by Robyn Carr
“Did I mention I’m being sued?” she said.
“No. No wonder you don’t want to go back to work!”
“Oh, I’ve been sued before. It might settle or just go away but if it doesn’t it could drag on. There was no malpractice. We did everything humanly possible. It really took its toll on me—it was a hard one. A terrible accident involving teenagers. We all did what we could, but were so helpless. I’ve lost patients before—in my business it happens too often. It was awful.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you worried about the lawsuit?” he asked.
“I worry about everything,” she admitted. “But when I’m in the moment, in surgery, I’m not worrying, I’m performing and thinking hard. Before and after, I worry too much.”
* * *
On the weekend, the park began to fill up with campers. The weather was outstanding—sunny and warm spring weather. Tom and his oldest son, Jackson, came to the property to help Maggie finish putting in the garden. She had several flats of flowers and vegetable starters. Cal dug in and helped while Beau did his job chasing the rabbits into the woods, and Sully watched over everyone, giving plenty of advice.
“Like I’ve never put in a garden before,” Tom said.
“What haven’t you done, Tom?” Maggie asked.
“Never did surgery,” he said. “Yet.”
Tom Canaday was a big, happy guy whose wife divorced him years ago. At first she wanted to take the girls, Nikki and Brenda, to her new home in Aurora, but that didn’t last long. The girls were miserable away from the home and school they knew and Tom convinced his ex-wife to give them back to him, that he was in a better position to take care of them and see they were doing well in school. Nikki was now seventeen and Brenda, fourteen. His ex visited from time to time and, as far as Maggie knew from the gossip, they were amicable and got along better divorced than they had as a married couple.
Tom had indeed had a million jobs and on top of that was a volunteer on the search-and-rescue team.
The campground welcomed a lot of what Maggie referred to as weekend warriors. They began to pull in on Thursday and Friday afternoons. A few planned to stay a few days but most would pack up on Sunday night. During school breaks, whole families or large groups of young people would stay through two weekends. And school breaks came at various times all over the country.
“We’re going to do some hiring for the spring and summer. Interested, Jackson?” Maggie asked.
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Everything,” she said. “From spring till August this place will be busy. I’m still trying to hold Sully down. Do you have any time?”
“I can take on a little work,” Jackson said, smiling handsomely. “This is not a bad place to be in summer. Girls everywhere.”
“Thanks, Maggie. As if college isn’t hard enough on my nerves,” Tom said, staking the tomato plants.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you ask Nikki if she wants a summer job, too. Maybe they can spy on each other and tattle?”
“Oh, much better, Maggie,” Tom said, one knee in the dirt. He looked up at her and shook his head. “You’re just looking for ways to make my life easier, aren’t you? Now I have to worry about two of them. Schoolwork is a priority.”
“Well.” Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Until school is out for summer, if you can come after school, I’ll give you dinner and when things are slow you can study. You can try to study, anyway.”
“I’ve been working for my dad the last two years and I have good grades. He just doesn’t want to part with his cheap labor,” Jackson said.
“He doesn’t want you looking at too many bikinis,” Sully said.
“Oh? Is there such a thing?” Jackson asked, grinning.
The camp came alive in the sunshine. The lake was still too cold to enjoy swimming but women rolled up their shorts and sat in lawn chairs in the sun by the water. Maggie strung up a couple of macramé hammocks and they were filled before she could walk away. There was a steady stream of people through the store all weekend, getting ice for their coolers, grabbing items they missed like butter, Tabasco, salt and pepper. Enid left early—she wasn’t usually in on weekends but was coming around to make sure they were covered since Sully’s surgery. Her cookies and breakfast muffins sold like crazy.
There was activity beginning on other spots around the lake—a dozen rental cabins across the lake, a Girl Scout camp, a church camp, a US Forest Service campground with bathrooms but no laundry, showers or store. Most of them were just starting to get ready for summer vacationers. A couple of them, on the other side of the lake, had little mini-marts but no general store. A family camp across the lake sold gas for the boats. People who needed to do a little shopping had to choose between a trip to Leadville, Timberlake or Sully’s.
Maggie kept the store open a little later than usual, enjoying the sound of laughter, the smell of cooking fires. Sully operated the cash drawer and Maggie knew there was no way she could leave him yet. Dusk came, the air cooled and campers settled their lawn chairs around their campfires. Cal came into the store carrying two covered plates.
“I thought you might not have time to cook,” he said.
“What have you got there?” she asked.
“Look and see. Where’s Sully?”
“He’s checking inventory,” she said. She pulled the foil off one plate. “Oh my,” she said. It was a skinless chicken breast cut in strips, smothered in a light sauce surrounded by broccoli, peppers, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, onions and a couple of baby corns tossed in for color. “Sauce?”
“Yogurt, flavored with spices. Try it.”
She took the offered fork and dipped into it. “Wow. You did this on that little grill of yours?”
“The Coleman stove. I’m a pretty experienced camper.”
“Gee,” she said, chewing and swallowing. “Imagine what you could do with a real stove. Did you go to town today? Shop for dinner?”
