by Robyn Carr
At first, overwhelmed by all the tension of the day and the presence of so many people who appreciated her, all she could do was nod and smile. After a glass of wine, she began to laugh as jokes and gossip were traded. People came and went as though it was an open house. At five o’clock, food appeared.
“It’s going to be fine now,” Terry, the RN from the operating room said. “Have another glass of wine. I’m driving you home in your car.”
“But how will you get home?”
“I came over with Rob Hollis from the hospital and my husband, Jake, is coming.” She shrugged and smiled. “Free food.”
“Who put this together?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t know. Everyone, more or less. Once the word got out that the first day of your suit started with the hearing, we all wanted to be here. The ones who had to work are just getting here a little later, that’s all. Maggie, it’s over.”
“Mrs. Markiff met me in the bathroom to let me know how bitterly she hates me.”
“You were the only chance her boy had. We go through this, Maggie. We go through it because who will they have if we don’t?”
“I think I’m used up,” she said.
“I hope to God not,” Terry said. “We need you. What are you finding at Sully’s we can’t give you here?”
She gave a short huff of laughter. “I shot a guy who had abducted a fourteen-year-old girl.”
“That was you? At Sully’s?” she asked, surprised. “The news was pretty good at keeping the identity of the girl, the woman and the exact location of the incident quiet, but they did say it was a campground on a lake near Timberlake. I should’ve known.” She laughed and clapped a hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “You’re a tough broad, Maggie.”
“I always wanted to be something else,” she said. “One of those frail, pretty girls who men felt they had to protect. Maybe I should have let my mother dress me up and send me to dance lessons.”
“Yuck,” Terry said.
“I played touch football, with some tackling. My mother almost died of heartbreak.”
“Thank God you’ve never had an ounce of compromise in you,” Terry said. “Listen, it’s understandable if you need a break, but will you come up one of these days and have dinner at my house with Jake and maybe my daughter and her family? I miss you. I boss around those residents and I swear they pee their pants. When you’re not around there’s hardly any muscle in the operating room. It’s sad. It’s pathetic.”
Maggie was so touched she sighed. “I miss you. I miss the OR.”
“I like to hear that.”
“I have a boyfriend,” she said.
“Oh? Dr. Mathews, right?”
She shook her head. “We’ve been off a few months now. A new boyfriend. I met him at the crossing and he just won’t go away. He’s a lawyer.”
Terry laughed. “Well, that’ll probably come in handy.”
At eight o’clock Maggie said goodbye to Jaycee, Rob and her other friends. Terry drove Maggie to her house, her husband following. She pulled into the drive behind a truck.
“Who’s that?” Terry asked.
Maggie smiled. “The boyfriend. Want to meet him?”
“Bring him when you come to dinner. We’ll get to know each other then.”
Maggie got out of the car, Cal got out of the truck and they met in the drive. “Why are you here?” she asked.
“Just in case. If you need to be quiet and alone, I brought a good book. But I wanted to see you. I wanted to get my arms around a free woman.”
“They had a celebration for me. That’s my OR nurse...” she said, turning.
But Terry was moving toward the waiting car. She waved and yelled, “Bring him to dinner so we can look him over!” Then she jumped in her husband’s car and off they went.
“Very outgoing, isn’t she?” Cal said.
“Did you bring an overnight bag?” she asked.
“Always the optimist,” he said with a nod. “Have you eaten?”
“Ate, drank, laughed,” she said. “I wish I hadn’t told you I wanted to do it alone, Cal. I wish you’d been with me tonight. I have some very good friends, it turns out.”
Earth and sky, woods and fields,
lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea,
are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some
of us more than we can ever learn from books.
—Sir John Lubbock
Chapter 14
Cal suggested he drive back to the crossing rather than join Maggie for her visit with Phoebe and Walter. “When the time is right, I’ll visit them with you,” he said.
“I can’t wait to see what makes the time right,” she said. But she let him off the hook.
This was a new experience for Cal, this kind of courtship. When he’d met Lynne he knew the second he saw her that she was the one. Crazy as it was, he’d felt it reaching way down inside him. There was something about her that signaled stability, sense of purpose, commitment—the things he had desperately needed at the time. It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, sexy and fun.
Maggie wasn’t really so different, it had just taken him longer to see it. She was equally stable with an uncanny sense of purpose, even though she was on hiatus from her purpose at the moment. He was attracted right away, but how hard was that? Maggie was hot—tall, lean, muscular with high cheekbones and a quirky, slightly crooked smile. And she didn’t know that about herself—that she was stunning, which only added to her sexiness. He loved the way she stood, one knee bent, her foot balanced on a toe like some kind of dancer. And there were a dozen other qualities that kept turning up, making his attraction stronger and stronger. Her strength was empowering. It was ironic—she thought her strength was running out and that she had to step back, but it was only growing stronger. She was a little afraid, given all the complications in her life, that’s all. She wasn’t weakening. She was so demanding of herself. She was demanding of others, too, but fair. He thought watching her with Sully was a premonition of what was to come when her future husband became old and infirm. She might not know it yet, but she was going to be just like Sully toward her children when she was old and creaky. She loved hard, but with compassion. She was fearless. Because she hurt over things that had happened to her professionally, she thought she was running out of courage, but it was the opposite. She was afraid her fast action and fearlessness was going to keep giving her trouble over and over. She was partly right—at some point you have to decide if you can take the heat. More specifically, you have to decide if what you do is worth the trouble. She was asking herself that question right now. He bet on her finding the answer soon.
