SWEET DREAMS, FRAGILE HEARTS
Chapter 26—Fireworks
Troy was still shaken by Maria's cancer confession as he drove into his neighborhood. His mood was sullen, and he barely paid attention to his surroundings as he approached the house. His breath caught as he saw Gabriella up on a ladder, washing windows on the side of the house. Their house was one-story, but the height of the windows and the landscaping below them made a ladder necessary. Troy skidded into the driveway and dashed out of the car.
"What are you doing?" he demanded from the base of the ladder.
She looked down at him, confused. "I'm washing the windows. I was cleaning the guest room and noticed how dirty they were. Why? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? Well, for starters, you're pregnant and shouldn't be up on a ladder," he argued. "Besides that, it's like 95 degrees out here, and you're working in direct sunlight. You could get heat exhaustion or sun poisoning or dehydration…"
Gabriella calmly dropped her cleaning rag into the bucket of soapy water she had hooked on the top of the ladder and started to climb down. Troy rushed forward to steady the ladder, and as she neared the ground, he placed a supportive hand on her back. When she was safe on the ground, she turned to regard Troy curiously.
She touched his face, noting the agitation there. "I'm okay, Troy," she said lightly. "You worry too much."
He captured her wrist and glared at her. "Well, somebody has to. What do you think you're doing, climbing a ladder when you're home alone? You could fall, and no one would be around to help you."
She frowned and reached into the pocket of her cutoffs to pull out her phone. "If I fell, all I would have to do is call for help. Are you okay? I don't understand why you're getting so upset about this."
Troy could feel himself losing control. His emotions were on overdrive, and it seemed like Gabriella was brushing off his concerns. "How am I supposed to go to Sacramento and do my job when I'm constantly worried that you're going to do something careless like this? That's my baby you're supposed to be taking care of."
Hurt flickered across her face even as her eyes flared with anger. "I am a grown woman, Troy Bolton! I don't need you hovering over me like an overprotective parent. And you don't need to worry—I'll take good care of your baby for you."
With that, she turned and stormed away from him. Troy heard the back door slam, and he sank to the ground and dropped his head into his hands. He knew he'd overreacted, but he couldn't bring himself to face her again until he calmed down. He looked at his hands and saw that they were shaking. He realized that he wasn't angry at Gabriella; he was truly worried about her. Worried about her health. Worried how she'd handle their looming separation. Worried how she'd react to the news of her mother's cancer. The last thought brought his anger back to the surface. How could Maria tell him something like that and expect him to keep it from his wife? Gabriella would be devastated when she found out. Troy's mind felt like it was about to explode like a firecracker. What if Maria didn't tell her daughter the news until after he'd left for Sacramento? He couldn't allow Gabriella to process such difficult news on her own. He shook his head, trying to clear it. When had life gotten so complicated?
Troy sat there, lost in thought, for several minutes. When he pushed to his feet, he climbed the ladder and finished the window Gabriella had been working on. Then he moved the ladder and cleaned the rest of the windows on that side of the house. As he worked, he mentally rehearsed his apology. By the time he climbed down and dumped the bucket of dirty water, he felt calmer. Rounding the back of the house, he opened the back door. Gabriella had apparently been working in the kitchen; his gaze took in the pot of boiling water on the stove, the vegetables lined up on the counter next to a kitchen knife… He frowned, circling the island for a closer look. Several pieces of a cucumber were scattered on the floor. Red spots dotted the counter among the diced cucumber, and Troy was horrified to see that the knife was streaked with blood.
"Gabriella!" he shouted, running through the house in a frantic search for her. He found her sitting on the floor in their bathroom with a bloody towel wrapped around her left hand.
"I c-cut my hand," she whispered. Her skin was ghostly white, and her face was stained with tears. "It w-won't stop b-bleeding."
