Open Heart: Second Year {On Halt}

Chapter 8- What's done is done

"Alan Ramsey. Nice to meet you."

There was no way I would have ever expected Ethan's father, Alan Ramsey to show up suddenly in the very place I worked. The very place we both worked.

And there was no way this man could actually be his father!

He hardly looked a year over forty and there were no signs of aging. Flawless sun-kissed skin with dark brown hair without any specks of greying strands and stern blue eyes which indistinctly matched his son's. His physique was well-maintained, sturdy but in muscular sense. He was too young to be Ethan's father, and even though Ethan himself looked almost a decade younger than his 36 years-- Alan was simply...too freaking eerily youthful!

God bless these genes.

Irrespective of my startled expression, I managed to bring forward a polite reply without giving much of what I was postulating, "I am Dr. Charlotte Turner. Dr. Ramsey is my director."

Alan stared at me for a few moments, mediocre eyes hinting recognition, "Ah! Charlotte Turner! The rookie! He's...talked about you before."

"He has?" I nervously laughed, "I hope nothing too bad."

"Ethan doesn't tell me everything. We hardly talk." He replied in a flat voice, "But he has mentioned about you three or four times. It seems like you got under his skin."

How was I supposed to reply to that? This was the first time ever I was meeting Ethan's father and I have absolute zero expertise in talking to your boyfriend's parents. I noticed that Alan carried an irritated expression which was trying to conceal the insistence in his eyes. His posture was stiff, a fleece jacket hung loosely to around his robust frame. He was average heighted and I couldn't note any immediate resemblance between the father and son.

Clearing my throat, I offered, "Uh, if you want to wait in here for him to get back, I'm sure that'd be fine."

But he shook his head, "I'm in a bit of rush. I have to get back to Providence soon, but I've got something I really need to talk to him about. "

"Providence?" I frowned.

"Yes. That's where I live. That's where Ethan is from, hasn't he told you?"

What?!

Ethan was from Providence? But he had told me...

"I had...some personal work-" a muscle tickled near his jaw, "I went to visit my parents."

"Where do they live?" I asked instead. A normal question.

"Charleston...I heard what happened." Ethan met my eyes. They were familiar and comforting but his words were cold.

He had told me that his parents lived in Charleston. And he wasn't close to either of them because they wanted him to become someone different. He instead chose to be a doctor and had severed ties with them altogether.

Did he...lie about it?

No. He couldn't. There must be something more to that and I seriously can't just doubt him on every veneer.

"Dr. Turner?" he called me and I drew back.

"Maybe I can help you track him down." I offered and pushed the question at bay, "I have been looking for a break."

He gave me a pleased expression, "Ah. Thank you so much. The sooner we get it done, the better it is."

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We walked in the direction of the general wards where Ethan often visited the patients assigned to the senior residents. He was the one who delivered the final word, about the diagnosis, in case of any trouble or discharge confirmation. Much to my dismay, he wasn't present in the general wards.