"Good," Marty Heber, the other pediatrician in her dad's practice intoned. Beneath dark slashes of auburn eyebrow, kind hazel eyes sparkled behind preppy, wire-rimmed glasses. "I don't want to have to look for another partner."
Karen's smile slipped a bit. "I do worry about him pushing himself so hard, though."
"Nonsense." Dr. Sheppard frowned at his wife, the expression laced with fond amusement as he tucked his hand beneath his tie and absently rubbed his breastbone. "An interesting job keeps a man young. What would I do if I weren't working?"
"Oh," Karen drawled, "you could travel, play golf, take up a hobby, plant that rose garden Andy mentioned."
"Honey, you're the gardener around here. Inside of a month, I'd be bored to death and underfoot so much that you'd be begging me to go back to the clinic."
Katie was scarcely listening to the banter. Since she wasn't contributing to the conversation and everyone had finished eating, she motioned to her mom for her to stay seated and started clearing plates so the guests would have more elbow room. Leaving the table also had the advantage of giving her something to do other than avoid Mike's glance—which she managed to do rather brilliantly, she thought, by coming up behind him to take the plate he'd scarcely touched.
She wished she could go home. As Mike murmured a quiet, "Thanks," when she took his plate and he handed her his mother's plate, too, she suspected he felt much the same way. She'd had to come. It was her father's birthday, after all. But after the day Mike had, his absence would certainly have been forgiven. The fact that he'd made it a point to be there, especially knowing she would be, spoke volumes about his affection for the man.
He didn't look too affectionate now, however. When she moved to the end of the table, his brow was furrowed in a deep frown.
"Are you okay, Dr. Sheppard?" Mike asked, cutting into the conversation when he saw her dad press his fingers against his chest.
"Me? I'm fine," he dismissed, dropping his hand. "I just ate too much. Karen knows I love her Cornish hens." A smile of appreciation for the concern dug lines into his lean, leathery cheeks. "What was that, Beth?" he asked, returning to the discussion. "You've got Andy here talking retirement?"
"I've got him thinking about it," Beth corrected. "It'll be a while, but he made the first move toward it by hiring a new lawyer in his office."
"Had to." Andrew lifted his big shoulders in a shrug and winked at Mike. "I couldn't get either of my sons to follow in my footsteps. I can't understand it, either. Who'd have thought an attorney would lose his children to such shady pursuits as bettering people's lives. A doctor and a social worker. My only hope was the one still in school, and he's leaning toward being a pro athlete."
"Say, Katie." A conspiratorial gleam glinted in Beth's eyes as she crossed her arms on the square of white lace. It was the same gleam she'd glimpsed when Beth and her mother had been in the kitchen speculating about how long the Sheppards would have to wait to be grandparents. "I was telling your mother a while ago about the new man Andy hired. He's single. Nice. And very attractive," she added before Katie could wince. "He's in his early thirties, never married, adores children—"
Mike's eyebrows jammed together. "How do you know that?"
"I've met him."
"I mean about the kids."
"I asked how he felt about them," his mother admitted, looking surprised that he hadn't figured that out.
"Of course you did."
"Anyway, Katie, he really is very nice. Bright, funny. Drives a new BMW," she added, her voice taking on a confidential note. "Are you interested?"
Katie saw the muscle in Mike's jaw jump when he lay his napkin on the table. No one seemed to have noticed that all evening their exchanges with each other had been limited to the polite and the necessary.
Watching him dig the fingers of his right hand into his left shoulder as if the muscles there were knotted tight, she couldn't help remembering that the last time they'd had dinner together, his single status had been under the microscope. That had been the evening he made it so abundantly clear that he was perfectly happy with his life as it was.
"I don't know, Mrs. Brennan." She avoided Mike's gaze, not wanting to be concerned about the fatigue etched into the corners of his eyes. If his own mother didn't seem to notice that he looked particularly drained tonight, then she was obviously seeing something that wasn't there. "I'm not much on blind dates."
