by Harry Kraus
“Hello.”
“Lena, this is Dr. McCall. Lucy told me you had some spotting?”
“Yes. It started yesterday.”
“Yesterday? Why didn’t you call?”
“It’s a long story. I was kind of tied up until the library closed.”
Claire let it go. “Are you having pain? Cramps?”
“Some.”
“You need to get some help. You could be having a miscarriage.”
“I know,” she said without expression. “Maybe it’s an answer to prayer.”
Claire shook her head. Lena needed a lesson in theology that Claire didn’t have time to teach. “Do you know your blood type?”
“No.”
“Did you ever give blood? Have a blood donor card?”
“I’m not bleeding that much. I don’t need blood, Dr. McCall.”
“I know that. But if you are having a miscarriage, the baby’s blood and your blood have a chance of mixing together. If your blood type is Rh negative and your baby is Rh positive, you will make antibodies that could attack the blood of any future child you carry.”
“Antibodies?”
Claire knew she was losing her. “Listen, it’s important for you to get your blood drawn so we can figure out what type you are. If you are Rh negative, you’ll need to get a shot.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Cathy Rivera can take you to the outpatient lab at the university hospital. I can call ahead and ask them to do the test.”
“I guess.”
“Let me know if things get worse. Can you put Cathy back on?”
Claire gave Cathy the instructions and put down the phone. Then she scrawled a handwritten entry into the chart documenting Lena’s complaints and her intervention. When she lifted her head, her nurse was standing to her left, leaning over the desk. She didn’t look happy. She opened her fingers and allowed the paper in her hand to float to the desktop. It was the day’s appointments. “Mabel Henderson is on the phone. Her foot is worse and she’s having chills.”
Claire studied the schedule. There wasn’t an opening all afternoon. “We have to see her. Just tell her to come over and we’ll work her in.”
Lucy shook her head. “You’re an hour and a half behind. We’ve already added two walk-ins with the flu. If you tell Mabel to come in, she’ll spend two hours sitting in that waiting room with her foot down. It will swell like a balloon before you see her.”
Claire sighed. She knew her nurse was right. “But if she sits in the waiting room with her smelly foot for two hours, maybe the odor will smoke some of the other patients away and lighten the load for the afternoon.”
Lucy snickered. “It won’t work,” she said, walking her fingers over the schedule, naming each patient’s diagnosis. “Sinusitis, flu, flu, follow-up nose-bleed, Daisy Biller. She’s ninety-four. I don’t think any of these patients can smell.”
“Mabel really needs to go up to Carlisle to see a surgeon.”
“You know she won’t do that. At least not until she’s on death’s door.”
Claire nodded. “Tell her I’ll stop by her house on my way home.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Who else will make Mabel do what’s right?”
The nurse took Claire by the hand. “When Dr. Jenkins quit, I thought we’d never find a young doctor with the same compassion. Everyone we talked to seemed more concerned about big salary and short hours.” Her eyes locked on Claire’s. Lucy’s eyes were suddenly moist. This woman could be strong one minute, and melting the next. “I was wrong.”
Claire felt her own throat tighten. What else could she do for patients?
Going the second mile was instinct to her. “Thanks.”
“I’ll tell her you’ll be by.” When she reached the doorway, she paused. “Oh. I got a call from Stephanie Blackwell’s mother. Her husband is getting a kidney transplant this afternoon.”
“Stephanie’s a match?”
Lucy nodded.
“Boy, they didn’t waste any time.”
“Nope.”
Lucy disappeared down the hall leaving Claire alone with her thoughts. Polycystic kidney disease, OCD, the flu, first trimester bleeding, diabetic foot infections, splinters, earaches, football physicals, gallstones, kidney stones, hypertension, backaches, headaches, and shingles. The mundane and the life-threatening side by side in a list as varied as her patients themselves. She was just as likely to see someone with an imagined illness as she was a myocardial infarction. The list of things she needed to know about as a general practicioner was staggering, and the dilemma was in sorting out the common from the serious. Momentarily, she dropped her head in her hands to pray. Frontline medicine wasn’t for the faint of heart. She needed to know something about everything, and right now, she felt a bit overwhelmed. She whispered a prayer for wisdom and for thanks, then picked up her stethoscope in anticipation of the afternoon load.
John finished business in Richmond by ten, and put the top down for a summer’s morning drive back to Stoney Creek. He took the Gordonsville exit off I–64 and cut over to Route 33 to take the scenic route over the Blue Ridge mountains. Summer rhododendron and honeysuckle were in bloom. The sky was clear, and the temperature had cooled to the high seventies. This was heaven on earth to John on any other day. But today, his thoughts were fixed on another matter. The beautiful mountain scenery passed without appreciation. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles as he thought about his encounter with the county deputy the day before.
Perhaps he should just confess the whole mess to Claire and be over with it. He wrinkled his forehead, squinting into the afternoon sun. That didn’t seem to be a good idea. If he told her about the deputy, he’d end up having to tell her about the night out at Lena’s place and then the ring, and then he’d have to tell her everything, and that would never do.
