Everlasting

by S. E. Lund

  "Thanks."

  I entered the space and saw that it was divided in two, with Marco's work on one side and Serena's work on the other. Marco was busy applying gesso to a new canvas, bending over the frame and using broad strokes to cover its surface. He stopped and smiled at me.

  "I'm just about done. Take a look around. Serena's brewing some tea."

  "Thanks, I will," I replied and peeked at his canvases. Half a dozen lined the walls. They were quite different than I imagined. Bright colors and broad strokes of downtown San Francisco streets. At first, the colors seem positive, vibrant, but then I examined the subject matter and found it was all back alleys, empty parking lots. Garbage bins overflowed, discarded bottles lined gutters, a homeless man sat against the brick wall in an alley, a hat partially shading his craggy and weathered face.

  Marco was talented. His choice of subject was critical. It seemed like he was making a comment on the forgotten, the discarded.

  "These are really good," I said, honestly impressed.

  "Thank you," he said. "I grew up in that neighborhood. It's pretty rough."

  "You've really captured it. I feel a sense of desperation in these."

  "There's a lot of hardship on those streets."

  I glanced over at Serena's half of the space and saw that she did portraits. Her canvases were all people and were impressionistic. The colors were muted, and the people's faces were dirty and their hair messy. I didn’t honestly know what to think of her work, but it was clear she had a point of view and was talented.

  "Who are your subjects?" I asked.

  "They're street people," she said. "Marco and I are activists. We're trying to show the people and places everyone forgets."

  I nodded in understanding.

  We had a cup of tea together and the two talked about their work and how they met in an art class at UCSF. It was a real love story. They seemed to be really in love by the way they looked at each other when they talked. It was sweet.

  It made me feel a pang of regret that Drake had been so busy at the hospital working the evening shift that I hardly spent any time with him alone or with Sophie since we arrived in San Francisco.

  I was determined to change that. Drake had a couple of days off coming up and I was going to make them memorable. We hadn't really made love for a while and I missed him. I missed that easy sexuality we shared. I loved Sophie madly but we were both so tired all the time that it was hard to find the perfect time for sex.

  And we hadn't done anything kinky for a long time.

  After our tea was finished, I said goodbye to Marco and Serena and left the building, driving back down the coast and to my father's house to pick up Sophie.

  When I arrived, she was playing on the beach with Elaine while my father sat on the patio and watched.

  I bent down and kissed my father on the cheek. "How are you?"

  He squeezed my hand on his shoulder. "I'm great. Sophie and Elaine are down on the beach. They're having a great time. How are you? How's the studio?"

  "It's wonderful," I said and sat beside him for a moment. "I honestly couldn't have asked for a better space. I can't wait to finish getting set up so I can start to paint again."

  "Great to hear," he said and smiled. "You need to make a life for yourself outside of Sophie and Drake. If you do, it will make your time with them both so much more meaningful."

  "You think so?" I said, sighing. "I was feeling guilty taking time away from them both, like I was denying them."

  "Not at all," my father said and pointed to the beach. "You're allowing Sophie time with her grandparents. That's something great. You're allowing Drake time to spend with Sophie alone so he can establish his own bond with her. A father and daughter have a special relationship. I can't explain it, but it is special."

  "I know," I said and squeezed his hand back. "I guess I feel selfish wanting time to myself to paint."

  "Don't feel that way. You're more than any one thing. You're more than an artist. You're more than a mother and wife. You're more than a daughter. You're all those things together and more. You are more than the sum of your parts, Kate."

  I kissed the top of his head. "How come you always say the right thing to take me out of my funk?"

  He frowned. "Are you in a funk?"

  "No," I said, correcting myself. "I was just feeling guilty and wanting to spend more time with Drake alone. It seems we're always too tired to be a couple anymore and when we do feel great, we have Sophia. Don’t get me wrong," I said quickly. "I wouldn't change things, except maybe have a bit more time with Drake."

