Healing the Doctor's Heart

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Healing the Doctor's Heart Page 4

by Shirley Hailstock


  “You sound good though,” Amy said.

  “Thanks.”

  Amy didn’t have to say it. Lauren knew how she felt and how she sounded when the two parted after she sold the practice. Amy had tried to cheer her up the same way Lauren was trying to get Jake to return to the world. It just hit Lauren that the two of them were similar in that respect. Both she and Jake had had traumas to their lives and both had retreated into themselves. Lauren was by no means over hers, but her clean start in another city was her plan to get her life back on track.

  “So what’s going on?” Amy cut into her thoughts.

  “I need you to get me something and I need it tomorrow.”

  “That sounds mysterious. What is it?”

  “A traditional upper-crust nanny’s outfit, complete with straw hat, umbrella and carpetbag.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Amy said. There was a question in her tone.

  Lauren could practically see her friend staring at the phone as if that would help her decipher what was going on in Lauren’s mind.

  “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “I...I don’t know. I wanted you to try something different, not go completely... off course.”

  “I’m not going off course and I’m not really going on a stage, at least not a Broadway one. I’m going to throw Jake Masters for a loop or make a fool of myself trying.”

  Amy laughed, her voice a high soprano.

  “It’s a good thing we live in New York. Here you can get anything you want practically at any time of the day or night.”

  “Great. Call me and tell me where to meet you.”

  Talking to Amy always made Lauren feel better. She didn’t know what she would have done if Amy hadn’t been there to help her through the last year. When Lauren got settled, she’d try to coax Amy out of New York and the two of them could begin again as doctor and nurse.

  * * *

  THE MAIL ARRIVED at the same time every morning. Lauren collected it and separated the circulars and advertisements from the letters. Jake didn’t get any personal mail. Correspondence like that probably came through email. She could almost see him hitting the delete key without responding to anything. The letters that arrived were mostly invitations to medical, hospital or corporate functions. He refused them all. If he did open any of the envelopes, their contents often ended up in the trash. If a bill slipped into the pile, he had her send it to his accountant.

  When she finished the mail, she found Jake sitting in the great room. He had a book lying open on his knees. Lauren had the feeling it was a prop, there for show only. He was using it to avoid having to speak to her. After two weeks, she was learning his moods and his self-protective instincts. She challenged them at every turn.

  “Reading anything interesting?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t like it,” he said.

  He looked at her, but since he’d come down to breakfast and found her wearing a nineteenth century British nanny’s outfit, carpetbag at her side, he’d said nothing about her attire. Lauren didn’t mention it either. She knew it was eating at him to know why she was dressed that way. She’d let him stew over it until curiosity forced him to ask.

  “You have no way of knowing what I like to read. My tastes cover a variety of subjects.”

  “Anything above a first-grade level?” he mocked.

  “Only when absolutely necessary,” she joked. She was sure he got her meaning, although his face showed the static emotion of nonchalance. Lauren told herself that he was getting used to her, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. She guessed he spent most of his time alone except for the people who worked for him. She hadn’t seen him talk to anyone since she’d been here. While he treated her with disdain at times, she figured he truly wanted her around.

  She’d tested that theory two days ago, by steering clear of him. She stayed in her room or remained in the office for hours. He’d find an excuse to come and see what she was doing. A smile curled her lips when he did this because, whether he wanted it or not, he needed human contact.

  “Do you have any friends?” Lauren asked.

  Jake’s head came up quickly and he looked at her. “Of course I have friends.”

  “Why don’t they come by or call?” She glanced at his cell phone lying on the coffee table. “Why don’t you call them? The only people I’ve seen or heard are here to bring something, clean something or take care of you.”

  “You don’t know that I haven’t called my friends.”

  Lauren gave him her brightest I-know-something-you-don’t smile. “You have a lovely voice,” she said. “It’s deep and thunderous at times. I imagine you could accompany yourself with one hand on that beautiful piano.” She glanced at the gleaming yet silent instrument. “But I’ve never heard you talking on the phone or speaking to anyone when I’m not in the room.”

  “You listen?” he accused.

  “Yes,” she said. “Part of my job is to make sure you’re all right. If I did hear anything unusual, I’d have to check it out. So far...nothing.”

  “The truth is most of my friends are doctors and they have very few hours to gab on the phone, much less visit.”

  Lauren knew that wasn’t true, but she held back any comment. Jake was making excuses.

  “Will they be at any of those functions you get invitations for? One is a fund-raising ball. You could go there—”

  He put up a hand to stop her. “I will not go.”

  His voice held finality. To punctuate his words, he grabbed his phone as he passed the table and headed out of the room.

  Lauren watched him go. His spine was straight and his shoulders back, his steps so stiff she thought he might break.

  Anger was an emotion and it was hissing from a crack in Jake’s armor.

  Lauren smiled.

