Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel)

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Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel) Page 21

by Adams, Claire


  The skating rink hadn’t changed one bit since I had left for university. The land belonged to an old fellow who loved skating. When his sons were born, there was no way he would drive them thirty miles to the nearest city rink every weekend. So, he decided to clear part of his backyard (a whole acre of it) and to dedicate it to making a skating rink out of it in the winter. Thirty years later, the whole neighborhood would gather from time to time to skate on his rink. Our families were some of his guests. We just had to give him a call saying we were coming, and he would leave the gates open for us.

  Dad didn’t recognize the place at first, yet as soon as John shod him with his skates, he perked up and asked, “Where’s George?” George was the owner of the rink. “Have you phoned him that we were coming?” He looked at Eliot.

  “Yes we did, Dad. Are you okay to skate with us?” He put his hand on his shoulder.

  “Of course I am, son. I’ll beat you to the post yet, you no-good-for-nothing!” he exclaimed jocularly. I loved those lucidity moments of my dad. They were going to be very precious memories for me. For all of us, actually.

  As we began skating–my dad in between my two brothers–I turned and took several shots of him. He even smiled at me for a second or two.

  Then, all of a sudden, his face became a blank mask. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. However, my brothers knew it would happen. They immediately grabbed his arms and skated with him back to the bench. A few minutes later, Dad asked why we were sitting there. “For goodness’ sakes, men; let’s give this ice another go, shall we?” And up he went.

  That evening, we couldn’t talk enough about Dad’s skating feat. Throughout a marvelous Thanksgiving dinner, we chatted, rather quietly for Dad’s sake, about the future and the possibility of my returning home.

  “At this point, I don’t think it’s even worth mentioning,” I said in answer to John’s query. “I still have five years of residency to do after my internship. Then I’ll have to see which is the best transplant hospital for me. If they grant me the privileges then I’ll move, otherwise, I’ll have to stay where I am at the time of my residency.”

  “What are you talking about ‘privileges’; is that like an authorization to practice there?” Eliot was curious.

  “Yes, exactly like it. Every practicing physician in a hospital has privileges–the authorization to practice in that facility. It is a privilege because the hospital pays for everything on your behalf and becomes responsible for your actions. They insure you for millions–just in case you have an accident during an operation. If you make a mistake and a patient under your care dies, the insurance will compensate the family, but you can kiss your career goodbye.”

  “Does that mean you could be out of a job because you made a mistake?” my mother asked. “Isn’t that a little harsh?”

  I shook my head. “Not if you kill your patient, Mom. It’s much better than being thrown in jail, I think.”

  “Couldn’t the family sue you–a civil action or some such thing?” John asked.

  “I suppose they could, but generally they don’t. The insurance would have compensated them handsomely and I don’t think any lawyer would gladly try fighting such complicated case in court.”

  “Besides, it would cost too much to the family,” John added.

  The evening was nearly drawing to a close when the phone rang. I had a hunch that Jeff was calling. I was right. He was on the line. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to be drawn back into that nightmare.

  “It’s for you,” Eliot said as he came back to the living room.

  “You can take it in Dad’s den, if you want, dear,” Mom suggested.

  “No, that’s fine, Mom. I’ll take it in the kitchen. No problem.” I was already up and getting the receiver off the hook.

  “Hi there,” I said somewhat cheerfully. “What’s up? Has the hospital caught on fire?”

  “No, Heather, it hasn’t. I…I mean I just…I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Okay. Here I am. How are you doing?”

  “Not well. You didn’t tell me that you intended to leave. What’s that all about? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because I don’t think I owe you an explanation every time I want to go somewhere, do I?”

  “No, of course you don’t. But I thought we were friends.”

  “Listen, Dr. Aldridge, friends trust each other and they don’t chase one another. You just stay put and I’ll see you when I get back!”

  I was about to hang up when I heard him say, “Please, Heather, don’t!”