Troy dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her hand into his lap. Carefully, he unwrapped the towel to survey the damage. A nearly two-inch laceration lay open from the base of her thumb to her wrist. It wasn't terribly deep, but it was bleeding badly. His medical training instantly took over and he worked quickly and quietly. He pulled a first aid kit from under the sink and ripped open a package of gauze. Gabriella gasped in pain when he applied firm pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. Her head lolled back against the wall behind her and her eyes fluttered shut.
"Hey, stay with me," he ordered sharply. "Gabriella!"
She opened her eyes to look at him, her fear evident, as he lifted her arm over her head to slow the bleeding. He noticed that her hair was damp, and guessed that she'd taken a quick shower before starting dinner.
Troy forced his voice to soften. "Listen to me. You're going to be okay. There are a lot of blood vessels in your hand—that's why it's bleeding so much. But it'll be all right."
"It hurts," she whimpered.
"I know, baby," he soothed. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"The knife slipped," she said softly. "I wasn't paying attention."
"Why didn't you come get me?" he asked.
Her head dropped. "I thought I could just put a bandage on it and it would be okay." Fresh tears moistened her eyelashes. "And I didn't want to make you mad because I was… c-careless," she stuttered.
Troy wished he could take her in his arms, or at least brush the tears from her cheeks, but he couldn't release the pressure on her wound. "Gabriella, look at me." He waited until she did so, and then gave her a sad smile. "I'm not mad at you. Accidents happen, sweetheart. And I'm sorry. I said things to you outside that I didn't mean, and I wish I could take them back. I had a stressful afternoon, but that's no excuse. I was a jerk, and I'm really sorry."
She dropped her head again. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I was just trying to get things ready for your parents' visit. I didn't mean to be careless with the… your… baby."
He winced. "Our baby. I should never have said what I said. I need to start letting you trust your instincts. I just want to protect you. Both of you." He leaned in to kiss her gently. "I'm going to go get my medical bag. Can you hold your arm up like this until I get back?"
She nodded, and he was back in less than thirty seconds. When he returned, he lowered her arm to inspect the wound again.
"I think it's going to need a few stitches," he told her. "I'd better take you to the hospital."
"You do it," she replied softly.
"It's going to hurt," he warned.
"It'll hurt either way," she reasoned. "Just do it, Troy. I trust you."
Gabriella held the gauze on her hand while Troy laid out his supplies and pulled a clean towel from the linen closet. He washed his hands carefully, and then pulled on a pair of gloves. When he dropped to his knees by her side once again, he laid the clean towel on her lap and picked up a bottle of peroxide.
"I need to clean out the wound so it doesn't get infected. This is going to sting pretty badly for a few seconds. Brace yourself."
She squeezed her eyes shut, and when the peroxide bubbled and fizzed into her skin, she let out an agonized cry and tried to jerk her hand away. Troy cringed, but held her firmly. Next he sprayed anesthetic numbing spray around the wound. Gabriella opened her eyes just in time to see the suture needle puncture her skin, and she dove forward to heave into the toilet. He waited, holding her hand and resisting the urge to pull her hair back with his sterile gloves.
"Don't look," he instructed when she resettled against the wall, panting. "It'll be over soon."
He quickly sewed a neat line of five stitches and tied off the suture, and then covered the closed wound with gauze and bandaged it quickly. After he'd disposed of the bloody supplies and snapped off his gloves, he finally did what he'd wanted to do since he'd found her on the bathroom floor—He pulled her into his lap and held her tight. She clung to him, and he stroked her hair tenderly.
"I'm sorry for hurting you," he whispered, and Gabriella knew he wasn't just talking about her hand.
"I know," she answered against his chest. "I love you, Troy."
"I love you too," he told her. "I'm going to go finish dinner, and I'd like for you to lie down and rest for a little while, all right?"
"Okay," she answered. She didn't know what had set Troy off when he'd first gotten home, but her Troy, the tender, gentle man she loved, was back, and for the moment, that was enough for her.
...~«ώ»~...
By the time Jack and Lucille flew in on Saturday afternoon, Gabriella's hand was healing nicely. She and Troy met his parents at the airport, and Lucille hugged them enthusiastically.
