Falling for Her Army Doc

by Dianne Drake

  “Then you really are a cook.”

  “Let’s just say that I’m pretty sure I know my way around a kitchen. Not sure about anything gourmet, but the muffins were easy enough and the coffee was self-defense. One of the nurses in Afghanistan made coffee and it was horrible. I’d been there three days when I decided to take it over myself. Either that or no coffee, because it was eating away my stomach lining.”

  Lizzie laughed. “Was she that bad or were you just that gullible?”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “I may have known the answer to that at one time. But, since I don’t now, I’d like to say she was bad and leave it at that.”

  Did he know how much he’d just revealed to her? It had come so easily now, after she’d spent so much time asking him questions he wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. Then suddenly...this. She wasn’t going to get too excited, but she did hope it was a step forward. Hoped in a non-medical way, of course.

  “So, what’s on your agenda for today?’ she asked, fully expecting him to draw a blank on that.

  But the bright look coming over his face told her otherwise.

  “Clothes. What I have on...that’s it. Hand-me-downs left behind at the hospital. And shoes.”

  “Then we go shopping,” she said, smiling.

  He chuckled. “I think I’m one of those men who hates shopping.”

  “Amnesia doesn’t cut it with me, Mateo. You need clothes—we get you clothes. And I love to shop, so prepare yourself. I could turn this into an all-day outing.”

  Mateo moaned. “My mother loves shopping and when I was young, I was forced to walk behind her, carrying her handbag. It was humiliating, especially to a little boy who was bullied and called a mama’s boy, but it worked out because I worked out and got strong, which scared away the bullies.” He smiled. “I wasn’t really a fighter, but nobody ever knew that.”

  “Well, I won’t ask you to carry my handbag unless you really want to.”

  Mateo moaned again. “Can’t we just do it online?”

  “What? And miss the fun of it?” Lizzie took another sip of the coffee and arched her eyebrows in surprise. “This is really good. I’m glad you remembered, because you can make it every morning you’re here.”

  “Actually, I didn’t remember the coffee. I remembered my mom and her love of everything papaya. This was just a lucky guess.”

  “So, Dr. Mateo Sanchez, skilled general surgeon...”

  “Former general surgeon.”

  “I’ll get on to that later. Maybe ask Janis to sit down hard on Dr. Jenkins and come up with a better treatment plan for you. Anyway, surgeon, chef, devoted son...what else?

  “Not much technology sense.”

  “With the technology sense of a nene.”

  “What’s a nene?” he asked.

  “A goose.”

  She didn’t know if a few memories really were slipping back or if these were things he’d simply kept to himself. Maybe to maintain some control? But she wasn’t a shrink and, whatever the case was, she wouldn’t ask.

  “The official Hawaiian bird, actually.”

  “Seriously, with all the pretty little colorful birds everywhere, Hawaii chose a goose?”

  She turned and strolled out to the lanai, where one of those “colorful birds”—a beautiful yellow-green amakihi—was sipping nectar from one of the nectar stations her dad had built. He’d had such a way with the birds, and with flowers. It was all still there—the colors, the care he’d taken... It was the first thing she went to look at every single morning of her life.

  “The goose is a worthy bird,” she said, stepping away from where the amakihi was feeding, so as not to disturb it. “They’ve been here half a million years, and they don’t damage their habitat, so they’ve earned their place.” She studied the muffin he was holding out for her. “I’m assuming papaya?”

  “I was taught to take advantage of what you’re given and be grateful for it.”

  “As long as you didn’t climb the tree to get it, I’m good. But if you did...”

  Mateo chuckled. “It was on the ground. Trust me. I may not remember a lot of things, but I do remember that head injuries and climbing up papaya trees don’t mix. So, about my clothes...”

  * * *

  The headache wasn’t bad, but it was too early to feel this tired. All he wanted to do was sit out on the lanai and doze, even though he’d been the one to suggest clothes-shopping. Too much, too soon. Making the coffee hadn’t been bad, but baking the muffins had done him in.

  He had to show her he was better, because if he didn’t she’d pack him off to a hospital somewhere. There was nothing in him that wanted to go. In fact, even though he’d worked in a hospital, being turned into a hospital patient filled him with a fear that, when he thought about it, nearly paralyzed him.

  He wanted to know why, but the answer didn’t come to him when he tried to find that piece of himself. In fact, the more he visualized himself as a patient, the more he sweated and came close to an anxiety attack.

  There were so many mysteries to his life still locked away that when he let it happen the frustration of it all led to a bad temper. But bad temper didn’t solve his problems. So why go there? Why not detour around that roadblock? Because perhaps, at the end of the road, something better might be waiting for him.

  It made sense. Now all he had to do was convince his logical mind to follow through. And that was the tough part. Because the other part of his mind still wanted to kick and rebel.

  But not so much since Lizzie.

  * * *

  “It’s not too far. If you’re up for a walk, it’s about a mile.”

