by Rula Sinara
Hope stepped carefully over a pile of snow that separated the sidewalk from the asphalt, opened the door and jumped into the front passenger seat.
“Ben? What are you— Oh, my gosh, what happened?”
She pulled off her gloves and reached out to examine his left upper cheek. Ben flinched at her touch, but then held still. He’d taken a beating and had a split lip and a good-size laceration and contusion on his cheek to show for it. She pressed gently to see if the cut on his cheek was deep enough to warrant stitches, all the time hyperaware that he was watching her.
“What in the world happened?”
“Just helping a friend.”
“Helping a— Are you crazy? You should know better than to get in a physical fight. If this is how you handle friends, please tell me I’m not one of them.”
The corner of his mouth curved up, but he winced and touched the cut on his lip, then held her hand, the warmth of his hand penetrating her skin, and gently pushed it toward her.
“For the record, I did not beat anyone up. I let Cooper have at it and then put him in an arm hold until he calmed down.”
“Cooper did this? Cooper, who has been sticking around to help Brie close up every night at Bentley’s? Ben, we have to warn her.”
“No, it’s not like that. He’d never hurt her. But there is something I think she should know about him. I’ll tell you on the way. First, I need your help.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dear Diary,
We had a substitute at school this week. Matthew Butthead raised his hand and told the class that I had a substitute mommy. I almost got mad, but then I didn’t, because Miss Hope is the best substitute mommy in the world. I want her to like me enough to stay.
HOPE DROPPED THE gauze she’d used to clean Ben’s wounds into the trash bin he’d pulled near the table. He was keeping his eyes closed, which she was thankful for. She was in medical mode, but Ben Corallis was not like any patient she’d ever treated, and standing so near to his chair, out of necessity, was distracting to no end.
She studied the lines of his face. Lines that told of grim battles and painful loss. Of fatherhood and frustration. Of yearning. The furrows between his brows relaxed as she ran her fingertips along his cheek…inspecting…caressing. She placed one hand against the soft prickle of his hair, the other gently along his jawline and turned his head slightly so she could dress his wound.
“Hold still, just like that,” she whispered, a habit she’d been teased about before. Anytime she was focused, her voice would become barely audible.
“Mmm-hmm,” he responded with the same hushed, intimate tone that drew her attention to his lips. His eyes remained closed as she cradled his face.
“I’ve seen movies where guys like you cut their own limbs off or stitch their own wounds. This is just a bandage.”
“I could cut off my arm if I had to,” he murmured. She smiled as she opened the tube of triple antibiotic and applied it to his cuts.
“Is that so? Then, why am I doing this?”
His lips curved, but he stayed still, eyes closed, and she had an unbearable urge to kiss each lid and make everything better.
“I’m pretty sure you insisted,” he said. “Besides, why would I treat myself if I have you?”
Hope held her lower lip between her teeth. If I have you.
“Of course I insisted. You came to me wounded.” She took a slow, deep breath, his clean scent washing through her, playing with her mind. He’d come to her wounded, but he had deeper wounds. Wounds she could never heal.
She needed to focus and not read into anything. She tugged the straps of a butterfly bandage across his cut, drawing it as closed as possible without stitches. Lucky for him, the wound wasn’t too deep. Not like the ones that didn’t show. He already had several old scars, from what she could see, and it appeared those wounds had never been sutured. As tough as he was, she had a hunch he hated needles. It was always the toughest-looking male patients who hated them.
“How did you know where I was?” she asked.
“I’d called to talk to you about Cooper and you didn’t pick up, so I called and checked Nina’s. She told me I might catch you at the post office. The bike gave you away. You promised you wouldn’t ride it on bad roads.”
“Mmm, I did. But I was careful and it wasn’t far. You’re a worrier.”
“Just protective.”
“Ah. Protective men, I know well. My big brother is quite protective.”
“I can’t blame him.”
They both stilled. Hope licked her lips and diverted her attention from his eyes that begged her to see through them, to the bandage she was smoothing much longer than necessary.
“What I mean is, that’s a big brother’s job. To chase off interested men and boyfriends,” Ben said. “Isn’t it?”
She picked up the tube of antibiotic ointment she’d used and began cleaning up the first-aid supplies.
Was he fishing? Or implying that he was an interested man?
“Yes, he chases off interested men he doesn’t approve of. Boyfriends, I wouldn’t know about.” She patted his shoulder. “I’m finished.”
He opened his eyes and she handed him the bin of supplies. He got up to return it to the cabinet over the fridge. Hope went to wash her hands and get a disinfecting wipe to clean off the table.
“You mean to tell me, you’ve never in your twen—”
“Twenty-five,” she filled in. He had to be fishing.
“—twenty-five years had a boyfriend?”
Hope pressed her lips together and splayed her hands.
“None. There is one friend my brother doesn’t bother chasing off. We grew up with him, and he thinks someday I’ll come around. Honestly, I’ve never had time. I live with my parents, which, yes, I know, might seem strange, especially for someone my age with my work, but it’s not that unusual over there. They’ve always been protective and wanted what’s best for me. My life has always been about education and career. Not socializing. My coming here was a huge step for them. If my brother didn’t know and trust Jack and his family, I wouldn’t be here.”
