Sea Glass Castle (The Carolina Coast Series Book 3) Page 3

  Wes pointed to the bowels. “Do you see the thick white areas here?”

  The woman slid the giant sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and peered at the film. She gasped and sent the shades back up. “Yes! See? I told you!”

  “Ma’am, that white area is fecal matter. Your son is constipated.” Wes tried to say it low enough just for the mother to hear, but from the snickers coming from the waiting area, he’d failed.

  “What?” Her face turned bright red, indicating she had heard him right.

  “Collin needs to poop.” He handed over a list of recommended enema brands and several pamphlets on proper nutrition. “Might I suggest you work on a healthier diet for this little guy? Lots of water, high fiber, and stay away from processed foods. That will help to prevent this from happening again.”

  “But . . .” She seemed to snap out of her embarrassment and head right back into indignation. “Are you calling me a bad mother?”

  “Ma’am, you need to lower your voice. I won’t allow you to make a scene.”

  “So I’m supposed to stand here while you tell me I’m a bad mother?” She jabbed a finger toward him, halting just before stabbing him in the chest. “You have another think coming, sir.”

  Wes couldn’t suppress the sigh any longer. “What is a typical meal for Collin?” When she didn’t answer right away, he plowed on. “Tell me what he had at mealtimes yesterday.”

  “A donut, a Happy Meal, and . . . another Happy Meal.” Sophia cast her face to the ground. Good, he’d hoped she’d humble herself.

  “So no fruits and vegetables. Just plain garbage.” Maybe he should have kept the last part to himself, but the woman had worn down his patience until there was hardly any left. Besides, she was the one to blame for her son’s condition in the first place.

  “He’s been through a lot lately. . . . I just . . .” She sniffed, but it didn’t soften Wes, not one bit.

  “That’s no excuse. And to be honest, it’s irresponsible to teach your child that when life gets difficult, it’s okay to neglect his health in this manner.” He began to walk away, knowing he’d already said more than enough, but the urge to throw one last jab over his shoulder won out. “It would probably be a great time to try out potty training, because it will be more than a diaperful once the medicine is administered.” He held the X-ray slide up to drive home his point.

  The child was almost three and the mother had admitted during the exam she wasn’t even trying to potty train him yet. Wes shook his head and tried to tamp down his building anger. It was imperative for him to keep his personal feelings out of the office, but he was already failing in just the first week.

  “How dare you talk to me like that! You can consider this the last time you see my son! We won’t be back!”

  Good riddance, he thought but remained silent and slipped into his office to get away from the ruined day. All because some self-righteous priss thought she could storm into his office like she owned the place.

  And all because he would have given anything to have a son to feed properly and to potty train. And to love.

  3

  Several strings of Edison-style lights swayed in the ocean breeze overhead at dusk as the gathering swelled in numbers on Opal and Lincoln Cole’s back deck. Sophia listened to the lighthearted chatter that was sprinkled with sweet laughter. Standing on the fringes of such joy, she felt utterly alone.

  “There you are!” Opal sashayed over, looking like a fifties pinup with her hair rolled and a saucy dress.

  “Wow, Opal. That dress is so cute,” Sophia commented as she smoothed her palm down the side of her floral maxi dress, feeling anything but.

  Opal danced a little circle, sending the hem of her navy swing dress dotted with bright-red cherries flaring out. “Thanks. Linc says I’m totally rockabilly tonight.” She handed Sophia a glass of summer punch. The very same recipe they’d sipped at most every summer party since she could remember. Pineapple juice mixed with pink lemonade concentrate—frozen, then mixed with ginger ale and served slushy style.

  “Honey, your husband walks around in threadbare tees, holey jeans, and barefoot most of the time. How does he even know anything about rockabilly fashion?” Sophia took a sip of the sweet and tangy slushy.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Lincoln said, all brooding smugness, as he joined them. He reached over and tugged the end of Sophia’s hair. “Glad to see you found a brush.”