Cal had certainly been down that road. His profession was no easier. Stress management was almost a hobby for him. The rush he got from winning kept him going back for more.
Then things changed.
It wasn’t just losing Lynne, though that was huge. It was the fact that those things he had done to protect himself and his wife hadn’t worked. He’d gotten himself a great education and then a big reputation for success. They said he had stars in his pockets, that he was destined for greatness. He bought a large, sturdy house, exactly the kind of house he thought people who knew what they were doing and where they were going would live in, large enough to hold a family and a future. They put down roots, got enmeshed in the community, poured themselves into each other and work. They even dealt very admirably and intelligently with Lynne’s condition.
Then one day she was sick and in pain. The next couple of days were okay, then bad days followed, then a few good... It wasn’t long before Lynne suffered disfigurement and chronic pain. She couldn’t work. Their lives became more of coping and praying than living and working. Her last six months had been hideous. Cal went to work because Lynne wanted him to, because she believe
d his work fed a need in him and that he’d have a life after her.
He had tried to make that true for her sake but it took every fiber of his being to keep from crumbling in front of her while she was going through the last months. Weeks. Days. The only thing that kept him upright was an overpowering need to match her courage; the only reason he tried to get on with his life was for her. The truth was, there were so many hours he just wanted to go with her. He felt like his insides had been pulled out, stomped on, stuffed back into him. Life without her seemed unendurable.
He kept trying after she was gone, and he did it not for himself but to honor her. All she wanted was for him to live, to find joy in life.
Well, that had taken a while. But here he was, remarkably, having a life. One he hadn’t planned but found intensely satisfying.
Between insurance, Lynne’s legacy, a couple of bonuses and the sale of the house, he had some money. He tried to turn the trust back to her parents but they wouldn’t have it—he had been a devoted husband and they appreciated his love and loyalty, especially during the darkest days. Lynne’s will left a few special items to her parents for remembrance’s sake but the rest to Cal. Now his quest was simple—he just wanted to belong to someone and something. Life was precious and not to be taken for granted, and he would not disgrace his wife’s memory with self-pity or misery. Part of that was being of service. It didn’t have to be winning the most high-profile case. Sometimes it was stocking shelves.
One of the many things Cal had learned was that the role he’d assumed as a kid, becoming the parent in a dysfunctional family, wasn’t temporary. He still had that need—to take care of people, watch over those he loved.
He was watching over Maggie. He was pretty sure she had no idea.
* * *
Maggie had packed a pair of jeans to wear on the drive home but instead she showered, blew out her hair and put on her dress, the one she had worn to court. She knew it would please Phoebe. She called her mother and asked if they could meet at her club for brunch because she wanted to talk.
While Cal made breakfast, she checked her email. She thought there might be a couple—word travels fast in hospitals. “Holy shit,” she said. There were over fifty!
“What do they say?” he asked.
“Mostly congratulations, I think. It’s going to take me forever to read through them. I had no idea people were paying this much attention. People didn’t say much. Just things like good luck and it’ll be okay and tough break, Maggie—that sort of thing.”
“All doctors probably relate,” he said. “If you didn’t express a need to talk about it, they probably didn’t want to pry too much.”
“Would I have heard from them if I’d been beaten to a pulp instead?”
“How will you ever know?” he countered.
Maggie couldn’t help her doubts. Do they really like me? Respect me? Or only like and respect me if I win?
They ate a quick breakfast, Cal washed up the dishes while she read through email after email, then he quickly got out of her hair so she could read and answer as many as possible before it was time to drive to Golden.
There was one from Andrew.
Maggie, love. You’ve been on my mind since the day I last saw you. Before that, to tell the truth. I don’t blame you if you’re still angry with me—that was a stupid ass thing for me to do, telling you I couldn’t take it anymore, rejecting the idea of our baby. So now I hear the suit is over and your life can get back to some resemblance to normal, as much as lives like ours can. I just want you to know—I’m not over you. I’m sorry. I’m filled with regrets. I miss you and I’d do just about anything to have another chance. We can even revisit the idea of a child, the little matter that had us at each other’s throats. If it’s that important to you, let’s talk about it. At least think about it, will you? We were happy; we had a good time together despite the complications of our lives. I love you, Maggie. And I think you loved me. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Andrew.