"What a beautiful bracelet," Lucille exclaimed, taking hold of her daughter-in-law's right hand. "Did my son get you that?"
"He did," Gabriella grinned. "It was his anniversary gift for me. Well, that and the trip to Hawaii."
Lucille laughed and ran her fingers over the small charms. "What do these words mean?"
Gabriella started to answer before she remembered the 'Mother' charm Troy had added after they'd learned about the pregnancy. She looked at Troy, wide-eyed, and he calmly covered for her.
"It's classified information, Mom," he teased, winking at his wife. "We could tell you, but then we'd have to kill you."
"What happened to your hand?" Jack asked, pointing to the row of stitches on Gabriella's left hand.
"I cut it with a kitchen knife," Gabriella told them. "Troy stitched it up for me. Being married to a surgeon has its benefits."
Lucille gently lifted Gabriella's hand and examined it. "Excellent work, son," she bragged. He grinned at the compliment.
They started walking toward the exit, and Jack wondered aloud about their plans for the rest of the day. "We could do some sightseeing, and then go to a nice restaurant for dinner," he suggested.
Troy squeezed Gabriella's hand. "I just got off work, so I'm ready for some relaxation. And Gabriella is cooking a special dinner tonight."
"Oh?" Lucille paused suspiciously. "What's the special occasion?"
"Your visit, of course," Gabriella answered smoothly. "It's been more than six months since you've been to San Francisco, so a little celebration is in order."
"Do you have your menu planned yet?" Lucille pressed. "We could stop by Fisherman's Wharf and buy some fresh fish. That's one of my favorite things about coming to San Francisco… besides seeing you two, of course!"
Gabriella had to fight the urge to gag. Seafood was one of a number of smells that her weak stomach couldn't tolerate. Even the memory of the strong smells at the wharf nearly did her in. Troy's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her into his side.
"Hang in there, sweetheart," he murmured softly enough that only she would hear. "Just a few more hours, and then it'll all be out in the open."
Gabriella nodded mutely, hoping with all her might that they could hold Lucille off that long. It was going to be a tricky afternoon.
...~«ώ»~...
Troy managed to convince Lucille not to go the fish market that evening, and Gabriella was able to cook and eat dinner without getting sick. The foursome talked and laughed around the Boltons' dining room table, even after their meals were finished and the dishes were cleared.
"Dad, I have a belated Father's Day present for you," Troy suddenly announced, pushing to his feet and squeezing Gabriella's shoulder as he passed her. He retrieved the wrapped package from the bedroom and laid it on the table in front of Jack before returning to his seat. Under the table he took Gabriella's hand and squeezed it, and she smiled happily at him before returning her attention to her father-in-law.
Jack looked at them, confused. "You already got me Giants tickets for Father's Day," he reminded Troy. He picked up the package and tested the weight. "Hmm," he pondered. "Too heavy to be a tie."
Troy rolled his eyes at the long-running joke. "Dad, I haven't gotten you a tie since I was five!"
"And what a nice tie it was." Jack winked at Gabriella. "He colored it himself."
She forced a small laugh. She'd heard the story many times through the years, and she was distracted by the contents of the package.
"For heaven's sake, Jack, just open it," Lucille told him.
Obediently he tore through the wrapping and carefully lifted the lid off the box. He pulled back the tissue paper and found himself staring into the face of his younger self. It was a framed photo from his senior year at East High, and he wore his basketball uniform, emblazoned with #21.
"How did you get this?" he asked.
"Mom sent it to me," Troy answered, nodding toward the box. "There's more."
Jack lifted out another frame and turned it over. The second photo was from Troy's senior year. His pose was nearly identical to the first photo, and like in Jack's photo, Troy held a basketball. He wore his East High uniform as well, though the style was more up-to-date, and his was #14. Jack held the two photos side by side and grinned.