  I put the receiver back to my ear. “Okay. Just take it easy. I’ll be back on Monday morning. Don’t worry. I’ll be looking forward to the next ice-cream cone, alright?”

  I heard him laugh. I exhaled a sigh.

  “Can I come to pick you up at the airport?”

  “No…I mean, I think it will be better for me to take a cab. I’ll see you on Monday. Okay?”

  “You sure it’s what you want?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Dr. Aldridge, otherwise, no dessert for you next week!”

  I heard my two brothers burst out in loud laughter.

  “Have a good night, sweetie,” Jeff said, almost in a whisper, and hung up.

  I put down the receiver and marched back into the living room. I glared in jest at my two best friends. “You two are going to pay for that somehow!”

  “But who’s this Dr. Aldridge?” Janette asked, her eyes going from me to Eliot to Mom and to John.

  “He’s a wonderful fellow,” Mom replied. “I met him when I was in Washington. He’s just a very nice man. He’s lost both his parents to dementia and he was very helpful with the information he gave me.”

  “Why were you angry at him?” Alice asked me.

  “Oh it’s just because he’s got a tendency of chasing me like a puppy and I hadn’t told him I was leaving for the weekend.” I looked at my mother. “You remember when you were at my place, Mom; he came knocking and just invited himself.”

  “No-no, dear, you had every intention of kicking him out to the gutter. I was the one who told him to join us for dinner.”

  “That’s because he can be such a pest sometimes,” I uttered in my defense.

  “Maybe Eliot and I should pay you a visit and have a little tête-à-tête with Dr. Aldridge. What do you think?” John asked me.

  I had to laugh. Throughout high school every time I came home complaining about a boy that wouldn’t leave me alone, the next morning my two brothers would walk me to school and have a “little tête-à-tête” with the young fellow. It usually turned out fine, but today was different.

  “I would love to see all of you in D.C. one of these days. It’s not too long of a drive I think.” I looked at Eliot. “Maybe after the baby is born?”

  “I guess we could do that,” he replied. “Maybe we could rent an RV and travel across country for our next holiday.” He looked at everyone around the table. And then in one burst of agreements, they all chipped in with suggestions. It sounded as if they were going to pack their bags in the morning.

  Talking about packing one’s bag; on Sunday afternoon, it was my turn to do so. My plane was scheduled to take off at five o’clock. The family met for brunch at a local restaurant; we didn’t want Mom to cook again for the rest of the weekend. We made plans for my coming for the baby’s birth–before April 20th if possible–and talked some more about the six of them (plus one) coming over for a week during the summer. I promised to make arrangements to rent a house for them. Anyway, there was a lot of water to go under the bridge before any of these things would happen. I had to see what would happen with Jeff first. Not that my life depended on Jeff’s movements, but I couldn’t set the matter aside either. I had to face it: I was involved with a married man. If his divorce came through, then I would have to revisit the whole thing once again.

  Chapter 30

  After a wonderful weekend, I was glad to be back in D.C.
It was home for me now. They say, “home is where the heart is”, and this was where my heart resided. I loved my apartment, Tiffany and her pink bathrobe with her bunny slippers; I loved my work and the feel of winter on the East Coast. It snowed a lot, but it was definitely a milder climate than Omaha. The harshness of blizzards in the region was remarkable.

  I stuffed my beanie into my carryon as soon as I reached the arrivals’ hall in Dulles Airport. Although it was getting late, I felt light on my feet. Somehow, I knew things with Jeff would work out. Perhaps I was to be proven wrong, but my little voice wasn’t often fibbing.

  Tiffany was expecting me with a plate of vegetable ravioli in the oven and a glass of Merlot on the kitchen counter.

  She burst into a happy dance, so excited she was when I came through the door. I couldn’t help myself–I took a picture of Tiff in her pink robe and bunny slippers. If one day I was lucky enough to have a private practice or a desk to call “mine”, I would place that photo in evidence. It would remind me not to take life too seriously.

