From House Calls To Husband

by Christine Flynn

  The knot in her stomach felt strangely like the one that had been there the first time he’d left her bed. Only bigger. She needed him as a friend. Not a lover. If she didn’t set a few ground rules for both of them—starting with “hands off”—they were never going to get their relationship straightened out.

  “The doctors say your dad is doing fine, honey. They wouldn’t have transferred him out of intensive care if he wasn’t. If you’re going to look so worried, I’m going to start worrying again, too.”

  Katie looked up from her coffee and blinked at the woman across from her. Her mom looked more like herself today, more rested, more together. She’d taken her usual care with her wardrobe, her silk blouse matching her mauve wool jacket and slacks. Her gold earrings even had mauve-colored stones in them. Katie matched only because she was in her blue uniform scrubs. She was working half a shift today.

  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  “I want to know what you’re so concerned about.”

  Apologizing again, she forced a smile. “I’m just preoccupied, I guess.”

  “Well, you’ve been that way ever since Beth and I picked you up this morning. Did Mike keep you up after he took you home?”

  No, Mom, she thought, I pretty much hauled him right off to bed. “I got plenty of sleep,” she replied, evading. “I didn’t get up until eight.”

  That she’d lain for an hour with her head buried under her pillow wishing she’d only dreamed what had happened was something she didn’t need to mention. She didn’t want to talk about this morning or last night at all. If her mom suspected that she and Mike were anything more than what they’d always had been, she would be picking out silver patterns with Beth Brennan by noon.

  Katie, on the other hand, was desperate for an argument that would convince her former friend that their relationship had to be platonic. Considering that Dana was right, that she was hopelessly in love with Mike, she had no idea at the moment what that argument was going to be.

  Assuring herself that she’d come up with something by the time she saw him, she motioned to the bowl of fruit her mom hadn’t touched.

  “You should eat. That’s why we came down here.” Her expression filled with sympathy as she picked up her cup. “Dad really is going to be okay, Mom. I won’t be assigned to him, but I’ll be on the floor, so I’ll know if there are any problems. Okay?”

  “It does make me feel better to know you’ll be there. I think it makes him feel better, too.” Picking up her fork, she toyed with a seed in a piece of watermelon. “He said you came in to see him after I left last night.”

  “I told you I’d check. As medicated as he was, I’m surprised he remembered.”

  “He did. He told me he wanted to make sure you were taking care of me. I’ve been taking care of myself for years,” she said, her soft smile full of affection, “and he knows it. It’s just his way of saying he cares.”

  That wasn’t the impression she’d gotten from her father, Katie thought, slowly sipping the industrial-strength brew. Considering that he regarded his daughter as being far more independent than his wife, it sounded more as if he thought her in need of protection.

  Katie rarely spoke to her mother about her dad. And never had she asked about their marriage. But something that eluded her completely held that relationship together. And because the most important relationship of her life was falling apart, she couldn’t help but wonder what that something was.

  “May I ask you something personal, Mom?”

  At the unexpected question, her mother glanced up from the seed she was burying under a slice of cantaloupe.

  “Of course you can.”

  An image of her mom sitting alone in the front row of a grade school play flashed in Katie’s mind. “Do you ever regret marrying a man who is so rarely there?”

  “Regret?” The fork clattered lightly as it was set on the table, a thoughtful expression stealing over maturely attractive features. “There have certainly been times when I’ve wished he was around more. But regret?” She shook her head, looking every bit as certain as she sounded. “Never.”

  “But what about everything you had to do alone? For as long as I can remember, you’ve had the responsibility of the house and the yard and the cars. And, for all practical purposes, you raised me alone. You must have felt like a single parent.”

  “He wasn’t always physically present,” she agreed, the light of curiosity entering her eyes at the consternation in her daughter’s expression. “And he certainly missed a few anniversaries and birthdays over the years, but it wasn’t as if he forgot them. And we always talked.

  “I had to make decisions without him sometimes,” she conceded, looking as if she were remembering back to when Katie had been a child, “but he always supported me on them. Just like I always supported him when he’d get a call at two in the morning and he’d have to leave for the hospital. He had his job and I had mine. Mine was to see that his home ran smoothly, to raise you and make everything as perfect as I could. I’m sure I spoiled him,” she admitted with a sheepishness that wasn’t familiar to Katie at all, “but I wanted to.”

  “It just seems to me that you gave more than you got.”

  “Because other people were always needing him?” she asked, as if that were simply the lot of a doctor’s wife.

  “Yes,” Katie replied flatly.

  Karen placed her hand over her daughter’s, her eyes searching and serious.

  “It was his generosity and caring about other people that attracted me to him in the first place, Katie. I knew when I married him that I’d have to share him. But I needed him. I always will. How can I complain about the very thing that makes him the man he is?”

  Katie had no answer for that. But in those moments, she began to understand more about the woman sitting across from her than she ever had. Karen Sheppard didn’t need to be taken care of. She just needed the man she loved. In her own way, she was actually the most formidable sort of woman—the kind who looks fragile as glass, but has a backbone of solid steel.

