Healing the Doctor's Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  “Lauren, are you all right?”

  Jake thought she might be thinking of her ex-husband. Despite what she said about not being in love with him, was this sadness due to her ex and the fact that tonight he’d returned to her memory if not her life?

  She looked up and opened the purse. It took a second for her to find what she was searching for. She pulled a small piece of paper out and passed it to him. Jake turned the lamp on next to him and looked at the paper. It was a photo of a little girl. Jake wasn’t good at estimating the age of children, especially from a photo, but he’d say the dark-eyed child was about four or five. She smiled up from the paper. Jake smiled back at her.

  “She’s beautiful. Who is she?”

  “My daughter.”

  She spoke so quietly, Jake wasn’t sure he’d heard her. “You have a daughter?” he confirmed.

  “Had.”

  Her voice cracked. Jake came forward in his chair, shifting to the edge of the sofa. Lauren reached for the photo. He handed it back and she returned it to her purse.

  “She died three years ago.”

  “How? From what?” His medical training went on alert.

  “Bacterial meningitis,” she said. “One day she was fine and that night, I was rushing her to the ER. Twenty-four hours later, I was no longer a mother.”

  Jake moved. He couldn’t stop himself. He was next to her in a second, putting his arm around her. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t.”

  “This is why you’re leaving the city?” he asked.

  She nodded quickly. “After Naliani died, Richard and I had nothing to connect us. We’d grown apart, wanted different things in life. Mostly, I wanted to shut myself off from everyone and everything. If it hadn’t been for my friend, I’d probably still be hiding in bed, refusing to go anywhere or see anyone.”

  Jake knew exactly what she meant. That’s how he’d been when she came into his life. He didn’t know at the time that she understood his experience. She knew what he was doing because she had been there. She understood the destructiveness of his actions and she wasn’t going to let him continue.

  “Naliani, that was her name?”

  Lauren smiled quickly as if a thought about the child had come to mind. “We called her LeeLee. When she was learning to talk, she couldn’t say her name.”

  Jake squeezed her shoulder and pushed himself back onto the sofa. He still sat on the edge, in case he needed to go to her quickly.

  “Speaking of that, Jake, I can’t stay here much longer. I have to make decisions on what I’m going to do and where I plan to do it.”

  Jake didn’t want to have this conversation now. Her emotions were too close to the surface.

  “You’re a really intelligent woman. And you know that today is not the time to think of making a major change.”

  “We both know this decision isn’t being made at this moment. The day I met you, I told you I was planning to leave. Seeing my ex-husband tonight and telling you about Naliani don’t play into the decision.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jake said. “Your mother and your child died within two years of each other.” It wasn’t a question, but an observation.

  Lauren didn’t say anything.

  “That has to play into the sense of urgency you suddenly feel.”

  She dropped her head, an indication that he’d found his mark.

  “Promise me you’ll stay until Cal returns.”

  “I can’t agree to that. I don’t know when he’s due to come back,” she said.

  Neither did Jake. For a change, she was the vulnerable one and he wanted to keep her safe.

  “You said we were more than friends. This friend wants to be your companion.”

  “Role reversal,” Lauren said and began to laugh.

  Immediately, Jake recognized that it wasn’t a mirthful laugh. She was not going to be able to stay in control of her emotions. She probably hadn’t fully dealt with the loss of her child or the dissolution of her marriage and tonight both had confronted her without warning.

  He reached for her, pulling her out of the chair and into his arms. “Breathe,” he whispered. She trembled against him, struggling to get control of herself. “Breathe,” he repeated and kept repeating it until she finally calmed.

  Jake didn’t let her go. He cradled her closer to him.

  * * *

  ONCE A DOCTOR... Lauren thought. She couldn’t help keeping records. It was part and parcel of being in medicine. You needed to document every detail of a patient’s care. Even though Jake didn’t fit the strict guidelines for a patient, in her mind, he was one.

  Lauren had a few minutes before meeting Amy, so she used them to update her file on Jake. It wasn’t very long, but she noted the changes she’d seen in him, both psychological and physical. She was entering his progress on her computer when the screen announced she had a video message.

  Clicking over to it, she saw it was from Jake’s brother, Caleb.

  “Hello,” she said cheerfully.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Doing well,” Lauren said. She knew he was getting the preliminaries out of the way. He was really interested in how Jake was doing. Caleb was as good-looking as his brother, although there were marked differences in their appearances. Caleb was rugged looking, sun drenched, hair lightened by working outside. She could easily see him on horseback galloping into the sunset after saving the day.

  Jake was more serious, more private or self-possessed, keeping everything inside instead of allowing the world to determine who he was and what he was about. Lauren didn’t know if he was different when he could do sports, taking risks for the thrill of it, but she thought he’d still have a persona that he allowed the world to see, but not the inner man.

