Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Vince had spent a good long time that afternoon turning on the Sothard charm and cozying up to the charge nurse in the peds oncology unit.
Not an easy feat in a clown suit. But he’d eventually been able to appeal to her empathetic side—which it seemed the amazing nurses there had in spades—and found out when Inez was due for her next infusion.
He’d work on getting more information, slowly.
When he’d gone home—his parents’ house, actually, where he was currently bunking until he found his own accommodations—he’d said a quick hello to his parents, then headed straight for his room. He needed time to think. There were two things Vince couldn’t get off his mind.
One was the lovely, pale healthcare worker he’d run into, and the second was Inez.
Lace hadn’t left his brain for more than a few minutes, even when he’d been plotting and strategizing to deal with the little girl’s plight.
Lace intrigued him.
Clearly, her carefully curated professional look—with her obviously short, no-nonsense hair hidden under that surgical cap, and her unadorned scrubs—indicated that she was all business.
He really liked that in a woman. Vince had served with some of the best and toughest females on the planet, and even though none were currently on any SEAL teams, the Special Operations women he knew kept the Navy-engine chugging strongly with their hard work and dedication.
Lace had that same air about her.
Vince would find her again, but since he couldn’t do anything about that right now, he’d work on the Inez situation.
He pulled his laptop out of his bag and placed it on his desk.
Opening it up, he typed in, Can a man be a foster parent in Maine?
The first word he saw, was “yes”.
He gave a fist pump, and his heart started beating a little faster.
He quickly read the first seven bullet points that had come up:
Age: Be at least 21 years old.
Background: Pass a fingerprint-based criminal background check.
Health: Be in good physical and mental health to care for a child.
Home: Have a safe, stable home (renting is acceptable) that passes a fire safety inspection.
Finances: Demonstrate the ability to support yourself financially without relying on the state stipend.
Training: Complete the necessary training and licensing process, which includes a home study.
References: Provide three non-related references.
Hell, yes. He had all that covered easily, except for having his own place to live, which he could solve in a blink.
Without giving himself time to chicken out, Vince clicked the “Get Involved” button on the state website, then immediately scrolled down to where it said “application package”.
The pertinent documents populated his screen, and he downloaded them immediately before sitting back with a rare bit of uncertainty.
Did he really want to do this?
He’d decide, for real, once he slept on it.
Because even when he did apply, it didn’t mean he had to follow through if he had second thoughts.
It wouldn’t be a hardship for him to look into things, especially since he was doing part-time work on no particular schedule; not yet deciding where his future lay.
One thing was certain. He wanted to spend the rest of his days right here in Maine. He’d missed it like hell, being based on the West Coast for so many years, and it was a no-brainer he wasn’t pulling up anchor again.
It was the logistics of being here that Vince hadn’t figured out yet.
His brothers wanted him to come in as another partner in Diver Downeast, but Vincent wasn’t sure.
He was currently enjoying his part-time, on-call roll with them, and wasn’t feeling a gut-need to take it any deeper.
True, the water was his life, and had been for years as a SEAL, but keeping his skills honed by giving Diver Downeast a helping hand when they needed it, seemed somehow better than tying himself to the new family business.
Vincent also found himself working with his father again in the old family business—the lumber mill—enjoying all the sounds and smells he’d grown up with. His old man had hinted that retirement was right around the corner for him and their matriarch, Ellen.
Someone was going to have to take over as Guy aged out, but Vincent had his doubts that his father could walk away from his life’s work, altogether.
Still, it gave Vince yet another piece of his personal puzzle to fuss over.
Would he want to run Sothard Lumber with his semi-retired dad, or could he oversee the business, part time, relying heavily on their long-time, loyal employees?
The latter would allow him to keep one foot in the lumber business, while keeping his other in Diver Downeast, and… foster care.
Again, nothing had to be decided right away, but all those things that he was contemplating made for a potent mix that would assuredly keep his brain, his body, and his heart completely and satisfactorily engaged.
