot, but that wasn’t the case at all. “You’re right that we could use a good OBGYN. If you’re serious about coming home and working with me on a daily basis without calling me names, I’d absolutely consider you. Just send me your résumé and letters of recommendation so I can share them with Delia, okay?”
“Seriously?”
“Of course. The fellowship you just finished is selective as hell, so you must be good, and it would mean the world to Tess.”
“Okay—yes. I’ll send you my stuff.” She paused, then said, “Thank you, Grant. I—” She inhaled noisily, then let the breath out. “I’m sorry.”
I glanced at my watch, realizing I’d talked to Emily for a full fifteen minutes. “Shit. I have a patient coming. No problem, Emily. Talk to you soon.”