“Fishing, huh? Did you catch anything?”
“Three catfish and a grouper.” He moved his gaze to meet mine. I heard pride in his voice and was happy that my distraction was working.
“Sounds like a good day. So, then what happened?” I tossed the bloody gauze onto the pad underneath me and reached for another one. I placed the pad under Matthew’s arm and pulled the peroxide from my bag.
“It started getting dark, and I had to get home, so I cut through the woods. But, I didn’t get far when I heard growlin’ behind me.”
“Okay, this is going to sting. You ready?” Matthew nodded and took a deep breath. I poured the peroxide over his arm and watched as it immediately began to foam and bubble. He let out a long groan and moved his feet back and forth on the cushion of the couch.
“What are you doin’?” Donald asked. “You’re hurtin’ ‘em.”
“It’s a bite,” I turned to Donald, allowing the peroxide to do its job. “I have to clean it out or it will get infected. If it gets infected, I’ll have no choice but to take him to the hospital.”
“Okay, okay,” Donald said. “I don’t want no damn hospitals. Just do it.”
“So, you said you heard growling? Like a dog?”
“Yep, like a dog,” Matthew said. He cleared his throat. “It was behind me so I turned and then I saw a great big white dog coming out of the bushes. He started comin’ at me, so I threw my fish at him thinkin he was hungry. But he just kept comin’.”
“Wow, you must have been scared.” Using a wooden tongue depressor, I gently applied antibiotic ointment to the entire wound area. Matthew took a deep breath and pushed his head back into the pillow. “I would have been scared. What you did do next?”
“I tried to run, but it jumped!” Matthew lifted his head up from the cushion, his eyes wide, his voice loud. “It jumped at me! All I remember then is that I put up my arm so he wouldn’t bite my face off.”
“That was quick thinking,” I said, after placing several large squares of gauze over the bite, I began to wrap Matthew’s arm using a roll of gauze. “So, what made it let go?’
“There was a branch by my other arm so I grabbed it and I swung it and it hit it in the side of the head and then it let just go.” Matthew’s voice was no longer raspy or timid, but now it was full of energy and confidence.
“Wow, you were lucky,” I said. Removing my gloves, I tossed them onto the pile of bloody gauze. I knew Matthew wasn’t going to like the next step in his treatment. I pulled a vial of amoxicillin and a syringe from my bag.
“Then I stood up and swung it again, and I think I hit it again, but I don’t know,” Matthew’s voice softened, his volume lowered. “But I just kept swinging that branch and walking backwards until I got out of the woods and then I turned and ran until I got home.”
“What are ya doin’ with that?” Donald asked. He leaned and looked over my shoulder.
“It’s an antibiotic,” I said. I opened the syringe and cleaned the top of the vial with an alcohol wipe. After inserting the needle, I tipped the vial upside down and pulled the solution into the syringe. “Since it’s an animal bite, I want to go ahead and give him a shot now just in case there are any stray bacteria in the wound. It is just another way to prevent infection.” Now, sit the fuck down and let me treat your son Donald.
“I have to get a shot?” Matthew pushed himself up on the couch, backing away from me slightly.
“Yes,” I said, putting the vile back into my bag. “But I’m really good at giving shots. I haven’t lied to you yet, have I?”
“No,” he said. His voice was a bit shaky. But he relaxed and moved back to his original position. I rolled up his sleeve and wiped his upper arm with an alcohol pad. The look in his eyes told me he had never had a shot before. I needed to distract him again.
“Did you see what kind of a dog it was?” I asked. “This is a really big bite. It’s bigger than any dog bite I’ve ever seen. You’re lucky it didn’t take your arm off.”
“It was a really big dog. Like a wolf. I had never –” Matthew stopped talking as he realized I had just given him a shot. “I barely felt that.” He said, smiling.
“See,” I said, smiling back. “I told you I was good.” I looked at the fresh bandage on Matthew’s arm. A wolf bite would explain the size. “Are you sure it wasn’t a wolf?” I began picking up the trash, wrapping it carefully to contain the blood. I put all the trash in a plastic bag and tied it securely.
Donald stepped forward, arms still crossed over his chest. “We don’t have wolves out here.” There was something in his voice that put my senses on edge. Not what he said, but the way he said it, his body language, his tone. Defensive. He looked down and began biting his nails and pacing. “They don’t come this far out.”
“Well,” I said, rubbing sanitizer over my hands and wrists. “Animals have been known to stray from their normal territory when their homes are destroyed, or their food supply has been depleted.” I closed my medical bag and stood up. “Maybe that’s why he attacked you. He was scared and hungry. It’s pretty fortunate you had a good day of fishing.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Matthew said. He sat up, slowly swung his legs over the edge of the couch and leaned back. Inspecting the bandage on his arm, he looked up at me and grinned. “All I know is I’m not allowed to go out after dark anymore.”
