Doctor Charmer (Doctors of Eastport General)

Epilogue

Ivy

“ W atch your step,” Reggie cautions, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as he navigates the dirt mountain trail. “I didn’t bring my med-kit and have no plans of carrying you on my back the half mile down to the base.”

The sound of my laugh is lost amongst the crunch of our footsteps on the gravelly path. It’s early spring in Eastport. The snow is finally gone but the trees remain naked, tiny buds of future leaves dot the skinny branches. “I’m in good hands,” I repeat his favorite line like a mantra. One that now extends well outside the hospital.

These last few months have been a dream. What we built in a holiday rush continues to stand tall four months later. We are officially that couple.

That annoying couple that can’t keep our hands to ourselves; who wants to spend every available moment together.

“It’s even more beautiful in the summer once everything blossoms, but I couldn’t wait another day to share this with you.” Reggie tosses that charming smile over his shoulder at me and my heart catches it. We’re on the tiny mountain trail that means the world to him. The one his elderly patient, Emily Cartwright, drew for him back his first year of residency. A special place of solitude and comfort for him. A place he has been waiting for the weather to clear to bring me.

Birds serenade us and I feel like a Disney Princess. Reggie surprised me last evening with a full-on, not even my birthday surprise hiking outfit. Everything from waterproof hiking boots, moisture-wicking socks, multi-layers of tops, new jacket, hat and gloves. I left the trekking poles in the back of his SUV, opting to hold his hands instead. “What do you think the birds are singing about?”

Reggie pauses, tipping his chin up as if listening. I take the moment to drink in the man. He’s wearing a light jacket, a blue and white scarf with the hospital logo on it and sunglasses that make him look like a Hollywood star. I can’t believe he’s mine.

His chuckle puts another cheerful smile on my face. “They’re gossiping. I won’t repeat what they’re saying about us because it’s kinda of indecent.”

We reach level ground and Reggie pauses for us to collect ourselves. A tiny gesture of care he’s repeated our entire climb. “I can handle it. Try me.” Our unique flirtatious cadence never wavers. It’s been with us since day one.

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me down a narrow trail, pointing up into the trees. “Up there is a Robin, and he’s a troublemaker. He’s been following us since the bottom of the mountain. He’s got his eye on you.”

“Me? Pray tell.”

Reggie snickers, “well, Robins have good taste. And I overheard him tell the Blue Jay over there that he can’t wait for you to return this summer. Word of you in your volleyball shorts is all the talk in the bird community.”

“I guess word travels fast when you have wings.” I give Reggie a quick smack on his bottom. “And what are the female birds saying about you?”

He paces forward in silence, and I wait for his smart retort. “I guess I should come clean. There is a special red breasted Cardinal I’ve had a relationship with for a few years.”

“Where is she? I brought my slingshot.” I bend and scoop up a pebble from the dirt.

“It’s okay.” Reggie holds out his hand, waiting for me to give him the rock. I do. “I came up here New Year’s day and told her it was over. I found someone else.”

The mention of New Year’s Day stirs up a bevy of happy memories. It was the day we became a public couple for the world to see. “I hope she took it well.”

“I don’t know. Word in the trees is she was last seen leaping off Eagle’s Crest.”

I snicker. Over the last few months, I’ve become familiar with some of the major landmarks in Eastport. “Sounds like she went scoping out a new doctor in Westport. Too bad she’ll never find one as charming.”

“My thoughts, exactly.” Reggie leads me between two thin tree trunks to a landing and pauses. He waves a hand to his side like a circus ringleader, his words just above a whisper, “we’re here.”

I step around him, pacing to a clearing. The lookout view unfolds in front of me, and it’s nothing short of breathtaking. The valley stretches out below, a patchwork of greens and browns dot the forest below us. Winding roads, charming cottages and powder puff clouds in the distance.

A gentle breeze rustles the budding leaves of the trees, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. Reggie steps next to me and points to something far to the left. A river I hadn’t seen. A silver ribbon cutting through the valley. I drink it in, all of it. Outside of Reggie's apartment, this may be my most favorite place in Eastport.

It’s peaceful. Deafening still and I feel what little stress I have in my body drift away. Up here, in the vastness of nature, any problems I carry feel insignificant. I understand why a doctor with a stressful job would fall in love with this place. Standing here puts things in perspective.

I point to a distant mountain which is dotted with the remnants of winter. “Not all the snow is gone.”

“Not yet. But I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to share this with you.” Reggie slips his hand into mine and we pace forward to the crest of the landing. We stare out in silence at the awe-inspiring view. I get it. I feel it. I feel him.

“Thank you.” I whisper. “I know how much this place means to you. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Just the start,” he says, and I swoon a little more. We still tease and flirt like we’re teenagers, but we no longer use it as a deflection to hide our hearts. He sees me. And I see him. “Open your jacket for me.”

I feel my brow rise, not sure I’ve heard him correctly. He steps in front of me, his stormy eyes focusing on the zipper of my jacket, and I realize he’s not kidding.

“Reg, I love you and all, but it’s forty degrees. I’m not about to get busy with you in the dirt at the top of this mountain. No matter how many sexy stares you shoot my way.”