  We sat down to eat as soon as I had taken a shower and changed into my PJ’s. Tiffany then told me that Jeff phoned her on Friday night asking–no, demanding–where I was. Tiffany had told him that it was none of his business.

  “You see, Hattie, I didn’t want him to take the next plane to Omaha. If I gave him your mom’s phone number, he could easily find your address and impose himself on your family. He already did enough imposing when your mother was here.”

  I had to agree with Tiffany. “Yes, I can see him doing that. He actually phoned my brother–or he got Eliot on the phone when he called the house–and asked if I was there. Eliot told him that I would be spending the weekend at home. In fact, I was glad Jeff had my brother on the other end of the line. He knew then that I would not be easily accessible. Besides, if he had gotten my mom on the phone, she would have invited him to come over, for sure.”

  “But where did he get your Omaha number do you think?”

  “Probably from the admin office where they keep the next-of-kin’s numbers and addresses in file.”

  “He’s worse than a stalker, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know about ‘worse than’ one, but he’s certainly on the verge of stalking me. He’s persistent; I’ll say that for him.”

  “Did he phone again while you were there?”

  “Oh yes. Again, he got Eliot on the line. But I talked to him and told him that I’ll see him on Monday when he offered to pick me up at the airport.”

  “Yes, I’d say he’s becoming a real bother,” Tiffany concluded as she continued eating.

  Jeff wasn’t moving on, he was running on the spot and I didn’t like it, because it prevented me from concentrating on my career or even my personal life.

  On Monday morning, Jeff was waiting for me in the park across from the hospital. Tiffany was with me. As soon as she saw him, she told me that she’d see me at home tonight, even though we had agreed to meet at the bar around the corner from the hospital after work.

  “Hey you,” I said to Jeff as I neared him. “How was the weekend?”

  “Don’t ask. I didn’t know where you had gone. I thought you had given up on me.”

  This was not what I wanted to hear. His possessive trait was showing. Not good! “Well, as you can see, I didn’t. I wanted to go and see my father. I needed to get away for the weekend. That’s all.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I told you why on the phone, Jeff. I don’t have to account for my movements to anyone. If I decide to leave on the spur of the moment, I will only tell you if my departure should concern you in any way. Otherwise, you won’t hear from me.”

  “Is that all I am to you? Just a passing fancy? Someone to have sex with whenever you please?”

  He was going too far. I glared at him and marched away from him. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm. I stopped and said, “Let go of me, Jeff. The day you’ll start acting your age and the day you’ll decide to change your marital situation, then we can talk. Before that, stay away from me!”

  He released my arm but didn’t say anything. I was as mad as a hatter. I hated to have harsh words with anyone, but Jeff was getting a little too much for me. As I strode to the hospital’s entrance, I saw Corey and Tiffany waiting for me in the foyer.

  “If you ever wanted a helping hand to get the message across to that overbearing jerk, please don’t hesitate to call on us,” Corey declared.

  I immediately thought of John and Eliot. I shook my head and smiled. “Thanks, Corey, but I think all Dr. Aldridge needs is to get his act together. He’s lost a son.”

  “You mean it was his kid?” Corey looked shocked.

  “Yes, it was his son. That’s why he’s all over the place. He’s trying to move on, but I don’t think he’s doing it the right way.”

  “If he would stay away from Hattie, he would gain a lot of ground,” Tiffany remarked.

  At that same moment, I turned my head slightly to see Jeff come through the main doors. “Come on, guys,” I said, “Let’s get upstairs before Dr. Kerry lists us as missing in action.”

  With a giggle and a chuckle, we rushed into the first elevator just as its doors closed on Jeff.

  “Well done!” Corey said out loud, addressing the Elevator God. “Just in time. Perfect.”

  Tiffany and I had to smile. Corey was truly a sweetheart.

