A Wedding on Lilac Lane by Hope Ramsay (best book clubs .txt) 📕

“Well, now that I know the story, I’m not exactly sorry for the captain. He deserves his misery,” she said.

“You think?”

“Yeah. The guy should have married Rose instead of running off to gain a fortune by robbing people on the high seas.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Jackie. Captain Teal wasn’t a hero. He fell in love with Rose, and then he left her to raise a kid on her own.” Ella left out the part where the famous pirate talked Rose out of her virtue, although Jackie seemed to understand all the sordid details of the story. Nevertheless, some of her irritation at Cody Callaghan managed to infect her tone. Cody had never walked out on her, exactly, although he’d been unfaithful more times than she could count. And now he was coming to her like the famous Captain William Teal, only he was sailing across the country in his land yacht.

What was he going to do when he got here? Sweep her off her feet? Hand her some line? Or try to rehire her as his fiddler? Two of the three options were possible.

But she was like Rose Howland now. Someone else had come along to sweep her off her feet. Only problem was, he might not be exactly suitable.

*  *  *

Dylan showed up for work on Thursday bleary eyed. He’d gotten what he wanted last night because Ella had stayed until almost dawn. He’d driven her back to the inn at 5:00 a.m. so she would be ready for breakfast service.

Heaven help them if Ashley Scott figured out what was going on and blabbed her mouth. On the other hand, maybe it would be better to get in front of the crap storm by telling the truth. Dylan hated sneaking around.

The day was exceptionally busy for him, with office hours at the free clinic, which was always slightly overwhelmed with too many patients.

As he made it through the day, Ella was always on his mind. There, just below the surface. But Dylan was a realist. Ella would never settle here in Magnolia Harbor. She wasn’t the kind who settled down. She was a lot like the fireflies he used to catch on a summer evening in the backyard. Incandescent, but free. He could hold that light for an hour or so, but he’d learned quickly as a child that no one can trap a firefly forever. If he pinned her down, she’d lose her glow.

As much as he wanted to shout to the world that he was falling in love, he couldn’t do it. Not just because of who Ella was, but because he and Ella weren’t a forever thing. Three nights between the sheets did not a relationship make.

So he pushed the entire situation out of his mind as best he could and spent a crazy day at the clinic that kept him busy until five when he finally retreated to his office to review emails.

The emails were routine, requiring not much in the way of responses until he got to the one from the endocrinologist in Georgetown. The doc was following up with a copy of Ginny Whittle’s test results.

He stared at the report for a full minute as it dawned on him that he’d been right. Ginny’s symptoms were not all in her head. She had diabetes insipidus.

Dad had been wrong about Mrs. Whittle.

The idea of Dad making mistakes sent cold prickling across his skin. What if this was a pattern? What if Dad was losing it?

Should he keep these lab results from his father?

No. He was overreacting. He printed the email and test results and headed down the hall to Dad’s office with the intention of leaving the printout on his desk.

But Dad was at work still.

“Hey, you got a minute?” he asked.

“Sure.” Dad gestured toward his side chair.

“I got back Ginny Whittle’s results,” Dylan said, settling into the chair.

Dad looked up from his tablet out of a pair of tired eyes. Whoa. What was up with that? He looked bone weary.

“Are you okay?” Dylan asked.

Dad leaned back in his ancient office chair, the springs squealing as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You don’t look fine. When was the last time you had a physical?”

Dad chuckled. “Six months ago. I’m fine. I just stayed up too late last night binge-watching Breaking Bad.”

“We watched that together years ago.”

“I know, but Brenda had never seen it. She hasn’t had a television in ages. Now that we have cable at Cloud Nine, I’m helping her catch up on popular culture.” He cocked his head. “You look a little tired yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he shot back, waving the printed email. “I have news.” He slid the paper across his father’s desk. “Turns out Ginny Whittle has diabetes insipidus. It’s not all in her head.”

Dad picked up the email and read, his eyebrows arching. “So you sent her to an endocrinologist despite my views on the matter?”

Dylan looked down, unable to meet his father’s eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of sending Ginny off to the specialist, but he was uneasy about Dad’s reaction. Dad had been a little bit unreliable the last few months.

“I’m not angry,” Dad said into his silence.

Dylan looked up. “I know. And I’m not trying to win a point. I just thought you should know.”

“I didn’t think you were here to crow, son. Thanks for letting me know. The good news is that Ginny’s condition is treatable. She should have a great quality of life. I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m worried about you.” There, he’d said the words out loud.

Dad’s lips twitched. “Because we argued about this?”

“Among other things. We’ve disagreed about a lot of stuff recently. Not just Mrs. Whittle, but Mrs. Martel as well.”

“Well, I hope we argue about cases more frequently. I’m not perfect, and one of the best things about having you back home is that you’re going to make me a better doc.”

That stunned him. How many mistakes had Dad made over the years?

“Don’t look so shocked,” Dad said. “We’re