Revealing the Real Dr. Robinson

by Dianne Drake

  “So let’s keep it that way.” There were times, though, when he wished he didn’t have to.

  * * *

  “You chose a beautiful area,” Shanna said, trailing along behind Ben. His long legs kept a brisk pace and while she was tall, just a few inches shy of his six-foot-two frame, with long legs herself, she was struggling to keep up with him.

  “It chose me,” he said brusquely. “There was a need here, and I had the means to do something about it.”

  “So you set up a hospital, just like that?” He seemed the type who could. Efficient, not a speck of nonsense in him. She wondered, for a moment, if Ben ever had fun in life, then dismissed the thought when she remembered that her life didn’t afford much fun, either. Not even after she’d walked away from medicine and, effectively, everything else in her life. Her goal then had been to see the world, have a good time, forget what frustrated her, what made her angry or sad. Concentrate only on what was good in the moment. Then get back to her life and see how it worked out. This was now the working-out part and fun didn’t matter. It was time to be a doctor again but without the emotional involvement that always got in her way.

  “Easier said than done. But from a simplistic viewpoint, yes. I set up a hospital just like that. With my sister. She’s only just started working here full time, but she’s been my partner from the beginning.”

  “Why Argentina?” Was it easier to fight his demons in such an isolated place? Maybe working so hard with so few resources helped him cope.

  “Before you ask, no, it’s not about isolating myself from the world because I’m an alcoholic and the temptations here might be fewer. They’re not. And I don’t consider this isolating myself from the world. My parents were humanitarian workers here for a while. And my sister’s native Argentinian, from a region south of here.”

  “I’d wondered if it might have something to do with your...shall we call it demon. But it’s not, and—”

  “Not, it’s not,” he interrupted.

  “Then I’m glad Argentina comes naturally to you. Choosing where you want to be because it’s the right fit or because of the emotional involvement makes your existence there easier. Oh, and just for the record, you overcame a problem, and I admire that. I hope it’s not an issue for you, because it’s not for me.”

  “You’re the only one I’ve ever told, Shanna.”

  “And that’s as far as it goes. I hope you’ll trust that, because we all have our past mistakes. Believe me, I have my share.” Rebelliousness, a husband she never should have married. Definitely a few mistakes there. “But live and learn, or live and wallow. What you’re doing here in Argentina isn’t wallowing, and that’s what matters.”

  He nodded, seemed to accept that explanation from her, then smiled. “No, being in Argentina isn’t about wallowing because I’ve always loved it here. The people are great, and they’re also very appreciative of our efforts—even the little things that don’t matter so much in most medical facilities. You know, give them an aspirin for a headache and they’re thankful. Back home, you give a patient an aspirin and, well, let’s just say it’s not likely to be received in the best spirit.”

  Something she understood completely. Her family employed a cadre of lawyers to keep all things worked out, including the irate patient who might refuse an aspirin for a headache then turn around and sue because she’d wanted a narcotic. As part owner of Brooks Medical Center, Shanna understood that all too well. Which made Ben’s set up here seem all the more appealing. “Well, I may need an aspirin for some legs aches if you don’t slow down. You’re tall, long legs, I’m having a hard time keeping up.”

  He stopped, measured her up, nodded. “Somehow, I don’t think you’ve ever had a hard time keeping up. In fact, I’m betting that in one way or another you’re always out in the lead.”

  “Not all the time,” she said, hearing the sadness starting to slip into her voice. “Sometimes I’m so far behind I’m not sure I’ll ever catch up.”

  Ben stopped. Turned to face her. “Which has nothing to do with our walking pace.”

  “Nothing.” She was surprised by his responsiveness. Had she made a cryptic remark like that to her ex-husband, he wouldn’t have caught on. But Ben did. He absolutely did, which tweaked a change in her opinion of him. Made it a little softer in her estimation. And a little less dispassionate.

