A Perfect Homecoming. Lisa Dyson

notation on Stan’s chart.

      As Kyle walked back to the waiting room, a thought occurred to him. Ashleigh would have to deal with Stan’s health issues and necessary absence since she still owned the practice.

      Kyle wasn’t sure why she hadn’t sold it. Beyond family, it was her last tie to the town.

      Now he needed to figure out how to get someone else to make the call to Ashleigh to let her know Stan’s condition.

      He dialed her pediatric practice from memory and the office manager answered. Cammie was the perfect choice to pass on the news about Stan to Ashleigh.

      * * *

      AFTER LEAVING HER pediatric office, Ashleigh spent the morning stopping at a few of her favorite places in town. There were some things she couldn’t get in Richmond that she’d grown accustomed to in Grand Oaks. Like the homemade bread from Mama’s Bakery on Market Street and a fresh supply of dry red wine from Mossy Oak Vineyard.

      She’d barely pulled into the parking lot of the vineyard, located about two miles out of town, when her cell phone rang.

      Why would someone from her pediatric practice be calling? “Hello?”

      “Dr. Wilson?”

      “Yes?” Ashleigh answered.

      “This is Cammie, um, Cammie Varrone, the office manager at Dr. Mitchell’s—I mean your— pediatric office.”

      “Yes, Cammie, what is it?”

      “Well, I’m afraid Dr. Mitchell is in the hospital—”

      “Oh, no! What happened? Is he all right?” Ashleigh’s heart was in her throat as she waited for details. She’d barely left him a few hours ago.

      “He apparently had a heart attack,” she said with a trembling voice.

      A heart attack? He was too young for that, she thought, even though the doctor in her knew he wasn’t. “How bad?”

      “They’re not sure how much damage his heart sustained.”

      “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll call the hospital and see if they have an update.”

      “Um, Dr. Wilson?”

      “Yes?” Was there more?

      “We have no one to take over Dr. Mitchell’s caseload.”

      Cammie didn’t know about Ashleigh and Stan’s schedule, so Ashleigh filled her in. “What about Dr. Charles?” Livvy Charles had a pediatric office in the next town over and served as Stan Mitchell’s backup. Ashleigh couldn’t handle the practice full-time and take care of her sister and nephews, too.

      Silence. “She’s on maternity leave,” Cammie finally said. “Her baby was born a few days ago and Dr. Mitchell has been seeing her patients.”

      Of course he was.

      “Okay.” Ashleigh sighed. “Let me figure out what to do and I’ll get back to you.”

      “I’ve canceled all the well-baby and physical appointments for today, but I don’t know what to do about the rest.”

      Ashleigh considered her options. The pediatric practice was still her responsibility—she should have sold it before moving to Richmond.

      “You did good, Cammie. Give me half an hour and I’ll be over to figure out how to handle this.”

      They disconnected and Ashleigh remained in the vineyard parking lot to make some phone calls. Unfortunately, no one was available to step in and no one knew anyone they could recommend.

      After nearly fifteen minutes, she finally hit upon Samantha Collins—an old medical school colleague who could fill in temporarily. The only problem was that Samantha couldn’t come for a few days due to teaching obligations. But Ashleigh could deal with that.

      Ashleigh let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks so much, Sam.”

      “This will be fun,” she told Ashleigh. “I don’t get to practice nearly as much since I took this teaching job at the medical school.”

      They spoke for a few more minutes before Ashleigh ended the call. There was no way around it. She would have to take over the practice until Sam got here.

      Now she—and Paula—had no other choice. Ashleigh would have to find someone to help out at her sister’s, at least part-time.

      Ashleigh made a few more phone calls and ended her search for household help successfully.

      She called Paula. “How’s it going?”

      “Fine.” Paula’s lack of enthusiasm wasn’t a surprise.

      “Stan Mitchell had a heart attack.” Ashleigh hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but she’d lost the ability to converse normally with her sister.

      Paula gasped. “Is he okay?” Ashleigh related what she knew about Stan and then told her about the young woman who would be helping out.

      “Mrs. Baxter, next door to you, has a twenty-two-year-old granddaughter who’s looking for work. She says the two of you met last Christmas. Emma graduated from college in December and is willing to help out until she finds a full-time teaching job. Her degree is in elementary education.” Ashleigh paused a second. “She can get the boys off to school, do laundry and grocery shop. Then I can take over when I get home.”

      Paula was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. Ashleigh was about to speak when Paula finally said, “I guess that will work.”

      “Then I’ll see you after I get things straightened out in the office. Emma will come over right away.”

      Ashleigh put the car into Reverse and backed out of the space.

      So much for the wine.

      Not long after that, Ashleigh pulled up in front of Paula’s. “I’m here,” she called out cheerfully when she entered the house.

      “I’m still in bed,” Paula groused, her tone of voice cool.

      Her sister was sitting up in bed, paperwork spread out around her that appeared to be bills. Her hair was damp and secured with combs away from her face. Her creamy complexion was flushed. She looked at Ashleigh, apparently waiting for her to speak first.

      “Did it work out with Emma?” Ashleigh asked.

      Paula shrugged unenthusiastically. “I guess so.” She wasn’t about to make this easy, was she? “She just left.”

      “What did she make you for lunch?” Ashleigh asked.

      “I told her I wasn’t hungry.”

      Unacceptable. Lunchtime had come and gone a few hours ago. Keeping her censure to herself, she went to fix Paula some lunch, whether she wanted it or not.

      * * *

      LESS THAN AN hour later, Ashleigh was entrenched in her former office at the pediatric practice her father opened in the late sixties. She drummed her fingers on the desk as she waited to see her first patient in two years.

      She took in the strangely unfamiliar surroundings. This was Stan’s domain now, with his diplomas and awards displayed on the walls. Pictures of his wife and two grown daughters were arranged on the credenza, along with a photo of a black lab with a stick in its mouth.

      Stan initially told her he wanted to work part-time after putting in so many grueling hours at his last job. Ashleigh expected to have her work cut out convincing him to return to his hometown, but it hadn’t taken much coaxing after he realized he’d be able to play golf and tennis at the refurbished country club. As soon as they’d settled into their newly renovated farmhouse on ten acres outside of town, his wife had jumped right into the Grand Oaks Garden Club.

      How was Linda doing now? Ashleigh could only imagine how worried she must be.

      She