  * * *

  FIRE HER. IN HIS past life, he’d never put up with someone who talked so much, bullied him and delved into his personal life the way Lauren did. She was relentless. No area appeared to be off-limits to her. She observed everything. How could she know he never talked to any of his friends? She couldn’t be monitoring his phone. Jake was extremely tech savvy and he knew his phone was secure.

  And the nanny outfit! What was that all about? He’d commented on her not needing to act like a babysitter and here she was in a long dress and boots, her hair done up in an old-fashioned knot.

  Nothing about her face was old-fashioned though. The smile was all Lauren’s, lively, and never out of place. And all too often Jake found himself getting lost in those wide, expressive eyes of hers. They were her best feature, the one that had him taking her to lunch on the day they met.

  He’d retreated to the home gym, but only stood in the room looking at the long wall of mirrors. His grandmother had them installed when his mother was young and wanted to be a dancer. She’d studied for years, but eventually gave up the idea for nursing. The mirrors were still there as a reminder. Jake had the exercise equipment installed when he started working. With such long hours at the hospital, he had little time to travel back and forth to a gym.

  He surveyed the room. Everything a modern gym could offer was available to him here. The problem he had was that with only one hand, most of the equipment was little more than giant dust collectors.

  The door opened and Lauren stepped in.

  “Yes?” he asked. This was the one place in the apartment that she had not yet invaded.

  “I wondered if you’d mind if I used the equipment here sometimes?”

  “The apartment is yours. With the exception of my rooms, you may use any room you like.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly and started to back out.

  “Lauren,” he called.

  She looked up. The sun hit he
r hair again and images of her on the stairs came to him. He felt bad that he’d treated her unkindly. He wasn’t that sort of man, at least he hadn’t been before the accident. She was here to help him, keep him from being alone. It was unfair that he treated her like an unwelcome guest. The truth was, he enjoyed having someone around to talk to. He hadn’t known that until she came, and he was surprised she hadn’t run away screaming after the way he behaved.

  “Isn’t it time for our walk?” he asked.

  * * *

  AND SO THEIR routine began. Except for their daily walks in the park, it was mainly an indoor routine. Lauren looked after everything that required two hands, kept his schedule and sorted his mail. A personal trainer came daily to help Jake exercise in the gym. The housekeeper did the cleaning and oversaw the food deliveries and preparation of meals.

  Jake got himself up, showered and dressed. She didn’t know how he put his clothes on without help, but he always appeared in his doorway fully dressed and buttoned. She’d volunteered once to tie his sneakers since she noticed the laces were undone. He allowed it, but she felt his discomfort.

  “What’s it like being a kindergarten teacher?” he asked out of the blue one day as she was massaging his arm. He hadn’t asked her to do it, but she’d learned the signs of his pain. Without saying anything, she just began to soothe the aches he felt. At first, he jumped at her touch, but eventually her contact didn’t draw that reaction.

  “A kindergarten teacher,” she said. This was a question she was prepared for. She was a pediatrician and her clientele was primarily under the age of sixteen. She knew how children acted, both when they felt good and when they were ill.

  One of Lauren’s sisters owned a day care center that also operated a preschool. Kindergarten was the last class for the kids before they began regular school. “It’s fun most days. The kids are loud, unruly and eager when they first arrive. Many of them have been to nursery school, so they come knowing a lot. They have to test me as a teacher.”

  “You should see the look on your face,” he said.

  Lauren immediately altered her expression. She didn’t want to give anything away.

  “You obviously like being a teacher. I guess you’re planning to do the same thing when you leave here.”

  “I am,” she said, although she felt her guard come up. “What’s it like being a surgeon?”

  She felt him stiffen, knowing that would be his response.

  “Did you always want to go into medicine?”

  Lauren stopped massaging his arm. She ran her hand down the length of it, using a nonverbal signal that she was done. She could tell his discomfort had lessened. Moving around him, she sat on a sofa opposite him. Jake looked her directly in the eye. He had a piercing look when he was angry, but that wasn’t the expression she saw now.

  “Like most kids, I went through a series of professions I wanted to do when I grew up.”

  Lauren smiled, remembering her own choices. “What were they?”

  “Fireman, pilot, truck driver.”

  “Truck driver?” she laughed.

  He smiled. Lauren liked seeing that smile. Lately, she was seeing it more and more. She wondered if it was her presence that brought it out or if he was coming to terms with his injury.

  “Did you ever drive a truck?” she asked.

  “Once. I was seventeen. At that age, remember, you can do anything.”

  Lauren didn’t acknowledge that.

  “I backed it into the side of a building,” Jake said. “And there went that career.”

  Both of them laughed.

  “After that I knew I never wanted to do that again. I finished high school and college and went to med school.”

  “I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

  “Nothing life altering, although I did meet other med students who were there because they’d lost a loved one and had a calling,” he said.

  “So, how was it for you?”