Looking pathetically grateful for the excuse to escape, she took the plates and headed into the kitchen. Mike watched her go, his glance reluctantly straying over the curve of her hip, the graceful length of leg exposed by the unexpected slit in the side of her slim, calf-length dress. The figure-skimming sheath that covered even her wrists was utterly plain, but its rich bronze color saved it from being uninspired. He liked her simplicity, her lack of artifice.
He supposed he always had.
The thought brought a faint frown, but he didn't let himself dwell on why he'd only now realized that about her. Mrs. Sheppard had just announced that dessert would be served in the living room.
"Do you know if she's dating anyone right now?" his mom quietly asked him, setting her own napkin aside.
Over the refined commotion coming from the other end of the table as chairs were pushed back and people rose, Mike replied with a terse, "No," and pushed back his own chair.
This wasn't his mom's first attempt at matchmaking for Katie. But as she went on to repeat the virtues of Mr. Wonder Lawyer and pointed out that Katie might really like the young man, Mike experienced a personal first of his own. He felt the heat of pure, unadulterated jealousy.
He truly had never experienced the feeling before. But there was no doubt in his mind what it was. He couldn't imagine anything else that would make him hate another man sight unseen, or make a man dedicated to healing hearts want to tear one out.
He'd been watching her all evening, catching whiffs of her soft perfume or powder or whatever it was that smelled like spring and reminded him of seduction. That he'd been so aware of that scent hadn't made any sense at all. It was so subtle a person normally had to be standing right next to her to notice it at all. After their thirty-second encounter when he'd put away the chairs, the closest he'd been to her all evening was when she'd taken his plate.
He took a deep breath, slowly blew it out. It had to be the stress of the day catching up with him. He knew he was tired. He was edgy with fatigue, and his neck and shoulders ached from the hours he'd spent bent over an open chest. It had been one of those surgeries that had yielded one unpleasant surprise after another and just about everything that could go wrong had.
The miracle was that the patient survived. God willing, she would be sitting on the edge of her hospital bed tomorrow feeling as if she'd been blindsided by a Mack truck.
"We could invite Jeff to the club for dinner," his mom suggested, too busy watching Trina surreptitiously unbunch her slip from under her skirt to notice that Mike wasn't sharing her enthusiasm. "You could bring Katie to join us. If she was with the three of us, it wouldn't be a blind date. And if they hit it off, well…" She shrugged, her eyebrows arched in anticipation. "What do you think?"
He thought he needed air.
Pulling himself to his feet, he gripped the back of her chair to pull it out for her. The tightness in his jaw made his words sound the same way.
"I don't think I'll be able to make it."
"We haven't decided on a night," she chided, dismissing the excuse. "We'll work around your schedule. And Katie's … if she wants to go. I'm not trying to push anything on her."
It sure sounded as if she were to him, but Mike bit back his response. Katie had just returned, her soft smile curving her rose-tinted mouth as she graciously told her dad's office manager that she'd be in to join them in a few minutes. Everyone but Dr. and Mrs. Sheppard and his own parents had vacated the room, and they weren't far behind when his mom caught Katie's eye.
"I just had an idea," she began, only for Mike to inter
rupt.
"Leave me out of it."
"Oh, Michael, don't be a spoilsport. If you are interested in meeting Jeff," Beth continued to Katie, though the perplexed look was for her son, "you could join us at the club."
"She wants me to take you to meet the lawyer." Mike's eyes locked on Katie's, his expression a study in stone. "That way it won't be a blind date."
Caught totally off guard by the plan that had been hatched in her absence, Katie could do nothing but blink in incomprehension.
Tension fairly rolled through Mike's body, but his voice dropped as he turned from his mother, leaving only Katie close enough to hear what was meant just for her anyway. "I don't know if he's what would interest you or not."
Katie slowly crossed her arms, the motion blatantly protective. There was an attack in those cool, terse words, as well as a heavy hint of something that sounded suspiciously, unbelievably, like hurt.
