A Perfect Homecoming. Lisa Dyson

good at coming up with unique ways to get people to part with their money.

      Which didn’t mean she never regretted giving up medicine—specifically working with children. She loved being in an office full of laughing and crying little ones, the noise and confusion never more than she could bear.

      Until her last miscarriage.

      That was the child she was supposed to finally carry to term. She’d made it into her second trimester and had begun telling people she was pregnant.

      She crossed her arms over her abdomen and bent forward in pain at the vivid memory of that first wave of cramps that had ended her dream of giving Kyle the child he deserved.

      “Are you okay?”

      Ashleigh straightened at the young woman’s voice. “Yes, I’m fine.” Ryan sat in his wheelchair in front of a woman in purple scrubs. Her name tag read “Molly,” but she didn’t look familiar. She didn’t appear to recognize Ashleigh, either.

      “Ryan’s all done.” Molly had a perky lilt that matched her smile. “Dr. Jennings and Dr. Phillips asked for him to wait with you while they consult with the radiologist.”

      Ashleigh’s jaw clenched. She was being shut out again. She’d known the radiologist, Jim Gorman, since preschool. Under other circumstances she’d barge into his office, but she decided not to push the issue. In the short time she’d been at the hospital, several old acquaintances had given her a wide berth. They obviously weren’t fans of hers since the divorce.

      Molly turned and left them alone in the waiting area.

      “How’s your arm feeling?” Ashleigh asked Ryan.

      “Okay, I guess. They let me see the picture of my arm bone. It was cool!” He busied himself locating hidden pictures in a kids’ magazine someone had given him, so Ashleigh didn’t say anything more.

      She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes for a moment before realizing the voices around the corner were speaking about Kyle.

      “It’s a shame about Dr. Jennings,” one female voice said.

      “I know, he’s so nice. And cute, too.” The other female let out a quiet moan.

      Ashleigh listened carefully, assuming they were discussing how she’d divorced poor Dr. Jennings, when two other people deep in conversation entered the waiting room. As they walked past her to the reception desk, Ashleigh could no longer hear the women.

      So she rose from her seat and pretended to search for a magazine on the vertical acrylic rack bolted to the wall, while tuning her ears to the conversation around the corner.

      She could only pick up certain words, but they were important words.

      Accident, lawsuit, brain injury.

      * * *

      PAULA ROLLED FROM her side to her back and stared at the bedroom ceiling until she was ready to scream. Or at least until she found herself out of breath, forcing her to roll back onto her left side.

      A few minutes ago, Mark had slammed the front door to announce his arrival and now she heard him rooting through kitchen cupboards searching for a snack.

      “Don’t spoil your dinner,” she yelled.

      “I won’t,” he promised, and she believed him. He’d been going through a growth spurt and he consumed food and outgrew clothing before the money left the checking account.

      Paula struggled to a sitting position. Propping herself up with pillows against the headboard, she took her laptop from the drawer next to her bed and turned it on.

      She needed to let Scott know what was going on. Kyle had confirmed Ryan’s arm was broken when he called about a half hour ago, but she didn’t want her husband to know the doctor had put her on bed rest. He had enough stress with his job and he didn’t need to have to worry about her, too.

      “This is all my fault.” She spoke quietly to the empty room, choking up. “All my fault.”

      As she typed an email to Scott, her fingers kept hitting the wrong keys because her eyes had blurred from gathering tears. She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks and onto the overstretched but clean shirt she’d put on after her shower.

      She should be out of tears—she’d spent her entire shower sobbing. Bed rest. They sounded like the cruelest words ever. She should have taken her son to the emergency room.

      She wiped the moisture from her cheeks and concentrated on the email.

      Hey, Scott, I miss you so much. I hope you’re safe in whatever ocean you’re navigating.

      Mark is doing well. He got an A on his spelling test this week and you know how much trouble he’s had in the past. He also had an assist in his soccer game. They lost three to one, but he was happy anyway.

      Unfortunately, Ryan had a bike accident this afternoon and his arm is broken. Before you panic, it’s a simple break, no surgery needed. He’ll be in a cast for four to six weeks. Kyle is making sure he’s well taken care of. In fact, Kyle has been a huge help with the boys while you’ve been away. We should do something nice for him when you get back.

      I saw the doctor today and my blood pressure is a little higher than it should be. Again, no need to worry. I’m doing exactly what she says.

      Believe it or not, my sister arrived this afternoon. Aunt Viv called her and blew my situation all out of proportion. Ashleigh got here right before Ryan got hurt, so she was able to take him to the E.R. I have no idea how it went with her and Kyle, but she should be home with Ryan any time now.

      I think that brings you up to speed. Always remember, I love you bunches and can’t wait until you’re back in my arms.

      Paula hit Send and closed her laptop. She leaned her head back, missing the top of the pillow and hitting the headboard instead. Scooting to a more comfortable position would take too much energy. She simply shut her eyes and breathed deeply...until the next interruption came.

      Her friends, Rhonda and Jean, had both brought over casseroles earlier and now apparently word was out that she was bedridden because she’d gotten several phone calls with offers of help.

      Unsure if she drifted off or not, her eyes popped open at the tinkling sound of a text message on her cell phone. She reached over to the nightstand to pick it up.

      Scott. He must have read her email already because he wanted to video chat.

      She pulled her computer onto her lap again and opened the program that would bring his face into their bedroom.

      “Hey, Paula,” Scott said when they connected. “How are you?” His usually laughing blue eyes were filled with concern and she couldn’t help but feel his love.

      “Okay.” She tried to keep her tone light, but her voice cracked. She put a hand to her mouth.

      “Everything will be fine, P.”

      His soothing tone allowed her to take a few calming breaths.

      “Do you need me to come home?” he asked. “I can talk to the chaplain and apply for hardship if this blood pressure thing is serious.”

      “No, no, that’s okay. Everyone’s been so nice, offering help and bringing meals so I can take it easy. And I told you Ashleigh’s here.”

      He chuckled. “Yeah, how’s that going?”

      “Kind of chilly,” she admitted. “But we haven’t spent much time together yet. Ryan’s injury interrupted us.”

      “Maybe her visit is what the two of you need to work things out.”

      “Yeah. Exactly what I need right now to keep my blood pressure down,” she joked.

      “Just follow doctor’s orders.”

      “I know.” She tried to sound