"Quite a legacy, Son," he said proudly. He handed the frames to Lucille and dug back into the tissue paper to find a third frame. "This one's empty," he pointed out, frowning with confusion. He lifted it and found underneath it a small bundle wrapped in tissue and tied with a red ribbon. Lucille's eyes widened as she realized what the empty frame signified, and she bit her lip excitedly, waiting for Jack to figure it out. He unwrapped the bundle and pulled out a tiny East High basketball jersey. Lucille covered her mouth with her hands, about to burst. Jack's eyebrows furrowed as he turned it to read the back of the jersey. It said "Bolton" above a white #7.
"Number seven?" Jack asked. "Who's that?"
Lucille smacked his arm. "It's a good thing you don't teach math, Jack. You were number 21. Troy was number 14. And the next generation…" She looked over to Troy and Gabriella for confirmation, and they grinned in acknowledgment. "The next generation will be number 7."
Jack looked from Lucille to his son and daughter-in-law. "You mean… you're… I mean, you're going to… you're…"
"Pregnant," Troy finished for him, beaming across the table at them as his arm slid around Gabriella's shoulders. "We're expecting a baby, Dad. You and Mom are going to be grandparents."
Lucille shrieked and stood up to dash around the table. Troy stood into his mother's arms, and she hugged him gleefully. Gabriella stood as well, and Lucille pulled her into a tight embrace. When they separated, both women's eyes were wet with tears. Troy looked across the table at his father, who was grinning broadly as he traced the stitching on the tiny basketball uniform.
"A baby," Jack said to himself, his voice full of wonder. "Imagine that."
"Now, Dad, we don't know if it's a boy or a girl, so you may have to hang onto that jersey for awhile," Troy pointed out.
"Doesn't matter," Jack replied, his voice rough. "Either way, it's a dream come true." He looked up at Troy. "Congratulations, Son. You're going to make a terrific father."
Troy darted around the table when Jack stood, and they embraced firmly. "I don't know, Dad, you set the bar pretty high," Troy replied.
Lucille held Gabriella's hands and beamed. "How far along?" she asked.
"Six weeks," Gabriella answered, smiling across the table at Troy. "I'm due at the end of February."
"I'm so happy for you two!" Lucille squealed. "How are you feeling? Have you been sick?"
"Dreadfully," Troy answered for her. "She'll tell you it's no big deal, but she's had a pretty rough time."
Lucille looked back at Gabriella sympathetically. "Oh, honey, no wonder you look so thin. I was worried that there was something wrong with you."
"Nothing a few months won't take care of," Gabriella quipped.
"Okay, new plan," Lucille announced, draping her arm around her daughter-in-law's shoulders. "Tomorrow, while those two are at the Giants game, you and I are going to the spa for a day of pampering. My treat."
"Oh, but Lucille…" Gabriella started to protest.
"No arguments, dear," Lucille interrupted. "Lesson number one for expectant mothers: Sometimes you need to put yourself first and submit to some spoiling. Once the baby comes, you won't have much time for yourself, so you need to enjoy it now."
Gabriella looked at Troy imploringly, but he nodded in agreement with his mother. "I think it's a great idea, sweetheart. You deserve some primping and pampering."
"You certainly do," Lucille reiterated. She winked across the table at the men. "And if you refuse, I just might have to take you to the fish market after all."
Gabriella made a face and finally gave in. "Primping and pampering it is!"
...~«ώ»~...
Late that evening, Troy and his parents sat outside to enjoy the cool evening. Gabriella had run out of steam after all the excitement, and had reluctantly gone to bed.
"I still can't believe it," Lucille exclaimed. "My baby's having a baby!"
Troy rolled his eyes as Jack chuckled. "Mom, I haven't been your 'baby' for a long time."
"You'll always be my baby," she insisted. "And someday soon, you'll understand what I mean."
"Is it normal for Gabriella to be so tired and sick?" Jack asked fretfully, glancing toward the back door.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Troy answered. "It's hard to see her having such a hard time with it, but she never complains. I worry about her a lot, though." He dropped his head and stared into his half-consumed glass of lemonade. "I yelled at her the other day."