She stopped herself before emailing back, Kiss my ass, Andrew. She’d think of something profound to say to him on her drive home.
There were emails from colleagues who wanted her to talk about possibly leasing office space, joining their practices, offers of part-time work on call, even suggestions of teaching assignments. Teaching? She thought she was a basket case, yet some surgeons thought she was stable enough to teach.
It was the first time in too long that she felt there were many wonderful possibilities ahead. She felt strong and above all, with Cal’s encouragement embracing her, she thought her future was bright. Their future had great potential. She vowed to consider all the offers and see if she could do that thing Walter had long ago advised—find out how to make her personal and professional goals match.
She drove to Golden with that on her mind.
* * *
Phoebe’s eyes lit up when she saw Maggie, all dressed up. She told her she looked beautiful and got a little misty-eyed.
“There was a hearing yesterday,” Maggie told Phoebe and Walter. “The judge threw out the lawsuit with prejudice, which means they can’t retry it or appeal it. He said he didn’t see a case. In fact, the judge said some very encouraging things, complimentary things. I’m going to try to get a copy of the hearing. If I do, I’ll share it with you.”
“Oh, thank God!” Phoebe said. “Then you’re coming back to Denver!”
“Mother, I have no practice,” she said.
“That’s a mere formality. You can work, I know you can. You can take a position with the hospital. Or the university medical school! Walter can ask around. You can figure out what to do about a practice and start seeing patients again. I know you wouldn’t waste that marvelous education and spectacular gift.”
Phoebe proceeded to stop people in the dining room of the club and announce, with great excitement, that Maggie’s lawsuit was over and she won! The maître d’ brought champagne to the table.
“Now stop, Mother,” Maggie said firmly. “I didn’t actually win. I failed to lose.”
“So now you’ll go back to work, correct?” Phoebe said.
“I don’t have everything all sorted out just yet,” she said.
“What on earth is there to sort out?” she asked.
Maggie lifted her glass and took a sip of champagne. She put down the glass and looked at her mother. “Remember, way back when you were a young woman with a child living at the crossing? Remember, you hated it and one day you decided that wasn’t enough of a life for you?”
“One day? Maggie, I starting planning to leave the second I got there! I put aside money for at least a year! And I’d really rather not talk about that right now, if you please. It’s a very unpleasant memory.”
“A year,” she said. “Huh. Well that explains a few things, like how you had enough money to get us to Chicago and rent a very nice downtown apartment. You were skimming money, weren’t you?”
“Be civil,” Phoebe hissed.
“I took a brief leave of absence from my practice when I was forty,” Walter said. “I think it was three months. Maybe four. I traveled some. I went to Tibet. I was in search of something. Those monks...” He smiled.
“Not a lot of serenity in neurosurgery, Walter?” Maggie said.
“Problem was, I was already too serene. Even neurosurgery couldn’t beat it out of me. I wasn’t bothered by the risk or the critics or my envious colleagues. My problem wasn’t burnout. Not so much. I had no balance in my life. My family, God bless every one, would bore the paint off an old Chevy.”
Phoebe gasped. “Your mother was a lovely, genteel lady!”
“My mother was a hopeless snob, but the two of you got on admirably. My colleagues were about as interesting plus twice as pompous. My house, which was large and impressive, echoed. I loved surgery, even the most cha
llenging cases. But my life was empty. You’d think saving lives would be more fulfilling, wouldn’t you?”
“Walter,” Maggie said. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”
“Well, that was all before I met your mother. And there didn’t seem to be any need to. Didn’t you have what you wanted?”
She wasn’t quite ready to face that. “Back to you. So you went to Tibet. To find balance?”
“Tibet was another extreme. I was looking for the median. The radical center.” He grabbed Phoebe’s hand. “I found your mother in the restaurant. She was the hostess. I started to eat there every night.”
“Oh, Walter...” Phoebe said, touched.
“But wait, Phoebe had a daughter. What was I then? Seven? Eight?”
“Yes, a daughter.” He chuckled a little. “You did nothing to enhance my serenity, by the way.”
“Now, Walter,” Maggie said with a smile.
“Maggie, you were abominable,” he said. “Most days I couldn’t tell if I was anxious to see what bad thing you’d done or excited to hear you’d been a good child for a change. It was a bundle, see. It was nothing like the family I grew up in—it was interesting. It took me a little while but I suspected you had a very high IQ, not that you needed one to be a surgeon. But there was such intelligence in you, especially when you were bad. I had you tested.”
“I thought that was Mother!” Maggie exclaimed.
He was shaking his head. “I gave strict instructions that you never be told the results. That Phoebe, especially, never be told!”
“Walter?” Phoebe asked, as if deeply hurt.
“You have so many wonderful qualities, darling, but humility is not one of them. You would have had the number put on T-shirts. Besides, the most brilliant scientists in the world don’t have the recipe for happiness.”
