The Family Doctor

by Bobby Hutchinson

  He thought about that. “You don’t think you’ll have other children?”

  She shook her head and heard herself say in a level tone, “I can’t have kids.”

  “I’m sorry.” His deep voice was gentle. “For a woman who so obviously enjoys children, that’s too bad.”

  Again, he surprised her. She’d thought he might say, as so many others had done, Oh well, you can always adopt.

  And of course it was true, she could. She had, in a sense, with Eliza. But Tony seemed to understand that not being able to grow a child in her own body had nothing to do with adopting. The two were separate, just as she supposed the love parents felt for their children differed from one child to the next. Not more, not less. Just different.

  “Your ex is a fortunate fellow to have you mothering Eliza,” Tony continued. “I’m a single father, and I know how tough it is to raise a daughter by yourself. I’m lucky because I have a large family around, and now my mother’s living with us. But before that happened I went through a series of housekeepers.”

  “Your mother adores McKensy.” Whatever else Dorothy was, she’d come across as a doting grandmother.

  “I’m grateful to her for being there when I can’t be.” Tony raised an eyebrow and a small smile came and went. “You met my mother, Georgia said.”

  Kate nodded.

  “Then you understand why it isn’t always easy to explain to McKensy that Mom’s attitudes aren’t the ones I want her to copy. You must have noticed my mother can be difficult to be around.”

  His openness surprised and touched her. It was hard to know how far to go with this, though. “Dorothy seems to be quite angry,” Kate ventured tactfully. “I wonder if she’d agree to some counseling? It can’t be easy for her to feel that way all the time.”

  “Counseling’s crossed my mind several times, but she’d never go. Besides, what good would more talking do?” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Mom already wears everyone out with talking.”

  “It’s a difficult step to take.” Something in her was relieved to know that Tony could view his mother in an impartial, albeit loving, manner. His brother Wilson didn’t seem to see her clearly at all. “It can’t be comfortable for her, feeling such strong negative emotions all the time.”

  “What worries me is that McKensy will pick up some of her negativity.”

  “I doubt it. I think kids come with their own personalities pretty well intact,” Kate remarked. “I used to worry that Eliza would take after her father in some of the ways I found difficult, but that hasn’t happened. She’s very much her own person. And from the little I’ve seen of your daughter, I’d say she has a delightful personality all her own.”

  “It’s comforting to hear you say that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s impossible to be impartial about your own kid, isn’t it?”

  She nodded agreement. “Raising kids is a challenge, but it’s also the best game in town as far as I’m concerned. Which is lucky, seeing how much time and energy it takes.”

  “It’s a full-time job, all right,” he agreed. “Sometimes I envy the couples I see on Sundays at the park or the science center. It has to be easier, having a partner you can talk stuff over with, someone who cares the same way you do about your kid.” He added quickly, “Not that my ex doesn’t care about McKensy, she does. We’re good friends. It’s just that she’s never been around to do the actual parenting.”

  “Well, Scott’s there every day,” Kate said with a shrug, remembering the previous night and the birthday party. “But it doesn’t seem to help much.”

  Tony waited, but she didn’t go into detail. She didn’t want to sound like a typical ex-wife listing the shortcomings of the person she’d once chosen to marry. “It makes for a certain amount of conflict,” she admitted.

  God, that was the understatement of the century. The truth was, Scott managed to drive her to the brink of homicide. She wondered what Tony would think if she admitted to having fantasies about hitting her ex in the head with a tire iron.

  She happened to glance at her watch and leaped to her feet. “My gosh, look at the time. I’m late for a meeting.” An hour had sped past in what she could have sworn was ten minutes.

  “Don’t run to get to it,” he counseled. “You could slip on a candy wrapper in the lobby,” he said with a wry grin. “I was on my way to a meeting that morning and I was late, which is how I ended up flat on my back in here.”

  “I’ll keep that advice in mind.” She gave him a wide smile and a wave. “I enjoyed our conversation, and I really enjoyed meeting McKensy.”