  As she looked from the wrinkles on her mom’s manicured hand to her neatly styled blond twist, she also began to understand why her mother was always finding some little fault with her. If she wanted everything perfect for the husband she adored, then it followed that she would try to be the perfect wife—and raise the perfect daughter.

  Feeling about as flawed as they came, Katie turned her hand over and gave her mother’s a squeeze. “I don’t know if I could ever be as generous as you are.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you’re far more generous than I am. I’m just flexible is all. And I know I made a lot of mistakes. But you’re right. I did raise you pretty much alone. Which means I get to take most of the credit for you,” she said, catching Katie off guard with the unexpected touch of pride. “I just wish sometimes that I hadn’t raised you to be so independent.”

  Katie instantly went on alert. Her mother had that look in her eyes, the same one she got whenever she started talking about how precious Katie would look with shorter hair, or how nice it would be to have a grandchild.

  “It’s good for a woman to be self-sufficient,” her mom said, actually looking more like a confidante than a critic, “but I never wanted you to be so independent that you didn’t need someone of your own.” Her head lifted, a quick smile flashing on her Marvelous Mauve lips. “There’s Mike.”

  There seemed to be an echo of her father’s words in her mother’s quiet statement. But it wasn’t the realization that both of her parents seemed to think her resistant to a relationship that had her pulling her hand away. “He’s coming over?”

  “I don’t know. He’s talking to someone by the cashier.” Her smile disappeared. “What’s the matter? Is your stomach bothering you?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d crossed her arms so tightly until she saw her mother frowning at the wrinkles she was pressing into her scrub top. Telling herself she was going to wind up with an ulcer if she didn’t
get this mess with Mike straightened out, she deliberately loosened her hold.

  “I’m fine, Mom. We should probably go, though. They’ll have finished pulling Dad’s lines by now,” she added, referring to the internal monitors and tubes his nurse had gone in to remove.

  Surprisingly, her mother made no effort to get up. She simply sat, her head tipped as she watched Katie avoid her eyes.

  “You know,” she observed, her tone a little too casual, “Beth said the other night that she thought Mike was awfully reluctant to have her introduce you to the new man in Andy’s office.

  “She thought there might be something starting between you two,” she continued, finally reaching for her purse. “But I told her it was just wishful thinking on her part. You two have always been so much like brother and sister,” she went on in that same offhand way, “that I couldn’t see it at all.” She glanced up, smiling beyond Katie’s shoulder, before looking back to her daughter. “You have always thought of him as a big brother, haven’t you?”

  There was a wealth of speculation in that innocent-sounding question. But Katie didn’t have a chance to answer before the light in her mother’s eyes brightened.

  “Hello, Michael. How are you this morning?”

  “I’m doing fine,” he replied, the warm brandy burn of his voice flowing over Katie’s rapidly knotting nerves. “Am I interrupting?”

  Diplomatically curbing her speculation, her mother assured him that he wasn’t and asked him to join them. Katie glanced up as the offer was extended, doing a little curbing of her own. He was wearing the same charcoal suit he’d worn at her father’s party. That dark color and the sapphire of his shirt turned his eyes the shade of blue flame. Feeling her pulse scramble as that flame touched her, she took a deep, calming breath and watched him look back at her mom.

  “They said upstairs that I’d find you down here,” he said, dropping his overcoat on the chair back. Over the scrape of chair legs on tile, he added, “I was just with your husband. He looks good, Mrs. Sheppard. Tired and uncomfortable, but that’s to be expected.” Sitting down beside her, he offered an easy smile. “He wanted to know where you were, though.”

  “May I see him now?”

  “I don’t know why not.”

  The prospect of seeing her husband suddenly took on the urgency that had been lacking when Katie had mentioned going upstairs herself only moments ago. With her purse already in hand, she rose as Mike did to help her with her chair.

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling at his chivalry. “Oh, and thank you for taking Katie home last night. You’ve been wonderful to us.” Her wedding ring flashed as she caught his arm and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you upstairs later, Katie.”

  “I can come with you.”

  “No need.” She sliced a meaningful glance toward the man still towering beside her. “Take your time,” she encouraged, and, looking entirely too happy for a woman whose husband was barely out of critical care, she strolled away.

  “Why do I have the feeling you just got rid of her on purpose,” Katie murmured when Mike sat down in the chair her mom had just vacated.

  “Because you’re a relatively astute woman. On occasion.” Letting the qualifier pass, he eyed the fruit plate.

  “Which one of you isn’t eating?”

  “Mom.”

  “Did you get my note?”

  Her glance flicked to his, her heart stalling at the directness of his gaze. No one would ever accuse him of beating around the bush.

  “Yes. And you’re right,” she told him, thinking of what the note had said. “We do need to talk.” She reached for her coffee, and promptly pulled her hand back so he wouldn’t see it shaking. “There was something I wanted to tell you before all this started with Dad, but I obviously didn’t get a chance. I really would like to talk to you before anything else happens.”

  “Are you expecting a disaster?” he asked, looking as if he were trying to prompt a smile.