Just as he pushed back from his desk, ready to head into the kitchen for dinner he could smell cooking, Vincent’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Buck.
He looked up at the clock. It was six o’clock, so Diver Downeast had closed up for the evening, but that didn’t mean there might not be an emergency.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he picked up. “Yo.”
“Yo, yourself, you sly devil,” Buck shot back.
So much for an emergency. Clearly this was a social call.
“What do you want, asshole. I’m busy,” Vincent snarked.
“Right. And you’ve been very busy today,” Buck countered with a smirk in his voice that was unmistakable.
How the hell…? Nope. His brother could just be fishing.
“What do you mean?” Vince returned innocently.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Buck was unrelenting. “You put on your widdow cwown outfit today,” he baby-talked, “and went to da horspital.”
Vince grumbled, and Buck snapped back into grown-up mode. “Which is a dick move, bro, since you know we’ve put money on whether or not you’d dare do it.”
Crap. With all the things going around in Vincent’s head, the truth was, he’d forgotten all about the clowning dare. He’d planned on lording it over his siblings, eventually, but he guessed he’d have to do it now.
“Yeah, yeah,” he demurred. “So sue me. You lose, little man. Never bet against your big brother.”
“Dude,” Buck whined. “How could you do this? Have you no pity? I’m your favorite fucking brother.”
“Wrong. I don’t have a favorite,” Vincent returned with an amused snort. “You’re all total assholes.”
“Well, be that as it may,” Buck kept going, unfazed by an insult that they always, good-naturedly dished at each other, “I’m now out a Hundo, and I’m shocked.”
“Shocked, why?” Vince questioned curiously.
Vince had always been about community service of one kind or another, even when he was young. He took after his mother that way.
Once he’d been deployed, he’d found ways to ramp that portion of his life up; helping out the wives and family of injured teammates, and making sure no one’s compromised mental health got overlooked.
He’d even spearheaded his division into supplying food for any number of down-and-out, small villages in Afghanistan near where they’d been stationed.
He didn’t feel like any of that was a big deal. Just his duty as a caring human being. And his little brother should know that.
“Because you’re a big joker,” Buck reminded him. “The irreverent one in the family. You never take anything seriously, and now…this?”
Vincent sighed. “How long have I been in the Navy, Buck?”
“Uh, you’re fucking forty years on this planet, old man…”
Vincent hated being reminded of his age.
“…so you’ve served…twenty?”
“That’s right,” Vincent concurred, ignoring the pang reminding him that half his life had passed him by. And that unlike six of his brothers, he had yet to find that one woman who’d make him feel like he was someone special.
Vince dropped that line of thought and persevered. “And since you were a Coastie for nearly fifteen, how long has it been since we interacted for more than a few days at a time?”
When the gang of brothers did manage to get time off together, Vince had pulled a few stunts for old time’s sake, but outside of family, he’d toned down his need for being the class clown.
“I know, I know,” Buck agreed. “We’ve all grown up, but Vin, nobody can ever take the ‘funny’ out of you.”
It was a compliment. Maybe. So Vincent accepted it as such.
“Thanks. I have toned it down, though, and I’m more about helping out where I can these days,” he corrected, then grinned. “I did feel good making those kids laugh today,” he admitted.
But wait.
Vincent had questions. How the hell did Buck know where he’d been this afternoon?
“Hey jerk-face. How did you find out I was at the hospital?”
Buck snorted. “Here’s something you’ll find amusing,” he offered up. “Bobbie’s friend saw you there and texted.”
“Stop right there,” Vince grumbled. “I was in total, head-to-toe, clown garb. How could any friend of Bobbie’s possibly have known who I was?”
It was one of the banes and perks of being a Sothard. Recognition was almost always instantaneous out in public since the eight of them looked so much alike. Vince, however, had thought his disguise would keep him from being spotted today.
