A DOCTOR'S VOW

by Christine Rimmer

  "Fair." He growled the word. "Life is not fair."

  "I know, but—"

  "Look. You have some better plan?"

  "I…"

  "Do you have some better plan?"

  She stared at him. He was so angry. All the pressure he'd been under in recent weeks was breaking out now.

  He repeated for the third time, "Do you have a better plan?"

  "I… Lily's a good woman, at heart."

  "I never said she wasn't."

  "And she and I could find … a common ground. I know we could. Eventually. She's just … having a hard time accepting me. Accepting what I represent. In a way, my coming into your lives is like … Patricia dying all over again. To Lily, it must seem as if I'm moving in on her daughter's territory, trying to replace her."

  "Patricia is dead. It's a fact."

  "And Lily needs more time to deal with that fact."

  He stood then. "Say it. Whatever it is, just get it out of your mouth."

  "Would you … would you just sit down? Please?"

  He ignored her request. "You're backing out on me, aren't you?"

  She started to say Oh, Ryan but bit it back just in time.

  "Answer me. Are you going to marry me or not?"

  "Yes."

  He stared at her unbelievingly. "Yes … but what?"

  "Yes, but I'm thinking that maybe we should give Lily what she wants. For a while…"

  He spoke way too quietly. "I don't like this."

  "You think I do?"

  "Then don't do it."

  "Listen to me. My condo is finished."

  His eyes were as cold as his tone now. "So? Sell it."

  "I will. In a while. But right now, I think it would be a good idea if I … moved in there. Just for a short time. This really has all happened so fast, between us. And we have to think of the whole picture. We have to give Lily, and ourselves, a little space to—"

  "Wait a minute. Do you want to move in there? Do you want to get away from me?"

  "No. That's not it. That's not it at all."

  "Then forget it."

  "Ryan…"

  He braced his hands on the table and brought his face down to her level. "No. I don't need any space. I'm tired of coming through that bedroom door after dark, of getting up in the middle of the night to go back to that big, empty room alone. I want you with me, where you belong. And I want you to marry me, right away."

  Her heart felt so full, it hurt to hear him say that. But the truth would not be denied. "And then Lily will leave us, abruptly. In anger and hurt. The children will suffer. Do you want that, too?"

  "Of course not. I never said it was an ideal situation. But if you move out, then we're the ones who suffer."

  "Yes. And we're also the ones who want to change everything."

  He sank to the chair again, ran his left hand down his face. "God. This is one hell of a mess."

  She leaned forward. "Ryan. Please believe me. I love you with all of my heart. And I know … that too many people have left you. But you are strong. And I'm strong. And sometimes, it's the strong ones who have to make a few sacrifices. This isn't forever. I swear to you. It will only be long enough for Lily to see what will happen if she gets what she thinks she wants."

  He looked at her piercingly. "And what do you think she's going to see?"

  "That I'm not the enemy. That her daughter really is gone. That … life has to go on."

  "And your moving out is going to make her see that?"

  "It's a good possibility. I really think it is. I think by giving her no choice, we are forcing her out. Discounting her, and all that she's done for you, for your children. I just don't think that's right."

  He laid his hand on the table, looked down at it, then shot a telling glance up at her. "But if you're coming back, anyway, it's a false choice. Isn't it?"

  She did not let her gaze waver. "No. It's … giving her time. And believe me, after she's thought about it for a while, she will know that's a gift, from people like us. A gift she's been giving you and the children for over two years now. Her time. All the time. To love and to nurture, to cook and to clean. To simply be there, when you couldn't. Don't you see how important that is? In some ways, what she's given is the most important thing in the world. The thing you didn't have as a child. The thing I didn't have. The thing I really don't want the children to lose if we can possibly help it."

  He said warily, "She could choose to leave, anyway. She has money of her own. She used to sell real estate and she did pretty well at it. Then, when she decided to move in with us, she and I had a long talk. I pay her well. Not as much as she's worth, maybe. I realize I could never pay her that much. But enough that's she's able to save quite a bit. She could end up accepting you—and still wanting to leave."

  Ronni's stomach roiled. She swallowed, breathed deeply, then spoke with all the conviction she could muster. "Yes. She could still leave. But if she accepted me first, we could make a smooth transition. Together. We could make it a good change. Instead of an ugly, painful one."

  He didn't speak for a long time. Ronni spent the endless seconds breathing deeply, slowly, in and then out, mentally telling herself that she was not going to throw up.

  Finally, when the silence had stretched out so long she wondered if he ever would speak, he said, "There's something else, isn't there?"

  Her heart bounced into her throat—a physical impossibility, she knew that. Still, she could feel it there, beating hard and loud.

  "I can see it in your eyes, Ronni. There's something else going on here. Something you're keeping from me. I want to know what it is."

  She gulped. Her stomach churned. "I…"

  "You are having doubts, aren't you? About us. About marrying a man with a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, three kids—and shaky prospects for child care."

  Her heart was lodged there, in her throat, cutting off her ability to speak or to breathe. And her stomach… Oh, Lord…

  "Tell me the truth, Ronni." His eyes burned into hers.