  "It gets better," he said and nodded in understanding. "I remember when your mother and I had you and Heath and I was busy trying to make a name for myself as a district attorney and worked late every night. We barely saw each other for a few years. It was hard. But you and Drake should be able to spend more time with each other by choice. He doesn't have to work. Neither do you."

  "Drake has the bad shift that no one else wants so he's awake when Sophie is sleeping and is sleeping when she's awake. It's hard enough for him to spend time with her, let alone with me."

  "He can get a different shift eventually. Try to enjoy what you can enjoy and don’t shoot for perfection. It doesn't exist."

  "I know," I said, feeling rather selfish for expecting perfection. "I'll try."

  We watched as Elaine gathered up the toys and stuffed them into the tote bag and then picked up Sophie and returned to the house.

  I took Sophie from her arms and kissed her. She seemed happy and had some color in her otherwise super fair skin.

  "Are you staying for supper?" Elaine asked as she put the toys away. "After all that driving, you need a rest. We're having something delivered. Just some seafood and salad from the local restaurant but you two are welcome to stay."

  I smiled. "That sounds good," I said and took Sophie in so I could change her and wash the sand off her legs and clothes.

  I spent the evening with Elaine and my father, ate a meal with them, and then Sophie and I drove home around eight thirty, after the last rays of sun set across the ocean.

  When I got back home, I was able to put Sophie in her crib without a complaint, her toys surrounding her, the mobile on the crib moving around in a circle, a lullaby playing on the tiny speaker. Her eyes were still closed when I left the room and closed the door.

  I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot decaf coffee and stood in front of the picture window, watching the ocean as the sky darkened and the stars began to peek out of the blackness.

  My cell dinged, indicating a text.

  I picked up my cell from the kitchen island counter and was rewarded with a text from Drake.

  DRAKE: Hey, sweetheart. How are you and my favorite little girl?

  I smiled and texted him back.

  KATE: We just got back from my parents. Sophie is asleep and I'm drinking a cup of decaf and being thankful for the wonderful life I have with you.

  DRAKE: I miss you. I'm off tomorrow so I hope the three of us can try to have some fun and enjoy a few days of peace and quiet.

  KATE: Sounds good. Elaine said we could leave Sophie there overnight so you and I could have a romantic interlude if we wanted.

  DRAKE: That sounds fantastic. Maybe not tomorrow night because I'm sure I'll still be wildly out of sync with your sleep schedule and would probably keep you up all night... wait a minute... ;)

  KATE: You could keep me up all night if you want. I won't complain...

  DRAKE: I just might plan on it.

  KATE: I wait for your plans with bated breath and beating heart. See you in the morning.

  DRAKE: I love you, Mrs. Morgan.

  KATE: I love you, Dr. Morgan.

  I read over our texts and then put my cell away. I imagined Drake sitting in a staff room in the hospital, wearing his scrubs, reading my texts and smiled to myself. He was irresistible in those scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck. I imagined that a number of female staff would be
drooling over him and felt a twinge of jealousy that they would get to enjoy him while I wouldn't. Of course, I had him during the few hours of the day between him waking and going for his next shift. Hopefully, our few days off together would make up for some of the deprivation I felt due to his busy schedule. We'd drop off Sophie at my parent's place overnight so Drake and I could have a romantic date night together.

  I could hardly wait...

  Chapter 4

  DRAKE

  My shift in the ER passed quickly due to a larger than normal number of traumatic brain injuries.

  A single accident led to two patients, each needing my skills to rule out anything more than a concussion. Some idiot decided to ride on a motorized skateboard without a helmet and was knocked down in a crosswalk by a pedestrian. The pedestrian was fine but the skateboarder was unconscious and had a real injury to his temporal lobe. Surgery to relieve pressure on the man's brain was necessary, which kept me busy for most of the evening and watching him overnight. The usual assortment of neuro cases rounded out the evening and by the time my shift was over, I barely realized twelve hours had passed.