  “If I slow down, are you going to tell me why you want to be like me? I’m not sure I like the idea of being watched that closely.”

  “Some people might be flattered.”

  “Or suspicious,” he countered.

  “Or hanging on by a thread.”

  “Let me guess. You’ve come to a crossroad, don’t know which way to go, so your choice is to copycat me?” He resumed walking, but much slower this time. “Let me tell you, Shanna. That sounds crazy.”

  “I know. But all my options at that crossroad are leading me to another career path.”

  “Then flip a coin.”

  “Would, if I could. But it’s not that easy.”

  “Sure it is. You’re a family practitioner. That seems like a pretty good path to me. So stay on the path you’re already on and figure out how to make it work. If you still enjoy practicing medicine.”

  That was exactly what she was doing, trying to figure out how to make it work. But Ben didn’t need to be privy to these things about her, especially the part where she wanted to figure out how to separate herself from the emotion the way he did. Telling him everything would only make him wary and watchful of her weaknesses, the way her grandfather had been.

  Here, at Caridad, she had the perfect opportunity to work one on one with the exact kind of doctor she had to become in order to survive—the doctor who didn’t flinch or cry when her patient died, or didn’t get so emotionally invested she lost sleep, couldn’t eat. Her grandfather had called her a sissified practitioner. Her father had backed that up and no one else in her family had come to her defense, which meant they all agreed to some extent, if not totally.

  But, then, look at them, the stalwart Brooks family doctors—her parents, grandparents, brothers. Why would they back her up when they were so entrenched in the Brooks family ways? She was the ousted, the one who didn’t fit. If she wanted back in, she was the one who had to do the changing. Thing was, she wasn’t sure anymore if she really wanted in, and maybe that was what bothered her. However it went, for now, she was exploring options, and Ben was the best option she’d come across. “I love practicing medicine. But for the moment I’m openly observing all paths and leaving it at that.” Such a confusing place to be.

  “Well, in that case, this path leads to Vera Santos, who had a stroke about a year ago. She gets along fairly well, takes care of her grandchildren during the day when their parents are working, and she has a passion for eating anything and everything that will elevate her blood pressure.”

  That caught her interest, shook her right out of her confusion. “What medication is she on? Chlorothiazide or furosemide?”

  “No medicine. But she’s eating more fish and grain. Garlic, too. And she’s currently concentrating on eating more vegetables and fewer sweets.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Marginally. Her blood pressure is still high, but not as high as it was when she had her stroke last year. Which I’d consider progress.”

  “Progress would be convincing her to take a pill.”

  “Which she won’t do because she doesn’t trust our kind of medicine.”

  “So she doesn’t get treated? Her medical condition is like a ticking time bomb, Ben. You know the statistics, she’s ten times as likely to have a second stroke because she’s already had one and her hypertension isn’t controlled. I mean, how can we let that happen?” It didn’t seem acceptable, especially with a condition that could kill her. And there she went again, heart on her sleeve and emotional involvement she shouldn’t be having.

  “She does get treated, Shanna. She’s on a better diet, she�
�s losing weight—doing nicely at it, her blood pressure is lowering, and I check her once a week. More, if she’s not feeling well. And the big thing is, if she refuses my treatment, and I have offered a variety of options, including pills, I can’t force it down her throat.”

  Ben held the gate open for Shanna, then followed her up the path to the front door. “We deal in realities here. It would be nice to give her a pill, but the reality is, she’s allowing me to do only what she wants me to do. It’s all I have to work with. I don’t like it, because my preference would be something more aggressive. But it’s not my preference, so I have to make do and be glad she allows me to do what I’m doing. The alternative could be doing nothing at all.”

  And there was his practical side, the one that didn’t jump in with both feet and get emotionally tangled up at the start. “But she knows the consequences. I tell her every time I see her. Don’t like the result, but it’s her decision to make, her consequence to deal with.”