  “Thanks. Come again when you get a minute, okay? I never realized how mind deadening it is to be a patient in this place.”

  “You’ll be going home soon, won’t you?”

  He shrugged and held out his hands, palms up. “How would I know? These doctors never tell you a damned thing.”

  She was laughing as she raced for the elevator.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MAYBE IT WAS LYING IN BED this much that made him so damned horny. Or maybe it was the perfume Kate wore, a light, flowery scent that reminded him of summer picnics with his first real girlfriend. Whatever it was, he’d been uncomfortably conscious of her the whole time she was in the room. And that ridiculously short skirt hadn’t helped any. Not that women with legs like that should wear anything but short skirts.

  He wasn’t complaining, though, and it was hardly the first time he’d felt aroused when Kate Lewis was around. Usually he’d been grateful that their differences of opinion irked him enough to take his mind off her sex appeal.

  Still, there was something irresistible about the contrast between her wide, open smile and that way she had of tilting her head down and looking up at him as if she was just a little shy. Her body didn’t hurt, either. It curved in and out in all the right places, and he’d had to make a special effort to appear totally businesslike and professional around her.

  But today McKensy had made him forget about professional behavior. The rascal had charmed Kate, and he was positive that his daughter would be giving him a rundown on how super Kate was, and how pretty, and didn’t she have green eyes, and wouldn’t it be nice if he took her out to dinner?

  McKensy had been on a campaign for some time now to get him married. When she was little, she’d talked about her mommy coming back to live with them, but in the past couple of years she’d shifted focus. Now she simply wanted him to find her another mommy.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love Jessica. And she adored Dorothy. But an absentee mother wasn’t enough, and already McKensy was balking at Dorothy’s conservative ideas about fashion and hairstyles. He’d heard her asking Georgia about periods and how old she’d been when she started, for God’s sake.

  Marrying him off wasn’t a bad scheme in theory, Tony thought. But the reality was that the few women he’d dated since his divorce weren’t interested in taking on a man with a young daughter. They had career goals, busy lives with no room for a needy little girl.

  Besides, he’d tried marriage once, and it had been such an emotional roller coaster, such a series of crises and disappointments and confrontations he didn’t think he’d ever get himself mired that way again. It wasn’t worth it, even to make McKensy happy. Even for regular sex, he added with a wry grin, although that particular aspect was appealing.

  Tony shifted in bed, wincing when his ankle hurt. Of all times to be laid up, this had to be the worst. He had a busy medical practice, he was still new at his job here at St. Joe’s, still trying to implement the changes he thought necessary to move the medical center into the technological age.

  He didn’t have the full support of the hospital board; there were a couple of mastodons who considered him too young, too radical, too confident. And at the same time there was this unholy mess going on in his personal life.

  Fumbling in the bedside drawer, he found his wallet. In it was the airmail letter that had upset the whole family. It had arrived several weeks ago,
but he’d avoided telling his mother about it until yesterday, the morning of his accident.

  It was because of this letter and the ensuing row with Dorothy that he’d been late for work. He’d raced in, hurrying to a meeting with the sound of his mother’s angry voice still ringing in his ears.

  Now he unfolded the fragile airmail pages and scanned the words, even though he knew exactly what they said.

  His father’s handwriting had always been large, bold—easy to read. In this letter, it was cramped and crooked. In places it faltered, as if the person writing had wavered.

  Dear Tony,

  I hope all is well with you, as it is with us, and that McKensy is over the chicken pox. I remember when you were a nipper and had them, how itchy you were. I’ve enclosed a funny card for her. Betsy picked it out. She’s better with cards than I am.

  How’s the new job panning out? Chief of staff sounds like a load of responsibility, and I know you’ll do a fine job for St. Joseph’s. They’re lucky to have you. I’m mighty proud of you, lad. I tell all the old codgers down at the pub about you and your success.