I rustled Matthew’s hair. “You get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.” I tossed my bags over my shoulder and motioned to Donald. “Walk me out?” Donald nodded, and we moved toward the front door.
“Okay, Donald,” I said. “He has a little fever, but it’s nothing to worry about right now. Give him lots of fluids. Keep his temp down with Advil and cool rags to his head and the back of his neck. If he gets too warm, put him in a cool – not cold – bath for a few minutes.” I placed my hand on Donald’s arm to offer what comfort I could. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.” I handed him my card. “My cell number is on the back if you need me before then.”
“You’re coming back tomorrow?” Donald asked. A look of shock and fear washed across his face. “I can’t afford –”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s no cost. And besides. I was coming back tomorrow anyway. I’m just stopping by because I’ll be in the neighborhood.” I winked at Donald.
Donald let out a small chuckle of relief at my words. “Thank you,” he said softly. Donald opened the front door.
“Of course,” I said.
Standing on the rickety porch, I listened to the quiet again. I took in breath of the deep woods air and looked around at the houses of those people I helped – the people I knew would probably not get help without the organization my father started.
“He was right,” I said, my words whisked away on the wind. I smiled so big the skin at the corner of my eyes wrinkled. “Dad did say this part of the job would remind me of why I became a doctor.”
I steadied the bags on my shoulder, grabbed the rickety wooden banister, and descended the five steps down the front of the house. Glancing to my left, I caught sight of Warren standing on Nana Kay’s porch.
My first instinct was to run to him. I felt myself wanting to be with him, to take him in my arms, kiss him. Fuck woman! I tossed him a wave and flashed a smile as I turned to the path and began the walk back to my car. Stop looking so damn desperate. I blew a soft breath through pursed lips. Get your shit together. No matter how charming he is, how handsome he is, or how hot he gets you, he still left with no explanation. Remember that.
Chapter Four
Situating the bags for the long walk back to my car, I realize I’m still shaken after seeing Warren. He left with no warning. Why wouldn’t he come back the same way? My mind wandered, transporting me back to the day. The day that I will never forget. The day my life changed forever.
“Just stop talking, please!” Warren snapped at me for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “Your voice is grating my nerves.”
>
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped back. My heart beat a fast and hard rhythm in my chest. I was scared. We had never fought like this before. We had arguments and disagreements. But we had never fought to the point where we said hurtful things, lost our tempers, or were just plain mean. “Ever since you got back from your hunting trip with the guys, you’ve been acting really weird. Did something happen?”
“For fuck’s sake!” Warren plopped himself down on the couch, lying with his feet propped on the arm. “Just let it go, will you? I have a horrible pounding in my head, and you’re only making it worse.”
“Is that why you won’t talk to Mark or Paul? Did something happen with you guys out there? Did one of them hurt you? Is that why you came home with that bandage on your leg?” I knew that I was being overly persistent, but Warren wasn’t himself. Something was wrong, and I had to find out what, so I could help him. It’s what I did. I fixed people.
“You don’t understand,” Warren jumped up from the couch. “You can never understand.”
“Then talk to me,” I begged. “Talk to me and help me understand.” I quickly moved to him, standing directly in front of him, placing my hand on his chest. He was warm to my touch. Almost hot. “Warren, babe. You feel like you have a fever.” Warren pushed my hand, brushing it off his body.
“I don’t have a fucking fever,” he groaned. I looked into his eyes, hoping to see love. But all I saw was darkness. Fear. Anger. This was not the man I fell in love with. Something in him had changed. He moved away, walking to the kitchen sink for a glass of water. I followed him, watching him as he downed three glasses, one after another.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked, my voice softer than before. “Would you please just talk to me? Just talk to me and we will work through it. Whatever it is, I am here for you. We can fix it. Together. But I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
He snickered. “Help me,” he said. He kept his gaze straight ahead and filled a fourth glass of water. “There is nothing you can fucking do to help me.”
“You don’t know that I –”
“Yes, I do, Rose.” Warren turned to look at me, one hand still on the faucet handle, one hand holding a full glass of water. “Trust me. There is nothing you can do.” Warren stared at me and I watched as his expression changed. The anger that filled his eyes just moments before seemed to have been washed away by the water. “I can’t do this,” he said.
“Do what?” I asked, hoping he was finally going to open up and share with me all that he had been holding inside.
“This,” he said, motioning back and forth between us. “You. Me. Us. I can’t do it anymore.”
“What? What do you mean?” I knew what he meant. I just didn’t want to accept it. My heart hurt. Did I do this? Did I push too hard? Warren gently placed the glass into the sink and moved toward me. I felt a fluttering in my chest so hard I feared my body would begin to vibrate.
