How Much I Feel

by Force, Marie

  “Don’t worry about that for now. This is the priority. I want this guy—and his research—on our team. I want to see our hospital get the credit when his work pays off. If you can help to make that happen, I’ll consider you for the director position that’s recently come available. Taryn has decided to stay home with her baby for the first few years.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. On day two, I’m being considered for a massive promotion? Day two is definitely shaping up to be a vast improvement over day one. “That’d be amazing. I’ll do my very best for you and for Dr. Northrup.”

  “I have no doubt. You seem like a very responsible young woman, and we’re lucky to have you on our team.”

  If only you knew where I was around this time yesterday . . . “Thank you. I won’t let you down, sir.”

  “Excellent. Feel free to come and go from the office as needed to accomplish the assignment. I’ll let Mona know you’re working off-campus so she’s aware. Just make sure she has your cell number so she can reach you if need be.”

  “I will.”

  He stands to leave and reaches my door before he turns back, seeming slightly chagrined. “When I told Mrs. Augustino that you joined our team, she mentioned how difficult it is to get a reservation at Giordino’s. Our anniversary is coming up. I thought it might be nice to surprise her.”

  “I’ll take care of that for you. Just let me know when you’d like to go.”

  “Thank you so much. It’s nice to know people with influence. I’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He walks out of my office, leaving me momentarily stunned by our conversation. Not only did he encourage me to help Jason, but he made it my only assignment for the next two weeks and dangled a dream promotion should I succeed in rehabilitating the good doctor’s reputation.

  “Holy moly,” I whisper before I reach for my cell phone to text Jason. Big news. Mr. Augustino has made you my only assignment for the next two weeks. He wants me to help you make a case to the board at their next meeting.

  He responds right away. Whoa. That is big news. I sort of got the feeling he didn’t want me around any more than the board did.

  Not the case. After hearing your side of the story, he seems to have changed his opinion. He’s very interested in you and your cutting-edge research and having a world-class pediatric neurosurgeon on his team.

  Okay, so maybe I’m building him up a bit, but after the reception he received yesterday, he has to be feeling pretty low. I don’t mention the possible promotion that’s at stake for me, because that’s not something he needs to know. I was prepared to help him before there was a promotion on the table, so that hasn’t changed anything.

  What’s our first order of business, boss?

  I want to speak to the free clinic. Can you check on your insurance?

  Will do right away.

  I’ll hit you up shortly.

  Sounds good.

  I grab my purse, keys, phone and coffee and head out of my office. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

  “Mr. Augustino said you’re working on a special project.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Is he tall, blond and handsome?”

  “Bye, Mona.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. Don’t worry.”

  I roll my eyes and walk out of the executive office suite into the hallway that leads to the elevator. As I walk to my car, I place a call to my cousin Maria.

  “Hey, prima. How’s the new job?”

  “It’s been rather interesting so far.”

  “In a good way, I hope.”

  “Jury’s still out. I have a question for you. Are you guys still looking for a doctor at the clinic?”

  “God, yes. We’re so slammed, and with only a part-time nurse practitioner who can write scripts, we’re dying over here.”

  “I may have someone who can help.”

  “Fantastic.”

  I tell her about Jason.

  “What the hell does a pediatric neurosurgeon want with a free clinic in Little Havana? He knows we can’t pay him much, right?”

  “Here’s the thing. He’s willing to volunteer.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “He’s had some challenges in his personal life that have the board at Miami-Dade questioning whether they want him on their staff.”

  “What kind of challenges?”

  I lean against my car, close my eyes and say a silent prayer to my late grandfathers, hoping they can help me out here. If the clinic doesn’t work out for whatever reason, I don’t exactly have a plan B waiting on deck. “He had an affair with the board chair’s wife in New York.”

  “Ugh, Carmen . . .”

  “Wait, there’s more.” I tell her the rest about how the woman used him and that Jason didn’t know she was married, least of all to the chairman of the board of his hospital. “He had real feelings for her and was crushed by the whole thing.”

  “Why doesn’t he just say so?”

  “Because she has kids, and he’s being sensitive to what it would do to them if he came out and said their mother used him for sex so she could get rid of their father.”

  “I guess it’s true what they say,” she says with a sigh.

  I’m not following her. “What is?”

  “There’s no such thing as a free neurosurgeon.”

  “He wouldn’t be doing it for the money, Mari. He’s determined to make a new life for himself down here. He wants to get to know the community and make an impact.”

  “And if the end result is that Miami-Dade grants privileges, all the better, right?”

  “Will you meet him and give him a chance?”

  “Let me talk to my boss and see what she thinks. It’s her call. The good news for your guy is we might be desperate enough to overlook the scandal.”

  “Call me when you know?”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

  “How’d you get involved?”