"Dr. Sheppard," he continued, stepping back to extend his hand to her father. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stay for your cake. But I appreciate being included tonight. Happy birthday."
"That's quite all right, son." Returning the handshake, her dad clapped Mike on the shoulder. "Thanks very much. Oh, and let me know if you decide to do any more clinical research. A friend of mine in Portland is looking into pediatric applications of the drug you were talking about. Maybe you could collaborate."
Mike thanked him for the information and, looking more agitated by the second, said good-evening to Katie's mom, pecked his mom on the cheek, and gave his dad a pat on the shoulder.
He didn't say a word to Katie. He didn't even glance toward her as his long strides carried him out of the room. But no one had seemed to notice. Their parents were turning to each other in confusion before it occurred to her mother, usually the perfect hostess, that no one was escorting him to the door.
"Did he get a call?" Karen asked, her glance bouncing between Andrew and Beth. "I didn't hear a beeper."
Beth shook her head, her glance searching her husband's. "I have no idea what that was all about."
"I think it's about exhaustion." The explanation Katie offered was the easiest, the one that would raise no questions she'd have to hedge. "He was in a marathon surgery today. Nine hours that I know of." Concerned despite herself, mystified by his growing displeasure with her, she heard his footfall fading down the entry hall. "As late as he was leaving the hospital tonight, he'd probably been at the operation longer than that."
"Well, I've seen him tired before," Beth said, lines of bewilderment fanning from her eyes. "But he's never short-tempered with his family. Did something … go wrong?"
"He said the patient was stable when he left. That's all I know," Katie added, because more questions were forming in Beth's eyes.
"Well, it must just be fatigue then. We all have our limits." Maternal defense warred with maternal concern. "Do you think he's all right to drive home, Andy?"
"I'm sure he's fine," his father replied. "The man's had a long day is all. He's entitled to not feel like socializing."
As far as Katie knew, Mike had had only one drink, but he was undoubtedly tired. He was too agitated to fall asleep behind the wheel, though. Still, hearing the door quietly close, the sound somehow deliberately restrained, she was overwhelmed by the feeling that it had all gone far enough. Before she and Mike had overstepped the bounds of their friendship, he never would have acted that way toward her. And she wouldn't have hesitated to make sure he was okay.
She didn't question what she was doing as she murmured, "I'll check anyway," and headed past the library and into the foyer herself. Beyond the dark wood of the door, she heard his car start, the engine revving just a little louder and a little longer than was probably necessary. Not bothering with a coat, she hurried past the parson's bench and the antique mirror gracing the entry, telling herself she'd find the words she needed when she reached him. But he was already leaving the driveway as she hurried onto the porch, and all she could see were his taillights.
The cold suddenly seemed to seep through her dress and into her skin. She became aware of her breath drifting off in rapid puffs of fog, of her heart hammering against her rib cage. She shivered, chafing her arms to warm herself, but the chill came from within as well as without.
There had been a time when she'd thought losing his friendship was the worst thing that could possibly happen. She'd been wrong. The worst thing was not knowing how to get it back.
"Katie? Did you talk to him?"
She turned with a start at the sound of her mother's voice. In the lemony glow of the porch light, she saw concern reflected in eyes very much like her own.
"No, I … no. He was already gone."
"Well, we'll call in a while and make sure he got home all right. Come back inside. You're going to catch your death out here.
"We're going to serve your father's cake now," she continued, sliding her arm around Katie's shoulder, hugging her to warm her up. "You never said what you bought him for his birthday."
"I got him a picture for his office." Mike never had gotten back to her with a suggestion. "It's an old photo that I had blown up and framed."
"What a sweet idea. Of you and him?"
"Of him and Mike. Mike's about fourteen and Dad's teaching him how to use a microscope. It was the only thing I could think of that he'd like."
* * *
Chapter Ten
« ^ »
"What were you thinking? Good grief, Katie. He's a doctor!"
Katie sat on her sofa, knotting her tissue as Lee paced a rut in front of her drapes. Dana, curled up at the opposite end of the couch, snatched the box of tissues from the coffee table and held it out.