  “Just trying to prevent one.”

  He didn’t look as if he cared for the sound of that. He also looked as if he, too, had something rather specific on his mind.

  “I don’t want to discuss this here,” he muttered. Nodding to one of the OR nurses as she passed, he ignored the envious glare the woman gave Katie and glanced at the burgundy raincoat hanging on the chair beside her. “How long before you have to be upstairs?”

  “Cindy has to leave at noon, so I’m finishing out her shift for her. I have another hour.”

  “That’s about what I have before my next appointment. Would you rather drive somewhere or go for a walk?”

  Feeling a definite need to pace, she opted for the walk.

  The park across the street from the hospital took up two city blocks and was lined from one side to the other with hedges and pines. In March, the winter-dead lawns and concrete benches were pretty much the domain of the squirrels who ran, chattering, from one barren oak tree to the next. Few people wandered its walkways, unless it was to cut from one street to the next. Especially when the weather was bad.

  The leaden clouds overhead were actually separated by streaks of blue sky when they crossed the wet street near the emergency entrance. As anxious as Katie felt, the sun could have suddenly come out, or it could have started pouring rain and she might not have noticed. All she could think about with Mike walking beside her was the look of quiet determination carved in his face.

  “Thanks for cleaning up the plant,” she said, unwilling to let silence magnify her disquiet. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “I just got the big pieces. I didn’t want to wake you with the vacuum.”

  “Still, I appreciate it,” she told him, entering a section of barren rose garden. She took a deep breath, part of her wanting only to get this over with, another part wishing it weren’t necessary. “You’re a good friend.”

  The cool breeze tugged at her hair, tossing loose curls against her cheek. “That’s what I’ve wanted to talk to you about.” She twisted her head so the wind could remove the bothersome strand. “About being friends.”

  “Is that how you think of me?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild. “As a good friend?”

  “My best.” Her footfall matched his, the slow cadence mocking the erratic beat of her heart. “I’ve known you all my life, Mike. I can’t imagine you not always being there.” The wind flipped her hair into her face again. Agitated, needing desperately for him to know how important he was to her, she swiped at it and started to look toward him. “That’s why all this has been so awful.”

  Her hand was falling from her cheek when Mike caught her by the wrist. Stopping her in her tracks, he turned her to face him.

  Sometime in the past few moments determination had become defense. His glance slid the length of her body, the visual caress so deliberate that when he lifted his eyes to hers again, she felt as if he’d just stripped her bare. “All of it?”

  “Except that part,” she admitted, her voice singed to nearly a whisper. Pulling her hand away, she willed herself to ignore the heat he ignited all too easily. “But I’m going to overlook that.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet. I haven’t figured that out. But I’m not going to bed with you again. That’s the part that’s complicating everything.”

  She didn’t trust the stillness that stole over him, or the way his eyes narrowed on her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for, either, but she knew he wasn’t at all pleased with what he found.

  “Just what is it that you want from me, Katie? The signals I’m getting from you are totally screwed up.”

  “Don’t be angry—”

  “I’m not angry,” he insisted, eyes flashing. “I’m confused. Last night you wanted me as much as I wanted you. It was the same way the first time. And now you’re pushing me away again.”

  “Forget last night,” she begged, well aware of how mixed her signals had been. “And I’m not pushing you away. All I want is for us
to be the way we were before. I want us to be comfortable with each other. I want us to be able to call each other and ask for help or to talk or to have dinner or watch a movie or...or...borrow something.” Her voice caught on a plea. “I want my old friend back.”

  The pleading in her eyes confounded Mike even more than what he was hearing. He didn’t care what she said—she was pushing him away. Yet, he could swear she didn’t look as if that was what she wanted to do at all.

  “Let me make sure I have this right.” He stepped back, shoving his hand through his hair in disbelief. Having come from her bed less than twelve hours ago, her responses to him fresh in his mind, he’d had an entirely different agenda than the one she was proposing. “You want to be friends. You want to go back to the way things were between us a couple of months ago. And you want to forget last night. Right?”

  Though clearly wary of his terse summation, she nodded.

  “Well, you know what, honey? That’s not going to happen.”

  “Mike—”

  “It can’t possibly be the way it was,” he insisted, frustration with her logic goading him on. “I don’t understand how you can even think it could be. It would be like trying to turn a flower back into a bud. Or making a tree viable after it had been burned to ash. Some changes are just plain irreversible, and this happens to be one of them.”

  “We could try.”

  “Why do we even have to?” he insisted, amazed by how naive she was being. “I know you’ve said you’d never marry a doctor because you don’t want a man who won’t be there for you and your children, but you won’t even give me a chance to prove what kind of a husband and father I’d be. And you know what?” he demanded, ignoring the way he’d just barreled over what he’d intended to talk to her about, “I think that’s just an excuse, anyway. You’ve said for years that you want marriage and a family, but you’ve made it next to impossible to meet any man who could qualify as a husband. You’re either at the hospital around the very sort of man you say you don’t want, or you’re working at the free clinic with pregnant women and their kids. Don’t you see anything wrong with that picture?”