  “That’s a story for another day and requires vodka.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it. I’ll get back to you shortly.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You owe me big for this.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Maria is laughing as the connection goes dead. God, I hope she can make this work. If not, I’ve got to come up with something else he can do in the community that would have the same impact.

  CHAPTER 7

  CARMEN

  I put the key in the ignition of my car, an old Honda that Tony and I bought when we were first married. I’m suddenly overcome by an unexpected flood of emotions that take me by surprise. Why am I so invested in Dr. Jason Northrup and his career? Why has his cause become mine? It’s not just because of the money I owe him. I wish it were that simple.

  It’s also because of the integrity he’s showing in not wanting to harm his ex-lover’s children. That really gets to me, especially after he shared what he endured growing up with a cheating father.

  The scorching South Florida sunshine quickly makes it necessary for me to turn on the car and the AC, but I sit there for a long time, staring out the window, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours.

  When I arrived for the first day of my new job this time yesterday, I was still blissfully unaware that Dr. Jason Northrup was about to upset my well-ordered existence in every possible way. While driving a Porsche and my two trips to jail would be banner headlines at any other time in my life, the fact that I feel a genuine connection to a man for the first time in five long years is the truly remarkable development.

  I’ve often wondered if it would happen again, if I would meet someone who made me feel something. But until yesterday morning, it hadn’t happened, despite the enthusiastic efforts of everyone who loves me to find me someone new to love. While I was reluctant to be fixed up on more blind dates than any girl should be forced
to endure in a lifetime, I made a genuine effort to connect with each of them, only to be disappointed time and again.

  After having had the real thing, I know the difference between something and nothing. How many times have I said just that to my grandmothers, parents, cousins, friends and even customers at the restaurant who’ve become invested in the quest to find Carmen a new man?

  Abuela told me a year or so ago that all the foolishness and fixups are really about making sure I’m ready when the right one comes along. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, and those words come back to me now, proving once again how wise Abuela really is.

  She, too, was widowed young, although she was almost twenty years older than me when it happened to her. My grandfather died of a massive heart attack at forty-two. Abuela was forty then, with three young children still at home and a broken heart that never healed.

  “I don’t want you to end up like me, mi amor,” she said when I complained to her that I was getting tired of all the first dates I’d been on. “I refused to even consider another man after my sweet Jorge died. Now, I’m growing old alone, and I wish I’d taken another chance on love.”

  “You’re never alone, Abuela.”

  “I’m thankful for you and our family all the time. But I don’t have to tell you that the love of a beautiful family and friends isn’t the same as the love you felt for Tony or that I felt for Jorge. It’s just not the same.”

  No, it isn’t the same. Nothing is ever the same after you lose the person you love the most. For a long time after Tony died, I wondered if I would survive the loss. The first year was a haze of grief and numbness and nonstop events honoring him and his ultimate sacrifice.

  Through it all, my goal was to keep breathing, to keep putting one foot in front of the other, to cope with grief so deep and pervasive I feared it might suffocate me. But it didn’t. To my astonishment, I actually survived losing him and was forced to figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. That’s when I ended up in an undergrad program that later led to a master’s in communications.

  Thinking about that time, right after we lost Tony so suddenly, can still bring tears to my eyes, even after five years. I’ve learned that you never really get “used to” being without the one you love. But you do learn to live without him, as preposterous as that seemed at the beginning. My love for Tony is as present to me today as it was the day he died. It’s as much a part of me as the heart that’s beat only for him since I was fourteen.

  I grip the steering wheel, caught in the web of grief once again as I acknowledge that yesterday, for the first time ever, I felt something for a man who isn’t Tony. The emotions are complex—confusion, relief, despair, sadness.

  Part of me never wanted to move on from him, even if I always knew it would happen eventually. Of course, it probably shouldn’t happen with a colleague, but it’s comforting to know I still have the capacity to be attracted to a man.

  In widow circles, they talk about the “Chapter 2,” which is when a widow finds new love. I’ve read a lot of stories of how people move on to their next love while honoring the one they lost and admire the courage it takes to risk everything once again. Especially knowing what can happen. I haven’t given much consideration to whether I would ever have a Chapter 2, or if I even want that.

  I snap out of my thoughts sometime later to find that I’m still gripping the steering wheel as I process a fresh wave of the grief and confusion that were my constant companions for so long after that dreadful first day. Not only was I heartbroken for myself and his family, but I was wrecked for him. At twenty-four, he walked into a convenience store, probably to buy gum or Gatorade, and had the rest of his life stolen from him in a random act of violence.

  We found out later that the man who shot him had scuffled with police in the past. It was believed that the shooting had nothing to do with Tony and everything to do with the uniform he wore. After two years of court appearances and a trial that reopened the healing wound, the man was convicted of murdering a police officer and sentenced to life in prison with no chance of parole.