But things had a way of snowballing on him. One problem seemed to be leading to another, and that one to another. Claire couldn’t or wouldn’t follow through with her genetic testing, so John’s engagement plans crashed, and he let his remorse and impulsive behavior get the best of him when he tossed the ring out of his car. Now, it seemed, the law was suspicious of him, and that’s what scared him even more.
He’d moved to Stoney Creek to be near Claire, anticipating a short engagement and a happy life together. But nothing seemed to be working the way he planned. Claire worked constantly, not as much as during her internship, but enough to occupy her so that even when he did spend time with her away from her office, he could tell she was mulling over decisions she’d made.
By four, he pulled in to Wally and Della’s place, hoping to see Claire’s blue VW. It was wishful thinking. Fridays were the worst for overrunning the closing time at the office. Every mother in the Apple Valley seemed to think about the horror of facing the weekend with a fussy child at four P.M., and in they’d come to Claire’s clinic, hoping to be worked in at the last minute. He sat and talked with Della for an hour, before he finally insisted that she let him watch Wally while she did errands in Carlisle.
It scared him how much he enjoyed talking with Della. With her, there was no pressure to make the relationship work. She was confident, pretty, and had a great sense of humor. Of course, Claire was all of those things as well, but his relationship with Claire had seemed like such a strain lately that relating to Della was a relief.
He walked down the hall to pour out his heart to the Wall-man. One good thing about Wally was you could trust him never to tell a secret. Wally hardly ever said anything. “Hi, Wally.”
Wally’s head and limbs flailed. “John.”
“Della went to Carlisle. Need anything? Something to drink?”
John mixed thick-it into a glass of juice and let Wally drink. Then John sat in the chair and talked about Claire. “It’s frustrating, Wally. She’s so fixated on her risk of HD that she can’t enjoy today. She’s running away, sticking her head in the sand. She enjoys be
ing busy so she can’t have time to deal with thinking about the future. And until she comes to grips with that, I’m not sure we can have a future together.”
John leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “It’s like she’s made HD an idol.” He thought for a moment. “She thinks HD will have the ability to control her life and she’s afraid of what that might mean.”
Wally grunted and flung his legs across the sheets. His eyes were open but glassed over. He wasn’t with John, but that didn’t stop John from working out his thoughts aloud. He stood up and started to pace around the little room, wildly gesticulating with his hands like a true Italian.
“I read something about fear once, how it’s a lot like faith except with a different object of focus. With faith, your confidence is in God, acknowledging that he has ultimate control of your situation. With fear, you’ve put something else on the throne of your life, giving the control that’s supposed to be God’s over to something else. If you fear man, you are placing him in the position that only God is to be in. You’re fearing that man has the ultimate control over your situation. Whatever you fear has taken a position that God is supposed to have, and in a way it’s become an idol in your life. It’s idolatry. And for Claire, that’s HD.” He slammed his fist in his hand. Maybe he’d missed his calling. He had the passion to lead a crusade.
“Cl–Cl–Claire!” Wally’s eyes were wild but fixed on the doorway behind John. It always amazed John how Wally could keep his eyes on one place even though his head was in motion.
“Are you quite finished?” He recognized the feminine voice instantly. Busted!
He whirled around. “Claire!”
She offered a saccharine smile. “In the flesh.”
He winced. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Too long,” she said, turning on her heels. She walked away muttering, “I’m so glad you have me all figured out.”
He followed her down the hall. “Claire, it’s not like that. I was just venting my feelings to Wally.”
Claire backed away as John advanced, his arms open for a hug. “Wait a minute, Cerelli. Give me a chance to process what you said.”
He stopped and watched as Claire folded her hands across her chest and quietly repeated what she’d heard John say. With each new phrase, she nodded her head from side to side. “What you fear has in effect taken the place God is supposed to have in your life. Trust means you believe God is in control. Fear means you are not trusting that God has ultimate control of your future. What you fear has taken God’s place.” She nodded and plopped down on the couch. “You’re right. My fear of HD is idolatry.”
John felt his jaw slacken. “You agree?”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Is that supposed to be a special revelation?”
“Well, no, it’s—” He halted. “I just didn’t think you’d admit it.”
“If you’re going to define idolatry that way, I guess it’s true. But it doesn’t have anything to do with my decision not to get my test results.” She caught his eyes and held them with hers. “I’m just making a decision that I can trust without knowing the future.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think you’re just avoiding the result because of fear?”
She took a deep breath and looked away. She never looked him in the eye when she wasn’t sure. “No.”
My ever-confident Claire, not always right, but never in doubt. He let it drop. He didn’t believe it, but it wasn’t worth pushing her. “Hungry?”
“Starved. I worked through lunch to catch back up.” She looked back toward the kitchen. “Where’s Mom?”
He sat beside her. “Carlisle. She needed to shop.”
She touched his dark curls and smiled. “So we’re alone.”
His pulse quickened as Claire pushed her face into his neck and ran her hand into his hair. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he felt her breath in his ear.