"Blow."
"Thanks."
"I've got to admit," Dana muttered, setting the box back after Katie had quite inelegantly done as she'd suggested. "When you screw up something, you do an exceptionally fine job of it."
"Neither one of you is helping."
"But sleeping with Mike?" Lee exclaimed. "Okay," she conceded, holding up her hands when Dana glared at her. "We'll forget that he's on the forbidden list for a minute here. Of course nothing is the same between the two of you. It can't possibly be. He's a man. Now that he's had carnal knowledge of you, he's not relating to you with his brain … clinically speaking."
"She's absolutely right, Katie. Once you've slept with a man, the entire dynamic of the relationship changes. It shifts power and vulnerabilities and who knows what else. Just look at how vulnerable you are to everything he's doing now."
"Or not doing," Lee added, ever so helpfully.
Tearing another shred from the tissue, Katie glanced up with red-rimmed eyes. She wasn't crying. She was considering it, though. "Where do you guys get this stuff?"
Dana and Lee gave a simultaneous shrug. "We read a lot," Dana said.
"So what do I do?"
This time it was Dana who held up her hands. "You know how lousy I am with relationships. I haven't a clue."
"Well, I'm hardly an expert," Lee piped in, "but as torn up as you are about this, I think there's only one thing you can do."
"Fine. Just tell me what it is."
"You and Mike have been friends forever. Even longer than the three of us," she said, including Dana with the sweeping gesture of her arm. "If any of us had a problem with each other, the only way to work it out would be to sit down and talk it through."
"But there's a difference here, Lee. Mike isn't only a friend to Katie. She's in love with him."
Katie's glance darted to them both, then promptly fell to her lap. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
"You are? Oh, Katie," Lee murmured, her voice falling more in disquiet than disappointment. "Be careful."
The concern in Lee's expression was mirrored in Dana's.
"Don't worry," she assured her friends, feeling a tug of affection for them both. "It's not like he loves me back, so there's no problem. Right?"
Anyone
else would have found her conclusion totally confusing. All her friends did was give her a look that said they wouldn't trade places with her for all the sales at Nordstrom's.
"Lee's right, you know." Dana's voice held as much sympathy as conviction. "You have to sit down and talk to him. Just tell him what you told us. Tell him you can't stand what's happened between the two of you and that you need your old friend back. Look at it this way," she suggested, brightening, "at the rate you're going, there's no way it could get worse."
There was no arguing Dana's conclusion. After last night, Katie figured she couldn't possibly mess things up any more than they already were.
But he was in surgery when she got to work the next morning.
And by that afternoon, their little problem was the last thing on her mind.
"I just don't believe this, Katie. He was fine when he left home this morning. And Trina said he seemed perfectly all right to her until he came back from lunch. Then he started having chest pains, and she said he got all gray, and he just … he just…"
"It's okay, Mom." Katie reached for her, unable to bear the fear welling in her mother's eyes. She'd never seen her look so frightened. She'd seen that fear in the eyes of patients' relatives before, but never had she fully appreciated their anxiety until now. Other people had heart attacks. Not her father. The man kept himself in excellent shape. "I'll take you to the waiting room, then find out how long it'll be before he comes up."
"Where have they taken him?"
"To the cath lab. They need to do an angiogram."
"Oh, Katie."
"It's all right, Mom." Where was Mike? Still in surgery? Back at his office? she wondered, not bothering to qualify her need for his presence. "The test doesn't hurt," she hurriedly assured.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. He stays awake for the procedure," she began, and found herself slipping into the teaching mode she relied on with patients' relatives when they were faced with this very sort of confusion and uncertainty. Explaining the procedure, why it was necessary and how it was done, prevented her from focusing too closely on who the patient was. Detaching was the only way she could help her mom right now. And right now, since she couldn't do anything for her father, taking care of her mother was all she cared about.
FROM HOUSECALLS TO HUSBAND Page 16