  And she couldn't hold it, couldn't keep it down.

  She shot to her feet. "I … excuse me…"

  He gaped at her. "Ronni?"

  She turned and ran—down the short hall to the bathroom right next to the bedroom. She threw back the toilet seat and got over the bowl just in time.

  There wasn't much left to come up. But what was there, she lost.

  She dropped to her knees and let it happen.

  In the middle of it, Ryan knelt beside her. He put his hand on her back. She moaned and heaved some more. Gently, he gathered her hair, held it out of the way for her.

  When it was over, he wrapped his arms around her and rocked her. "Hey," he whispered. "Hey…"

  She let herself lean against him, felt his warmth and his strength, listened to the lovely, even beating of his heart. Then she sighed, pushed him away a little.

  He got up, wet a washcloth, bent down again and tenderly wiped her flushed, hot face. Her mouth tasted vile. She grimaced.

  "Toothbrush, huh?"

  She nodded. He stood. She pulled herself to her feet as he got her toothbrush from its holder, found the toothpaste and squeezed a line of it over the bristles. He handed it to her and stood back enough that she had the sink to herself.

  She brushed. When she was done, he led her to the bedroom. She followed behind him obediently, too drained to do anything but go where he led her.

  "Lie down."

  She stretched out on the bed. He took her shoes off and then his own.

  He lay down beside her, tenderly pulling her to him, so her head rested on his shoulder. "So that's it—what you weren't telling me?"

  "Yes," she admitted in a tiny voice.

  "Is every thing … all right?"

  "All right?"

  "Should you be throwing up like that? It's only been, what…?"

  "A little over two weeks. And yes, morning sickness is normal, from about the second week on. Plus, there are some arguments tha
t stress exacerbates it."

  "Stress." He seemed to consider the concept, then she felt his nod against the top of her head. "Plenty of that lately. You … took a test, then?"

  "This morning. It was positive."

  His arm banded a little tighter around her. "When were you going to tell me?"

  "I've been arguing with myself, whether to wait a little while … or to tell you right away."

  "But your stomach decided for you."

  "That's about the size of it." She lifted up, looked at him. "I … oh, I didn't want to do this to you."

  He traced her jawline with a forefinger, so lightly. Still, the touch warmed her all the way to her toes. "The way I remember it, we did it to each other."

  "I'm going to go through with it, to be a mother…"

  "Did I say I didn't want that?"

  "No. And I knew you wouldn't. I know how you are. But I … wanted to say my intention out loud. And clear."

  "I get the message."

  "I love you." She surged up a little, brushed her lips against his, then settled her head back on his chest.

  He wrapped both arms around her. She felt the touch of his lips in her hair. Right then, she realized she felt better than she had in days. It was good to have the truth out, not to feel as if she lied to him every time she looked at him.

  She felt certain at that moment that they would get through this. They would work it all out with Lily. Somehow. She was sure of it…

  He chuckled. "I guess you'll have to marry me now."

  She was actually relaxed enough to tease him a little. "Have to? This is the twenty-first century, in case you didn't notice. Women don't have to get married anymore."

  "You do. And we are. Right away."

  She lay very still. "Ryan. Didn't you understand anything I told you in the kitchen?"

  "I did understand. I just don't agree with it. And this changes everything."

  "It changes nothing."

  "How can you say that? We love each other. You're having my baby. And we're getting married."

  "Eventually."

  She could feel the tension gathering in him again, even through their clothes, muscle and sinew going hard with resistance.

  He said, "You're not moving out." It was an order.

  "I am. Oh, please. Trust me. I want to give this a chance … give Lily a chance."

  "I'm against it."

  "I'm sorry. I love you. And I'm doing it."

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  « ^ »

  The next day, Ronni made arrangements to have her furniture taken out of storage and delivered to the condo. That same afternoon, she sent home the three-year-old who had fallen down the stairs.

  She was also able to tell the parents of another patient, one who had been seriously ill, that after three and half weeks in the hospital, their daughter would be released the next day.

  It was a good moment, the kind a doctor treasures. The parents looked at her with gratitude, relief—even joy. And Ronni felt the same emotions herself, as if she had guided them all through the minefield of a serious illness, and somehow, here they were on the other side, with the patient intact, almost ready to resume a normal life again.

  She didn't realize it then, but that was the best thing that would happen all week.

  After she finished at Children's Hospital, Ronni went to the condo and worked until past nine, putting away kitchen things and moving what pieces of furniture she could move without help. She was back at the guest house by nine-thirty, wanting to be there for Ryan when he arrived.

  But by eleven, he hadn't shown up.

  He was angry with her.

  She felt terrible about that.

  Still, she honestly believed the temporary move was the right thing to do. Their love was strong. A disagreement, and his ensuing anger, wouldn't kill it.

  She went to bed and actually fell asleep sometime after eleven-thirty. She woke at twelve, when he slipped under the covers with her.

  He pulled her close. She snuggled against him. "Ryan, please don't be angry with me."

  Instead of answering, he kissed her. She kissed him back. For a while, she forgot everything—the problem with Lily, their disagreement over the solution she'd devised. She lost herself completely in the touch of his hands and the glorious feel of his body against hers.

