Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“I never forgot you, Vicks. Never.” Cillian’s voice echoed in Victoria’s mind as she turned onto her street.
She blinked at the light rain that smattered her windshield, blurring the darkness beyond.
But the image of Cillian’s eyes when he’d said those words appeared more clearly in front of her mind’s gaze. So intense. So…passionate.
Her heart twisted behind her ribs. Did he mean it?
She’d imagined he had forgotten her the moment he’d left Chicago. The moment he found another girl to date, which wouldn’t have been long, given his looks and charm.
His list of conquests before her had been long, according to high school gossip and judging from the multiple girls who had threatened her to leave Cillian alone, until Cillian had learned of their threats. Then the girls mysteriously began to give her a wide berth in the school’s hallways.
He’d always been protective. And her fifteen-year-old self had, of course, wanted to believe everything he told her, including that she was the only girl he had ever loved.
Her chest pinched so hard it hurt. She would never be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t let go of the tension that seemed to be winding her as tight as a rope.
Not that she could sleep anytime soon. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders, she had at least two hours of documentation left to do that evening.
It was the consequence of getting so far behind on her appointments, thanks to the situation at the Trents’.
She slowed at her driveway, releasing a calming breath through her nose. Her gaze caught on the red pickup truck parked in front of the garage door.
Hank.
A smile upturned her lips despite the fatigue that still sagged her limbs. It was like her mother used to say. She always had time to spend with her treasures.
As the baby of the family and the sweetest of them all, Hank was indeed a treasure.
His truck stood empty, so he had apparently arrived long enough ago to have used his key to let himself in.
At least Hank was one of the few people Max wasn’t afraid of.
Victoria’s giant dog was likely reveling in his attention right now.
She pulled into the left stall of the garage and closed the overhead door with the remote. As she exited her car and opened the back door, she heard the door to the house open behind her.
“Help you with your bag?”
She turned to see Hank close the door behind him and send her a smile.
She smiled in return. “It does feel heavier by this time of day.” She wasn’t about to undo the training she’d given him in being a gentleman and helping others.
“You do look beat.” He peered at her, his smile fading. “Probably still have documenting to do yet, too.”
“Correct.”
He winced, then reached to grab her bag from the back seat. He closed the door and met her gaze. “I’m sorry. I really have to talk to you.” Turmoil swam in his blue eyes.
She could guess the cause of that anxiety. They’d discussed it several times already, but he was still clearly struggling. “Of course.” She stepped toward him to touch his arm. “Let’s put on some hot chocolate, and we’ll talk.”
As they entered the house, Max rushed at them. The massive Leonberger nearly knocked Victoria over in his exuberance to reach Hank again, even though Hank had already been inside before she’d arrived.
Victoria laughed, then went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate while Max and Hank enjoyed each other some more.
She brought two mugs of Hank’s favorite comfort drink into the living room, where they sat on the sofa.
Max joined them a few feet away on the carpeting, lying down and panting from his exertion.
Victoria chuckled as she glanced at her tired but happy boy. “Well, Max is certainly glad you came.”
Hank grinned. “Max is the best. I really have to get a Leo myself. Once I figure out my life, that is.” His mouth turned down at the corners, and he lifted his mug to take a sip.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.” Victoria was ready to catch her brother’s gaze when he looked up.
“Oh, you know.” He glanced away again, then set the mug on the coffee table in front of them. “This whole thing with Dad.”
“Are you still doubting if you want to be a neurosurgeon?”
“There’s just so much pressure, you know?” Hank leaned back against the sofa cushion and pushed his fingers through his chin-length blond curls. “I just wish he wouldn’t act like it’s my only option. Like I have to do it.”
Victoria pressed her lips together to hold back her instinctive response.
She didn’t want to push or be too insistent and firm.
Given what had happened with Spring, Victoria now realized the dangers of pushing so much that she did more damage than good.
She would never want to make Hank believe he was of less value if he didn’t fit into their father’s mold.
She’d unknowingly made that mistake with Spring and would not repeat it with another sibling.
But Hank had both aptitude and interest in the medical field. His intelligence made him perfectly suited for neurosurgery.
Most importantly, he was the one in whom their father had placed his highest hopes.
From the moment he’d given Hank his own name—Henry Abraham Wilson, Jr.—their father had planned Hank’s future as the one who would follow in his footsteps, becoming a premier neurosurgeon.
His investment, expectations, and dreams had all been placed on Hank.
It would absolutely devastate their father if Hank didn’t follow that plan.
Their mom never would have wanted Hank to disappoint Dad so deeply. It would hurt both men so much, in different ways, damaging their relationship forever and potentially creating a rift in the family. No, Mom would have gently and tenderly guided Hank to do as their father wanted.
Victoria would do the same. She scooted closer to her brother and rested her hand on his knee. “It’s completely normal at your stage of life to have some doubts and even to be afraid you might miss a wonderful opportunity elsewhere if you choose the wrong career.”
Hank gave her a sidelong look. “I’m twenty-one, Vicki. Not eighteen.”