“Will you let me finish?” his brother huffed, clearly amused but not wanting to rush what he perceived as an interesting story.
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
Vincent’s stomach growled loudly. He’d skipped lunch, and the aroma coming from his mother’s kitchen was almost too much to handle.
“Just make it quick,” he snapped.
“Fine. Apparently, you had a lapse in SEAL skills, bro. In a rare moment of clumsiness, you bumped into a woman in the hallway.”
Vince wanted to groan, but slapped his forehead instead.
“Someone saw me do that?”
“Uh, duh. The woman you almost flattened.”
“Wha…?”
Vincent’s shoulders snapped back as he tried not to stumble over his next question.
“Lace?” he asked, hoping Buck didn’t hear the crack in his voice. “Bobbie is friends with Lace?”
Buck laughed long and loud, clearly enjoying the hell out of himself.
“Yup. They’ve known each other for a bunch of years, and Lace is a really nice woman. Pretty, too,” Buck added, as if Vincent had needed the reminder.
Hooyah! Things were definitely looking up.
“That’s awesome Buck. Will Bobbie give me her number?
Or…wait. That sounds a little stalkerish.
Will Bobbie give Lace mine?” Vincent’s mouth came unglued and he began to overshare.
“I think we had a…moment, there. At least I did,” Vince admitted.
“I was kind of thinking she might have felt something, too.”
Buck cleared his throat, still amused, the asshole. “Well, she may have mentioned to Bobbie and me that despite the make-up, she thought you might be cute.”
Vincent sucked in an excited breath, but before he could say anything else, Buck was talking again.
“And she wondered if clowns have bones,” he chortled, “so I’m thinking you managed to keep your interest in her PG, at least for that moment.”
“Dick,” Vincent grumbled, but there was no strength behind the insult. He was just too damned overjoyed that Lace had thought of him at all.
“Uh, huh. That’s what I’m saying,” Buck snickered. “Your dick behaved, so points to you, dude.”
Vince groaned. “Okay. Fine. Cut the shit and get serious for a minute. Do you think I have a chance with her? Do you think she’ll go out with me if I ask?”
There was an odd hesitation over the line as Vincent held his breath, waiting for his brother’s reply.
“I, uh…”
“What?” Vincent demanded. Didn’t Buck think he was good enough for his wife’s friend?
That had to be it, and immediately Vincent’s mood altered.
Shit. Maybe Buck was right. If Lace was a full-blown doctor, she might be intellectually out of Vincent’s reach.
“Help me out here, Buck. What aren’t you saying.”
“Did she, uh, tell you why she was at the hospital?” Buck asked, displaying none of the bluster he’d previously been deploying.
Vince sighed. Here it was in a nutshell.
“No. But the scrubs kind of gave it away. She’s either a doctor, a nurse, or…dammit. She’s a surgeon, isn’t she? That’s it. And you think she’s way out of my league.”
“No, dude,” Buck returned cautiously. “She’s not a surgeon.”
“What then?” Vincent demanded. “Is she some kind of nurse or specialist? She was in scrubs, after all.”
“Vince,” Buck told him steadily. “I’m not sure why she had scrubs on today, but Lace doesn’t work at the hospital. She actually works for NOAA. She’s a marine biologist and an observer on some of the commercial fleet that docks around here.”
Vincent grinned. That accounted for the calluses on her hands. He’d known she was one hard-working cookie.
“So, what was she doing at the hospital, then?” he asked, this time a little more upbeat before the implications of what wasn’t being said, began to slowly settle in. Ah, shit. “Was… Was she visiting someone?”
Please let her have been visiting a friend.
“No, she wasn’t,” Buck responded with something akin to regret in his tone.
Vincent braced. He didn’t like how this sounded. Not one bit.
“Just tell me,” he rasped out.
“Lace is a cancer patient, Vince. She was at the hospital for her weekly chemo infusion.”