  Now, there’s some news I need to give you. Betsy and I are planning a trip to Canada. As you well know, I’ve never come back since I left your mother, but now it’s time. If it’s okay with everyone, I want to meet all you kids. It’s hard to think of you as grown-ups with young ones of your own. Even though you sent photos, I still remember each of you the way you were when last I saw you. Probably works both ways, so be prepared for a shock. I’m a lot older than I was when you were little. (Joke.)

  We’ll be coming in six weeks’ time and staying at a hotel one of Betsy’s friends recommended, the Barclay on Robson Street. Seems it’s a nice cozy place without costing the earth. I don’t want to cause upset for any of you, Tony, but it’s past time I came home for a visit. Aren’t any of us getting any younger.

  If I thought it would help, I’d drop your mother a line, but I know from past experience it’ll only upset her. I’m relying on you to know what’s best where she’s concerned. Sorry to put the weight on you, lad, but I don’t know what else to do.

  Looking forward to seeing you soon,

  Your affectionate father,

  Ford O’Connor

  Tony remembered in vivid detail the last time he’d seen his father. He was eleven. It had been a hot summer afternoon, and he’d been thrilled when Ford had taken him down to the Fraser River fishing. He’d felt he was one up on Wilson, getting to go off with Ford alone, even though he knew Wilson didn’t like fishing, anyway. His brother preferred going to concerts with Dorothy to doing things with Ford.

  They’d baited the hooks and hung over a piling with their rods in the water, and that’s when Ford had told Tony he was going away.

  “Your mother and I have our differences,” Ford had begun after much throat clearing and fiddling with the line. “She’s a fine woman, but I’ve always been a disappointment to her, son, and try as I may, I can’t make it right. I am what I am, and I can’t be what she wants. And I can’t live with the failure any longer—it’s taking the heart out of me.”

  Tony had known that his mother and father didn’t get along. He’d lain awake many nights, squirming in sympathy as he listened to Dorothy’s shrill voice detailing every one of his father’s faults, from his smoking all the way up to the fact that, in her opinion, he didn’t earn enough money to support his family the way she thought they ought to be supported, and why didn’t he have the gumption to try and better himself. Didn’t he know he was a poor example for his sons, and wasn’t it lucky the children had her father to show them what a man should be?

  It was so many years ago, but Tony shuddered even now, remembering the empty feeling in his gut, the physical hurt in his chest when his father blurted, “I’m going away, son, to Australia. My friend Tommy has a sheep farm there and he’s loaned me the fare and offered me work.” Ford’s weather-beaten face twisted with emotion and he swallowed hard. He laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezed, the closest he ever came to an embrace. “I wish I could take you with me, boy, but I can’t. Your mother would fight me to the death on that one. Besides, you’re a clever boy. It’s best for you to stay here and get your education.”

  Hot tears had burned behind Tony’s eyelids. To keep from crying, he’d concentrated hard on a tugboat churning up the channel with its load of logs. He’d hated his mother at that moment with a fierceness that consumed him.

  Ford had cleared his throat once again and coughed hard. “Damn fags. Your mother’s right—they’re a filthy habit. Don’t you ever start, promise me that.”

  Tony had promised. He’d kept that promise. And he’d never gone fishing again.

  “Now, I’ll write you, I’ll send it care of your auntie Lully, so you’ll always know whereabouts I am. You give her a call in a week or ten days and she’ll have a letter for you. Look out for your sisters, son. And in a few years, when you’re finished your schooling, you can come and be with me if you want to.”

  The next morning when Tony woke up, Ford was gone. Georgia and Judy bawled their eyes out, and Wilson, bossy and self-important, phoned their grandfather, who rushed over and comforted Dorothy by assuring her she was better off alone.

  The letter Ford had promised arrived fourteen days later, and subsequent letters followed regularly, one for each of the children. Dorothy had a fit of hysterics when she found out, and forbade them to have any contact with their father or their auntie Lully, Ford’s sister.