  Before I left, I checked over each of my patients from the previous night and spoke with the nurses on the neurosurgery ward to make sure things were under control.

  Then I went to the staff room and had a shower at work instead of waiting until I got home. I wanted to be able to slip right into bed with Kate – and possibly with Sophia if she was in the bed with Kate – without running a shower or making any noise.

  I took a clean set of scrubs I kept in my shared office space and went to the shower facilities set aside for staff and had a quick shower. After dropping off my dirty scrubs in the laundry, I popped into the staff room to grab one of the donuts I saw there during a break and ran into Clint Blackstone, a trauma surgeon, who worked the same shift as I did and who was in a tete a tete with one of the nursing staff.

  "Hey, Drake," he said and waved me over. "Christy was just telling me that she knew your wife back in Manhattan before you two were divorced."

  I glanced at the woman, but didn't recognize her. She was on the short side and a bit portly, with dark eyes and her brown hair pulled back in a bun. If she knew Maureen, she'd know all about our divorce and probably my sordid past in Manhattan.

  "Hello," I said hesitantly. "I don't believe we've met."

  Christy smiled at me – an obviously forced smile. "I worked with Maureen before you two split and I came out here just after your divorce. Maureen put in a good word for me and I've been here ever since."

  "Good to meet you. Well, I'm off for two days," I said to Clint, "so I won't see you until next week."

  "Have a good one," Clint said. "Remember that we're going to play a round of golf someday soon."

  "It's on," I replied and pointed to him. "Next week."

  "Sounds good."

  I smiled and left the two of them in the staff lounge, wondering what stories Christy would tell. I could only imagine that her opinion of me would be bad.

  I left the hospital and walked through the still-crowded ER parking lot of the staff section to my car. Before I could get inside, I heard footsteps and turned to see Christy walking briskly behind me. She was obviously trying to catch up to me.

  "Oh, Drake," she said and was slightly out of breath when she reached my car. "I wanted you to know I hold no ill-will towards you over your and Maureen's divorce."

  I frowned, and opened my door, surprised that she'd followed me all the way out like that.

  "That's nice, Christy, but I don't know why you'd hold any ill-will towards me. It was Maureen who wanted the divorce because she was having an affair."

  I raised my eyebrows, not really caring anymore about what she thought.

  "That's not what she told me. She told me you were a control freak and that she had to get a restraining order," she responded tartly. "I also know all about your wife's unfortunate run in with your ex-submissive so..."

  She let her voice trail off suggestively.

  Damn... The last thing I needed was a busybody like Christy telling people all about my past.

  "So?" I said. "What's your point? You know about my past."

  I couldn't stop myself. She had a lot of nerve following me out into the parking lot to tell me she knew my private business.

  "So, the point is that I know about your past and I wanted you to know that we have a policy of no fraternizing with the staff."

  "I'm married. Happily."

  "That's fine but there can be no missteps with any of the staff. I'm on the hospital's sexual harassment committee and I keep tabs on these things. That's all."

  "What?" I could barely believe what she just said. "What the hell do you mean, you keep tabs on these things?"

  "Exactly what I said," she said and put her hands on her hips. "We have a committee. I'm on the committee. It's made up of people concerned with the welfare of our female staff members. People are aware of your past and have advised the new nurses and the student nurses to beware. There's gossip that you also had an affair with one of your students in Africa when you taught in Nairobi."

  I stood in awed silence for a moment at the self-satisfied expression on her face, and struggled for a response. Then, I realized that there really was no response, so I shrugged, trying hard to keep my calm.

  "That was the past. Now, I'm a very happily married man and father of a toddler. You can rest assured that I have no interest in the nursing staff – or anyone else, for that matter."

  Then I sat inside, slamming the door before she could respond. I gave her a big smile and I heard her talking to me through the window but her words were muffled by the sound of my car stereo. I turned up as loud as I could and while I drove away, I saw her point her finger at me, her face screwed up in anger.