  That was another surreal moment in this never-ending journey, and while we were thankful to see justice done, it was a fresh reminder that nothing would bring Tony back.

  My phone rings, and I take the call from Jason. “Hi.”

  “Hey. Everything okay?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “You sound weird.”

  “I only said hi.”

  “You sound weird.”

  It astounds me that one word has tuned him in to the fact that I’m not okay. “I’m, uh . . .”

  “Do you need me to come get you?”

  “No, I don’t need you to come get me.”

  “Why do you sound weird? Did something happen?”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  “Okay,” he says hesitantly. “I called to tell you I talked to the insurance company and bought the rider I needed to volunteer, so I’m good to go if the clinic approves our plan.”

  “That’s great news. I pitched it to my cousin, who works there, and I’m waiting to hear back.”

  “Since Mr. Augustino assigned you to me, you can help me look at a couple of condos while we wait to hear from your cousin, right?”

  I’m not sure that spending any more time with him than absolutely necessary to do the job is a good idea, but my boss told me to work with him. “Sure, we can do that. Where should we meet?”

  “Come by my hotel?” He gives me an address I recognize near the hospital. “We can park your car, and I’ll drive.”

  I’m afraid to go anywhere near the car that landed me—twice—in jail, but I don’t tell him that. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Great, see you then. And Carmen?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for all you’re doing to help me out.”

  “Just working off my debt.”

  He laughs. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” The sound of his laughter gives me goose bumps. Everything about this man is a problem to me, but I have a job to do, and as long as I stay focused on that, I can keep this situation under control.

  At least I hope so.

  JASON

  I wait for Carmen in the car outside the main door to my hotel. I’m excited to see her again, which is baffling. Three weeks ago, I had my heart crushed by a conniving, manipulative woman who shamelessly used me to advance her own agenda. I have absolutely no business being attracted to or looking forward to seeing any woman, let alone one I work with, but I don’t know this city at all and I want to make sure I end up somewhere that makes sense.

  While my medical colleagues dated each other like crazy, I stayed away from those complications, even though it’s difficult to meet anyone who isn’t somehow related to work due to the hours we keep.

  Hospitals are full of interpersonal drama—doctors and nurses getting busy with each other is almost a cliché, frowned upon but actively happening. Although I’ve never known of people having sex in the on-call rooms or storerooms like they do on TV. That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, but I haven’t been aware of it.

  Since med school, dating and sex and all the nonsense that goes with them were an afterthought for me, mostly consisting of one-night hookups that never went beyond first names and basic attraction until I met Ginger. Weeks after the disaster, I can’t think of her without seething. I’ve gone beyond the heartbroken stage and am settling into the furious part of the program now.

  I’ve had ample examples in my life of the many ways people can suck, but until she had her wicked way with me, I had no idea how painful it is to be screwed over by a woman. She fucked with my head, my heart and my body, taking full advantage of me while she had me in her clutches. We hooked up at least three times a week for months, most of the time at my place in the city, which I now realize was strategic on her part. Until that fateful night on Long Island when her husband caught us, whic
h was her plan all along.

  Why am I still thinking about her and what she did to me? Why can’t I just forget about her and move on? Because I loved her. I hate that, but it’s true. I totally fell for her. I didn’t plan to let that happen. At first, it was about the sex, which was awesome, and later, it became about so much more than that. I could talk to her, and she really listened. A difficult case at work consumed me for months, a child with a brain tumor that resisted all conventional treatment. When I lost that child after a Hail Mary surgery failed, I was despondent.

  Ginger came to my place that night, after I told her I wasn’t up for getting together. She held me when I bawled from the frustration and despair I felt after not being able to save that little boy’s life. She didn’t ask me for anything and gave me everything.

  How could she do that, knowing our entire relationship was nothing more than a scam? Did she ever care about me at all, or did she only pretend to care so I’d stick around long enough to get caught? I hate that I still wonder if she ever actually gave a shit about me or if the whole thing was nothing more than a big game to her.

  I want to stop thinking about her. I want to stop reliving every minute I spent with her and picking it apart, looking for clues that simply weren’t there. Or if they were, I never saw them. All I saw was a witty, beautiful, smart, sexy woman who briefly made me a believer in true love and fairy tales.

  Such bullshit, which is exactly why I shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing Carmen Giordino or any woman. I don’t have the bandwidth at the moment for anything other than doing what I can to salvage the career that is my life. Nothing else but getting that back on track matters, and I need to remember my ultimate goal here.

  Carmen arrives a few minutes later, driving a navy-blue Honda. I wave to her and point to the free parking area.

  A few minutes later, she makes her way toward me. Today she’s wearing a black suit with a floral-print silk blouse. Her hair is long and curly, and I’m riveted.

  Didn’t you just have a talk with yourself about why you can’t be riveted by Carmen or anyone else?