  Somehow she wanted to know that inner man.

  “How’s Jake adjusting?”

  Finally, she had something good to report. “I think he’s coming along. I coaxed him out of the apartment. We’ve been walking in the park. And recently we went for a long drive into New Jersey.”

  Caleb smiled. His face transformed. She thought it was a family trait. Jake’s did the same, although his smiles were a rarity.

  “How’d you do that?”

  “I gave him no choice.” She paused a moment. “Secretly, I think he wanted to get out, but his routine was set and he didn’t see a reason to change it. But I’m a change in itself, in his routine, that is, so he didn’t fight with me for long.”

  “Great. I am so glad to hear it.”

  Lauren left out that she let him drive. She didn’t know how Caleb would react to that. Maybe he would think she was being reckless. After all, she’d been in this job for less than three months.

  “Have you talked to him?” she asked.

  “Not this week. He’s still a little curt with me.”

  “He doesn’t mean that,” she jumped in.

  “I know.”

  Caleb put a hand up as if the two of them were in the same room and he was trying to stop her from saying something.

  “Jake has been down on himself so long, I don’t think he knows he’s doing it,” Caleb said.

  You didn’t have to be a doctor to figure that out, Lauren thought.

  “Maybe he’ll be talking to me by his birthday,” Caleb said.

  “When is that?” Lauren asked.

  “Next month. We used to always spend our birthdays together. Mine is a month later, so we’d get together on the halfway point.”

  “I think he’s getting better. If he hasn’t come around by then, hopefully he’ll be a lot different when you get back.” Lauren held out hope. She understood that Caleb was concerned about Jake and his progress.

  “If that happens, I’ll call you a miracle worker,” he said.

  Cale
b rang off then with his words still in her mind. She wasn’t a miracle worker. She was only coaching someone into doing things he wanted to do and helping him to see the opportunities that lay before him.

  Lauren knew she wasn’t supposed to get attached to her patients. Since most of hers were children, she offered hugs as therapy. She wondered if that would work on Jake.

  * * *

  LAUREN COULDN’T START with hugs, but love might work. At least the love that was shouted over a ball and net.

  “Those shoes won’t do,” Lauren said. “You need sneakers. Those are mainly deck shoes masquerading as sneakers. I’ll get them.”

  She ran up the stairs and came back with a pair of black tennis shoes. Lauren didn’t give him a chance to protest. She grabbed the slip-on shoes he wore and pulled them off, then quickly started to push his feet into the black sneakers.

  “You’re going to have to help me here,” Lauren said. She couldn’t get his feet in the shoes.

  Jake didn’t like needing help, she knew, but he complied. She tied the shoes and stood up. “Time to go,” she said, cheerfully. She didn’t want to look at his face. She expected it would be dark with rage. That didn’t matter, but by the time the day was over, she expected he’d be really angry with her.

  “Where are we going?” he asked as she sped along the highway. “And at this hour.”

  “Someplace you’re familiar with.” It was midnight on a Thursday, the slowest night of the week. Lauren pulled into a driveway.

  “Oh no,” he said. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re going to play. I have a reservation.”

  “Who are you planning to play with?”

  She parked the car and got out. Coming around to where Jake sat, she opened the door.

  “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

  “I’m not going in there. What am I going to do at a tennis court, watch you play?”

  “You’re going to play,” she said.

  “I am not.”

  “Must you always fight every suggestion I have?” Lauren asked. “We’re doing this, so get out of the car.”

  Jake slid out and they headed for the door. Lauren carried their equipment.

  “I cannot play tennis, remember? I only have one arm.”

  “So you’ll play with one arm.”

  “How? I have a two-handed backhand.”

  “Correction,” she said. “You had a two-handed backhand. Now you have a one-handed one.”

  “Who wants to see someone playing with one hand?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” she told him. “We have the place to ourselves. There are no other players. So, no need to feel self-conscious or to think people are staring at you.”

  “Lauren, I’m right-handed.”

  “Learn, Jake.”

  They were on the court. The lights were bright and Lauren set her bag down and pulled out two racquets. One was Jake’s. She handed it to him. He hesitated, but took it finally.

  He looked confused. “It’s been restrung.”

  “Why are you surprised? You haven’t used it in a while. It needed strings.”

  “Do I take it you can play?”

  “Until I took yours to have it strung, I’d never had one in my hand. This means we’re even. I’ve never played and you have to use your left hand.”

  She popped the cap on two cans of balls, dropped three of them at his feet and walked to the other side of the court.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  Jake stood there. He hadn’t moved since she left his side.

  “Too scared to try?” she asked.

  “Calling me a chicken will not work,” he shouted.

  “How about a has-been, someone who’s not willing to try again?”

  She threw a ball in the air and hit it with her racquet. It crashed into the net.

  “It’s not a baseball,” Jake stated.

