Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel)

by Adams, Claire

  So our Dr. Elizabeth Aldridge is still married to Jeff, the bastard! It was the thought that came back to mind, late that night. After several hours of surgery, giving Linda Carter a new kidney as soon as we had retrieved it from her brother, I was absolutely and thoroughly exhausted. When I got home, there was a dish in the oven for me. I had to smile. Tiffany, once again, had demonstrated her home-maker traits. At that very minute, I truly appreciated her attentive friendship. As I was eating, watching the late news, she came out of her room, wiping the sleep out of her eyes.

  “What are you doing up?” I asked; my mouth still full of spaghetti. “Sorry, did I disturb you?” I looked up at her.

  She was wearing her fleecy pink robe and her bunny slippers. I must say she looked as cute as a little doll.

  She sat down beside me. “Just tell me how the surgery went. Talking to the others in the locker room tonight, I think you were the first one to enjoy the privilege of assisting the surgeon.”

  “Maybe so, Tiff. But I can assure you, there’s nothing glamorous about being first in line in this case. It’s just hard work. It’s like you’re going back to your first anatomy class. You need to watch everything the primary surgeon does and be ready to lend a hand at a moment’s notice. It’s really intense stuff.”

  I continued eating, while Tiffany went to fetch a glass of water out of the fridge.

  “What about Dr. Hottie? Did you see him today?”

  “No. And I’m glad he didn’t show up in my scope,”—I swallowed another mouthful—“because I would have shot him on sight.”

  “Why?” Tiffany asked, coming back to sit beside me.

  “He’s a two-timer, that’s why.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  “Elizabeth and I had a chance to talk. I didn’t say anything about having a fling with her husband, of course, but I was curious about their relationship. So, I asked her why she and her hubby didn’t have a private practice. She told me that the responsibilities attached to running a practice are far too overwhelming for her. She prefers practicing in a hospital as opposed to having their own clinic.”

  “That’s understandable, I suppose,” Tiffany agreed. “So, from the way she talked you’ve concluded that they’re still married and living together, is that it?”

  I nodded and wiped my plate with the last bit of roll I had saved. “Yep. Dr. Hottie is definitely living a double life as far as I can tell. His wife is a lovely lady. She is very, very capable. She is quite a caring surgeon and certainly not one who deserves to be cheated on.”

  “It sounds like you’re admiring her.”

  “Yes, Tiff, I do. If she had said they were separated, I would have understood. She doesn’t have to be treated that way. And if they’re on their way to a divorce, all the better.”

  “Do you mean you’d be pleased if he were free?”

  “Not really. I think once men cheat, it’s like a wild animal tasting human blood for the first time; they’ll continue hunting, whether they fall in love or not.”

  “I guess you were right when you said that if he were in your scope today, you would have shot him dead.”

  “Absolutely. I admit I’m partly at fault for falling in his trap. He’s such a gorgeous specimen; I don’t know many women who could resist his charm. But he is also a predator, Tiff, and that’s what disgusts me about him. I am putty in his hands and I hate feeling that way about any man.”

  An hour later, we finally got to bed. It didn’t take me thirty seconds to fall asleep.

  Chapter 21

  The rest of the week was spent without incident. I didn’t set eyes on Jeff and continued working with Elizabeth. Natasha received part of her father’s liver and both of them were doing fine. Lydia, Natasha’s sister, was now on top of the list of liver recipients. This meant that she would have the best chance against millions of other patients at receiving the organ in the very near future. In the meantime, I was to look after her and keep a close watch on her diet and medications. She was a lovely little child. She deserved the best of care, as all children do.

  As I said many times, pediatrics is not for me. I couldn’t handle it emotionally. Many women physicians prefer it, but I truly don’t.

  Friday night, Tiffany and I decided to go shopping for the week’s groceries. We needed a bit of everything. It’s amazing to think how fast we were running out of every day items. From paper towels to dish soap or shampoo, to butter, and bread, we practically had a trunk full of stuff when we got home.