  Sophia barely contained an eye roll. “Glad you did the same and have that mess out of your eyes for a change.” No man should have such pretty hair, especially a giant Neanderthal such as Lincoln Cole, Sophia thought.

  “Don’t be jealous,” Lincoln teased as if he could read her thoughts and made a show of smoothing back his dark hair. It was shoulder-length and hung in glossy waves.

  “Don’t be a dork.” She went ahead and rolled her eyes. For some reason, Lincoln had taken it upon himself to become her surrogate big brother. Teasing her every chance he got on one hand, yet fiercely protective of her on the other. She still couldn’t get over him getting into a pretty heated shoving match with Ty when she showed up covered in bruises that last time. Lincoln liked to aggravate her to no end but wouldn’t allow anyone else to do so. No matter how annoying he was, she sure did like having him in her corner. He was definitely a good one, and she couldn’t thank the good Lord enough for sending him to Opal. Those two together were an invincible team.

  “She even managed wearing something besides funeral attire.” This smart remark came from the other man who loved to get under her skin.

  Sophia spun around and glared at August, who was grinning ear to ear as he swiped her half-empty glass of punch and finished it off. “Hey!” She reached over and pinched him good and hard.

  August flinched out of her reach. “Dang it, Sophia! What have we told you about keeping your claws to yourself?” August tsked and had the audacity to hand her the empty cup.

  She was about to go another round or two with the town’s famed artist, but someone walked by and caught not only her attention but that of the others standing around her.

  “Wes! You made it!” Opal shouted over the music and chatter to get his attention.

  Dr. Weston Sawyer was one smartly dressed man in a light-blue dress shirt and perfectly pressed khakis, and Sophia couldn’t help but stare as he sauntered over in a confident stride to join the group. Polished and poised, he tipped his head to each lady while holding a careful smile on his face, catching on Sophia for a punctuated moment. Apparently he didn’t recognize her or care to look any longer, so he moved his attention back to Opal.

  “Thank you for inviting me. Sorry I didn’t have time Monday morning to get acquainted, but the cookies were delicious.”

  Two things struck Sophia at once. First, the man spoke in such a smooth tone she wanted to snuggle up beside it. And second, she was disgusted with herself for even thinking it. Clearly the loneliness of her newfound single life was to blame. But then a third thing struck after actually taking in the words he said. She narrowed her eyes at Opal, but her friend was dutifully ignoring her.

  “You had to unpack. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you enjoyed the cookies.” Opal smiled, full of warmth.

  “Where did you swipe the cookies, Opal? Surely they were stolen goods if they were edible,” August commented as he draped an arm over Josie’s shoulder as she joined the group.

  Sophia smiled at Josie but couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering back to the man who accused her of being a bad mother. Her lips sloped into a frown at that thought as she studied him, hoping to find a flaw to revel in. His hair was a mix of blond and brown, as if the locks couldn’t make their minds up on what color to be. A striking set of hazel eyes seemed to be in the same indecisive predicament. Of course his youthful face held no stubble and each of those wavy locks of caramel hair were perfectly placed. Not even a bump on the bridge of his straight nose or any sign of crow’s-feet around his eyes. Nope,
not one physical flaw could be found. She’d just have to stick with knowing his attitude held enough flaws to trump his handsomeness.

  Wes glanced at her again, no recognition evident, before sliding his attention to August. He reached out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Wes shook August’s hand and Josie’s hand next. “The two of you did a great job on the exam room murals. The children really like them.”

  Josie blushed as predicted and August kissed her pink cheek as always. Truly, they were one of those adorable couples that sent some in awe while painting others green with envy. Sophia understood this because she’d been on both sides of those feelings.

  She noticed Opal slipping away and followed. “I should pinch you too.”

  “Why on earth would you want to do that?” Opal asked while waving at a few guests.

  “You knew who Weston Sawyer was the entire time we sat on this deck playing your silly ‘I Spy the Vampire’ game.”