She smiled. “I know. But you’re about to start at Johns-Hopkins in the fall. It’s a big step and a long-term commitment that might seem daunting right now.”
His head turned, his attention aiming toward the brown and black dog on the carpeting.
“I think it only feels like that because I don’t really want to do it.
I mean, I want to do something…worthwhile with my life.
Something important.” He brought his attention back to Victoria.
“That’s why I wanted to switch to physiatry after Spring’s injury.
” His lips smashed together. “But then Dad shot that down.”
“Oh, sweetie. I know it seems like that. And we both know Dad is not very delicate or tactful with his advice.”
Hank gave a little snort, his mouth angling into a half smile. “Is that what you call it?”
She chuckled. “He really does love you and wants what’s best for you.”
“Which is whatever he wants.”
She paused, thinking a moment before continuing. “In a way, yes, but what he wants is truly what he believes is best for you.”
“What if he doesn’t know what’s best for me?”
A viable possibility. But Victoria kept the thought to herself. In this case, she wasn’t convinced Hank’s sudden change of mind about neurosurgery was a good thing either. “Drink your hot chocolate, and let’s think this through.”
At least that returned the light of a smile to his eyes. “Okay, sis.” He reached for his mug and took another sip of the hot brew.
“You’ve always wanted to be a neurosurgeon since the time you were a child. You played that game where you pretended to perform operations.”
“Lots of kids like that game, Vicki.”
“All right, but when you reached middle school and high school, you were drawn to science and always said you wanted to become a neurosurgeon.”
“Yeah.” His gaze drifted to the wall, as if he was far away, lost in thought. “But what if I only believed that because Dad programmed me to think that way?”
“Hank.” She sent him a skeptical gaze. “Please. You know you weren’t programmed or brainwashed. You can check with Robert, if you don’t believe me.”
“No.” A self-deprecating smile shaped his expression. “Sorry. You’re right. I did want to. But now…I just started to see things differently recently.”
“When Spring had her accident.”
His blue eyes shot to Victoria’s face. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Hank,” Victoria leaned closer and rested her hand on his shoulder, “you are the most compassionate person I know. It’s truly a gift, and you will make a wonderful doctor because you have that empathy and compassion.”
His lips tugged up at one side. “I hear a but coming.”
She smiled. “But that compassion can also sway you to make sudden decisions or perhaps poor decisions that are based on the emotion you feel at the moment.”
“You think I only want to switch to physiatry because I want to help Spring.”
Victoria nodded. “And others like her, yes. That’s a good thing. But you must remember that you would have a huge impact on people’s lives as a surgeon, too. You would save lives every day.”
“True.” His mouth worked as it always did when he was deep in thought. “But it doesn’t seem like enough somehow.” Discontentment weighted his voice, cinching her ribs.
She wanted to see him happy and fulfilled. But more than that, he needed to do the right thing. Praise the Lord, Hank was a Christian as Spring and Victoria were. She could go deeper with him and give him the kind of help that would truly make a difference. “Have you prayed about this?”
Surprise lifted his eyebrows. “You mean about Dad? You think I’m not honoring him the way the Bible says I should?”
“Well, that is a point, and you’d need to pray about that. But I was actually thinking of your vocation. Have you asked God to show you what He wants you to do for your career? That’s so much more important than what I think or even what Dad wants.”
“Right, as usual, Vicki. I can’t say I have been praying about it, at least not as much as I should.
I’ll take more time to do that.” He shot her a glance that looked almost guilty.
“And you’re right about my emotions running all over the place.
Yesterday, I actually thought I might switch to pediatric oncology. ”
“What brought that on?”
“I read an article about a three-year-old girl who’s suffering from a rare form of acute leukemia. They haven’t found a successful treatment for it yet.”
“See?” She squeezed his shoulder. “You’re compassionate.”
“And confused, I guess.” He let out a laugh as he set his mug on the table and stood. “Anybody told you lately that you’re the best and wisest sister ever?”
She rose and smiled at her little brother, who now towered over her. “I believe you just did. I love you, Hank.”
“Love you, too, Vicki.” Hank bent and enveloped her in a hug with his long arms. “Oh.” He pulled back. “I should’ve asked—how was your day? You look beat.”
The urge to share pressed against her lips—about the hostage situation at her client’s, Cillian materializing out of the past, and the brief meeting with him she still couldn’t forget.
The anxiety that was making itself at home in her stomach and mind.
The unease about Thomas’s odd behavior and his hints of some kind of danger.
But she hadn’t had the luxury of pouring out her heart and thoughts to anyone since she was fifteen. She had a much more important purpose and duty to fulfill.
She smiled. “It was fine. Now go home, go to bed, and don’t give this another thought until you’ve had a good rest.”
“Roger.” Hank chuckled as he said goodnight to her and then Max before leaving through the garage.
Vicki went to retrieve her work notebook computer and begin the long night of documentation. She would do her best to take her own advice and not give her clients’ personal problems or her own—Cillian included—another thought.
The Lord’s mercies were new every morning. She would rest in that promise to face tomorrow. Whatever her heavenly Father had in store, He would provide all she needed to weather it in His strength.