Roger's Return

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Roger's Return Page 4

by Davis, Mary


  After RJ finished his hot dog and Roger gave him a little box of juice, the two sat on the floor by the basket of toys. Roger pulled out the truck, and RJ took it from him. He pulled out a car. The little boy took that. Every toy his father pulled out of the box, RJ took until his lap was full. His father got the idea. They were the boy’s treasures, and he wasn’t willing to share. Roger would enjoy watching.

  “Does your mommy have to go into work tonight?”

  “Mama seep.”

  “Yes, I know,” he whispered, hoping it would sink in.

  ❧

  “Yes, Mommy has to work tonight.” Jackie stretched out on the couch and rubbed her eyes. It was time for her to wake up anyway.

  Roger moved over to the couch. “I’m sorry. I tried to get him to whisper, but I didn’t know how.”

  Jackie sat up. “Two year olds have one volume—loud. They talk loud, they cry loud, and they laugh loud.” The laughter was the best.

  “I’m sorry he woke you.”

  It was nice for someone to care about her, but odd just the same. “I need to get ready for work.”

  “I’ll watch RJ. You go ahead.”

  Jackie went reluctantly, not because she thought RJ wouldn’t be okay or Roger would take off with him. She had enjoyed listening to the two of them and had peeked out between squinted eyes at them. A chili dog? That would be a long time in coming. When Roger missed being squirted with the juice box, she almost giggled. She showered and dressed quickly, then worked her hair into a French braid. She wanted to get back out to—her family. She smiled. When she came back out into the living room, Roger sat on the couch reading RJ his favorite book, Inside Teddy’s House. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  She backed up slowly and retrieved her camera. She didn’t have any pictures of the two of them. This, she hoped, would be the first of many. She checked the F-stop and put her fingers on the focus ring until they became two sharp images: Roger and a miniature copy. She stared at them through the lens. Father and son. Her mother used to sit with her like that and read; with her father she would stand next to the car as he changed the oil or replaced the water pump, handing him tools. Eventually she helped him even more. What would this pair do together?

  Roger’s eyes widened in mock surprise as RJ said “ball” and turned the page.

  The shutter clicked as she pressed the button. Both heads came up.

  RJ scooted off the couch and held his arms up to her. “Mama.”

  Jackie picked him up as she blinked back moisture. She had broken the spell, but she had captured the moment on film.

  Roger stood as well and saluted her. “Nurse Jackie ready for duty.” He looked at his watch. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

  “Actually we do. I have errands to run before work.”

  “I suppose calling in sick isn’t an option.”

  “People are counting on me. I want to see how my patients are doing.”

  “Jackie the dependable.”

  She could tell by the way he said it that he admired it in her. She wished he would depend on her and trust her enough to tell her what had happened to him. “Walk us out. I have a surprise.”

  Roger raised his eyebrows and tried to take RJ into his arms but settled for the diaper bag. “So, is this a good surprise?”

  “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

  Jackie opened the door to the garage and stepped into the cool darkness. The light from the house usually lit her way when her hands were full, but Roger flipped the switch, and the room flooded with light. She pulled the side door of her blue van open and dropped her purse onto the floor. “You can put the diaper bag in there too.”

  “So what’s my surprise?”

  She smiled. Probably not what he thought, but he would like it. He always had. “It’s over here.” With RJ still on her hip she walked around Roger to the far back corner. She set RJ down and pulled back an orange plastic tarp from the lump beneath it. “I believe this is yours.”

  Roger stared at the shiny, black motorcycle. “You kept my Harley?” He touched the tail bar and ran his hand over the leather seat.

  “What else would I have done with it?”

  He gave her a sideways glance. “You could have sold it.”

  “It wasn’t mine to sell.”

  “Daddy-cycoe.” RJ stepped on the foot peg and tried to climb aboard. Roger hoisted him up and swung on behind him. “Rrrr. I driving. Rrrr.”