  Shanna knew about choices and consequences. She was living the consequence of her choice now. Somehow, though, losing a family, which she feared was part of what was at stake for her, didn’t equate to losing a life, which was exactly what Vera Santos had at risk here—her life. So who really cared that she was already over the emotional edge for this patient? It wasn’t like her grandfather was standing there, calling her a sissy for caring. He wasn’t. Quite simply, Shanna wanted to help Vera Santos and that didn’t make her a sissified practitioner, no matter what anybody said.

  “What if I can persuade her?” she asked. “What if I can get her to agree to take the pills?”

  “That sure of yourself?” he asked.

  “That sure of human nature.” She knocked on the front door, then smiled at him. “And of myself.”

  “Well, if you’re that sure, here’s the deal.” A mischievous glint popped into his eyes. “You get her to agree to the pills and after house calls I’ll show you around the village, take you to dinner at the cantina.”

  She liked the glint, liked this unexpected side of him because previously, when they had been in Tuscany, he’d never initiated the plans. Whatever they’d done with one another had been more as a result of them mutually stumbling into something together. So Ben asking...that was a nice touch.

  “Then get yourself ready for the pay-off, Dr. Robinson,” she warned, “because I’m ready for that night on the town.”

  “But here’s the flipside. What do I get in return if she doesn’t agree?”

  “She’ll agree,” Shanna said quite confidently.

  “But if she doesn’t, what’s in it for me?”

  She thought hard for a moment. “A humble apology for being wrong?”

  “Not enough.”

  His face was totally expressionless and someone who didn’t know him might have thought he was being unfriendly. But he wasn’t. Ben was reserved but never unfriendly. And that elfish little glint was still in his eyes. “I know you love yerba maté tea, that you drink it every day. What I’ll do is brew it and bring it to you whenever you want it, for one entire day. Medical rounds and patient emergencies excluded, of course.”

  “Tea, but for an entire week, and a humble apology. Then the bet’s on.”

  She liked this side of him more and more. Not playful but light in a cautious, grounded sort of way. Like taking the step, but conservatively. Something she needed to learn, actually. “You’re a hard man, Ben. But I’m not worried, because I’m going to win,” she said as she stepped up to the door to address the woman who had opened it and was now standing there watching the two of them banter.

  “Buenas noches, Sra. Santos,” Shanna began. “Me llamo Dr. Brooks. Trabajo en el hospital con Dr. Robinson. La razón que estoy aquí esta noche es que quiero hablar con usted acerca de cómo puede quedarse sano y continuar cuidar de sus nietos.”

  “Really?” Ben said. “You’re going to use her grandchildren as the reason for her to take her medicine? Isn’t that being a little manipulative, telling her you want to talk to her about how to stay healthy so she can take care of them?”

  “Not manipulative. Smart.” Shanna looked up at him, smiling. “And you’re just annoyed you didn’t think of it first.”

  “How do you know I didn’t think of it first? Or already tried it?”

  “Because, like I said, you’re annoyed. If you’d already tried it and it didn’t work, you’d be laughing at me. And if you’d tried it and it had worked we wouldn’t be making a house call.” She stepped through the door Mrs. Santos held open for her, then turned back to Ben. “Is dancing included in that night on the town, by the way?”

  His response was to roll his eyes, exaggerate a sigh and follow her inside. No answer, no smile. Faked annoyance, she realized. Which meant his exterior wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it was. That came as a surprise. Actually, a huge surprise. But, sometimes she liked surprises.

  * * *

  “Okay, so you win,” Ben said, stepping around Shanna on the path back to the village and doubling his pace. Five house calls, and they were finished for the evening.

  “Spoken like a man who’s going to grudgingly pay off his wager.” She was barely keeping up with him again and, truth be told, she was almost too exhausted to care if he left her behind. Everything about the past few days had finally caught up with her, and the adrenalin edge had worn off. There were no big plans left in her for the rest of the night, except to get back to her room. Forget the tour, forget everything else. All she wanted to do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other enough times to get her where she wanted to be—in bed, asleep.

