Author: Lynda M.
Author's note: See my profile for a special Good Witch fan group announcement on Facebook!
Summary/Timeframe: Season 2/3, after the Festival of Lights and during the time Dr. Radford and Ms. Nightingale are realizing a few things. Where was Sam? Why is Cassie so drawn to him?
Realization
Doctor Sam Radford sat down on the staff cot slowly, noticing that, as always, the height of the frame seemed to be geared toward 5-year-olds, and not adults. After losing a patient during emergency surgery, he did not know if he COULD sleep, and also knew he NEEDED to lie down. The loss shook him. The doctor felt defeated, and did not expect to sleep but his body gave in quickly to the offer of rest.
Sam woke suddenly and consulted his watch. Forty-five minutes of rest, and he was as awake and clear headed as if he had slept for eight straight hours. He had not dreamed and his patient's death was still a fresh memory.
"I need to get out of here," he told himself. Pulling out his phone, which was silenced hours ago, he turned it off. He needed to process what had happened. Time to drive. He would grab a coffee on the way out as a keep awake assist.
Finding a place midway between home and the hospital, Sam turned off the Jeep in the empty parking lot and sat, thinking. He was the expert, the surgeon, the hero of the emergency room. Sam had always won or achieved at whatever he set his mind upon. This patient was to have been no different.
Something went wrong, and then something else. Sam thought he had the patient stable and there was another complication. The memory of the surgery played back in the doctor's mind; every move in slow motion. Finally, it was too late, and the patient was just. . . . gone. Sam started from the beginning playing it out in his head again. And again. Frustratingly, he could not pinpoint exactly where he went wrong, only that the turn for the worse was a sudden one. He could not bear to go home.
His practice in Middleton was nothing like the adrenaline rush of the hospital emergency room. Sam was, deliberately, in family medicine since leaving New York. Sniffles, arthritis, laryngitis and diagnostics were his day-to-day dealings. Until tonight, he had enjoyed the fast paced challenge of returning to the ER. He had missed that rush. Until tonight. There was nothing to miss about losing a patient.
Right before starting the Jeep to go home, Sam remembered that he had turned off his mobile phone. Not something he usually did, because his son Nick might need something. Nick had friends, more than a year after moving in next door to Grey House. The boy was clever, and he understood what his father did for a living, so he could take care of himself for a few hours. If there was a problem, Nick knew who he should call.
Sam was supposed to meet Cassie at the festival the night before, but he never did. Before looking at the phone for confirmation, he knew that she had called, and left at least one voice message. It was her way of being his friend – although to think about it, they were something more than friends by now.
Having listened to all five of Cassie's messages, and also reviewing the one text message from Nick, Sam started the Jeep. Nick and Cassie were both worried. His son had school in the morning. Better let him sleep. Sam felt it was too late, make that early - barely sun up - to call Cassie back. Besides, she would probably be . . .
Waiting for him when he arrived home, and there she was. He could see her ahead, giving a little wave and then folding her arms across her chest in the cold morning air. She never took her eyes off him as he parked.
He was going to have to pay the piper, now. Only, with Cassie Nightingale, it never felt like you were. Today, even if it felt like he was paying for standing her up last night, it would be worth it. This was the reason he did not mind, nay, he HOPED she would be waiting for him. Even though his mood was not good, at all; even though he had not returned her calls or apologized to her. He was hurting from his failure, but seeing her reminded him that not all was lost.
** GW **
"Yep, that went about how I thought it would," Sam told his empty bedroom. Nick had left for school a while before, and Sam was glad he could try to get real rest, in the comfort of his own home. He finished dressing in casual clothes, suitable for a nap and climbed into bed.
He considered his most recent conversation with his next-door neighbor. The softness in her voice when she said his name and the calm confirmation that she was certain he had done his utmost – those things made him want to be honest with her, and he was. He told her he was ripped up from the inside out, and before he knew it, she was giving him condolences. She made him feel better, at least a little, and she didn't have to. He knew she meant every word. Cassie always did.