Ben pushed the chair back in its place at the table, but kept his hands on its back.
“Wow,” he said, apparently absorbing the full meaning of what she was saying. He frowned and angled his head to look at her.
Hope’s cheeks burned. She’d just given him way too much information. Whatever boundary had existed between them, she couldn’t find it anymore. Friendship… Caring… Had they erased the line? Were they friends? She went to the freezer, opened the door and found what she expected on the bottom shelf. She wrapped it in a paper towel and handed it to him, no explanation needed.
“In fact, you came up.”
“I came up?” he said, letting go of the chair and holding onto the ice pack.
Hope nodded and followed him to the living room. He eased into his recliner.
“As I recall, Jack assured my brother that if you found out that anyone was bothering me, you’d make them wish they never existed,” she said, curling up on the end of the couch nearest the chair.
“Is that so? Has anyone bothered you?”
“No one has bothered me, Ben. I’m just emphasizing how much my family worries. I may not be a parent, but I worry about those I care about, too. And I also know there’s never a guarantee that they’ll always be okay or that I could have made a difference.”
“Is that why you want to be a doctor?” Ben asked. Either he wanted to ignore what she was trying to get through to him, or he missed it altogether.
“Why not? I come from a family of them. It was a given. Does it surprise you because I’m a woman?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve answered to women who outranked me…and who were arguably scarier,” he said, cocking the corner of his mouth, then cringing. He reached up reflexively and touched his bruised lip. “Just wondering.”
Hope scratched at her knee and realized she was sitting in the same spot
she had the very first night she’d been brought here. The first night she’d met Ben. She looked down at her hands. Hands that had been doing more diaper changes than signing prescriptions. Why did she want to be a doctor? If her internship had eaten her up so severely that it drove her across the world to escape it and heal physically, mentally and emotionally, then perhaps it wasn’t what she was really meant to do with her life. Being proud of her accomplishments and having others take pride in her felt good. It made her feel valued. But for some reason, it wasn’t bringing her complete and utter joy. She lowered her face, thinking of all the people she couldn’t help. The impossible system and rural poverty. The children who suffered or lost their lives because of it.
“That tough a question, huh?” Ben asked, startling her. Had she been contemplating it that long?
“No, it’s not. It’s just…” She propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and pressed her knuckles against her lips, staring at the stone coasters on the coffee table. “It’s just that my being a doctor was always the plan.” She lifted her face and rubbed the smooth lapis teardrop that dangled from her ear.
“Ben, I was born with a ventricular septal defect. A hole in my heart.”
He frowned and put his cold compress onto the table and leaned forward. “Catheter procedures were barely cutting-edge back then, but my hole was too big. It required open heart surgery. My parents, being doctors, knew the risks going in…all the possible complications. But it doesn’t matter who you are. When your child is suffering or in danger, when your infant ends up with complications after surgery like I did, you’re just a parent worrying desperately for your child. I was their priority back then. Not their careers. Simba probably felt quite neglected.” Hope smiled, knowing that whether her brother did or didn’t back then, he cared about her now.
“They put everything on hold for me. All their colleagues went out of their way to give their baby, me, the best care and chance at life. If my parents hadn’t been who they are, I might have not gotten the treatment I needed. I’m in medicine because it’s how I can give back to all of them. Repay their sacrifices. They gave me life, so I listened when they gave me a direction for it. Helping them grow their orthopedic practice is the least I can do.”
“Are you okay now? The surgery. Are you still at risk?”
“I’m fine, Ben. I’ve always taken antibiotics when having things like dental work done, just as a precaution, but I’m okay. I’m fixed.”
“So you’re doing this for your parents. Not for you.”
Hope uncurled her legs and hugged her waist.
“Why would you say that?”
“You just did. It’s what I heard.” He leaned an inch closer. “If I asked you if you were so madly in love with and fascinated by bones that looking at an X-ray made your pulse race and palms sweat, would your answer be an exquisitely over-the-top, passionate yes?”
Were they still talking medicine? Hope glanced at his mouth, and her pulse raced and palms got damp. The thought of X-rays had no part in it.
“What’s your point?”
“Does there need to be one? Sometimes it’s just about what you’re feeling. Why not study the heart? Or work with children? Try to give other kids like you were a better chance?”
She needed to stop trying to decipher every word he said, every double meaning. She was reading into things again. She nibbled at her lower lip and saw his eyes track the movement. She stopped and pushed her hair back.
“I didn’t know how much I loved children until I came here. But loving them doesn’t mean I want to witness their suffering day in and day out. I’ve seen children die from lack of access to care. I’ve also seen them die from tragedies. Horrific accidents. Adults, too. I don’t know how much of that I can take seeing.