  Roger’s expression softened, and his mouth curved up at RJ’s usage of Daddy. He didn’t realize RJ had no concept of what Daddy meant. It was just a word she had taught him, like any other. Roger would have to teach him the meaning. Good or bad, he would learn that from his father. She could see in her son’s eyes that he was confused over the whole daddy thing. Now there was a person to go with it, and he was trying to process this new information.

  “I don’t imagine it’s been run lately.”

  The gleam in Roger’s eyes reminded her of RJ’s when he visited a toy store for the first time. It was right to keep the motorcycle, though on several occasions in hurt and frustration she had seriously thought about selling it or swinging a bat at it. So here it sat, like Jackie, waiting for Roger. “Every weekend.”

  He looked up. His smile broadened. “You’ve been riding it?”

  “Dad has. He’s driven it at least once a week. He didn’t want the engine or something to dry out.” Her father had diligently maintained it in Roger’s absence. But she knew it wasn’t for Roger that he’d kept it in prime condition. It was for her. His subtle way of helping her preserve her dream of Roger coming back.

  “Can I take it out?”

  “It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

  Roger pushed it out into the driveway with RJ still at the handlebars. RJ giggled when it roared to life and rumbled beneath him. Jackie could picture the two of them on identical motorcycles, tearing up the roads. First, RJ would have to be taught to ride a regular bike. Would Roger be around to do that?

  Roger shut it down. “It runs smooth. John did more than just drive it.”

  Yes, he had. He’d babied it in much the same way Roger had.

  RJ beamed at Jackie. “I drive daddy-cycoe.”

  “You certainly did.” She plucked him off the seat, then turned to Roger who was still straddling the motorcycle. “We need to go now. You two have fun.”

  “Wait.” Roger put the kickstand down and stepped off. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her before she could react. “Thank you.”

  Jackie tottered to her van unsure what to make of it. Her lips tingled. It was calculated, that was for sure. But was she glad he’d kissed her? Or was she angry? She strapped RJ in his car seat and heaved the sliding door shut. Roger was right there when she turned around. She caught her breath.

  “I never thought I’d see my Harley again.” Roger’s eyes were intense and full of appreciation.

  So the kiss was a simple thank you, nothing more. Not, Jackie, I can’t live without you. Or, Jackie, you are everything to me.

  “I’m going to make things right between us. I promise.” He caressed her cheek.

  She sucked in a quick breath. It was a promise she hoped he kept. He had always been so confident. She hoped his confidence wasn’t misplaced this time.

  Four

  Jackie pulled into a parking space at the hospital and shoved the gearshift into park. The deep-seated ache still gripped her insides. She closed her eyes and pictured Roger standing next to his bike in her parents’ driveway sending her off to work. All she could think of, as she watched him in her rearview mirror, was that he was home and she was happy. She had wanted to turn around and never let him out of her sight again. He was back. But could she trust him to stay? Where had he been, and why had he left her? Until he confessed all or proved himself, she had to resist the urge to throw herself into his arms—if she could.

  After dropping RJ at the sitter’s on her way to work, Jackie had bought blu
e and yellow balloons and streamers for his birthday. Still tired, she shuffled into the hospital, willing herself awake and alert. The nap had helped, but it was too short. She could use several more hours of sleep. She hoped Dr. Hoon was not on duty, but it was unlikely. It was destined to be a long shift. Maybe she should have called in sick.

  As she sat at the nurses’ station on the fourth floor thumbing through patient charts, a shadow fell across the blood pressure readings she was reviewing. Roger? She looked up but was disappointed to see Ramona and Dixie leaning over the counter, Cheshire cat grins on both their faces. Why should she assume Roger was around every corner and would show up everywhere her heart wished? He had been back for less than two days, and already she was getting used to his being around or at least the thought of him there. It was all so confusing.

  “Out with it.” Dixie’s bobbed blonde hair framed her face in a way that reminded Jackie of a pixie. “Who was the mysterious hunk in black last night?”

