“So, how is it? In general, I mean.”
Cecilia felt a stupid grin spread across her face. “All in all—it’s great.”
Vanessa sighed dramatically. “Just as I suspected. Oh, well, we old married ladies just have to be content with fantasizing.”
“As if you’d rather have anyone other than George.”
At the mention of her pudgy, balding and incredibly sweet husband, Vanessa giggled. “True. But that doesn’t stop me from daydreaming about Denzel Washington occasionally. The occasional romantic fantasy never hurt any woman.”
Cecilia supposed that was true—as long as the woman never let herself get so carried away with the daydream that she lost sight of the difference between fantasy and reality.
She was relieved when Vanessa was suddenly distracted. “Look, there’s Detective Collins snooping around again. I hear he’s been asking an awful lot of questions about our security protocols for controlled substances.”
“The Orcadol epidemic again. He seems convinced he’s going to find some leads here.”
“I don’t know, something about the way he’s been skulking around here is starting to get my back up. Especially the way he watches Mari—as if he thinks she’s deliberately interfering with his investigation or something. Just because she’s too busy to be at his beck and call….”
A discussion about the drug crisis ensued, both Vanessa and Cecilia expressing concern about the toll it was taking on the young people in a community already burdened with poverty and illiteracy. By the time they had discussed several ideas for combating the problem through public awareness campaigns, they had finished their respective sandwiches and had to get back to work.
Determined to put thoughts of Geoff out of her mind—or at least, push them to the back of her thoughts—Cecilia headed for the examining rooms to visit with yet another expectant mother.
Geoff was having a bit of trouble concentrating on his work. He had no difficulty pinpointing the source of his distraction. The image of Cecilia Mendoza’s pretty smile was too clear in his mind to leave him in any doubt.
Remembering the state of exhaustion he’d been in when he’d finally left her house last night, he chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t at all sure he would survive the next couple of weeks, but as the old saying went, at least he would go out with a smile on his face.
A disembodied voice came from a speaker on his rarely used desk. “Mr. Bingham, your father is on line two.”
He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
Ron Bingham’s voice was a rich baritone that suited his distinguished appearance. Still trim and fit at fifty-four, he had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Geoff had been told for as long as he could remember that he had inherited his father’s clear hazel eyes.
“I thought maybe you would like to have lunch today. Seems like you and I have hardly had a chance to see each other except in passing or in a crowd since you got into town.”
There was a restless tone in Ron’s voice that Geoff had been hearing more frequently lately. As Mari and Geoff became busier and more involved in their own lives, giving them less time to spend with their father, and as Ron passed over more of the responsibilities of running the family business to his offspring, Geoff wondered if Ron was feeling a bit at a loss.
Ron had always planned to retire with his beloved wife—leaving them free to travel and work in their spectacular gardens and continue their community activities. Violet’s untimely death had left her grieving widower to face a future alone, and he made sure to grumble at every opportunity about the lack of grandchildren to spoil in his spare time.
Geoff had no doubt that Ron would be delighted to welcome Geoff’s child into the family, especially once he recovered from the shock and skepticism. In fact, Geoff thought his father would be delighted with Cecilia as the grandchild’s mother if Ron had a chance to spend some time getting to know her.
Thinking it would have been nice if she could have joined them for lunch, Geoff said, “Sure, Dad. Lunch sounds good. I haven’t had a chance to look up all day and I could use the break.”
“Great. We can catch up. You can tell me when you found time to sneak into midwifery classes.”
“When I did what? Oh. You heard about the theater incident.”
“Yes. I heard you helped deliver a strapping baby boy. Nice job, son, but must you take business from our clinic?”
“Trust me, I’d have been delighted to send her to the clinic. But her baby apparently has a thing for action films. Kid’s probably going to be a stunt man or something.”
Ron laughed. “I can’t wait to hear all the details. Including how you ended up being at the theater with Eric Mendoza’s sister. I didn’t even know you two were acquainted.”
Geoff was already planning a carefully edited description of his friendship with Cecilia when he hung up the phone with a promise to meet his father in half an hour.
It was after 7:00 p.
m. by the time Cecilia climbed out of her car that evening. Geoff had some sort of meeting with investors that night, so they wouldn’t be seeing each other.
She should probably be looking forward to an evening alone to read and catch up on some chores around her house. She wasn’t usually the type to want to spend every evening doing something or seeing people. Usually, after a long day of dealing with people at the clinic, she was perfectly content to spend a few hours in peaceful solitude.