“I was at the hospital when the Westgate Mall attack in Nairobi happened. I’m sure you recall the attack from the news. Thirty minutes and I would have been done with patients and at that very mall with my friend. We’d planned to meet there. Instead, I never left the hospital because they needed everyone, whether we were still medical students or not.”
“Westgate Mall? Oh, man.” Ben ran his hand back over his head and shifted in his seat. “I’ve seen the footage from that shooting. Unspeakable. I’m so sorry you had to witness any of that firsthand.”
She pressed her lips together and gave a small shrug. “Deal with what’s dealt, help the helpless and give laughter to the living. That’s what I always tell myself. It’s also why I want to finish my internship and keep on track for ortho and working with my parents. More fixing and less death.”
“Have you ever thought of practicing elsewhere? Like here in America?”
“Honestly? It never crossed my mind. I suppose I could do it if I wanted to, but it would take a lot of time. Kenya’s medical education is different. We start medical school right out of high school and go six years before beginning internships, and still more years to get our masters or doctorates if we pursue them. I’d have to pass boards here before applying for residency. It’s not easy to get in, but with enough persistence and motivation…”
Would she want to do that? As it was, she was struggling to motivate herself to get through her internship in Kenya.
“You came here to get away,” Ben said. “That tells me something was wrong, Hope. What do you really want to be doing?”
Hope covered her face and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sighed and leaned back. “I’m not sure. I understand and appreciate all I’ve been given, including the structure and direction. A kid needs that. That sense of security and knowing boundaries and having guidance. But I think, as a parent, it’s tough to know how much of it to give and when to pull back. I don’t blame them. It’s partly me. I’ve never had the courage or confidence to speak up and tell them how I feel, but maybe I’ve held back because I don’t know what I want. I’ve been told for so long, I’m not sure anymore how much of what I’m doing and putting into a medical career is me, or how much is them.”
Hope pressed her fingertips against her eyelids. She’d said it. She’d finally admitted it to someone. To Ben. He put his hand on her knee and she uncovered her face.
“Technically,” he said, “you could do anything you want to. You know that, don’t you? You’re your own person, Hope.”
She reached out and let her hand touch his. “I know that, but I’m still not sure what I want.”
“Like I said, ask yourself what is it you love, and be honest with yourself about it.”
Was it a question of what or who? Ben looked straight at her, sincere and concerned, and she could not take her eyes off his for the life of her. What if she was falling in love with him? Was this what she was feeling? Falling for a widower and father of three who lived as far away from her life as possible? Was she ready to even consider uprooting herself, leaving the only country she’d ever called home, deserting the career she’d invested years in already? Was she ready to leave her family and become an instant mother?
She was insane to even think about it. And she had no idea if Ben even thought of her that way. An attraction and flirting was a far cry from the scenarios she was imagining. The man had lost the woman he loved and would probably never love anyone that way again. She needed to be practical and stick to reality. Like the fact that she’d be returning home.
“You have choices, Hope,” he went on, “whether you realize it or not. I have no choice except being here. I’m trying to make it work, but I have to be able to support my kids. My career, my life, has always been out there, serving. If things don’t work out here workwise, then I’ll return to duty and leave the kids with their grandparents. So choose while you can…before things in life take away those options.”
His watch timer beeped. The bus.
“I’ll go outside to meet her,” Hope said, standing abruptly. “You don’t want her to see your face like that before you can come up with an appropriate explanation.”
Hope hurried to the
door, shocked at what he’d just said. He’d leave his children and return to duty? He’d let them suffer more loss? She put her hat on and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Ben held his side as he unfolded his legs to get up.
“If your body is starting to hurt, you should go ahead and take something for it.”
“I can handle it. High tolerance and all that.”
Stubbornness and all that. Hope put her hand on the knob.
“You know, Ben, if you’re willing to leave Maddie and the boys and go back to duty, if given a choice, then maybe high tolerance for pain is your problem.”
*
BEN DROVE IN SILENCE.
Maddie kept looking at him through the rearview mirror. They’d left the house as soon as her bus arrived because he wanted to pick up the boys. He’d simply told her that he’d had an accident but was all right. He’d been told by the recent therapist that using the word accident was okay, especially if it was done in a way that would desensitize them to the word and show the kids that not all accidents caused death.
Hope hadn’t looked at him at all since they’d gotten in the car. He wasn’t sure what had happened. It felt good having her around. She changed the energy in his house. And something about her, the touch of her hands on his face, had changed the energy in him, too. She calmed him, drew him out of his head and into the present. He hadn’t wanted it or expected it. He wasn’t sure if it was right. All he knew was that everything and everyone—him, his kids, even Nina and Eric—did better when she was around.
And then one comment about returning to duty, and she flipped. Just like Zoe would have, if he’d had the chance to tell her that he intended to…because three kids meant he needed an income and benefits he could count on.
He glanced over and saw Hope reach into her tote and pull out one of those silver bracelets she’d taken off before mending his face. She reached back and handed it to Maddie. He looked in the mirror at his daughter’s reaction. You’d have thought she’d been handed a block of gold, or a quadruple-scoop ice cream cone…or a litter of kittens.