Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (web based ebook reader txt) 📗

the stove. “Men are such idiots,” she mumbled, tossing the potholder to the side before propping her elbows on the island. “How did you find out he was married?”

Chest tight, Roxie crossed her arms. “His wife found a picture of me on his phone. I wasn’t wearing much. To find out who I was, she showed it to everyone she knew until someone recognized me.”

Making the obvious assumption, Beth said, “You sent him a picture?”

Roxie shook her head. “No. I’m still not sure when he took it.”

“Oh, my God, Rox. What an asshole.”

Tears she’d been holding in for nearly a month threatened to fall. With a deep breath, she blurted out the rest. “Mama doesn’t believe me. About the wife or the picture. She says I’ve disgraced the family for the last time, and I need to live someplace else. I assume that’s when she called you.”

Beth rounded the island, and Roxie braced for the hug she could see coming. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. The embrace seemed to last forever, and it took all of her willpower not to collapse into a pathetic sobbing heap on the floor.

Pulling away, the cousin who had always had her back said, “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, but that was wrong of Aunt Ginny. She should have supported you. What about Uncle Dennis and Amanda?”

Roxie’s father and sister had been just as happy to see her go. “It doesn’t matter,” she deflected. “I never liked that town anyway.”

“Oh, honey. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The answer should have been obvious. “This isn’t something I’m proud of.”

“Now you listen to me,” she said, grasping Roxie’s upper arms. “You aren’t the first woman to fall for a lying, cheating man, and you won’t be the last. They’re all jerks. All of them.”

Beth’s husband walked through the door, and upon hearing his wife’s blanket statement, asked, “Did I miss an anniversary or something?”

Closing the distance between them, Beth threw her arms around Joe and kissed him square on the mouth. “Thank you for not being an asshole.”

Brows arched high, he replied, “You’re welcome?”

Unable to help herself, Roxie burst out laughing. Yes, her life sucked at the moment, but for the first time in longer than she could remember, she liked where she was. And that felt pretty damn good.

“We have you all set up in the break room,” said Helga Stepanovich, owner and operator of Little Guppies Daycare Center. She led Alex to a back room that held a small round table, two large refrigerators, and a functional kitchenette in the corner.

The storm had done substantial damage to Helga’s building, which meant closing the center until repairs could be completed. As of Friday morning, she’d been back in operation for four days and already had three kids out with the flu. Hence, Alex’s morning of dosing out the vaccine. Some of the toddlers had already been given the shot, but the ones who missed earlier clinics would get the dreaded poke today, with their parents’ permission, of course.

Thankfully, Flora had ordered extra.

Once Alex was ready for the first child, he gave Helga the word and waited. To his surprise, Roxie walked through the door.

“Hey, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were doing the shots in here.”

Despite the embarrassing amount of times he’d peered out of his windows hoping to catch a glimpse of her, Alex hadn’t seen Roxie since he’d driven her home earlier in the week. Wednesday morning he’d seen her headed out for a jog but couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to suddenly need to be outside.

“This is where Helga put me,” Alex answered, sounding like a complete idiot. “I thought the repairs were finished. Are you working here?”

Roxie stepped past his makeshift medical station to reach the closest refrigerator. “I’m just volunteering today. Two of Helga’s regular helpers are out sick.”

This really was going around. “You aren’t worried about catching the flu?”

She twisted the cap off a bottle of water. “I don’t get sick. My grandmother once said it’s because I ate dirt as a child. I guess that’s good for your immune system.”

Alex blinked in amazement. “No. No, it isn’t.”

His correction didn’t seem to bother her. “Whatever the reason, germs leave me alone.”

“You can get a flu shot today if you’re interested. I have plenty.”

“Nope,” she replied. “I don’t do needles.”

Her sleeves were pushed up, and he noticed the ink on the inside of her left wrist. “You don’t do needles, but you have a tattoo?”

“I have three tattoos,” she corrected. “But they aren’t the same.”

A needle was a needle, but before Alex could argue, Helga brought in his first patient. “This won’t hurt a bit,” she lied to the child, who looked ready to run.

“Hi there, Daniel,” Alex greeted the little boy. Nearly every child on the island came to the Fielding Family Practice at some point, and Alex knew this one was timid. “Come have a seat right here,” he said, tapping the chair in front of him. “Let’s talk.”

“Just talk?” the boy asked.

Roxie caught his eye with an expression that said don’t lie to him.

“Come on and sit,” he repeated, ignoring the question.

The four-year-old came closer but avoided the chair. “I don’t want a poke.”

This was easier at the office when the parents served as a reassuring presence.

“How about if you sit on my lap?” Roxie offered, dropping into the chair. “I’ll make sure the doc behaves himself.”

Daniel looked from Roxie to Alex and back before nodding. “Okay,” he said, and let Roxie lift him onto her knee. “Mama said you gave Gigi a poke, and she cried all night.”

The boy’s baby sister had gotten her four-month shots the week before.

“Today won’t be anything like what Gigi got,” he assured him. “But you need to have this one little shot today so that you don’t get sick and then give it to her. She isn’t as strong as you are.”

His bottom lip puckered out. “I don’t want a poke.”

There was a