He failed to consider how persistent Cassie could be when she wanted to spend time with him. She had the words, the tea, and even, the offer of silence. He was tempted, very tempted. Still, Sam kept his decision firm. He had the night shift tonight, and rest was required for him to be alert later. Not tea. The firm answer to her offer was no. He didn't like how he had expressed his desire to be alone, but there it was again. He, Sam, was only human, and not perfect.
Also, he was falling in love with her. He knew that as certain as he knew his heart kept beating and the sun was shining. Who wouldn't love Cassie Nightingale? Her spirit was as beautiful as her body.
It's too soon for that, he told himself, you can love her, but you can't fall hopelessly, romantically in love. No way. Get a little distance. Throw yourself into your work. That's the answer right now. The only answer. Be her friend. Give her time and space, too. You're both raising teenagers on your own. Don't rush.
On the other hand, you know Cassie. She's going to keep surprising you. That's her way. Her Cassie-ness. If it's meant to be, she'll get into your heart; and you'll get into hers.
He still had to convince himself to sleep for a while. Five or six hours would be do the trick. Then up and at 'em, he told himself.
Lying on his bed in the morning sun, Sam closed his eyes, to at least think. He was a good doctor. Top of his class, as he liked to brag. He would get back up on the horse, and put in more time at the hospital – volunteer for time he didn't have to put in. He'd prove to himself he was still at the top by seeing more patients, and saving every one. No one else would die on Sam's watch. He would see less of Cassie, although he was sure he would see her some. This would solve two issues at once. He'd be a great doctor again, and his and Cassie's relationship, as it were, would slow down.
Sam fell asleep. He didn't know it, but he was smiling.
** GW **
Cassie woke from a doze in the chair before the fireplace. The fire was long gone, although light orange embers still burned. She looked at the face of the grandfather clock across the room. Three in the morning. No Sam, yet. She didn't have a feeling for him at the moment. In fact, all she felt was the usual calm of the house.
She considered making a cup of tea, but decided against it, instead relocating to the loveseat. The embers did not need tending in the fireplace. She leaned over on her right side and stared at the orange glow, wondering what kept Sam, and hoping he was all right.
Since the single father had moved in next door, he had been an unexpected surprise and a nice change of pace from her previous daily routines. His frequent visits to borrow food or sit and enjoy company had turned from neighborly to friendly to more than friends. How much more? Was she ready? Cassie did not have the answers, and that was all right. Keeping their friendship as simply that made it easy for her to welcome and encourage without reading more into her handsome neighbor.
Sam had seemed eager earlier in the week to see her at the light festival. In fact, they were in the midst of seriously considering becoming a couple. Had Sam changed his mind on that? The fact that he had no showed to the festival and had not contacted her was troublesome. Also, it did nothing to mitigate the odd feeling she had yesterday, when she asked him to be careful.
Without noticing, Cassie drifted to sleep again.
** GW **
Cassie awoke to the feeling that Sam was nearby. The glow in the fireplace was completely gone, and the clock read seven a.m. The sun was rising, beginning to lift the misty remainders of the evening before. It would not take her fifteen minutes to freshen up, change clothes, and be ready to greet him when he stepped out of the Jeep.
** GW **
After Grace left for school, Cassie sat outside alone with a cup of tea, pondering the day ahead. She was not really expecting guests, but she had that old feeling. And there was Sam. She had tried with him, and now she understood, a little, what he was going through.
"Ah, Sam," Cassie said aloud to whatever fauna and flora might listen in, "You're a tricky one."
When she saw him a little while ago, he looked terrible – exhausted and pale. She could not hide her annoyance with him until he explained the situation last night. Not that someone dying made her feel any better, that was a tragedy, of course.
She was earnestly sorry for what he had been through. Cassie believed such transparency with him led him to tell her more than he planned on saying about it. She yearned to help him past the pain, but he flatly denied her help.