"What for?" Lucille asked calmly.
"I came home from work and she was up on a ladder, washing windows," Troy answered. "I… had a lot on my mind, and all I could think about was all the ways she could get hurt."
"She's been through a lot, Troy," Lucille replied. "You both have, and I'd say that has a lot to do with why you're so protective of her. And now that she's pregnant, you can't help but worry. I know you like taking care of her, but she is capable of taking care of herself."
"I hope so," Troy said. "It's going to be hard to be away from her when I go to Sacramento."
"It's an incredible opportunity for you, Son," Jack told him. "Gabriella knows that, and she seems to support your decision."
"I know," Troy replied. "I wouldn't have agreed to it if she hadn't. But I'm torn between excitement and anxiety. And I don't ever want her to think that I'm choosing my job over her."
"Like Maria," Lucille said knowingly. Troy looked up in surprise. "I asked about her mom while we were making dinner, and she told me that Maria doesn't have time for her anymore. She seemed pretty angry about it."
"Getting angry at her mom is easier than admitting how much it hurts when Maria puts her second," Troy commented. "She has no idea…" He trailed off and looked earnestly between his parents. "Mom, Dad, can I tell you something? I really need to talk about it, but Gabriella can't find out. Not yet." They nodded, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I called Maria the other day to try to convince her to come for a visit. Gabriella really wanted to tell her about the baby in person rather than over the phone. She broke down and told me that… that she has cancer."
"What?" Lucille exclaimed. Beside her, Jack gaped.
"It's papillary thyroid cancer," Troy explained. "She had her thyroid removed a couple months ago, and now she's having radiation treatments. It's a very treatable form of cancer—her prognosis is good."
"But she hasn't told Gabriella," Lucille deduced. "Why not?"
"She found out around the same time that Gabriella's fibroids were discovered," Troy told her. "She said she didn't want to add more stress by telling Gabriella about her diagnosis. And now she wants to wait until she has a clean bill of health before she tells her."
"But she told you?" Jack asked. "And asked you to keep it from your wife?"
"Yeah," Troy nodded. "I hate keeping secrets from Gabriella, but with the added stress of the pregnancy, I'm worried about how she'll react to the news."
"How do you think she'll react when she finds out you and Maria have been keeping this from her?" Lucille asked pointedly.
"I don't know, Mom," he argued. "It's not really my news to tell, though. Neither is the pregnancy."
"You need to get the two of them to talk," Lucille suggested. "Surely Gabriella can handle this more easily than thinking her mom doesn't care enough to see her."
"Are you sure about that?" Troy asked. "She's going to want to rush to New York to be with her mom, and she shouldn't be flying right now. Not to mention that the radiation Maria's receiving could harm the baby. To me, it seems cruel to tell her and not allow her to see for herself that her mom is okay."
Jack shook his head. "It's a tough spot to be in, that's for sure."
"I'm going to get some more lemonade," Lucille announced. "Do you want a refill?"
Both men handed over their glasses, and Lucille disappeared into the kitchen. Troy and Jack sat in silence for a few moments before Jack spoke.
"Your mom and I were thinking, since you told us that Gabriella's expecting, that maybe we should get a hotel room while we're here," Jack said.
Troy looked at him, surprised. "Why?"
"Well, Lucille's worried about adding to Gabriella's stress, having to entertain us," Jack replied. "Besides, you just got back from a romantic vacation together, and having your parents in the house tends to cramp your style, if you know what I mean." He winked at Troy. "It's not like you have a tree house to run off to in the middle of the night."
"W-what?" Troy choked.
"Your last visit to Albuquerque?" Jack reminded him. "The night of the reunion?"
"How…? Ew, Dad, you weren't spying on us, were you?" Troy made a face, and Jack chuckled.
"No way," Jack teased. "I prefer not to think of my son as a sexually active man. That's going to be a little harder to pull off now that your wife is pregnant." Troy's face scrunched further. "I got up early that Sunday morning and peeked in your bedroom to check on you, just like I did when you were a kid. You weren't there, and it doesn't take a genius to narrow down the list of other places you would've gone."