  She was dressed in a Hawaiian wrap-skirt, midi-length, yellow with a white floral print. Her shirt was a strappy white tank top that left a bit of her belly exposed. No bra. Hair tucked into a floppy straw hat with a few wild tendrils escaping, oversize sunglasses, and sandals.

  Normally when she wasn’t on duty she slouched around in terry shorts and an oversize T-shirt—with a bra. Going out with Mateo, for some uncharted reason, she wanted to look better. Funny how looking better made her feel better. Today she was feeling great. Something that hadn’t happened very much recently.

  “In fact, there are several shops, so you’ll have a choice of clothing.”

  He stood, gave her an appreciative stare, and slipped into his sandals. “So what kind of clothing are we talking about?” he asked, as his gaze stopped on her exposed belly.

  “Whatever you like. Do you remember the way you used to dress?”

  She did like the three-day stubble on him, and hoped it wouldn’t go once he’d fixed himself up.

  “I remember scrubs. A couple of suits... Don’t know if I used to hate them then, but the thought of wearing a suit now...” He faked a gigantic cringe. “Pretty sure I slept in the buff.”

  “Too much information,” Lizzie said, fighting back a grin—and a vision of Mateo in the buff.

  As a doctor, she’d seen a lot of him, but not all. As a woman, her fantasies went well beyond—and that was dangerous.

  Mateo and her on the beach. On a blanket. Him rubbing sunscreen on her back, her shoulders, her thighs...

  Definitely dangerous territory, since she hadn’t sorted out what kind of man, if any, she wanted in her future. “You’ve been in the Army for a while. You weren’t sleeping in the buff there.”

  He laughed. “Well, maybe if I didn’t in the past, it’s something I might start doing in the future.”

  “Beach shorts. Tropical print, lightweight, somewhat baggy, stopping just at the tops of your knees. And a sleeveless T-shirt. Maybe some cargo shorts and a few cotton floral print button-up shirts. Also a pair of long khaki pants, with a white, breezy cotton shirt.”

  “And here I was, picturing myself more as a surf bum.”

  “Do you surf?” she
asked, her mind still stuck on beach shorts and sleeveless T-shirts.

  “Don’t have a clue. Do you want to teach me?”

  “Your last doctor advised you to stay away from activities like that for at least four months. It hasn’t been four months.”

  “Then it’s a good thing my last doctor no longer has a say, and my new friend just might be willing to show me some basic, non-threatening surfing moves. If she surfs.”

  “She does—and she’s very good at it.” She hadn’t done nearly as much of it as she would have liked, owing to her dad’s condition, alongside her hyper zest for work. But the thought of surfing with Mateo—well, at least bodyboarding—caused a little flush of excitement. “And if she decides to take you out, she’s in complete control.”

  “I never thought she wouldn’t be.” He smiled. “Anyway, my look is your decision. Except red. I won’t wear red.”

  “Why not? With your dark skin color...”

  He shook his head. “Too much like blood. I’ve seen more of that than I care to. Worn too much of that on me. No red.”

  “Red’s overdone,” she said, hiking her oversize canvas bag up to her shoulder. “But blue...that’s a color.”

  “So is yellow,” he said, smiling. “On you.”

  “Then you’re the type of guy who notices these things about a woman, because in my experience—”

  “What experience?” he interrupted.

  “Well, in my case not much lately.”

  Not for years, to be honest. But Mateo didn’t need to be burdened with her problems when he had enough of his own to wrestle with.

  “You know what they say about all work and no play?” he quipped lightly.

  “You’re right about that,” she returned.

  “No, seriously. What is it they say?” His eyebrows knit into a frown.

  “You don’t remember?” she asked, highly suspicious of the twinkle in his eyes.

  Was this the real Mateo coming out, or one he was inventing just for her? She’d seen that in patients before—turning into the person they believed she wanted to see. The patient with excruciating headaches who refused to admit to them just to maintain a certain image. The patient with Parkinson’s disease who denied his symptoms as a way of denying the disease.

  People showed what they wanted—either to deny to themselves or put on a brave front for someone else—and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what Mateo was doing...showing her a side of himself he believed she wanted or needed to see. Maybe to maintain the roof over his head for a while? Maybe because he wanted to impress her?

  Whatever was going on, she liked that spark, and hoped it was genuine.

  He chuckled. “Of course I do. I was just wondering if you did, since you practically admitted you don’t play. But you’re not dull, Lizzie. Maybe not bursting with as much joie de vivre as you could be, or maybe should be, but definitely not dull.”

  “Well, dull is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly effervescent, though.”

  That was the truth. She was hard-working, serious, dedicated, and passionate about her career, but when it came to the personal aspects of her life, there’d never been much there. Not enough time. Or real interest.

  “Then maybe you’re not seeing what I’m seeing.”

  “Or maybe you don’t know what you’re seeing because you’ve forgotten what effervescence looks like in a person.”

  She motioned him to follow her off the lanai and then to the road in the front of the house. The hospital, and her home, were just a little way outside La’ie, on the north end of the island. It was out of the way, but bursting with life.

