Page 7 of Paging Dr. Summers

My stomach dropped, a wave of shame crashing over me. Poor Dr. Summers and his family—they had been through so much in the past year.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” I covered my face with my hands, wondering if I should run away right then and do my best to avoid everyone who lived in this house. If only I hadn’t paid for the rental already, I would move or maybe just go back home.

This supposed “adventure” was off to a shaky start at best. First, I fell off my bike, and then I came on to a grieving doctor. Worse, I’d unknowingly become his neighbor. It all made me feel like vomiting, and not the word kind.

“Hey.” Eden patted my back. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. Honestly, it was probably good for Logan that you ended up his patient today. He keeps everything to himself and has been so closed off, even with those of us who are closest to him. I think maybe you reminded him today that he still has a life to live,and that’s hard for him. But he needs those reminders. Reminders of what it’s like to ...” She paused and pressed her lips together.

I lowered my hands. “What?” I asked, more than curious.

“Just that sometimes a doctor needs medicine too. Likewomanmedicine,” she rushed to say through her giggles.

I hoped she wasn’t thinking I could be that for her brother, because no doubt he would consider me the kind of woman medicine—whatever that was—that came with fifty different side effects, none of them good.

“WELCOME TOTHE BABBLING BROOKE Show. Thanks for joining me while I share my story one song at a time,” Brooke purred in soothing alto tones into my AirPods.

Yes, I was listening to one of my neighbor’s podcast episodes while I ran on the lake’s shore after my shift at the ER. Eden had mentioned the podcast and how much she liked Brooke late the night before, when she’d brought me dinner in my bedroom, where I’d been hiding the entire time Brooke was baking cookies in my kitchen. Which was not something I was proud of. Nor was I comfortable with how intrigued I seemed to be by my new neighbor.

“Tonight, we are going back to 1975. It’s the year a little company by the name of Microsoft was born, Jimmy Hoffa disappeared, the Vietnam War officially ended, and the Eagles, one of the most successful bands of the 1970s, filled the airwaves. Yours truly wasn’t even a twinkle in my mother’s eye. My mother was barely twinkling herself in the seventies, but believe me, she made sure I knew who the Eagles were. She swore she was going to marry Don Henley someday. Brooke Henley kind of has a ring to it, don’t you think?” She laughed, and I found myself half mesmerized by the sound.

“Sadly, the closest Mom ever got to Don was a drumstick autographed by him that she ordered off eBay. She never used it to play her babies—meaning her drums—but I’m pretty sure she slept with it under her pillow every night. One of her favorite songs recorded by theEagles was ‘Take It to the Limit’ from the albumOne of These Nights. It was an A-side song all the way, as Mom would say.”

Brooke sounded so at ease. Nothing like her nervous ramblings.

“The first time I ever really listened to the lyrics, I was ten years old, and I was asking more questions about my father, who I’ve never met. I noticed that every time I asked about him, it wouldn’t take long for Mom to play this song. It finally dawned on me that I should ask her why. Mom said my questions deserved a road trip, so we jumped in her old Toyota Celica Supra with a bag of red licorice and a six-pack of Tab. We sang every Journey song ever recorded as we drove and drove, pretending we were just small-town girls living in a lonely world and taking a midnight train to anywhere. But then ...”

Brooke paused for what I assumed was dramatic effect.

“ ... Mom popped in an old Eagles cassette and ‘Take It to the Limit’ blared in the car, which had seen much better days. With tears in her eyes, she said, ‘Brooke, baby, I always want you to take life to the limit. Don’t you ever stop until you’re satisfied you’ve done everything you desired. But,’ she whispered, ‘when it comes to love, set your limits and find a man who never even comes close to crossing them.’”

“So, maybe I didn’t exactly get the answers I wanted that night, other than to know the man who fathered me had taken it way past the limit. But I learned something more important—something I think I’ve forgotten over the years—and that’s taking life to the limit. I’ve found myself so often just staying in my comfort zone. But it’s not satisfying. There are so many things I want to do that I haven’t done. So, here’s to taking life to the limit and finding meaning in it. My beautiful listeners, all one hundred or so of you, I hope you follow my mom’s advice in life and in love. So, in honor of my mom, let’s take it to the limit one more time. Enjoy this iconic song by the Eagles.”

I slowed my pace on the rocky shore. The sun was just starting to set, its last rays casting a golden glow on the ripples of the lake. It was one of my favorite times of the day. Brooke’s words seemed to add more meaning to the moment, as did the song.

I’d heard it dozens of times, but now the lyrics felt more haunting. Perhaps even like a rebuke for the way I’d been living my life for the past year. In my defense, the best part of me had died. It took time torecover from such a loss. Yet, I was trying to find meaning in life again. It’s why I’d bought the lake house.

As the song wore on, it made me wonder what kind of man Brooke’s father was. What limits did he cross, and how come she never knew him? Her mother certainly seemed like a character.

I shook my head, wondering why I was so intrigued by my odd neighbor. She had an interesting story. But she seemed nothing like my Erica, who was all confidence and grace and woke up every day ready to conquer the world. She had been a force of nature in the biopharmaceutical world as a chemical engineer. Erica had certainly taken life to the limit. Brooke came off like a hot mess, except during her podcast. Maybe I was judging her too harshly and hospitals and attractive doctors really did make her nervous. Admittedly, it flattered me she found me attractive.

Damn it.I just needed to stop thinking about her. I took my AirPods out of my ears even though there were forty-five minutes left in the episode. The last thing I needed in my life was to be someone’s fling. Maybe fifteen or twenty years ago—hell, even ten years ago a fling would have appealed to me. That was before I met Erica. She’d helped me to understand love and relationships. Honestly, to grow up. So, when I was ready to date again, it was going to be with a woman I knew was looking for a genuine connection and not just some cheap summer thrills.

Lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to where I was, a voice startled me. The voice I’d been trying not to think about.

“Dr. Summers,” Brooke called out in a strangled voice, as if she weren’t sure whether she should.

I looked up to see her sitting on a blanket, close to the lakeshore in front of the little stone cottage, with a telescope, a picnic basket, and an old-style boom box surrounding her. She was biting her lip and tucking some hair behind her ear, all the while looking adorably sexy in a hoodie and joggers.

I had half a mind to ignore her and run home. But as Eden had reminded me the night before, avoiding her was foolish behavior. We were going to run into each other from time to time. I just needed toman up and pretend like I wasn’t attracted to her ... Becausethatsounded manly.

She tentatively waved as I slowed my jog to a walk, wondering what she wanted. I’d gotten the feeling from Eden that Brooke wanted to avoid me as much as possible. I was on board with that plan.

As I got closer, I realized she was playing “Rocket Man” by Elton John. I found myself wondering if she had a story to go along with the song.

“Hi, Dr. Summers,” she said shyly as I cautiously approached, avoiding any direct eye contact with her. The last thing I needed was to get trapped by gazing into her gorgeous green eyes.

“You can call me Logan,” I muttered.

“Right, sorry. I’m just trying not to be nervous.” She clasped her hands together and blew out an elongated breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot today, and my plan was to try to avoid you at all costs.” She giggled. “But I realized that since we’re neighbors and we share part of the private beach, it’s probably not feasible. And ... I don’t want that to be who I am. I’ve been running away from a lot of uncomfortable things lately, and I think that’s one of the reasons my mom wanted me to come here and fulfill a summer bucket list. A list she knew wouldn’t exactly be comfortable for me. What I’m trying to say is: I’m sorry about yesterday. My nerves got to me. I feel like they want to get to me right now,” she sang in a high pitch.

---