Misbehaving in Merritt by Alicia Hunter Pace

Author:Alicia Hunter Pace [Hunter Pace, Alicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2016-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Twenty-five hours and fourteen minutes ought to be enough time for anyone to cool down, no matter how badly they had been insulted.

And Max had insulted Audrey. He’d seen that pretty quickly after she’d slammed out of Lou Anne’s. In fact, he’d jumped up to follow her, but Lou Anne had appeared out of thin air and stepped between him and the door. “Don’t do it, baby. I wasn’t listening so I don’t know what all that was about, but I’ve seen a het up woman flounce out of that door enough times to know what it means. Let her simmer down.”

So he had, for an hour, but she hadn’t answered the phone then or any of the other fifteen times he’d tried to call since. And wasn’t that part of why she was upset? Because he didn’t call? So now he was calling, and she wouldn’t talk. It made no sense. Still, he tried again. Straight to voice mail this time, with a message that her box was full. Great. Not only would she not take his calls, she wouldn’t listen to his messages.

The door opened, and his nurse stuck her head in. “Anything else today, Dr. Buchanan?” They closed the office at three on Thursdays to do paperwork and to make it up to the support staff for the days they had to stay after five.

“No, Kelly. Thanks. Have a nice afternoon.”

Not that he would. He reached for the files for the referrals he needed to write, but found himself replaying yesterday’s conversation with Audrey—again.

The other times he’d reflected on the conversation, he’d glossed over the part about how he was treating his mother, but this time it took hold—and a fresh batch of shame with it. Audrey had been right. There had been grilled cheese sandwiches, birthday cupcakes, and much, much more—Halloween costumes, birthday parties, lavish Easter baskets. Sometimes it seemed the camera in her hand was an extra appendage because it was always there, recording every special and ordinary event in his life—except she’d thought all of the events of his life were special. It had annoyed him at the time, but it would never have occurred to him that every mother wasn’t like his. The picture taking was another sign of her constant, unconditional love and support. And that had not diminished even if the picture taking had.

It was time he shaped up—on so many levels.

He pushed the folders aside. Clearly, he was no good today. He’d come in early in the morning and do it.

In the parking lot, he reached for his sunglasses and shed his jacket. March had come in like a lamb with bright sunshine and temperatures that were more typical for April, but were not unheard of for March. It wouldn’t last, but there would be more of these days mixed with cooler temperatures and cloudier skies.

If he knew Nathan Scott—though he didn’t, not really—he’d have his team on the field, and if he knew Audrey—and apparently didn’t know her either—she’d be taking pictures.

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