  The next day she called a handyman Marty had recommended. He met her at the condo at seven and helped her to move the heavier pieces of furniture where she wanted them. Then, for two more hours, she continued putting things away. She made it back to the guest house at ten.

  Ryan came to her late again. They made slow, tender love.

  Afterward, she told him she would make the move that Sunday.

  All he said was "I guess you'll do what you think you have to do."

  The nights that followed were much the same. She went to the condo, unpacked until nine or so. And Ryan came to her late at night.

  They made love. But they hardly spoke. She tried more than once to reassure him that she truly wasn't deserting him, that the separation wouldn't last that long, that she really did think it was the right thing to do.

  He would let her talk, but that was all. And then he'd change the subject.

  Friday night, she suggested gently that they ought to discuss the best way to tell Lily and the children about her move.

  He said, "There's nothing to discuss. You're leaving. You tell them."

  "Ryan, I am doing this for all of us."

  "Are you?"

  Right then, she wanted to give in. To throw up her hands and cry "All right. Have it your way. We'll get married. Lily will walk out. And you can stay home with the children until you find someone trustworthy to take care of them!"

  But she held her tongue. She knew she was doing the right thing. And if Ryan wouldn't help her, she would handle it on her own.

  Saturday, Drew raised fifty-five dollars and eleven cents during their stint at the supermarket.

  On the drive home, as he babbled away about how much they'd earned so far, Ronni considered the best way to tell him of her plans.

  She almost began explaining right then.

  But no. She really felt she ought to tell Lily first, then the children.

  When they got to the house, they found Lily on the service porch, loading up the washing machine. Ronni waited until Drew had finished regaling his grandmother with the details of their afternoon's work. When he went upstairs, Ronni stayed behind, watching as Lily measured detergent and poured it over the clothes.

  Lily shut the lid, turned the dials. There was the gushing sound of water pouring into the drum.

  At last, Lily turned and forced a tight smile. "I believe Griffin and Lisbeth are upstairs."

  "I … actually, I wanted a few words with you."

  "Oh? About what?"

  Where to begin? Ronni didn't have a clue. So she jumped right in with both feet. "My condo is ready. And I've moved my things out of storage. I'll be leaving. Moving in there. Tomorrow."

  Lily put her hand on the washer lid, as if she needed the support. "Excuse me?"

  "I just … wanted you to know. I'm moving out tomorrow."

  "Moving out?" Lily looked truly stunned.

  "Yes. Ryan and I…" Well now. There was the beginning of a lie. Ryan had nothing to do with it. Best to leave his name out of it if she could. "Well, I've decided that maybe what's needed here is a little … perspective. A little time for all of us to think about what we really want."

  Lily put her other hand against her throat. "You have?"

  Ronni's stomach chose that moment to start acting edgy. She sucked in a breath through her nose.

  There. That was better. "Yes. I … just wanted you to know."

  "Well. Well, thank you." Lily's glance shifted away. Could she be feeling just a little bit regretful at this turn of events? Or was Ronni only indulging herself in a bout of wishful thinking?

  Lily drew her shoulders back and l
et go of the washer. "I think you're very wise and I hope … everything works out for you."

  So much for regret. Ronni sighed. "I'm sure it will. I'll be gone by noon tomorrow. But I still intend to continue helping Drew with his fund-raising on Saturdays and Sundays."

  "That's … very kind of you."

  "I'll pick him up at two-thirty tomorrow and have him home by a little after five."

  "All right. I…"

  For a split second, Ronni actually thought Lily might say something straight from the heart. "Yes?" she prompted on a rising inflection of pure hope.

  "Nothing. I suppose you'll want to tell the children now."

  Ronni found both Lisbeth and Griffin in Griffin's room, playing Nintendo. She watched for a while, then said she had something she wanted to talk to them about.

  It went very well. She sat on the floor with them and explained what a condo was, that she had one. That it had been being finished while she lived in the little house. That now it was done and she was going to go live there.

  "But you'll come back and see us, won't you?" Lisbeth asked.

  Griff jumped up and down. "Yes! Come back and see us! You come back soon!"

  She promised she would.

  She knocked on Drew's door next.

  "It's open!"

  She stuck her head in. He was sitting at the computer, his back to her. He turned, smiled. "May I come in?"

  "Sure." He pushed a button and a screen saver came down. Hundreds of little cartoon bugs leaped and danced across the screen.

  Ronni dragged the spare chair over near him and sat down in it. And then she told him that she was moving the next day. He didn't say anything when she delivered the news, only tucked his hands between his knees and looked down at the chair mat under his feet.

  She went on to explain that she still intended to continue the fund-raising project with him. "I'll pick you up the same as always tomorrow and we can—"

  He looked up, Malone-blue eyes stricken. "Don't you like my dad anymore?"

  She couldn't stop herself. She reached out. "Oh, honey—"

  He flinched away before she made contact. "Just tell me. Don't you like my dad?"

  Ronni carefully folded her hands in her lap. "Yes. Yes, I do like your dad. Very much."

  "Don't you like us … me and Griff and Lizzy and Grandma?"