MEDICAL ROMANCE BOOKS--TRAGEDY HAS TORN THEM APART--
Doctor Michael Forsythe and his wife, Polly, can't seem to find peace and happiness again.
But sometimes the most unlikely situations, and people, have the power to heal broken heartsâ€ï¿½..even when the doctor can’t apply the old adage, “Physician, heal thyself.â€
Polly wants a child. But little Clover is everything Polly can't abide--unattractive, out of control, sly. And who names a baby Clover? She's the exact opposite of Polly's beautiful lost daughter. And she's really badly behaved into the bargain.
˃˃˃ THE PROBLEM IS, POLLY'S STUCK WITH CLOVER. IT'S HER FAULT THE LITTLE GIRL'S FATHER IS IN THE HOSPITAL, AND THERE'S NO ONE ELSE TO CARE FOR HER..
It's beyond irritating that Clover gets along fine with Michael, and with Isabelle, Polly's impossible, eccentric mother. And Polly's sister Norah dotes on the kid.
The only one the child can't abide is Polly.
˃˃˃ IN PICKING CLOVER, ACCLAIMED MEDICAL NOVELIST BOBBY HUTCHINSON EXPLORES EVERY PARENT'S WORST NIGHTMARE--
And the path through that nightmare that only love can provide.
Excerpt:
A small, unattractive little girl sat beside Isabelle. The child was boosted to table height by several telephone books. In front of her was a mug of milky coffee, and between her fingers she had a small piece of paper towel rolled up to resemble a cigarette. She was holding it exactly the way Isabelle held hers, and she had her denim covered legs crossed at the knee just the way Isabelle did.
“This is Clover. She’s Jerome’s kid.†Isabelle gestured at the child and then at the coffeepot. “You want some? I just made a pot.â€
Polly went to the cupboard and got a mug, surreptitiously checking to make certain it was clean before she poured coffee into it. Isabelle’s cupboards were often infested with bugs, which bothered Polly a whole lot and her mother not at all.
She sat at the table, thinking it was unfortunate Jerome Fox’s daughter hadn’t inherited his good looks. Clover was a most unappealing looking child with her stringy pale hair and watery, narrow eyes.
To make up for her critical thoughts, Polly gave the little girl a wide, friendly smile. “Your daddy said he wants you to come outside with him now,†she told her in a kind tone.
The girl gave her a suspicious look and didn’t smile back or move an inch from her perch. She put her imitation cigarette to her lips and pretended to take a long drag, then she blew as if exhaling smoke. She even squinted at Polly the exact way Isabelle did when she exhaled.
It should have been funny, but Polly was disgusted, instead. Her mother’s smoking was something both she and Norah abhorred. They’d tried every ruse to get Isabelle to stop, with no success. Allowing a child to imitate such a dreadful habit was nothing short of criminal in Polly’s estimation.
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