And in the family room, in front of the fireplace, Paul sat in a large leather chair with Vanessa on his lap. She ran her fingers around his ear and put little kisses on his temple. They could hear the general and Muriel laughing in the kitchen, the sound of Tom’s little truck firing up in the driveway as he took his girlfriend away. “How’s the countdown on the house?” she whispered.
“I’m working as fast as I can. I can’t wait until we have our own place.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “As soon as I get a little caught up on the building, let’s sneak up to Grants Pass and not tell anyone we’re there.”
She giggled. “Paul, all we have to do is park the baby with your mother. No one will bother us if she has her hands full of little Matt. We can do whatever we want.”
He growled and nuzzled her neck. “Is there any question in your mind about what I want?”
She sighed, snuggling closer.
Outside the great room on the deck, hearing the laughter in the kitchen, the engine of the little truck, the smooching in front of the fire, Shelby looked up at the cool, early-fall sky. She tried to imagine her mother’s face amidst the stars, the way she looked before she got sick—so energetic, so pretty and full of good humor and sass. As she so often did, she transported her thoughts to her mom.
I wish you could have been at the table with us tonight; it was so fun. Everyone was laughing, poking fun, telling jokes, gossiping. They were all so loud. And seeing Walt with a woman—it’s so different than the way he was with Aunt Peg. More playful. He’s happy, Mom, having fun like I never thought he could. And Muriel, for a famous person, she’s so silly, so funny. And you should see Vanni and Paul together. There were times I worried so much about Vanni, after losing first her mom and then her young husband—I was afraid she’d never be truly happy again. Paul is such a blessing to her, to the whole family. And I know that Tom and Brenda think only about how difficult it’s going to be for them to be apart, but just the way they look at each other… Ahhhh, it reminds me a little of all those chick flicks we watched together. Man oh man, there’s so much love in the air around here. Really, I didn’t think this little town could hold so much life, so much romance. I’m so lucky to have this place, to be here with my family…
Sometimes, even with all these people around, I still miss you so much…
Sometimes I’m still so lonely…
Do you think my turn will ever come? I wonder that all the time.
Mel Sheridan had worked with Doc Mullins for over two years and in that time had married Jack and produced two children. The job hadn’t been easy, Doc being a cantankerous sort, but they had developed a close working relationship and a very special friendship. They didn’t agree on all that much, but they understood each other quite well. She was all about following the legal statutes to the letter while he was more concerned with being sure his people, his town, got by as well as they could, regardless of little things like laws. Getting down to it—Doc Mullins would risk anything to see his job was done, and done well.
Mel came to realize he’d probably delivered most of the town; at least everyone under forty. He’d been so much more than just a doctor here. He was the backbone of this town; their confessor, friend and healer. He didn’t have any other family. Virgin River was his family.
And Mel and Doc, while neither of them was the least sentimental, had come to love each other. There was a grudging mutual respect—he maintained he didn’t need some uppity nurse to get the job done, while she chided that he was so stubborn and difficult he could make those asshole surgical residents she’d worked with in Los Angeles look like a bunch of candy asses. It was true love.
He didn’t see her as a daughter nor did she see him as a father figure, but he did regard her children as one might grandchildren. He never said as much, but the twinkle in his eyes when he picked one of them up was enough. And it filled her heart with pride and affection.
Mel was at the clinic first thing in the morning, leaning up against the kitchen sink sipping a cup of coffee, when he limped into the room. “Morning,” he growled.
“Morning, sunshine,” she said with a grin. “How’s the arthritis today?”
“Worst day of my goddamn life.” He reached into the cupboard over the sink and grabbed a bottle of anti-inflammatory capsules, shaking a couple out.
“Worse than yesterday, which was the worst day of your goddamn life?” she asked.