“Yesterday.”
“I have to stay open a little later tonight,” she said. “I hope it’s not past your bedtime.”
“I’ll manage,” he said. “Go get Sully.”
After eating at the checkout counter, Sully went back to the house. Maggie washed up the plates and gave them back to Cal. Then she dimmed the lights in the store and they sat on the front porch for a while. They sat side by side, their feet up on the porch rail. The store was officially closed but if someone came down the path and needed something, she’d unlock the door.
Since no one did, they talked. Softly. He put his arm around her again and told her that he admired her ability to shift gears, be flexible during this important time. “That you put his needs above your own for now, that’s generous. A lot of people couldn’t.”
“You thought I was overdoing it a bit,” she reminded him.
“You are,” he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “But I think it will give you both peace of mind. You’re important to each other. I think you watch over each other. That’s all that matters.”
Maggie was working up a crush. She thought about Cal while she was falling asleep. She was probably a sucker for a soft, calm, confident voice and a steadying arm, she thought. In medical school one learns to worship calm confidence. Especially in surgery and particularly in specialties like hers where no doubt, no tremor, no hesitation could be tolerated. There were occasions she’d had to make a life-altering decision in under a minute. Maggie remembered times her knees had knocked but no one knew. She was decisive.
This was probably not what Jaycee had in mind when she suggested a break, and becoming a caretaker and full-time grocer was certainly not what Maggie had in mind. But Cal was a welcome distraction. Vacations, camping trips and campgrounds like this were ripe for romance and it was no different if you were the proprietor. There was something abo
ut the temporary quality, the way one was removed from real life for a time. Having spent many a weekend and vacation here with Sully during high school and college, Maggie had been vulnerable to that vacation dalliance a time or two. And it had been fun. When she was younger, the reality that the young man didn’t follow through, didn’t write or phone or email, stung. But that didn’t last. Now, she knew it for what it was.
The sexy Cal Jones, probably not even his real name, would be no different. Her common sense told her it shouldn’t be. He was lovely and wonderful the way he helped her dad, but he was just marking time and would be on to his next adventure soon. But her attraction to him was real. One of these evenings their twilight beer by the lake or on the porch would go a little further. She hoped.
She couldn’t help that. She hadn’t been in the arms of a loving man in a while, after all.
Sunday at the camp was active. People were trying to squeeze in the last of their weekend fun, then pack up their tents and campers. The store was busy—campers ran out of things to get through their last day: beer, soft drinks, snacks, sandwich fixings. Maggie was ringing up, bagging things, laughing with the customers, telling them she hoped they had a good time, looking forward to dusk when the activity would slow down. A lovely fourteen-year-old girl and her ten-year-old brother came in for eggs—they were staying one more night and then backpacking farther up the trail with their parents. They were beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed angels and the sweetest kids. Apparently their spring break had started and the family—mom and dad both teachers—loved hiking and camping and it was their dream to one day hike the whole CDT as a family.
“We’re getting up early tomorrow, eating breakfast and heading out,” Chelsea Smyth told Maggie. “We’ll probably get in a hundred miles during break.”
“I hope you’re planning to get into really good shape for the CDT,” Maggie said. “It’s a six-month commitment.”
“I think I could do it now,” Chelsea told her.
“So could I!” her brother, Remy, insisted.
“I hope when you do I’m here to cheer you on,” Maggie said, giving the girl her change. “Good luck tomorrow!”
“Maggie?”
She looked up into the beautiful blue eyes of the man next in line, eyes she knew so well. “Andrew. What are you doing here?”
“I took Mindy home a little early and hoped I could catch you. Rob Hollis told me you were here with your dad. You might’ve let me know.”
“Why? We’re fine. Better than fine,” she said, bagging up the eggs for the Smyth kids. “I hope you had a good time here, and have a safe hike,” she said. She waited for the kids to clear the door and then turned on Andrew. “Little busy here. You should have called.”
“Maggie, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, frowning.
“Bagging groceries, mostly.”
“No, what are you doing here? The rumor is you quit!”
“That’s not quite accurate. I decided to take some time off since the practice is closed and I’ve just been picking up hospital shifts here and there. Then Sully needed me, so it’s a good thing I have the time. I don’t have any patients counting on me.”
“When are you going back?” he asked.
“That’s really not your concern, now is it?” she said.
“You’ve lost your mind, is that it? You’re a surgeon. A gifted surgeon. You can’t stay here!”
“I don’t want to talk about it with you. You really should have called. I could’ve saved you a trip.”
“You’re ignoring my calls.”
“Well, there’s a reason for that. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“We’re not enemies, I hope. Come on, Maggie. Can we talk? Please? We have things to talk about.”
“This is a bad time,” she said.
Sully came from behind her, from the kitchen or storeroom. For seventy and in recovery from heart surgery, apparently his hearing was perfect. “Hello, Andrew,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
“Sully! Damn, it’s good to see you,” Andrew said, grabbing Sully’s hand and pumping it. “You look great! Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m doing fine. Not crazy about the new diet, but I’ll live.”