  “Then teach me what to do.” She tried the same thing, tossing the ball up and hitting it with the racquet. The result was different. It sailed over the net like a fly ball and hit the heavy curtain at the back of the court.

  Jake shook his head. He reached down, took the balls and stuffed them in his pockets. With the racquet in hand, he moved to the middle of the court.

  “See how I’m standing?” he called.

  Lauren nodded.

  “You have to stand this way. Bounce the ball. Let’s not start with tossing it. Then step in and hit it.”

  He demonstrated awkwardly. He had to both bounce the ball and then hit it with the racquet. As a right-handed person, the action was unusual, but the ball went over the net and practically landed at Lauren’s feet.

  “How am I supposed to hit a ball back when you put it right there? I can’t move fast enough.”

  “That’s the point of the game,” Jake said. “Hit the ball where your opponent can’t reach it.”

  He came to her side of the net and began teaching her what to do, how to hold the racquet, how to stand, where her feet should be, where she should strike the ball. Before she knew it, an hour had gone by. They got drinks of water.

  “Are you tired?” Lauren asked.

  Jake shook his head. “What about you?”

  “I could go on, but I think this is enough for the day. We can come back tomorrow.”

  She smiled when she said that. She’d been right in thinking that he missed his sports and there was no reason he couldn’t return to some of them. He wouldn’t be any top-ranked player, that was for sure, but still. Lauren didn’t know if he had been in the past. He’d enjoyed playing tennis and that was the goal she had in mind, that he enjoy the things he’d done and no longer thought he was able to do.

  She knew there were activities that would be totally off the table, but there were many that he was still capable of participating in.

  “Thank you, Lauren,” Jake said as they entered the apartment. “You proved that you were right again. I enjoyed playing tonight. Even though it felt strange to use my left hand and I had to adjust my backhand and forehands to the opposite sides, it felt good to be back on the court.”

  Lauren’s smile was ear to ear.

  “Then we can go again without argument.”

  “Do I really argue against everything you suggest?”

  “Saying good-morning might be an exception.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AMY REYNOLDS WAS an on-time person. When she ran Lauren’s office, she was always in early and stayed late. She had a ready smile for a crying child and a sympathetic shoulder for a frantic parent. While sewing was a hobby she loved, nursing was her life. The two were going shopping and having an early dinner.

  Jake was closeted in his office when she left. She told the housekeeper where she was going in case she was needed. It was her day off.

  “You told him?” Amy said as they waded through reams of fabrics standing like spiral lollipops. They’d detoured into a tiny fabric shop.

  “Almost everything.”

  “What did you hold back?” Amy asked.

  “I didn’t mention that I was a doctor,” she said. She also didn’t mention how she felt about Jake. She’d told him they were more than friends, but the fact that she wanted even more than that was her secret alone.

  Amy pulled down a bolt of shimmering gold lamé.

  “What are you going to make with that?” The fabric was beautiful and fell over Lauren’s hand like a gold waterfall.

  “Well, a nanny and princess have been done, but we can do a seventies disco dancer or a beauty queen with a fancy sash. What do you think?”

  “No, thank you. I’m done with costumes and characters.” That is except for the persona she was portraying.

  “When are you going to tell him the whole truth?” Amy asked. She wasn’t
a fan of Lauren’s deception. Lauren justified it by the small changes she saw in him. He had much less stress now than when she first met him. He was working with the hospital. And the night at the movie, when she touched his right hand, his finger curled.

  “I don’t know. He’s asked me to stay on until his brother returns.”

  “When is that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Amy stopped in the act of pulling down another bolt of fabric. Looking over her shoulder, she had a perplexing expression on her face.

  “He asked you to stay open-ended?”

  “Amy, I’m not an airline ticket.”

  “That’s what it sounds like. Return at some future date to be determined.”

  While that sounded a little better, it was still like not having a date when the job was finished. Lauren reminded herself that it was a temporary job and by rights she should be gone already.

  “He is making progress,” Lauren said. “We went to the movies last night and during the film I saw his finger move.”

  “Wow,” Amy said. “That is a really good sign.”

  Lauren knew her friend had switched from seamstress to nurse.

  “What did he think?”

  She put her hands on her hips and scanned the shelves. “I don’t think he’s aware of it.”

  “You didn’t tell him?”

  “The timing didn’t seem right. We started talking about Richard, who we also bumped into at the movies. He has a new girlfriend.”

  “Looks like you, doesn’t she?”

  Lauren thought for a moment. The two of them were the same height, same hair color, same complexion. It came as a surprise that the woman with Richard, Amber, did look like her.

  “Men can be like that. They go for the same type of woman all the time.”

  “Women aren’t like that?” Lauren asked.

  “Basically, they want the same type of personality, but the looks don’t usually mimic their previous partner. Think about Jake. How does he compare to Richard?”