"Dad, don't tell Gabriella you know," Troy pleaded. "She'll be mortified."
"It'll be just between us, the Bolton men," Jack promised.
"Uh oh, what are the Bolton men up to now?" Lucille asked as she came through the back door and handed them fresh glasses of lemonade.
"We were just talking about how much we love the Bolton women," Jack charmed.
"Especially since my woman got me a Giants jersey for our anniversary," Troy added with a grin. "I'm totally wearing it to the game tomorrow. Dad will be green with envy!"
"Nah, I don't want to wear number 14," Jack teased. "I'd much rather sport the old number 21." He winked at Lucille. "Maybe you should keep that in mind for our next anniversary, dear."
Lucille rolled her eyes. "Please. If you get any more sports memorabilia, we'll have to buy a bigger house!"
Jack shrugged. "I don't see a problem with that. How about you, Son?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," Troy teased.
Lucille laughed. "Some things never change, do they?"
"Nope," Jack agreed. "Not a bit."
...~«ώ»~...
Troy took Tuesday off, and Lucille suggested that the foursome take a road trip to Sacramento to check out the campus where Troy would be working. She'd noticed Troy's anxiety about the job assignment, and she guessed that experiencing the drive and seeing the campus would help to put his mind at ease. Dr. Overman set up a meeting for them with the athletic director, who agreed to give them a tour.
Troy and Gabriella were pleased to find that the drive from San Francisco to Sacramento took a little less than two hours. The sprawling campus was dotted with stone buildings and palm trees, and the athletic facilities were spectacular. Jack and Troy gasped as they entered the fieldhouse where they were to meet the athletic director. The AD's office was as spacious as the building that housed it, and he rose from his massive desk when Troy knocked on the door.
"Hi," he greeted. "I'm Pete Massey." He rounded his desk and extended his hand. "You must be Dr. Bolton."
"Please, call me Troy," Troy replied as he shook the older man's hand. He turned and gestured behind him. "These are my parents, Jack and Lucille." Pete shook their hands as Troy's hand settled on Gabriella's waist. "And this is my wife, Gabriella."
The athletic director offered her a warm smile and a handshake. "It's nice to meet you. And I understand that congratulations are in order. Mike Overman tells me that you two have a bundle of joy on the way."
Gabriella blushed cutely while Troy beamed. "We do indeed. And we want to thank you for agreeing to the modified schedule so I can be home every week. I really appreciate it."
Pete nodded. "Mike convinced me that you're the man for the job, so I'm glad we could make it work." He gestured them out into the carpeted hallway and pulled his office door shut before turning to grin at them. "Are you ready for the grand tour?"
"Absolutely," Troy answered. "I can't wait to get a closer look at these incredible facilities."
They made easy conversation as they walked the cavernous halls of the fieldhouse.
"Are you a football guy, Troy?" Pete asked.
"Basketball," Troy answered. "UC Berkeley by way of East High in Albuquerque." He clapped his father on the shoulder proudly. "This guy coached us in back-to-back championships."
Pete grinned. "I'm a basketball guy myself. I coached some high school ball back in the day. Are you still coaching, Jack?"
"Twenty years now," Jack answered with a matching grin.
Pete turned to Lucille and winked. "And you're still married to him? You must be a saint!"
Lucille laughed. "Hardly. Troy is our only child, though, so during his teenage years our house positively reeked of basketball."
Pete laughed with the group as he unlocked a door and led them into the school's basketball arena. Troy and Jack stood in awe, turning in circles to take in the grandeur of the facility. Lucille and Gabriella couldn't help but laugh at their childlike wonder.
Next they went to the adjoining football stadium, where the men once again gaped at the impressive facilities. Pete led them through the training room filled with state-of-the-art equipment, the locker room, and down a wide hallway, where he paused in front of a door and slid in a key.