  We were unloading the car, when I saw Mrs. Camborne come out of the elevator.

  “Oh my, girls, am I glad to see you home,” she declared to our surprised faces.

  “Why? What’s the matter, Mrs. Camborne? Are you sick?” I asked, grabbing the last bag out of the trunk.

  “No-no, dear, not at all, but it’s your mom, Heather.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I immediately thought something had happened to Dad and she had phoned our landlady when she couldn’t get me on my cell. “Has she phoned?”

  “No, dear, she’s in your apartment. I had to let her in.”

  I almost dropped the bags I had in my arms. Tiffany stared at Mrs. Camborne and at me in turn.

  We were both stunned. My mother is an imposing woman, of course, but I never imagined she would come all the way to D.C. without phoning me first.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Camborne,” I said, as the three of us walked back to the elevator, “but are you saying that my mother just showed up today and you let her in our apartment?”

  “Yes, yes, dear,” she replied, pressing the call button for us.

  “Why did you do that?” Tiffany asked, and rightly so.

  Apart from Tiffany, who had only seen a photograph of my parents when she first moved in, no one else knew what my mom looked like. She could have been a thief.

  “Well, truly I didn’t want to do it at first, but when she showed me pictures of you, Heather, and then told me about your dad being sick and all, I thought I would let her in, but I stayed with her until I thought I heard the garage door open.”

  As the elevator opened its doors upstairs, I was already seething with rage. There were limits to my tolerance and my mother had crossed them all by showing up at my home unannounced.

  Mrs. Camborne opened the apartment door for us and said she would be downstairs if we needed anything. I thanked her for her kindness and left it at that. As we walked in, my mother stood up. She had been sitting on the couch. Tiffany and I ignored her. I didn’t want to give her an audience. She was there under strong protest, and she was not about to let herself down lightly.

  Tiffany, who had lived with her parents for all the four years it took her to get through university, knew exactly how I felt. Although she hadn’t said a word since questioning Mrs. Camborne in the garage, I knew she was not going to bend backward for my intruding mother.

  “Hello, Heather,” Mom said, coming to the kitchen while we were putting the groceries away, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your roommate?”

  I turned my face and glared at her. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “I told you I’d come up.”

  “Oh yeah, you did. But you forgot the part about phoning me in advance of your arrival, didn’t you?”

  “Oh well, I just wanted to make it a surprise. That’s all.”

  “Thank goodness for our landlady,” I retorted, “otherwise, I wouldn’t have known you had attempted to come in.” I put the last of the veggies in the crisper and straightened up. “Anyway, since you’re here,” I said, turning to Tiffany, “This is Dr. Tiffany Jensen, my roommate and friend. Tiff, this is my mother, Mrs. Williams.”

  “Please to meet you, ma’am,” Tiff said with half a smile draping over her lips. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some studying to do,” she added, retreating down the hallway. “I’ll put the pizza in the oven for us later,” and disappeared in her room.

  Mother stared at her back as she
went down the corridor.

  “Are you telling me you’re eating pizza now?” she asked me defiantly.

  I shrugged in reply. “Do you want a glass of wine?” I grabbed a bottle from the wine rack and opened it. “We’ll have a nice cabernet with dinner.”

  “No, dear, I’ll just have water, thanks,” she said, going back to sit on the couch.

  I followed her with a glass of wine in one hand and a glass of water in the other. I sat in the chair facing her, after depositing our drinks on the coffee table.

  She looked at me as if she saw me for the first time in her life. I wasn’t the girl who had left home for university anymore. I was a woman and a physician to boot. She could not talk down to me anymore, and she knew it.

  “I’m sorry about showing up like this.”

  “So you should be. I never did it to you or Dad. And I certainly wouldn’t do it to my brothers. Your visit is welcome, of course, but a little respect for my privacy wouldn’t have gone amiss. Truly, it was a rude thing to do.”

