A Doctor in His House. Lilian Darcy

now, she was just glad that Andy was here.

      “Open your eyes,” Andy ordered.

      She did so, to be greeted by blurring and multiple images and blinding light.

      “Your pupils aren’t contracting,” Andy said. “That’s why it feels so bright. You’re not focusing at all.”

      “Tell me about it!”

      There was a pause. “Still biting your nails, Scarlett?”

      “What’s that got to do with anything?” But she hid her raw-tipped little fingers in the curl of her hand, self-conscious.

      “Migraine can be stress related.”

      To head off a lecture, she just blurted it out. “I resigned, okay?”

      “You what?”

      “I resigned from the hospital.” She had to talk carefully and quietly, or her head hurt too much. “Dad doesn’t know. He thinks it’s just a vacation break. I’ll have a month here, as planned, but I’m not going back to City Children’s.”

      “When will you tell him?” Andy knew as well as Scarlett did that Dad wouldn’t approve the decision.

      “When I’ve worked out what I’m going to do next.”

      “And you haven’t, yet? You have no idea?”

      “That’s what the next month is about. I know he’s going to kill me. Or not speak to me for five years.”

      “Wow.”

      “What?”

      “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Thought you should. Didn’t think you would.”

      “Neither did I.” She was a little scared about it, too. Was she giving up medicine completely? Giving up pediatric oncology? She didn’t know. All she knew was that being the smartest one in the family wasn’t making her happy, the way Dad was so sure that it should.

      “Is a month going to be long enough?”

      “Don’t know that, either.” Who was she, if she wasn’t a doctor? Who did she want to be?

      He wasn’t going to let the subject go. “Do you have any concrete plans for how you’re going to spend your time up here?”

      This one, she could answer with confidence. “Woodwork.”

      “Woodwork?”

      “I want to learn to do something with my hands, something practical and creative.” Something sensual, almost, but she didn’t feel comfortable using this word out loud. Wood? Sensual? It sounded weird. She went on, “But I’m not—you know, much into fabric or yarn. I’ve been in contact with a man up here, Aaron Bailey, who makes fine furniture and he’s happy to have me as an unpaid intern for as few or as many hours a week as I want.”

      “Scarlett, that’s great!”

      “I know.” No, don’t nod. It’s painful and dizzying. “I’m looking forward to it. I’m giving myself a few days and starting with him on Monday. I’ve told him I’ll start with sweeping shavings off the floor and just see how far I get. Maybe it will tell me something about my life.”

      “Seriously, Scarlett, I think that’s a really great idea!”

      “Thank you,” she drawled at her brother. “I do have them occasionally.”

      She registered that Andy had said her name a couple of times now, and that this time Daniel Porter couldn’t possibly have misheard, as he was standing in the room, probably looking right at her. Even though he hadn’t said it, he must know who she was, despite the fact that she was thinner and had long ago abandoned her brief exploration of short and blonde.

      Did he know that she knew him? Did he know that she knew that he knew that she knew?

      It was more dizzying than the state of her brain.

      It was weird.

      “I’ll get a stronger painkiller for your head,” Andy said. “And what do you feel like eating? I can go to the store.”

      “You’re driving down to the city this afternoon,” she reminded him. “I’m supposed to be moving in next door, to your vacant rental, not collapsing on your couch and having you take care of me.”

      “I can postpone the trip till you’re feeling better. I’ll head down tomorrow or Saturday.”

      “I’m not letting you do that. Claudia is expecting you. She needs you. She wants you. Go today.”

      She knew how important the trip was to him. He’d worked the past two weekends in a row, covering for colleagues who would in turn cover for him, for the next six days while he went to New York to spend time with his girlfriend, Claudia.

      Claudia was starting back part-time at work this coming Monday, three days a week, and despite this reduction from the full-time hours she’d once planned, she was very jittery about leaving her three-month-old baby in day care. Andy wanted to be there for her, there for baby Ben, and then they would both come up here again next Thursday before Claudia needed to head back to the city the following Sunday afternoon.

      Yeah, it did sound overcomplicated.

      Since Claudia was the best thing that had happened to Andy in a long time and he was quite adorably in love with her, if you could ever consider an older brother adorable in any context, Scarlett absolutely did not intend to ruin their plans.

      She didn’t think this dividing-their-time-between-New-York-and-Vermont thing was going to work for them for long. Not when there was a baby involved. And she couldn’t bear the idea of being responsible for them having less time together, instead of more, until they worked out a more concrete future. They were exploring several options, she knew. The one thing they were both certain of was that they wanted to be together, and to make it work.

      “So you’ll manage on your own,” Andy said, delivering the words with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

      “I’ll be fine in a few hours.” But she knew this was too optimistic. Her last migraine, less severe than this, had required two days off work. She’d spent a further day gritting her teeth and pushing her way through the aftermath of a weak body and a woolly brain. Being here on her own, even with stronger painkillers, wouldn’t be fun.

      Silence from Andy.

      She could feel his hesitation. He wanted so badly to be in New York, this minute or sooner. “I can’t leave you on your own yet.” The words dripped with reluctance. “I could see if Mom could drive up and—”

      “Not Mom.” Because then Dad would get involved, and Dad didn’t believe in stress-related migraine, not in the McKinley family. And she absolutely didn’t want to have him find out yet that she’d left City Children’s Hospital, because she knew that even if he understood and forgave her at all—and she was sure he wouldn’t—he would still push her to make decisions about the future right now, and she knew she wasn’t ready.

      McKinley medics were invincible, as far as he was concerned, and Scarlett didn’t want to have to confront him on the subject until she was actually feeling invincible. With answers. And certainty.

      Dad had reacted badly enough to the little she had said. He’d spent weeks trying to talk her out of this break. As the youngest daughter and only girl, she should have been the one he spoiled and doted on, and okay, she was, but Dad’s form of doting had always been a little different. IQ tests and puzzle books and mathematical challenges, prizes for perfect grades, summer science camps and father-daughter museum trips. She’d felt all the love and pride and pressure, and she felt it still.

      “And anyhow, Mom couldn’t get here before nightfall, so you’d still lose nearly a whole day,” she told her brother, with difficulty.

      Daniel Porter hadn’t said a