"This will be your office," he announced, stepping aside so Troy could enter first. In the center of the room was a large desk with a cushy chair that faced the door. Two more chairs sat in front of the desk, presumably for consultations with student athletes, and several file cabinets lined the wall behind the desk. To one side, there was a plush sofa and coffee table, and the opposite wall held a big-screen television with additional electronics on an entertainment unit below it. The floor was carpeted in scarlet red, and the walls were painted creamy beige.
"Ugh, Stanford colors," Troy muttered, pretending to be put off. Gabriella poked him in the side. To Pete, he explained, "My wife is a Stanford graduate."
"Ah, an in-house rivalry," Pete nodded. "You won't find any Berkeley blue around here. This is Bulldog country."
"This sure beats my office in the smelly boys' locker room," Jack commented wryly.
"Would you like to check out the football field?" Pete asked. "We just had the turf redone."
"Absolutely," Troy answered enthusiastically.
"Count me in," Jack added.
Gabriella caught Troy's arm as he passed. "Is it all right if I wait here?"
He looked down at her and tilted his head. "Sure. Are you okay?"
She smiled. "Just tired. And that couch is calling my name."
Troy kissed her forehead. "Stay here and try out my couch. We'll be back in a little while."
"I think I'll stay here with Gabriella," Lucille announced, and Troy nodded appreciatively.
The two women had barely settled onto the sofa when a large figure loomed in the doorway.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
Lucille and Gabriella were so shocked by his gruffness that it took them a few moments to respond.
"We're visiting the campus with my son, Troy," Lucille finally answered. "He'll be working here this fall as the football team's physician." She pushed to her feet and extended her hand. Beside her, Gabriella rose as well. "I'm Lucille Bolton, and this is my daughter-in-law, Gabriella. And you are…?"
The man ignored Lucille's question and outstretched hand as he stared openly at Gabriella. She smoothed her clothing nervously, uncomfortable under his gaze.
"You're the doctor's wife?" he asked, frowning when she nodded. "You don't look pregnant to me."
"I beg your pardon!" Gabriella retorted.
"Massey said the team doctor could only be here part-time," the man clarified. "Something about his pregnant wife staying in San Francisco."
"I am Troy's wife, and I am pregnant," Gabriella argued. "What business is that of yours?"
"I'm the head football coach," he answered smugly. "I make it my business to know what goes on around here." He eyed Gabriella up and down again, and she forced herself to hold his gaze. "How did you get in here?"
Lucille cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from Gabriella. "Pete Massey is showing us around campus. He took my son and husband out to see the football field, but we opted to stay behind." She pinned him with a glare. "I didn't catch your name."
"Jim Sterling," he answered distractedly, his attention back to Gabriella. "I wasn't thrilled with having such a young, inexperienced doctor working with my team, but if you're going to be around, I'll be all too happy to jump on board."
Gabriella stood her ground, even though her knees were shaking. "I'm sure Troy will appreciate your warm welcome, but I will not be around, except to visit my husband. As you already pointed out, I live and work in San Francisco."
Unable to produce a suitable comeback, Jim Sterling turned and stalked out the door. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Gabriella sank back into the sofa.
"What a dirtbag," Lucille muttered.
"Yeah," Gabriella agreed. "A dirtbag that Troy will be working with for the next several months."
"He can handle him," Lucille replied with a wink. "If he's only a dirtbag around attractive young women, Troy'll be fine. That description certainly doesn't apply to my son."
Gabriella giggled. "'Attractive'? Yes. 'Young woman'? Definitely not!"
...~«ώ»~...
Meanwhile, out on the football field, Troy took a deep breath. "Pete, I hope you don't mind my asking, but why was the previous team physician fired?"
Pete looked him directly in the eye. "Doping. He was also the wrestling team's physician, and we found out that he was providing them with a slew of performance-enhancing drugs. We finally got the proof we needed last month."
"Wow," Troy breathed. He hadn't expected to hear that.