“I thought you said you were hungry.”
She teased his earlobe, pinching it in her lips. “I am.”
His resolve began to melt. He turned to meet her mouth with his and cradled her head in his arms. Their kisses were soft, her mouth open and receptive. They were quickly heading down a path they had decided was off limits because of their past together.
After a passionate kiss, Claire put her hand on his forehead.
He felt her hand pressing with more firmness until his neck yielded and he allowed his face to be pushed away.
“Easy, Cerelli.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I’m kissing you.”
“You know what I mean.”
She captured his eyes, unflinching. “I know.” Her eyes closed and she shifted to her side on the couch, her head resting on his lap.
“What are you doing?” He stroked her cheek. “You’re just going to rev my engines and then slam the brakes?”
She opened one eye, then closed it when she saw him watching her. “I’m tired. I just want to rest for a moment. Then we can find something for dinner.”
He sighed. He knew he needed to be a strong leader, but sometimes he didn’t want to be. Sometimes all he wanted was to wisk Claire off to a romantic rendezvous and fulfill all his pent-up fantasies. But he knew she was right to put on the brakes. There would be a time for their passion’s expression . . . if only he could make Claire believe that he really loved her, that he would commit to loving her regardless of what their future held. And until she faced her future head-on, he knew she wouldn’t be ready to trust the love he had in his heart for her.
If she sensed his unspoken frustration, she didn’t show it. Instead, she began to vent about her own pressures. “When I was at the university, I let the arrogance of the ivory tower convince me that the LMD was a second-class citizen.”
“LMD?”
“Local medical doctor. My attendings would throw around the term like they were a bunch of rejects that couldn’t handle the rigors of university medical practice.”
“You’ve changed your mind?”
“John, I’m an LMD now. I see it completely differently. The LMD is where the rubber meets the road, where practicality needs to mix with proven science. Where cost concerns meet high technology.”
“Not as easy as you thought?”
“Having to know something about everything can be overwhelming.”
“Can’t you just refer the problems you don’t understand to a specialist?”
“I wish it was that easy. Even if I wanted to send away a problem I didn’t understand, people in Stoney Creek are reluctant to go.”
Claire reached over to the top of the coffee table in front of the couch where Della had placed the day’s mail. John watched her face as she flipped through the letters. She frowned. “I hadn’t thought about my school loans when I came back to Stoney Creek. They were all deferred as long as I was in training. Now that I’m working, my payback has started.” She ripped open the top of a business letter and sighed. “Look at this. Even if I pay back a thousand dollars a month, it’s going to take me forever to pay this back.”
John lifted the statement from her hand and looked at the principal remaining on her loan. It was a few dollars shy of one hundred twenty thousand. Marrying Claire wasn’t exactly a ticket to a life of riches and ease.
“I might not be able to practice long enough to pay this back.”
He refolded the statement and shoved it back in the envelope. “Things will work out. You could always accelerate your payments. Plenty of people in Stoney Creek live off half your income. You could pay this off in a few years.”
“Not if my dad needs full-time nursing care. Even with my grandma’s help, funds are bound to get tight.”
He shook his head.
“It’s not fair, John. If I could have only known about HD before I made my career choices—”
“Oh, like you would have run off to be tested while you were still in college?”
Her expression steeled. “Yes.”
She hesitated. “Better to find out whether you have the HD gene before you spend half your life training to do something you may only be able to do for a few years.”
He didn’t really feel like arguing through this again. Why couldn’t they just cuddle on the couch like normal couples?
When he didn’t respond, she continued. “It’s almost like God kept HD hidden away from me, set me up to make choices I would have never made if only I’d known.”
“You mean to tell me you wouldn’t have gone into medicine if you’d known your father had Huntington’s disease?”
“I didn’t say that. But I would have been tested. If I’m carrying the gene, I’d be a fool to go into medicine.”
“But you love this stuff! I’ve seen your eyes light up when you tell me about the things you treat, the people you’ve helped. So what if you only have a few years at it?”
She closed her eyes, apparently to squeeze back the tears. He touched her forehead and stroked her blond bangs. She used to seem like such a rock, confident and steady, always focused on her goals. Now, she vacillated, confident and excited about life one moment, on the verge of tears the next. “So go get your test results, Claire. Find out so you can know for sure. Then we can plan our future together. If you’d have gotten tested before starting your education, why not now?”
“The stakes are higher now,” she said, her voice weakening. Her eyelids were tightly pinched, but he could see the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. “You wouldn’t love me if you knew I’d be like Daddy.”
The accusation stung. It infuriated him to hear her lack of trust. He strained to keep his volume in a normal range. “That’s not fair. You don’t know that—”
She sat up, pulling her head from his embrace. “And you can’t predict your reaction to something so horrible,” she interrupted.
They stared at each other a moment, locked in silent hurt and accusation. John broke away and shook his head. This is what loving Claire McCall had become. Hold-onto-your-seat fast. Mind-numbing. Intimate one minute, confrontational the next. Intensity with a capital “I.”