  “Okay, Heather, I heard you the first time. And it seems that I was wrong. I thought you were probably living amid boxes and laundry racks in the middle of the living room sort of thing. I certainly didn’t imagine your home being the way it is. It’s really nice.”

  “Well, thank you. And Mrs. Camborne has been a great help to get me and Tiff organized. The hours at the hospital are sometimes very long and extremely tiring, so she watches over us.”

  “Yes, that’s what she said. She told me that you two sometimes work until the middle of the night. That must be really exhausting.”

  “And it is, Mom. But what is good about Tiffany and me, is that we like the same things and we do many things together. She is a fantastic cook and a great housekeeper, whereas I am the one who keeps her exercising and studying, so she doesn’t become a couch potato while she’s home.”

  “It sounds like you have it all figured out, haven’t you?”

  “Just about,” I said, getting up from my seat. I knew Tiffany must have been hungry by then and waiting for her glass of wine.

  I went down the corridor and knocked on her door.

  She poked her head through the gap when she opened it.

  “Are you ready for a glass of cabernet?” I asked, grinning.

  “Am I ever,” she replied, coming out of her room. “Besides, I think I better turn the oven on if we want to eat anytime soon.”

  She walked ahead of me and smiled at my mom as she went past the living room.

  “Aren’t you having a glass of wine?” she asked, noting that mom was drinking water.

  “Oh no, dear. I got used to drinking water since my husband’s operation. But thanks for asking.”

  “Okay then, I hope a pizza with everything on it is okay with you, because on Friday night we’re not cooking,” Tiffany declared, pouring herself a glass of wine after turning the oven on. “It’s our movie night actually.”

  “Oh? And what were you planning to watch?” Mom asked me as I returned to my seat after I set three plates and cutlery on the coffee table.

  “We’ve got Netflix, so we’ll choose once we’re ready to watch.”

  “Do you think there is a possibility for us to have the same thing at home?”

  “Of course you can, Mom. It’s not exclusive to D.C. you know.”

  Mother heaved a sigh. “I don’t know about all this modern technology,” she remarked, as Tiffany came to join us. She deposited a huge salad bowl on the coffee table and smiled at my mother.

  “Wow! That looks amazing!” Mom said, throwing Tiffany a gentle smile. “Do you use Grandma’s recipe for the dressing by any chance?”

  I nodded and returned the smile. I don’t know if it was the wine or maybe the fact that my mother had been sorry about her intruding on our lives, but I felt my earlier anger abating considerably.

  “Now, are you going to tell us how Dad is faring since he’s home?” I asked, taking another sip of wine.

  “Sure. He’s doing just fine. As I said on the phone to you the other day, you were right. He’s settled down a lot since his operation. He’s even returned to doing some crosswords in the morning. But it’s in the evening that he gets tired and impatient. The doctor told me that I would have to install a lock on the bedroom door because it’s usually at night that dementia patients get disoriented and try going to places they knew when they were young. He said it’s like sleepwalking. Except that if they realize the door is closed, they give up and return to bed.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Tiffany said. “There are so many aspects to medicine that we don’t know, and will probably never appreciate, that it’s not surprising that there are so many specialists these days.”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “When Heather said she wanted to become a transplant surgeon, I wondered why.”

  “But you know why, Mom, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course, I do. I mean now I do. But back then, it surprised me a little. I thought why not choosing general practice or something less involved or less dangerous.”

  “You mean you were afraid for me?” I queried.

  “Of course, dear. I knew how hard it is for transplant patients to survive. I thought it must be very depressing to lose so many lives during one’s career.”

  “That’s true, Mrs. Williams, but it’s also extremely rewarding when you succeed in giving someone a second chance at life.”

  “Besides,” I added to Tiff’s comments, “we’ve made huge progress in that branch of medicine. Today, we’ve got a lot less rejections than we did even ten years ago.”

