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

than that, they spent many an evening chilling with Netflix over at his place. He’d gotten used to getting up with the chickens in order to have her back to Howland House in time for the morning breakfast service. This had, of course, required her to leave a few things at his place. Suddenly his shower had collected a bottle of girlie shampoo, and his sink had an extra toothbrush.

He welcomed these things. Somehow she filled up the empty places Dad had left when he’d moved out. He was even starting to think about painting the master bedroom and maybe buying some new furniture for that room. He didn’t think he’d like the idea of entertaining Ella on the bed his parents had once shared.

In fact, if he could find a few minutes of spare time, he might invite her out for a shopping trip to the mainland. Or maybe they could just cuddle on the couch and peruse the options on Wayfair.com.

But he never quite found the courage to suggest either of those things because he was afraid that if he said it out loud, she’d turn away and stride right out the door. Ella didn’t seem to know what she wanted in life. And far be it from him to pressure her into settling for something.

Besides, he didn’t want to be the guy she settled for. So instead, he was eyes wide open, sure that he was the rebound guy. And in fairness, maybe she was the rebound girl. The one who was so obviously different from Lauren that she would help him excise the unhappy memories.

The day of the party dawned like every other day, with him up early to drop Ella off and then off to shower and shave and show up at work. It might be Dad’s engagement party, but someone had to see patients, because Dad was taking a personal day.

At least it looked as if the weather was going to cooperate. The forecast was for a high in the low eighties with relatively low humidity. Perfect, in fact.

Which was a good thing because everything else about the day turned sour the moment he stopped at the dry cleaners to pick up his gray suit only to discover that they’d put a hole in the jacket. Unfortunately, that was his only tropical-weight suit. So he’d have to wear his blue blazer and khakis to the party. Which seemed wrong. He wore the blue blazer and khakis most days. He ought to dress up for his father’s party, right?

And then his workday unraveled fifteen minutes after his second cup of coffee, when Milo Parker came in complaining of chest pains. A quick EKG suggested something serious—no surprise considering Milo’s out-of-control diabetes and the fact that he ate at Annie’s Kitchen at least two times a week.

But what could Dylan do? He had to call the ambulance service and dispatch Dad’s longtime patient to the hospital on the mainland. After that, he was so far behind he couldn’t catch up, especially when a second emergency arrived in the form of a tourist who’d cut her foot on something wading in the ocean. She needed sutures and a tetanus shot. And she put him almost an hour behind. In the end, he had to have Lessie, his office manager, call a couple of patients and reschedule them.

And even so, he missed lunch and was a good half hour late getting to the pier where Synchronicity Too was docked. He was sweating a little under his jacket by the time he’d sprinted down the pier and stepped onto the yacht’s gleaming deck. Dad was standing there checking his watch, which was bad. But on the good side, Dad was dressed in his own blue blazer and khakis.

“Hey,” he said, giving Dad a quick man-hug. “Sorry I’m late. I had intended to be here an hour ago to help with last-minute details, but Mr. Parker came in with angina. I sent him off to the mainland, and he was admitted to the hospital. They’re going to do a cardiac cath tomorrow morning. But after he showed up, it was a zoo.”

“I should have been down at the office,” Dad said.

“No, it’s fine. We had to reschedule some patients. But we’ll catch up tomorrow.”

“Look,” Dad said under his breath. “Brenda is a little stressed that you’re late.”

“But I got here before any guests arrived.” The last thing Dylan needed right now was Brenda getting on his case for nothing.

“I know. But she feels as if you left Ella to handle everything.”

“The caterers handled everything.”

“Just lie low, okay? You’re in the doghouse with her right at the moment. I would advise you to avoid her as much as possible.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“Yeah. Just don’t say anything to her. She’s in bridezilla mode.”

“That bad?”

Dad chuckled. “Well, not really that bad. But stressed, you know. She wants everything to be perfect.”

“There’s no such thing.” Dylan quoted his father.

“I know. I’ve even told her that a time or two. But forewarned is forearmed. And not to change the subject, but how are you doing on hiring that nurse practitioner?”

“I’m working on it. I’ve been interviewing all week. There are a lot of candidates to choose from. It’s not an easy decision.”

“Good. We might want to consider adding another doc.”

“Dad, are you okay?” His father looked tired. Not at all the look of a man who was about to marry the woman of his dreams. Was he sick? Was that what this was about? Was he pushing Dylan to take over because he needed to make sure the practice was in good shape?

A raft of worries assailed Dylan as he looked into his father’s eyes. There seemed to be more fine lines around them than there had been a few months ago.

“I’m fine,” Dad said. “I’m just tired of trying to manage the free clinic, the practice, and a full life is all. A nurse practitioner could handle a lot of the load at the