"I'll be frank with you, Troy," Pete continued. "That doctor was good friends with Jim Sterling. They worked together for years. So let's just say that my decision to fire the doctor did not go over well with Coach Sterling. There's no indication of illegal activities with the football team, but it's not too far of a stretch to imagine that it's possible."
Troy and Jack looked equally flabbergasted.
"Funny that that particular piece of information didn't come up when Troy was considering whether or not to take this job," Jack said pointedly.
Pete held up his hands. "Jim can be a bit of a blowhard, but he's a very talented coach, and his staff is first-rate. Like I said, we've found no indication of wrongdoing with the football team or its coaches. This will be a good learning experience for you, Troy. Just keep your eyes and ears open, and report anything suspicious directly to me."
Troy nodded seriously, and Jack looked somewhat relieved. "If we're through here, I think we'd better go see what our wives are up to."
"Right this way," Pete agreed.
...~«ώ»~...
The remainder of their campus visit was uneventful, and Troy's chattered excitedly about the job assignment all the way back to San Francisco.
Wednesday was the Fourth of July, and Troy had to work part of the day. Gabriella took Jack and Lucille across the Bay Bridge to the Berkeley Fourth of July Festival. There they enjoyed food and craft booths, and Jack and Lucille took a sailboat ride. Troy and Gabriella had spent a number of Independence Days at the Berkeley Festival, dating back to Troy's college days, and the familiar surroundings lulled Gabriella as she stood on the pier waiting for Jack and Lucille to return from their sail.
"Hey, beautiful." The warm baritone voice instantly brought a smile to her face. She turned into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her feet off the ground.
"I missed you today," Troy said in her ear.
"I missed you too," she answered. "How was work?"
He lowered her back to the ground and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about work." His gaze swept down to the sandals on her feet, past the cutoff shorts, and up to her V-neck tank, which provided a tempting view of her cleavage. "I want to talk about how damn sexy you look. If I'd known you were out here looking like this all day, I would've been here to rough up any man who dared to look at you."
She laughed, delighted by his possessiveness. "You're looking pretty hot yourself, Dr. Bolton. Definitely not hospital-issue attire." He had changed into board shorts and a tank that showed his muscular arms in all their glory.
He preened exaggeratedly, inciting another round of giggles. He frowned when he noticed the strings of her bikini top tied at the back of her neck, underneath her ponytail.
"You're wearing a bikini. You didn't swim today, did you?" he asked. "Not with your stitches."
She shook her head and raised her hand as if swearing an oath. "I followed my hot doctor's orders to the letter. No swimming. Wear sunscreen. Take frequent breaks to rest. Drink plenty of water." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she threaded her arms around his neck. "And kiss the sexiest man I meet."
He feigned outrage. "That was not one of the rules!"
She grinned and pulled his head down. "It is now," she told him just before she engaged his lips in a steamy kiss. The fireworks weren't due to be launched for several more hours, but Troy could swear he saw flashes of light behind his closed eyelids.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, needing to stop before there was a different kind of explosion. She sensed his struggle to regain control and loosened her hold on him.
"About the bikini," she said, changing the subject for both their sakes. "I figured that this time next year my body may not look so good in a bikini, so I should work it while I still have the chance."
"You'll look gorgeous in a bikini," he reassured her. "You look gorgeous in anything." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Or nothing."
"Troy, you made it!" Jack exclaimed as he and Lucille walked up the sailboat's gangplank. Troy blushed guiltily. "How was work?"
Gabriella giggled, remembering his response when she'd asked that same question. He shot her a dirty look before grinning at his father. "Great, Dad. What do you guys think of the festival?"
"It's really nice," Lucille answered. "We can take a quick tour of the booths with you, if you'd like. We packed a picnic for dinner. Gabriella suggested that we eat on the beach so we'll have a good view of the fireworks."
"Sounds good," Troy said. "Lead the way." He deliberately dropped back to watch his wife's backside as she walked up the pier in her tight cutoffs. "Oh, yeah," he murmured to himself. "It's a great view. Let the fireworks begin!"