  Opal swatted the accusation away and moved over to the refreshment table set up on the farther side of the deck. “That was us just having some fun. No sense in getting your panties in a twist over it.”

  “No, that’s you thinking you’re so slick, Mrs. Meddler.”

  Opal refilled Sophia’s glass with punch, then hers, before taking a sip. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

  “You were hoping Wes would come over while I was here the other day. Why?”

  Opal looked around, maybe searching for an answer that would save her hide. “Well, I ran into Agnes Nelson at Growler’s, and the poor thing is in such a pickle.”

  “Ugh. Please, Opal. I don’t have the patience for your loopy talk. Just say it straight.” Sophia’s eyes darted to the pretentious man where he stood with August and Lincoln. Impeccably groomed, he appeared too graceful and proper to be hanging out with those two scruffy country boys. She moved her gaze to the two ruggedly handsome men—one with long hair and a thick beard, the other tattooed and wearing a five-o’clock shadow like a boss—thinking how Weston Sawyer couldn’t be more opposite of them.

  I wonder what all that neat put-togetherness is hiding.

  “My, you’re snippy today,” Opal sassed, snapping Sophia out of her staring, while cajoling her elbow to guide the glass of punch to her lips. “You need a few more servings of this sugar.” When Sophia had taken a long slurp of the punch, she continued. “Agnes wants to retire with Doc so they can spend some quality time together, but she can’t do that until she finds a replacement. Poor thing.”

  “Yeah. Poor thing . . . ,” Sophia parroted, not caring for the path the conversation was headed. She was about to walk away from it, but Opal locked their arms together before she could manage a step.

  “I think the office manager position would be a good fit for you.”

  Sophia scoffed. “Hardly. That would fit about as good as a pair of shoes two sizes too small. Agonizing and awkward.”

  “Come on, Sophia. I think it’s just what you need.”

  “No.” Sophia scanned the group of guests, but her gaze halted on August, who was pointing at her while both Weston and Lincoln looked her way. “What is that idiot doing?” she asked just as Weston gave her a cursory sweep. His head tipped to the side as recognition flashed in his hazel eyes.

  Before she could untangle her arm from Opal’s grasp, Weston was standing before her. The sweet punch turned sour on her tongue from the shrewd look he was giving her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you without the giant sun hat and shades, Mrs. Prescott.” Wes slid his hands into his pant pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

  “It’s Ms. Prescott, if you must know, but Sophia is just fine.” She set the glass down, having had her fill of it as well as the party. She caught a glimpse of Opal scurrying away but decided to deal with her later.

  “I hope you’ve been giving your son some fruits and vegetables. How is he?”

  Accusation followed by concern. It made Sophia want to smack him instead of answering, but she somehow pulled out her manners and wore them with the grace her mother had instilled in her. “Much better. Thank you for asking.”

  “Regular bowel movements? Any more stomach pain?”

  “He’s fine.” She kept to a short answer, not wanting to get riled up, and waved an arm around. “It’s a party. You shouldn’t be in doctor mode.”

  Wes sniffed and glanced over her shoulder. “It’s the only mode I can function in properly.” He lowered his chin and walked away.

  “Well, that conversation was enthralling.” Sophia rolled her eyes and decided she’d had enough socializing for one day. She glanced around and found her meddling group of friends watching on. Jabbing a finger in their direction along with a measured scowl, Sophia let them know she’d deal with them later, before stomping off the deck.

  As the jovial melody of the party droned on behind her, Sophia walked around to the front of the beach house. A long sigh caught her attention from next door, where Weston Sawyer sat on the porch steps studying his hands.

  “I’m not a bad mother, Dr. Sawyer,” Sophia blurted.

  “I thought you didn’t want doctor mode.” He sighed again. “Just call me Wes.”

  Sophia could think of a few other things to call him but decided to keep them to herself. She drew closer to his porch, not wanting anyone else to catch their exchange. “You embarrassed me in your office. I don’t take too kindly to that.”