  A lot of people at the hospital commuted up from Honolulu, or one of the larger cities to the south, like Kane’ohe, but she liked this area—liked the relative smallness of it, loved the people. Even though she’d left huge and disproportionate New York City for this, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now.

  Could she return to big city living? If she had to. Would she want to, though? Not a chance. Living in paradise had spoiled her.

  “So, what we’re going to see will be surf shops for the most part. There are a couple of shops that specialize in other things—clothes that are more traditional, shoes, those sorts of things. And then there are the food vendors. All I can say is...heaven.”

  “Where every day is a holiday?”

  “It can be, if that’s what you want. Oh, and just so you know, I need to run into the hospital and sign some papers. You’re welcome to come in with me, or wait outside if the old familiar surroundings make you uncomfortable.”

  “Snakes make me uncomfortable. And bullets. And I don’t think I’m especially fond of clingy women, but I could be wrong about that one. Oh, and cats.”

  “You don’t like cats?” she asked.

  “Actually, I love cats. Love their independence and attitude. But I’m allergic.”

  “I’ve always wanted a cat. Or a dog. But we moved around too much, and my dad didn’t think it would be practical, taking an animal with us. I had a goldfish once. His name was Gus. Had to give him to a friend when we moved from Virginia to Germany.”

  “Because your dad was a surgeon. Career Army?”

  “Yep—I was seeing the world at a very young age.”

  “And enjoying it?”

  “Most of the time. Unless he had to leave me behind when he was in a combat zone. Even so, he gave me everything I needed and wanted.”

  Except a mother. Somewhere along the way her dad had decided he didn’t have enough time or energy for another marriage, and Lizzie had often wondered if, in the end, having someone with him besides her might have helped him hang on to reality a little longer.

  “It must have been tough on your dad, raising a daughter and maintaining his military career.”

  “It was what it was, and we managed,” Lizzie said, as they walked along the narrow road, while people on bikes and scooters passed by on both sides of them. “When you never have a person in your life—like I didn’t have my mother—you get used to it and make it work. My dad and I did.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “She lost interest in the life we lived, then in my dad, and left us when I was about five. Died a couple years after that.”

  “So she never had a chance to make amends?”

  “She could have. But she didn’t want to.”

  “And your dad...?”

  “He wasn’t interested in trying before Alzheimer’s hit. Then afterwards he didn’t remember her at all.”

  “It couldn’t have been easy on you, taking care of your dad the way you did.”

  “It wasn’t—but I gave him the care he gave me when I was a child. I couldn’t just...send him away somewhere.”

  “He isn’t the reason you’re here?”

  “Actually, he is. They have an excellent treatment program at the hospital and I think it gave him more than anybody might have expected. But he lived at home because he loved it there, and I didn’t have the heart to take that away from him. Especially his garden. When he was losing so many things in his life, his flowers still made him happy. It’s nice, looking out every day, seeing a little bit of my dad still there. Somehow it makes the end seem easier. But don’t get me wrong. I miss him. We had a tough life together, which was no one’s fault, but he always tried. He just wasn’t single father material, I suppose you could say. And...and now I look at his flowers and wonder if we both could have tried a little harder. Of course, Alzheimer’s stepped in before we had much of a chance to do anything.”

  “How long has he been gone?”

  As they walked down the path to the hospital Mateo took hold of her hand and she didn’t pull away. It was nice feeling his touch. Having someone there who cared...at least for a little while. His hand
was soft, and she could almost imagine it caressing her skin, giving her goosebumps.

  Maybe she’d give him a few goosebumps as she ran her hand over his tight six-pack abs...

  Nice dream.

  “A year, now. One less brilliant surgeon in the world.”

  She noticed Mateo was starting to lag behind, so she slowed her pace to match his, but when she did he slowed down even more. This doctor clearly wasn’t comfortable returning to the hospital, even if he was no longer a patient there.

  “Do you need to take a break?” she asked, coming to a stop on the narrow road that led to the hospital’s front door. It was lined with a rainbow of flowers and green, with draping wisps of vine hanging from the trees.

  She’d always loved this path. It had welcomed her the day she’d first arrived, and every day since then. And this was part of her dilemma. To stay or to leave? Admittedly, she wasn’t as restless as she’d been only a few weeks before, but her choice still wasn’t clear. In other words, she didn’t know what she wanted. She’d spent a lifetime living the life her dad had wanted for her, and now it was her turn to choose. But what?

  Truly, she didn’t know.

  “No,” Mateo said. “I’m fine. Just not excited to be back here.” He took his place against a large lava rock, leaned casually back on it, and folded his arms across his chest. “You go do what you need to do, and I’ll wait here.”

  He pointed to the little shop just down the road. The front was totally open to the air, and several clothing racks spilled out onto the walkway.

  “Or wander down there and pick out the most hideous clothes you can imagine.”

  “I’ll be about ten minutes,” she said, heading to the front door, walking along the path and crossing over the circular drive that led straight to the welcome sign: Welina. Greetings to you. It was a friendly place to some. But to some, not so much.