Cassie saw why Sam was upset, but for himself, well, he would have to come to certain realizations. One such was that even a top notch surgeon could not control life. Nor could he control death. No matter how much it was his desire.
Sam had withdrawn from her a few minutes ago. At least he had talked. Cassie was well aware that if she had not been standing in the drive when her neighbor pulled in and parked, that he would have gone inside the house without a word. He owed her an explanation, and had given it to her. He was hurting, and he needed to cope with the guilt and pain in his way.
Cassie recognized that Sam was dealing with something only he could deal with. That was why she offered him both tea and silence. He didn't want to do it her way, and she accepted that. One trait that attracted her to him was that he was not easily swayed to others' opinions and ideas, and he stuck up for his own. At the same time, he respected that she did things her way, too, and he was not out to make her change.
Her mind circled once more to her early morning questions. How much more than friends had her relationship with Sam become? The kisses were nice, and a part of her longed for more. Another part of her wanted to keep things the way they were at the moment, in stone. Although that was impossible, because the passage of time meant something was going to change, most likely.
The other question came into play. Was she ready for her relationship to change? When Sam first moved next door, Cassie was only friends with Ryan Elliot. Things were drastically fast tracked by the realtor's desperation to show up his ex-fiancée, and Cassie's desire to help her friend stand up to someone who was an absolute jealous control monger. Kissing Ryan had never generated a romantic spark, and both she and Ryan knew that it had been for show. Nothing like what she'd had with Jake. A few weeks passed, and Ryan was pushing her to date him. Oddly, the very same day she told Ryan she was not ready to move on, her heart had changed in Sam's favor . . . which was unfortunately illustrated to Ryan that night. The realtor did not walk in, although the shop door was unlocked. He walked away, downtrodden and friend zoned.
There was John Dover, too. Surprisingly, he had been easier to say no to romantically than Ryan. Cassie was overjoyed when she found out John had a long distance girlfriend, but that broke up overnight. Still, John was handsome, and in a way she could see herself with him, traveling the world from dig to dig. The timing was off, she decided. Grace was years from adulthood, and Cassie did not want to leave her behind, or tear her daughter from everything and everyone she knew.
The fact remained that change was inevitable. Cassie felt ready with Sam. The attraction was there; had been there since the Heritage Ball, really. Well before their near-miss kiss at Bell Book. In the same spot where Jake had first kissed her. Sam was courteous – he hated interrupting her when she was due to spend time with Ryan, and he'd encouraged her to fly off to the Maldives. He couldn't have known that Middleton had a strong grip on her, along with her family. Sam always encouraged, but never pushed.
When Sam planted a kiss on her lips at the lake house, the electric charge between them was something rare. She hadn't told Sam, but there was a slight whisper in the air when their lips parted that originated from neither of them. Cassie knew it was Jake, giving her his blessing to move on. Shortly after the kiss, Sam and she had driven back to Middleton. Not silently, but both of them actively avoiding discussion of the kiss. They both knew they could have gone a lot further than that kiss, alone by the lake, but there was an unspoken, mutual agreement to put on the brakes. For the moment. And now. . .
The ball, was squarely in Sam's court. Until she could spend more time with him, she would not know what his exact desires and intentions were. She thought she had a pretty good idea, and it was backed up by her Merrywick intuition, but that intuition did not have the final say.
"Best not to rush," Cassie said out loud, and then sipped her tea. It was almost gone. Best not to rush when, for the moment, her relationship with Sam was fine. He needed more time to get through losing his patient. Her relationship with her daughter was fine as well. Since losing Jake, Cassie had cherished her time with Grace, watching her blossom into an intelligent, caring young woman.
"Best not to rush." Cassie said again, finishing the tea and smiling. She stood and breathed deeply of the morning air. You never know, Dr. Sam Radford may surprise you yet.