Andrew laughed. “You have really good color.”
“I was told I’d come out of it looking better than when I went in. I have freshly widened arteries to float my oxygen through. As a beauty treatment, I don’t recommend it.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Andrew said with a laugh. “What a relief to see you. Did Maggie say I called? Just to see how you were?”
“She might’ve mentioned it, thanks. But we’re doing fine.”
“Maggie, are you going back to Denver anytime soon?” Andrew asked.
“I haven’t made any plans.”
“Can you break away for a few minutes? I won’t keep you long.”
“Sure. Meet you out front in a few.”
She watched him walk away, leave the store as a couple of guys walked in. “I’ll get this, Sully,” she said.
“Nah, go deal with him. I’ll live through a checkout or two.”
“You’re sure?” she asked.
“Stop pampering me. I’m doing a damn sight better after heart surgery than he did after his knee surgery. You’d think he’d delivered a baby elephant or something. And don’t you dare use me as an excuse for not going back to work. Go on now. Get rid of him.”
That made Maggie laugh a little, though she was in no mood to laugh over Andrew. It was true, though—what a lot of complaining he’d done after a knee scope. It was his first experience on that side of the knife, poor baby. “I won’t be long,” she said.
“Be as long as you want,” he said. “Just make sure you don’t invite him to dinner.”
Oh, Sully wasn’t happy with Andrew, and he didn’t even know the half of what Andrew had put her through. It was so rare for Sully to get out of sorts with someone and Maggie hadn’t even explained all that went on between them. But then, Sully usually guessed right.
Andrew was leaning up against his car, texting or reading his email. He straightened when she walked out of the store and down the porch steps. He really was so good-looking. She remembered the first time he suggested dinner. She’d been so surprised—he wanted to date her? He was one of those classically handsome men—chiseled cheekbones and chin, tall with dark blond hair, striking blue eyes, enviable physique. And he was so nice. But he was an ER doc—they had to have certain gifts, had to know how to deal with frightened, hurting people, had to be swift and skilled. Andrew could put patients and their families at ease and get the job done quickly.
“Maggie,” he said. “You’re looking good.”
“Thank you. Listen, we don’t have anything to do here. You said you were done. Let’s go with that.”
“Come on, Maggie, that wasn’t exactly it,” he argued, reaching for her hand.
“No, that was exactly it. Before I came back here, before Sully’s heart attack, you said I was too depressed for you, that you couldn’t deal with it anymore. Of course my practice was shutting down, I was thinking about filing for bankruptcy, I was being sued by the family of a sixteen-year-old I lost on the table, and I was trying to stay ahead of the bills by picking up call for other doctors, mostly nights and weekends so I could give interviews and depositions all week. Oh—and did I mention, I’d just lost my baby? The baby I wanted but you didn’t. I’m so sorry I wasn’t more cheerful, but there you have it.” She shrugged. “Sorry, babe, that’s all I’ve got,” she said, mimicking him. “It turned out Sully needed me. That’s all I have to say, Andrew.”
“Look, I want us to be friends,” he said. “I want to lend support if I can...”
She laughed a little. “You want us to be friends?” she asked, agh
ast. “I’ve never been treated more cruelly by anyone in my life, Andrew. You asked me to abort a baby because it wasn’t convenient for you, then you bitched because I grieved. Andrew, hear this, please. I don’t want to be friends. I spent a couple of years as your friend. That meant taking vacation to look after you when you got a meniscus tear repaired, listening to your rants over your crazy ex-wife and hearing a million complaints about the working conditions in your ER. Being your friend appears to mean that I should be there for you, be perpetually happy no matter what’s going on. But, when I need you, you’re unavailable. That’s not good enough for me. Please just go.”
“Maggie,” he said in that calm, deep, lovely voice. “You’re crying.”
“Shit,” she said, wiping at her cheeks. “We’re done. It’s non-negotiable. I wouldn’t take you back if you begged me. I can’t be with a man as selfish as you.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “Would you have wanted me to lie? When you told me you were pregnant, I told you the truth. I have a daughter and a crazy ex-wife and no, I was not planning to have more children. It was one of the first issues we talked about when we started seeing each other. You said you understood completely.”
“I wasn’t pregnant then!”
“Be reasonable—it wasn’t planned,” he said.
“Just go!”
She turned and walked around to the back of the store and in the back door. She ducked into the bathroom beside the storeroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, she was crying. Again.
In medicine, everyone worships stoicism, thus her hiding in stairwells. She once sneaked into a bathroom and sobbed her brains out when she lost a young woman and her unborn child, even though saving them had been a long shot. GSW. Gunshot wound—so tragic. Then there was a mass shooting at a high school, several victims and they pulled them through, all of them, and it had almost the same effect on her—she cried until she was sick to her stomach. That was back when she was in Chicago doing her fellowship with Walter. The sheer violence and cruelty of a school shooting had nearly gutted her. By the time she was practicing, she’d figured out how to hide it, the overpowering emotion. But she hadn’t cried over a man since she was sixteen.