  “And I didn’t appreciate you disrespecting me in my office in front of other patients.” Wes kept his face cast toward the sandy steps before him, but his hazel eyes rose to look at her. “Let’s be clear on the fact that your negligent behavior was the cause of your son’s issue in the first place.” Apparently he couldn’t resist adding the snide remark, but his voice was just above a whisper. It made Sophia wonder if he knew how to raise his pompous voice any higher, or was he too dignified for such?

  “Do you have children, Dr. Sawyer?” As soon as she asked, a subtle flinch tightened his shoulders. If she wasn’t paying attention, she would have missed it.

  “No.”

  “Then you have no right to judge those of us who do, trying to raise our children the best we know how. Your job is to diagnose and treat patients. You’d be mindful to remember that in this town.”

  Sophia was finished speaking her piece, so she left the doctor and headed home to hopefully hide in the dark for a while before having to pick up Collin from her parents. Sure, she was well aware that she was failing her son, but she didn’t need some snob such as Dr. Weston Sawyer to point it out.

  •••

  No matter how difficult life could become, a trip to Driftwood Diner always made things more bearable. Well, that was typically the case, but this morning a fiery sprite was working on ruining it. Sophia offered Collin a bite of her biscuit as she listened to Opal lay into her.

  “You had no business telling that new momma to go to the next town’s pediatric office. There’s nothing wrong with the office here in Sunset Cove and you know it.” Opal huffed while settling into the seat opposite Sophia.

  It had been several days since the deck party, and during that time, Sophia had refused all calls and visits from the Sand Queens and their pesky husbands. She wouldn’t be strong-armed into any job—or any other decision, for that matter.

  “Why are you creeping on my Facebook page?” Sophia glared at her friend while taking a sip of coffee.

  “It’s the only way I know what’s going on with you, since you won’t answer your phone or door. You changed the locks at the condo, didn’t you?” It was Opal’s turn to glare.

  “There’s no reason for you to have a key to my place anyway. And that momma was asking for pediatric office recommendations, so I simply offered one.” Sophia lifted a bored shoulder and wiped syrup off Collin’s cheeks.

  “Ofal, wan’ fome?” Collin mushed a chunk of pancake onto his fork, using both hands to secure it there, and lifted it toward her. Opal, good sport that
she was, happily took the bite.

  “Yum!” she garbled out, making a silly face in the process that sent the little guy into a fit of giggles. She looked back to Sophia and grew serious. “I heard you speaking to Wes on his porch.”

  Sophia briefly closed her eyes. “Of course you did. Nosy much?”

  “You don’t know enough about him to speak the way you did.” Opal took a sip of water. “He’s a widower.”

  “That doesn’t give him the right to be all snide about my parenting practices.” Even though she tried to come off as reproachful, her stomach tightened uncomfortably. He looked too young to have such a title as widower attached to him. She tucked her thumb along the back of her ring finger before she could stop herself.

  “Maybe, but then you go asking him if he has a child.” Opal tsked, sounding rather miffed.

  “So?”

  Opal leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Wes not only lost his wife, but he also lost an unborn child. She was eight months pregnant when she died in a car wreck.”

  Sophia gasped but then settled back down. “How do you know so much about him?”

  “I spent a good bit of time with Doc Nelson during the remodel of the doctor’s office. He’s known Wes for years.” Opal reached down and picked up the sippy cup Collin had accidentally sent to the floor. She righted herself and placed the cup on his high chair. “Doc said it happened almost four years ago. Wes walked away from his practice in Alabama and pretty much became a hermit. . . . Sounds like someone else I know.” Opal raised an eyebrow and leveled a meaningful look at Sophia.

  Sophia combed her fingers through Collin’s brown curls, having no clue how she’d be able to breathe if she ever lost him. Sure, the demise of her marriage and career was tragic, but she couldn’t imagine living through a loss such as Dr. Sawyer’s. Shame sent a lump to lodge in her throat over how she’d spoken to him.