  “Why don’t you tell your mom about the two little girls you’ve got in your ward?”

  “Well, as long as it remains between us, maybe I will,” I replied, sniffing the air. The pizza was ready.

  Tiffany smiled, got up and rushed to the kitchen.

  As we started eating, we heard a knock at the door. We looked at each other. We were not expecting anyone else to join us. Mother threw me a querying glance.

  “I’ll go and see who it is,” Tiffany offered, getting up.

  I couldn’t see the front door from where I was sitting. I only heard Tiff say: “It’s for you, Hattie,” as she came back to sit down.

  “Who is it?” I mouthed to her, shooting a glance at my mother.

  I only got a shrug of Tiffany’s shoulders for a reply.

  As soon as I walked down the corridor, I saw him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Jeff was standing in the doorway, a broad smile affixed to his lips.

  My heart jumped in my chest. I would have fired that gun if I had one in my hand. God, the gall of the guy, I thought. Why doesn’t he get under someone else’s skirt for a change?

  Chapter 22

  “Hi,” he said to my frowning brow. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought I would see how you are.”

  “Well, it’s kind of you, Dr. Aldridge, but…” I fell short of completing my sentence when I sensed my mother’s steps come down the hallway.

  “Hi,” Jeff said again, smiling at my mom.

  “Mom, this is Dr. Jeff Aldridge, one of our resident surgeons at the hospital,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest defensively I suppose.

  “Well, very nice meeting you, Dr. Aldridge. I’m Mrs. Williams, Heather’s mom.”

  “Now I know where she gets her good looks from,” Jeff remarked tritely, while I raised my gaze to the ceiling in abhorring tedium.

  “Oh my, thank you, Doctor, how flattering of you to say so,” Mom replied, while I thought, Please, give it a rest, will you?

  “Why don’t you join us for dinner, we’ve just started.” She paused to look at me. I shot her a glare of displeasure. She was taking over my life again.

  “I don’t think so, Mom,” I interposed. “I mean, I know Dr. Aldridge has other plans, I’m sure.”

  “No, not really, Heather,”—why don’t you call me Honey while you’re at it, you bastard—“I had other plans but they fell through, and I would love
to have dinner with you.”

  Why are people so obtuse when it comes to one’s privacy? I felt like slamming the door in his face and dragging my mother to the living room for a serious scolding– I was so angry.

  But, and once again, I returned to being the obedient daughter and let the “dear Dr. Jeff Aldridge” into our home.

  When she saw him come through, Tiffany got up and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “How nice to see you again, Dr. Aldridge. How are you?” she mumbled after swallowing a mouthful of salad. “Let me get you a plate and a glass of wine. I hope you eat pizza, because that’s all we’ve got on the menu,” she added jocularly, while everyone sat down.

  I pointed at the couch to him, where he sat beside my mother. I regained my seat in what had become my favorite chair.

  “So, tell us about your work,” Mom said, rather enthusiastically. “It must be interesting.”

  “I don’t know about interesting, Mrs. Williams, but it certainly keeps one busy.”

  “Yes, my daughter was telling me how she and Tiffany sometimes stay until midnight at the hospital–why would that be?”

  “It’s the nature of the work…” He stopped to take the plate, cutlery and napkin from Tiffany’s hands. “Thanks,” he said, looking up at her and then returning his gaze to my mother. “As I was saying, it’s the nature of the work we do. You can be sick any time of the day or night. A road accident can happen at any time. We simply have to be there for the patients who need us.”

  “But you’re not all attending emergency situations, are you?”

  While he put some salad on his plate, Jeff shook his head. “No, of course not. But take Heather for example, she works in the transplant department”—with your wife; why don’t you say it?—“and when an organ comes in, she has to be there, ready to perform surgery. Mind you it does not happen every day, but in every department, there are times when we have to stay the night.”