  What a witch...

  She'd obviously taken it upon herself to be the protector of the nursing staff from dangerous threats like me. She was one of Maureen's friends? I could imagine it. Maureen still disapproved of me all these years later, even though I saved Liam's life.

  I drove through the darkened streets of the city, a little faster than I should have, and must have been caught up in a speed trap for as I was flying along the road, I heard a siren and saw lights flashing behind me.

  Damn...

  I pulled over and stopped my car, already reaching for my driver's license and registration so I could easily hand them to the police officer. Then, I put my hands clearly on the wheel and waited for the officer to come over to my open window.

  When he got out of his vehicle, I saw him checking out the car, one hand on his weapon. He walked up to my door and bent down, peering into the car and at me, no doubt sizing me up. I had on a clean pair of hospital scrubs and my hair was still a bit damp.

  I smiled at him. "Hello, officer."

  He checked me out, nodding in response. "Driver's license and registration please."

  I pointed to the dashboard. "It's there. I'm reaching for it now."

  I grabbed it and handed them to the officer and waited. He checked them over and handed them back to me.

  "Dr. Morgan, are you aware you were traveling fifty miles per hour in a thirty mile per hour zone?"

  "I'm sorry, officer. I just got off my shift in the ER at SF General and must have lost track of my speed."

  He nodded, his expression not changing at all. "It's late. You should try to obey the speed limit even this late at night when the streets are empty. I'll give you a warning this time, but the next time, I'll have to issue you a ticket."

  "Thanks," I said. "I'll be more careful from now on."

  He nodded and returned to his vehicle. I put on my signal and merged back into the lane and drove the rest of the way home more cautiously, making sure to keep my speed in check.

  By the time I got home, it was four in the morning. I pulled up in the driveway just as the first faint sunlight was visible along the eastern horizon. I entered the house as quietly as I could
, and stripped off my clothes down to my boxer briefs. I stood beside the bed and just watched for a moment. On the bed lay a sleeping Kate and beside her Sophie, who was facing the wall, her thumb stuck in her mouth, an empty bottle on the bed near her hand.

  I slipped into bed beside Kate, trying not to wake her but she was a pretty light sleeper and woke when I snuggled closer. She rolled over into my arms and I kissed her on the forehead, and pulled her closer.

  "What time is it?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

  "It's just after four thirty. I was late getting out and was pulled over for speeding on the way back."

  Her eyes blinked open at that. "Oh, Drake," she whispered, her voice less sleepy. "What happened?"

  "I had a run-in with a nursing supervisor on the sexual harassment committee so I must have been pressing a bit too enthusiastically on the gas pedal. The cop was nice and let me off when he realized I was an ER doc just getting off shift."

  "What do you mean, you had a run-in with a nursing supervisor on the sexual harassment committee?"

  Then I told Kate about meeting Christy, how she had been a friend of Maureen's in Manhattan and what she told me about watching me for the committee.

  "Oh, God, Drake! What a total bitch," Kate said, her voice filled with sympathy – and a bit of anger.

  "My words exactly," I replied and squeezed her more tightly, so glad that I had her and that she understood. "I told her I was happily married and wasn't interested in the nursing staff."

  "You should go to your supervisor and let him know what she said."

  I shook my head. "I think it's best to lay low.

  "You're too good," she said and kissed my chin. "If it were me, I'd have told her off. What nerve! To follow you in the parking lot and insinuate that she was warning the nursing staff about you? What does she think you are? A stalker?"

  "She thinks I'm Christian Grey and that I'm going to tie up and whip the nursing staff in the broom closet."

  "She wishes," Kate said with a laugh. "She's probably fantasizing about you tying her up."

  "I think she hates me," I said, smiling at Kate's defense of me. "She was Maureen's friend so that's pretty much guaranteed."