  He took a moment before answering. “I’d graduated from college and had a job working in economic forecasting. I was bored to death, and during lunch I walked by the med school and went in. I sat down in one of the lecture halls and was so engrossed in the study that I stayed until the class ended and talked to the professor.”

  “He convinced you to enroll?”

  Jake shook his head. “I convinced myself. I felt like this was where I was supposed to be.”

  Lauren watched him closely. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused somewhere over her shoulder, back in the past to that lecture hall and the man explaining medical procedures.

  “I wanted to be that person. I wanted to know how everything worked and how to fix it if it didn’t work properly.”

  “So you did have a calling,” she stated.

  This time Jake’s eyes focused on her. “I had a calling,” he said. The surprise in his voice told her the revelation had just come to him.

  A moment later, all the progress they’d made in getting Jake to open up was ripped away. Jake glanced down at his arm, then abruptly got up and without a word left the room. Lauren had never been a companion and didn’t really know what her patient needed. Not her patient, she corrected herself. She thought they were moving forward. He was talking more, accepting her company and even taking the initiative to join her at times.

  Yet when he sank into depression over his arm, she was clueless what to do. She’d made suggestions, but he hadn’t taken any of them.

  Getting up, she followed him into the kitchen. He appeared to be making coffee.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked.

  “I’m perfectly capable of making my own coffee,” he snapped.

  Lauren nearly jumped at the force of his words. “I’m not the enemy,” she said, just as emphatically.

  He whipped around. Instinctively, she stepped back. He stared at her for a second, then his shoulders dropped and the fight went out of him.

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

  She went to the cabinet where he stood and took down the mug he liked to use. Setting it on the counter, she stepped back and spoke softly. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling. I’ve never lost the use of any body part. In sports and dancing, my body does what I tell it, adheres to my commands.”

  “I can’t explain it,” Jake said.

  She didn’t expect him to. Lauren watched as he filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker. After placing the carafe in the machine and the prepackaged pod in the designed pocket, he closed the lid and hit the brew button. The entire operation was efficiently orchestrated, as if he’d done it all his life.

  Lauren had the feeling he was showing her that he was self-sufficient. She no longer felt he was trying to get rid of her, only letting her know that he wasn’t a toddler. He could stand on his own without falling down.

  * * *

  JAKE FROWNED WHEN Cal’s name and image appeared on his ringing cell phone. Obviously, his only brother wanted to check up on him.

  “I’m fine, Cal,” Jake said drily, instead of the standard greeting. Cal called each week, always asking about his health. As a structural engineer, Cal was working on a building project in Colorado. Jake had the suspicion that he took the job to force Jake to change from the recluse he’d become.

  “Good morning to you too,” Cal replied. “How’s Lauren? Have you fired her yet?”

  “She doesn’t work for me. So, as she’s reminded me several times, I have no right to fire her.”

  “I’m sure you tried,” Cal laughed.

  Jake didn’t respond.

  “Have you thought of talking to her?”

  “Talking to her?” His voice level rose slightly. “She seems to come with batteries that are on perpetual charge mode. I can’t get a word in and I’ve tried.” Th
e truth was he did talk to Lauren. If he didn’t, she’d force him to answer questions all day.

  Cal chuckled. Jake could see the humor, but willed himself to keep his face straight.

  “Other than that, how are you doing?”

  “I already answered that,” Jake said.

  “What about the pain in your arm? Is it any better?”

  Jake didn’t want to admit that he had pain, but Lauren had helped with that.

  “She’s good at massages,” Jake said.

  “Massages?”

  Jake heard the question in his brother’s voice. “My arm, Cal. She massages my arm. Before you left, I told you what she’d done in the restaurant. She’s been doing it here too.”

  “Well, that alone is reason to let her stay. I know how much pain you were in. Is it less now?”

  “Yes,” he said, not explaining the sharp decrease he’d experienced in his arm since Lauren put her magic fingers on him.

  Caleb didn’t say anything for a minute. Jake could hear a muffled sound in the background.

  “Sorry, Jake, I have to go now. I’ll call you again next week.”

  “You don’t have to keep checking up on me,” Jake told him.

  “Sure I do. We’re brothers and one day we can talk about something other than your arm. Bye.”

  Jake clicked the end button. He remembered when his conversations with Cal had nothing to do with his arm. The two talked about sports, medicine, their jobs and the places in the world where Cal worked. Cal was always cautious, the planner. Being an engineer suited him, but the brothers had always been close. Jake was the daring one. Cal was more reserved, but they loved each other. They’d had the usual sibling rivalry, but Cal always supported Jake in his choices. Never did he think their conversations would be reduced to Jake’s medical needs.

  At least now they had Lauren to focus on. He thought about her and how she’d helped his arm. She had the ability to make his pain go away temporarily. Cal had joked about Lauren’s massages, as if there was something between them.

  Never, Jake thought.

 

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