  Tony defied her, and so did Georgia. They both kept up a steady correspondence with Ford, and once they were teenagers, they’d visited their aunt Lully as often as they could sneak away. She’d died two years ago.

  When Tony was older, Ford told him about the money he’d sent regularly to Dorothy for their support, money Dorothy never admitted receiving. As the years passed, Ford also cautiously told Tony about Betsy, the much younger woman he lived with. Ford never said, but Tony knew his mother had heard about Betsy and stonewalled a divorce, which kept Ford from marrying the woman he so obviously adored.

  Dorothy was still legally Ford’s wife, and she’d never stopped hating him for what she labeled his desertion of his wife and family. Her bitterness and anger had centered around a ring of her father’s. She’d given it to Ford at their wedding and felt he should have returned it to her when he left. The subject came up with tiring regularity, and when it did, Dorothy castigated Ford to her adult children, just the way she’d done all during their growing-up years.

  The situation between his father and mother had divided his family. Wilson grew up siding strongly with Dorothy, and Judy refused to take sides, agreeing with her mother when she couldn’t avoid it.

  Tony and Georgia sympathized with their father, and several times they’d openly said so to Dorothy. The ensuing scenes were horrific.

  When Dorothy came to live with him, Tony had told her he respected her feelings, but he wouldn’t allow any negative comments about Ford in front of McKensy. Ford was her grandfather, and that was that. He wouldn’t have his daughter torn between warring camps.

  Dorothy had promised, but of course she hadn’t been able to keep her word. Her feelings about Ford were like an abscess that never healed, and even before she learned of his plan to visit, she and Tony had had several confrontations about his relationship with his father. Tony couldn’t help but worry what effect Dorothy’s deep-seated anger was having on his daughter.

  Shortly after the letter arrived, he’d told Judy and Wilson about the impending visit. Ford had, of course, written to Georgia.

  Tony said that what his siblings decided to do was their own affair, but he was hosting a dinner at a downtown restaurant in honor of his father and Betsy, and they and their kids were invited.

  All hell broke loose when Tony told Dorothy about the visit and the dinner. He explained that he wanted McKensy to get to know her grandfather. Dorothy had thrown a fit of hysterics the morning of his accident, and hadn’t me
ntioned Ford or the visit again, but Tony knew she would the moment he was home.

  “Here’re your meds, Doctor. Dinner will be along in a short while. Is there anything I can get you?” The nurse handed him the paper cup and the water, waiting like a warden to be sure he swallowed the array of pills.

  He recognized Tylenol 3 and Rithonol, but the other one eluded him. He gave up trying to identify it and gulped the pills down. In answer to her question, he felt like asking for a voucher for a peaceful life, but he knew this particular nurse was lacking a sense of humor, so he kept quiet.

  When she left, he opened the box of cookies Kate had brought, smiling at the hand-drawn certificate she’d enclosed. Certified egg free, she’d printed with a gold pen. He munched several down, thankful that he had something to kill his appetite before dinner arrived. The food here was not inspiring, in spite of Rene Lalonde and his innovations.

  If the opportunity presented itself, Tony wondered if he’d ask Kate’s opinion about the problems in his family. She’d been open with him about her unusual living situation, her love for Eliza and her problems with her ex. What sort of an absolute fool would force a woman like Kate to divorce him?

  A total idiot, he concluded, reaching for another cookie.

  She could be difficult, though. In his dealings with her he’d recognized an intractable stubborn streak. As he lay there, he thought about the conversation they’d had concerning his accident, and then he fantasized for a while about certain salacious aspects of being married to Kate, but even in his imagination, the idea of bringing her into the hornet’s nest of his family deterred him, so he revised the imaginary relationship into a hot affair. Really hot.

  Cool it, O’Connor. Maybe the aide who delivered his dinner wouldn’t notice his erection. He reminded himself that long ago he’d decided to put his own personal needs on hold until McKensy grew up. Life was complicated enough without adding a lover into the mix.