The corners of his mouth tip up in delight. “Coach Flirts a lot,” he teases me. “Open your jacket," he demands with a hint of a reward. "There’s something in your inside pocket I want you to read.”

“Oh.” I lower my chin and bite my lip to hide my embarrassment. I don’t tell him that if he had brought a blanket, I might have been totally down. I remove my gloves and tug on the zipper. My hands pat both inside pockets. That’s when I feel it. A piece of paper in the inner left pocket. I look up, capturing Reggie’s hopeful stare. This man is full of surprises.

I reach expecting a card and pause for the briefest of seconds when I realize it’s a folded piece of paper. My fingers unfold the canary yellow page and I lose my breath when I recognize the logo at the top of the flier. USA Volleyball . “Reggie? What is this?”

My eyes scan the flier, but my mind can’t comprehend what I’m reading. “Doctor Richmond, who heads up the Physical Therapy unit, told me about your rehab a few months back. He’s connected, as you can imagine, with almost every sports federation and league in the northeast. I asked him to find a summer league that would allow you to showcase your skills and put you back on the map for an Olympic qualification.”

He says the words as if he's merely written a prescription for Tylenol. This is much bigger than that. This is … a tear rolls down my cheek. This is everything I have ever dreamed up. Reggie doesn’t have to explain further. He somehow found an open volleyball camp and tournament sponsored by one of the top organizations associated with the Olympics. Camps like this are few and far between. Nearly impossible to get into, especially for a player not affiliated with a top ranked team.

Tournaments like funnel players from unranked programs to qualifiers. It's the most difficult of all the paths back to competitive volleyball, which is why I never considered. Less than five percent of Olympic team members come through this path. I don’t allow myself to dream for more than a second. “My injury.”

Soft lips press to my forehead, “you are fully recovered. No restrictions. Doctor’s orders.” I think back two months. Angie promised a quick recovery and she was right. Three weeks after the procedure I was back on the court with the kids. I’ll never forget the look of amazement and awe on Chelsea’s face when I spiked on her in practice.

I never allowed myself to fully embrace that moment. The next hour I expected the pain to return. For there to be a price to pay for thinking I could fly again. But it never arrived. Not the next day. Nor the next week when I dove for a ball I would have let fall for a point a month prior. Within a week I began to feel like my old self.

“But I’m thirty-two years old. Everyone else on the team is going to be in their early twenties.” I feed him the next excuse. My mind can conjure up reasons for days. I've had years to construct them.

“Good. You can teach them a thing or two. Experience comes with age.” He doesn’t waver in his belief in me.

I point to the flier. “It’s six weeks long.”

“During the summer. School is out.” His hands land on my shoulders, his gaze boring into me. He knows my work schedule. We hadn't talked in detailed but I was looking forward to spending the summer with him. “I paid the non-refundable deposit. The volleyball camp is only thirty minutes from the hospital. You can stay at my place if you’re ok with it.” He pauses, giving me something else ponder. “Scouts from the Olympic committee will be at the games. This is your second chance. I'll be in stands for every game – bought that extra large Stanley cup." He tilts his head, his distractingly handsome smile full on beaming. "The pom-poms are on order and will be here tomorrow. I want the entire world to see you soaring like the angel you are.”

Tears flood my eyes because this man has knocked down every barrier. He’s cleared a path for me to chase after my dream. A dream I thought was no longer achievable. I wrap my arms around him, smashing my lips into his. I give him the sweetest of kisses, both of us knowing this is just the start of the rewards coming his way.

Hand in his hair, I give him the kiss of the year. “Thank you so much Reggie. This truly means the world to me.”

“I do have my ulterior motive. I now get to see watch you in your indecent shorts practicing as you whip yourself into Olympic competition shape.” His tongue swipes across his lower lip and I want to kiss this man a thousand times more.

“Is that all you want?” I’m a relentless tease.

His eyes warm, “there is one other thing.” His voice lowers, an air of seriousness creeping in. “I wanted to circle back to something you said a few minutes ago …”

My head swirls as I try to think of all the things I’ve said since we’ve stepped on this mountain. My eyes close as I realize what it is. My heart burst with warmth with the realization.

“Something about forty degrees…” his face lights up with the joy of a man whose heart is full.

“I said I love you.” I’m standing inches in front of him. Our eyes locked. The last few months have been a whirlwind. These words have been in my head for some time. On the tip of my tongue just as many. I thought for weeks when I spoke these words, they would be in a bold declaration. But that’s not who we are. We are flirts and charms, and heart felt one-liners. So, of course, that’s how it was delivered.

“I love you.” He says the words and I’m not sure if he’s repeating my words or making a statement. His hand rises to cup my face, wiping away any doubts. “I love you Ivy Springwood. I love coach flirts a lot. I love the hard-headed woman who takes care of everyone but herself. I love the woman who puts me in my place. I love you Ivy, forever and a day.”

His words are perfect. This moment is perfect. This spot is perfect. I tip up on my toes and give him a tender kiss. We have climbed the mountain together and we now get to enjoy the view.

We are charmingly perfect together.

***

Thank you for reading Doctor Charmer.