  Black? Had Roger been in black? He was wearing all black today, and yesterday at the park, he’d had on his black leather jacket. His new color? It suited him, dark, mysterious; it had always looked good on him.

  Three more people gathered at the station, waiting. Jackie glared at Dixie. Had she told everyone? When Jackie had returned to work over a year ago, she had moved to a different hospital to avoid having to explain something she didn’t understand herself—Roger. If she told them, they would want to know why she hadn’t talked about him before and where he’d been and a ton of other questions she couldn’t answer.

  “Is he some sort of secret admirer?” Ramona cocked her head to one side.

  “Well, he’s not very good at the secret part because Jackie knows him. And he had flowers for her.” Dixie raised her pale eyebrows.

  A teen volunteer, a candy-striper, sighed.

  How long had Dixie been watching them?

  Ramona turned to her. “What kind of flowers were they? Long-stemmed red roses?”

  Jackie did not like being at the center of this. “Don’t you all have patients to see and other duties?”

  They turned to her and hesitated long enough to take a breath. Evidently they realized she wasn’t going to be sucked into their conversation and resumed without her.

  Dixie answered. “I think they were roses. I couldn’t tell the color in the dark, but they looked as if they could have been red.”

  “He’s not a stalker, is he?” Karl asked her directly, a handsome blond orderly studying to be an EMT.

  Jackie rolled her eyes. Hardly. Stalkers had to be around, and Roger certainly hadn’t been until now.

  “Jackie wouldn’t go with a stalker. No, he was someone she knows.”

  Did she ever know him? She flipped the chart closed and stood. “Well, I have patients to look in on.” She had already checked on her patients, but seeing them again was better than hanging around the nurses’ station while everyone talked about her. She wasn’t needed in this conversation anyway.

  “We’re not letting you go until you ’fess up.”

  They had blocked her in. She could always jump the counter and leave them stunned. “I really hate to ruin your romantic fantasy. You’re enjoying it so much.”

  “Come on. Tell us.” Dixie was like a dog with a bone. Once she got hold of something, it was tough convincing her to let loose.

  Now if Dr. Hoon had been around, Dixie would have to let it go. Where was Dr. Hoon when she needed him? Maybe if she suggested that he could be coming down the hall any moment, Dixie and the others would give up. That wouldn’t work. They would only corner her later. She could tell them Roger was just a friend, but the roses wouldn’t let that one fly. She took a deep breath. “Roger.”

  “Roger who?” Dixie demanded.

  “My husband.” She slipped by the astonished group and down the hall. She ducked into the room of the most demanding and irritating patient on the floor. When she came out a few minutes later, Karl was waiting for her.

  Karl’s broad shoulders were slumped, and he kicked at a speck on the polished linoleum floor. A puppy dog told to go home looked happier than he did right now. “I didn’t know you had a husband. I’ve never heard you talk about him.”

  To talk about Roger would be to explain Roger, and that was something she couldn’t do. It had been too painful to tell people her husband was missing and presumed dead. She held up her left hand to show her wedding ring. “Coming up on four years. We’ve sort of been—separated.”

  “And now he wants you back.”

  That was the impression she had. “He wants to be part of our son’s life.”

  “Then he would have brought a toy not flowers.”

  The candy-striper approached. “Dr. Hoon wants to see you in his office.”

  Dr. Hoon disliked candy-stripers. They were pretty decorations that stood in the way of real medicine. That he sent one to summon her was not good. Jackie headed for the doctor’s office. He didn’t like to be kept waiting. He had been trained in the Marine Corps and didn’t realize the staff members were not soldiers. She took a deep breath and knocked on his door. He called her in.

  “You wanted to see me.”

  He sat behind his desk of authority with his hands steepled. “I believe in getting right to the point. You have always been a good nurse. But after last night’s performance I wonder if this whole hospital has a decent nurse in it.”