  “Spoken like a man who actually wishes he’d thought of your idea first. What you said to convince Vera Santos to take her medicine was nothing short of brilliant. And, yes, I wish I’d thought of it.”

  “What?” Shanna sputtered, pausing a moment to catch her breath.

  Ben stopped and turned around. “You heard what I said. No need to repeat myself just so you can gloat.”

  “Only gloat...a little.” Suddenly so exhausted she felt paralyzed, her words barely managed to escape her lips.

  “Shanna...” He took two steps back toward her but she held up her hand to stop him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little more tired than I’d expected. Wasn’t easy getting here.”

  “Jet lag, humidity...”

  Nodding, Shanna drew in a deep breath. “Is it a rough life out here, Ben?”

  “Not particularly. There are differences, but you get used to them.”

  “I hope so...” Straightening, she started down the path again and had almost caught up with Ben when he turned and continued his own trek, but even at his much slower pace she couldn’t keep up. So she didn’t even try. Instead, she lagged back and watched him walk. Man with a purpose, she thought, noting his long, deliberate strides. He calculates everything about his life. Evidenced by his squared shoulders. Not a movement in him without a specific intent. Maybe that was good, all things considered. But she couldn’t help wondering if it was also lonely.

  Another couple of dozen steps forward, and Ben was totally out of sight, which was just as well because a little cleared patch beside the road called her name. She wanted to sit down. In fact, she dropped her backpack to the ground with that intent, but thought about Ines and the snake then wondered about what other animals might be lurking in the dark, ready to get her.

  “Jaguars,” Ben said, stepping up behind her. “Cougars, and the occasional boar. Plus the snakes, which you already know about.”

  Gasping, Shanna spun to face him. “Where did you come from?”

  “You weren’t keeping up so I rounded back. Saw you contemplating a little rest by the side of the road and figured that if you were as smart as you seem, you were probably wondering what kinds of animals out here might get you if you sat down. Oh, and I originally came from California, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It’s not funny,” she snapped.
Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt, and she was barely able to breathe, he’d scared her so bad.

  “No, being out here alone at night is never funny. It’s one of those differences you have to adjust to.”

  “Do you routinely take all your volunteers to the jungle at night and scare them to death?”

  He chuckled. “Hadn’t ever considered it, but it does sound like a good indoctrination idea, doesn’t it? Especially since you’ll never come this way at night again without being cautious.”

  He’d actually laughed. Attempted a little humor then laughed. She’d heard it in his voice, wished she could have seen it on his face. “I know I told you you’re a hard man, Ben. But I’d like to add cruel to that, as well. You’re a hard and cruel man. Has anybody ever told you that?”

  “Once or twice. But I like to think of myself as a man who doesn’t want to see his volunteers get eaten. Which probably wouldn’t have happened to you as there hasn’t been a sighting of a jaguar near here in years. Still, better to be safe than sorry. Right?”

  Not only was he laughing, he was sounding quite chipper. Was this Ben in his element? she wondered. Ben synonymous with the night? Happy in his separation? That analysis didn’t seem right. He might put on that dark front—a psychologist would probably say it was meant to keep people away. Yet she saw something else, something behind it, and it wasn’t dark at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite. “Did you ever consider that it might be better to warn me rather than scare me?”

  “And you’re the type who’ll listen to a warning? Because you seem just the opposite. You know, the one who has to find out on her own. Learn her lessons the hard way. Confront the jaguar head on to prove there’s really a jaguar there.”

  He was right about that, but she didn’t have to admit it to him. “In other words, learn my lesson by getting myself eaten?”

  “Why are you really here, Shanna? And don’t tell me it’s because you want to be like me, because nobody who knows me wants to be like me.”

  “But I don’t know you. All that time we spent together in Tuscany and I really don’t know any more than what I see when I look at you.”