Radclyffe - Turn Back Time

When Wynter returned, ready to don new gloves and a clean gown, Pearce was leaning against the anesthesia machine, laughing at something Ken had just said. As Wynter stepped up to the table, Pearce said, "You okay?"

"Fine. Just a little bit swollen."

"I know how much that can hurt. If you want me to scrub the rest of the case--"

"Oh sure," Ken interjected teasingly, "I bet she's just trying to get out of moving furniture tomorrow. Seems like a cheap trick to me."

Pearce raised a questioning brow.

"Go ahead, Liu," Wynter said, redirecting the resident to the case.

"Put that suture in before the wound heals by itself...and try to miss my finger this time."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just don't do it again." Wynter kept her tone light, but all business. Once the resident had safely placed the first suture, she glanced at Pearce. "I'm moving tomorrow."

For a second, Pearce had a vision of Wynter sharing an apartment with some unknown man. Sharing the moments of her day, her bed, her life. She searched for words and couldn't find any.

Wynter, her attention back on the field, continued, "My daughter and I've been staying with Ken and his wife since I moved here. I just got a sublet in the other half of their Victorian for six months. It's perfect while I look for a permanent place."

"That's good," Pearce finally managed.

"Yeah," Ken said. "We're glad she's not going far. You're welcome to come and help move furniture tomorrow, Pearce."

Neither Pearce nor Wynter said anything.

Ken continued, oblivious to the silence. "We're having pizza and beer after."

Pearce spoke before she could change her mind. "I never pass up free beer. I'll be there."

"Don't break that when you tie it down," Wynter instructed, suddenly looking forward to the next day's labor. Moving hadn't been her choice as to how to spend her first full weekend off, but now, it didn't seem quite so bad.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"You don't have to do this, you know," Wynter said when Pearce entered the locker room the next morning. She tucked in her blouse and tossed her scrubs into the nearby laundry basket.

"Hey, I already signed on for the detail." Pearce banged open the steel door of her locker and draped her white coat over the metal hook.

Then she stripped off her scrub top and exchanged it for a navy blue rugby shirt. "When is everyone getting together?"

"About eleven. That gives those of us who were on call last night time to go home and get cleaned up." Wynter resisted the urge to look down as Pearce stepped out of her pants and tugged on threadbare 501s. While Pearce buttoned up, Wynter shrugged into her knee-length woolen coat and eyed the brown leather bomber jacket that Pearce tugged out of her locker. "Don't you freeze in that?"

"This?" Pearce said, pulling on the jacket. "No way. It's the real deal. My grandfather was a Navy flight surgeon."

Wynter smoothed her hand down the sleeve, amazed at the suppleness of the leather. Pearce looked young and tough and outrageously attractive in it. Fleetingly, Wynter wondered just when it was that she'd begun to think of women that way, but she quickly pushed the question aside. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks." Pearce held her breath, watching Wynter's face soften with pleasure. At that moment, she'd have given anything she had if only that look were for her. Warning bells clanged, and she reminded herself why she wasn't going down that road. "It keeps me warm."

Wynter lifted her eyes to Pearce's, her fingers still resting on the jacket. "I bet it does."

"See you in a little while," Pearce murmured, sidestepping over the bench and out of touching range.

"Come hungry," Wynter called after her.

"Count on it." Pearce laughed as she shouldered out the door.

That's my problem.

v "Who are you waiting for?" Mina asked.

"No one," Wynter said.

"You've been watching that clock like an expectant father. So don't tell me no one."

Wynter blushed. "I was just checking..." She saw Mina's eyes narrow the way they did when one of the kids was telling a particularly clumsy fib. She sighed. "My senior resident is supposed to come over to help out. That's all."

"Dr. Hotty Pants?"

"Shh," Wynter admonished, stifling a laugh. "Someone will hear you."

"All the men are in the living room plotting strategy. You'd think they were going to war and not unloading a truck full of furniture.

Speaking of which, they're late."

"When have you ever known a delivery service to be on time? Everything about this move happened so quickly, I'm just grateful I don't have to leave everything in storage for the next year."

Ken walked into the kitchen and threw an arm around Mina's shoulders. "The truck is just pulling up out front. Is your sister with the kids?"

"They're all tucked away upstairs with Chloe and a roomful of toys. If anyone wants me, I'll be next door in Wynter's new kitchen telling her where to put everything. I just adore organizing kitchens."

"Yeah, and just about everything else," Ken said good-naturedly.

He kissed Mina and hurried outside to continue his supervisory role.

Wynter looked after him fondly. "I don't know what I'd do without you and all the rest of your family. I--"

"Just hush up. You and Ronnie are family. Now let's get going before those men put everything in the wrong place."

They made it as far as the front porch before Mina stopped so abruptly that Wynter nearly ran into her. The eighteen-foot delivery truck had backed up onto the sidewalk, and its tailgate now rested on the wooden steps that led up to the wide front porch of the other half of the Victorian twin. A small cluster of people congregated by the open truck bed, most of them gesticulating and talking at once. One person stood apart observing the conclave, legs spread and arms folded, sporting an amused expression.

"Well doesn't she make an interesting picture," Mina said softly.

"Would that be your Dr. Hotty Pants?"

"Mina," Wynter hissed, "for God's sake...she'll hear. "

"Ooh, she's a real looker. I bet plenty of men have been brokenhearted to find out she plays for the other team."

Pearce glanced up to the porch idly, then fixed on Wynter and waved. "Hey."

"Hey." Wynter waved back, unable to put the image of Pearce--in low-slung black jeans, scuffed brown boots worn down at the heels, and olive-green army jacket with faded patches where the insignia had once been--together with a man. It didn't seem right. "You think? She doesn't seem like the type guys would go for."

"It's not what she's wearing, honey, it's her face. She's beautiful- and I bet she's got a body to match under that bad-boy get up."

"She does. And I think she looks great exactly the way she is,"

Wynter said. Pearce was just Pearce. An attractive, desirable woman where everything fit just the way it should. Her looks, her brains, her spirit. Her charm. Oh my God. What am I thinking.

"Did I say she didn't?" Mina gave her a look, then ambled over to the porch rail and called down. "You sure you want to get mixed up with these crazy men, honey?"

"I figure someone needs to keep them out of trouble," Pearce called back.

Mina laughed. "Well, good luck. You'll need it."

Wynter joined Pearce on the sidewalk while Mina headed for Wynter's new house. "You made it."

"Just in time, it looks like."

"I'm going to direct traffic inside. If you get tired, don't feel you need to stay--"

"Are you kidding? These are a bunch of anesthesiologists and internists, for crying out loud. They'll quit a long time before me." She scanned the porch, looking for the glimpse of Wynter's life that she didn't know. "Where's your daughter?"

"Upstairs with Mina's sister and Ken and Mina's kids. I'll introduce you later--if you want."