  Throughout the day, Elizabeth and I hardly spoke except when we needed to discuss a patient’s condition or an upcoming surgical procedure. I thought I saw her dab her eyes a couple of times when she thought I wasn’t looking. The poor woman; she was broken hearted. I truly felt bad for her. I kept recalling how I felt when the little boy died in my arms. And she’s carrying a similar picture in her mind day in and day out, I mused. And now, she’s losing the only person who could have made it all better for her. It was truly a tragic situation for both of them.

  When seven o’clock came around, I could hardly believe it was that late. Lunch had even gone unnoticed. We had to do a complete prep on a new patient. He was to receive a new liver in the next couple of days and since he wasn’t an in-patient, we had to give him our full attention throughout the tests. Next, one of the ER doctors called to have us attend a surgery on an organ-donor patient who had died from a fall on a construction site.

  I had never done that sort of organ extraction before. This was an exceptional case. We had to rush the patient down to the dungeon and call on Jeff to assist in the procedure. Frankly, it was a little uncomfortable to find the three of us working in such close quarters. Yet, I managed to divorce my mind from those incongruous thoughts and concentrate on the job in hand. Sending the organs to various hospitals was a job in itself. We had a helicopter waiting on the roof to take the man’s heart all the way to New York, while all of the other vital organs were dispatched to other facilities in Washington, D.C.

  In short, it had been a long day. But I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to join my colleagues at the bar as we planned.

  They were all sitting around a couple of tables, already drinking their second beer by the looks of things, when I pushed the door of Hostel open. As soon as my butt hit the chair, Corey was up. “Glass of red, my lady?” he asked.

  “Yes, please!” I said–I think for all the bar to hear.

  As I looked around, I immediately recall our little sexual interlude when Jeff and I spend some twenty minutes in the washroom making love. The incident seemed to have occurred so long ago.

  “Here you go, Dr. Williams,” Corey said, as he deposited a large glass of red in front of me; taking me out of my reverie instantly.

  Of course, the conversation soon veered onto the subject of our organ extraction procedure. Tiffany wanted to hear all about it.

  “You know, when Dr. Roberts came back from the dungeon, he said that it was mind-boggling. He said that you and the two Aldridge’s had been working so well together that it would have been worth making a video o
ut of it.”

  “It didn’t feel that way, I bet,” Gerald suggested.

  “It must have been difficult for three surgeons to work on tandem like that,” Lisa, another intern noted.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “You remember when you guys watched me obeying Dr. Elizabeth Aldridge the other day? Well, it was a good thing that she put me through that little exercise, because today, I knew exactly what she wanted me to do and when. We actually didn’t much care for what Dr. Jeff was doing across the table. He was doing his own thing. But, he was not missing a beat either.”

  “How are those two doing, anyone knows?” Gerald asked, his eyes traveling around the tables.

  “Yeah, there are rumors floating about the place that they had a fight the other night. You heard about that?”

  All eyes were on me.

  “Yes, I have. I was right outside the locker room door when they were having that famous argument. They have lost a son and it’s hard for both of them to find a way to cope with the loss.” And that was all I wanted to say on the subject. I couldn’t give them any more explanation than that. Nor did I want to put my private life under my colleague’s scrutiny.

  Corey was good enough to change the subject by relating a story of what happened to him that weekend. He had gone skating with some friends when a girl literally fell into his arms. They both tumbled to the ground and had a good laugh, which led to Corey asking her on a date. He passed his phone around for us to see what the lady looked like. She was a knockout! Truly, Corey hit the mark (or was it “the ice”?) with that one.

  As we were talking, Tiffany pulled on my sleeve and jutted her chin to the door. Jeff came in and sat at the bar. I raised my gaze to the ceiling. Fortunately, my companions hadn’t noticed him.

  Obviously, he had seen me, although I had my back to him as he came in. A few minutes later, and not to make it too obvious to my friends, I got up under the pretext of getting another drink for Tiffany, Corey, and me. Lisa told me that she wouldn’t have another one. “Two’s my limit,” she said, giggling, “Otherwise, I’ll be nursing a hangover for the whole day tomorrow.”

 

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