  She had missed several of Dr. Hoon’s requests last night and had to ask him to repeat himself time and again. He had been exasperated by the end of the night.

  “I chose this awful shift because you are one of the few competent nurses I can work with.”

  He picked her shift? He wasn’t like poor Karl, was he? She wanted to blurt out, I’m married! “I was having a small family crisis yesterday. It won’t happen again.”

  “I would hope not. People are depending on us.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? We have their very lives in our hands. This isn’t like flipping burgers. What we do here matters.”

  “I know.” Was that all she could think to say?

  “What if we’d had a real emergency?”

  Last night had been less than uneventful. But Dr. Hoon didn’t want to hear that. “If we had, it would have pushed all other thoughts aside as always. I have no doubt my full attention would have been on the patient. But since there was no emergency, my mind wandered a little.” She couldn’t help herself. “I will strive harder in the future not to let my personal problems interfere with my concentration here.”

  The hard lines around his mouth softened a bit. “I’m glad to hear that. Not about the troubles, you understand.” He turned his focus back to the file in front of him, dismissing her.

  She needed to say more. “My husband was missing, and now he’s back.”

  “I’m glad he’s safe.” He didn’t look up from his papers.

  “We’re sort of working on getting back together.” At least she hoped so.

  He looked up over the top rim of his glasses. “I’m not interested in your personal problems as long as they don’t interfere with your concentration at work again.”

  Jackie leaned against the doctor’s door after closing it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why should she think every man was interested in her now that Roger was back? Who would she suspect next, the seventy-year-old male food server in the cafeteria who wore a hair net? Her shift stretched longer and longer before her.

  ❧

  Jackie parted her hair to start a French braid down the back, one section over the next, and suddenly stopped. Roger had always liked her hair down. Did he still? It was Saturday, and she didn’t know if he would show up at the park or not. She let her hair fall and pulled up each side into a barrette. RJ was old enough not to pull her hair, and she didn’t have to go into work.

  Roger had taken over her dreams last night. He had held RJ and been every bit the father RJ needed, and he’d held her as well, caressing away her fears
and doubts. It was okay he had been away. She understood it all. She had been safe in his arms. But it was only a dream. Dreams did little to fill the empty place that had long since taken up residence in her. They only made her more aware of the void Roger had left. A longing deep inside for more—for things to be the way they were before. Everything was so uncertain now.

  She tucked peanut butter crackers, raisins, and two juice boxes in the diaper bag. RJ was upstairs being spoiled by his grandparents, eating pancakes, and watching cartoons with Grandpa. The Saturday morning ritual.

  Her mother had on her yellow rubber gloves while she loaded drippy dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. “Did you get the balloons and streamers? If not, I can run to the store today or tomorrow and pick up some.”

  “I got them yesterday. Blue and yellow.”

  “Yellow? I thought you were going to get red.”

  “If you want red, Mother, get red.” She didn’t care. She was too tired to fight over the trivial.

  “You don’t have to snap at me. It doesn’t matter what color you bought.”

  Exactly. RJ didn’t care, so why should her mother? But she hadn’t meant to lash out. Fatigue and the uncertainty of what to expect when she saw Roger, coupled with wanting to get out of the house before her parents grilled her, had caused her to snap at her mother. She knew nothing more than she had the other night, and it would only turn into a big fight. They’d never liked Roger. Had they been relieved to have him out of her life?

  A few months ago, her mother had invited a coworker over for dinner, telling Jackie she needed to accept that Roger was never coming back and move on with her life. The poor guy could feel the tension sparking across the table. After he left, she had told her parents she was moving out. Her mother promised not to interfere anymore and asked her to stay for RJ’s sake. Now she wished she had stood her ground and had her own place. “I’m taking RJ to the park.”

  “So early? The fog hasn’t even lifted.”

  “The sun will burn it off soon. I promised him. He’ll have all the equipment to himself.” She headed for the living room but stopped short at her mother’s sharp question.

 

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