Warren reached out and took my hands in his. “I have to leave,” he said. His tone was more factual than emotional. “I love you, Rose. I do. More than you will ever know. But I just can’t … you can’t … I won’t put …” He paused and took in a deep breath.
“I love you too.” I heard the shakiness of my voice and tried to hold back the tears. “Please, Warren. Just tell me what is going on.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Warren moved a bit closer. “I’m so sorry. But I have to go. Please don’t hate me. I love you.”
Then Warren kissed me. It was the most passionate, loving, intimate kiss we ever shared between us. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I felt his heat against my body. He was so warm I thought the heat radiating from his skin would make me sweat, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to let him go.
Running his hand down my hair, Warren lifted my gaze to his. “I love you, Rose,” he said. “Never forget that.” He kissed my forehead, pushed me away, and walked out the door.
His last touch was his hand on my shoulders, keeping me at arm’s length. I should have gone after him. But I didn’t.
But now he’s here. He’s right here. Fuck! Why is he here?
No matter what was going on in my life, mornings belonged to me. It was my time to relax, recharge, and reconnect with myself. And each morning was the same. Tea. Music. And yoga.
Concentrating on holding the reverse warrior pose, I took comfort in the feeling of the muscles stretching up my side, the tightness of my thighs and calves as I stretched my arm up toward the ceiling. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing.
“Hold for 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1.” The voice Deb, my favorite virtual yoga instructor, projected from the speakers on my laptop. She wasn’t the typical blond-and-bendy workout Barbie. She was a salt-and-pepper-haired middle-aged woman with a very impressive athletic build. And the best instructor I have ever had. Slowly I moved to the next pose, holding the position as she counted.
After several more poses, I pressed my hands into the prayer pose, and bowed at the computer screen. “Namaste,” I said. I offered my respect to Deb, even though I knew she couldn’t see or hear me. Closing the laptop, I felt both accomplished and refreshed.
As I did after each yoga session, I grabbed a bottle of water and my cell phone and moved to the cushion on the window seat at the other end of the living room. I tossed several pillows against the side and settled in to check messages. As a doctor, I was never truly off duty.
I scanned through text and emails, stopping when I reached one that I had hoped I would see, but didn’t expect would be there. It was from Warren.
I stared down at the phone in my hand. Except for the shallow and rapid rise and fall of my chest, my body was still. The words on the screen, somehow, made the phone feel heavy in my hands.
How about 11:30 tomorrow at Murphy’s Downtown? They have an awesome chicken salad.
I had told him to send me a time and a place, but I didn’t think he’d actually do it. He had. And there it was. Staring me in the face. I had a lunch date with Warren Keller. Shit. Now what?
I flinched, fumbling the phone as it buzzed in my hands, breaking the silence of the room. “Fuck!” I looked at the screen. Another message from Warren.
Does that work? Would U rather go somewhere else?
What the hell am I doing? My eyes were fixated on the screen. It’s just lunch. I lifted the phone and situated my thumbs to a ready position over the keys. I’ll go, have an awesome chicken salad, some coffee, and catch up with Warren. My thumbs moved quickly over the keys, typing a response.
That works for me. Looking forward to it. See you there.
We can catch up on things. I allowed my hand, and the phone, to rest in my lap. Looking out the window, my thoughts crept to a dark place. “He can finally explain to me why he left. I can finally get some sense of closure as to why the man I planned on spending the rest of my life with ran away so fast he set the human speed record.”
Hearing my own words, panic crept in and I quickly deleted the message. “I can’t do this.” I stood from the window seat and walked to the kitchen. I gently tossed my phone onto the small white table in the corner and yanked open the fridge door. Grabbing a bottle of water, I chugged over half of the contents before coming up for a breath.
The phone buzzed again. The sound was amplified against the wood of the table. I turned to look but didn’t move toward it. Buzz.
“Dammit,” I said. I slammed the bottle of water onto the counter causing a bit of the contents to be propelled from the opened top and splash onto my hand. Quickly moving to retrieve my phone, I wiped the water off on the back of my jeans before picking it up. “This is so stupid.” As I suspected, it was another message from Warren.
It’s OK if U changed UR mind. Just let me know. Either way, it was great to see U.
Reading his message, I pulled out one of the white wooden chairs and slid into the seat. “Dammit,” I said. A smile washed across my face. All the hurt, anger, and
confusion I had been feeling over the past thirty minutes simply evaporated into the air. “He’s good.” I chuckled, and without another thought, I responded.
No. I haven’t changed my mind. That works for me. Looking forward to it. And it was great to see you, too.
I pressed send and gently placed the phone down on the table in front of me. Filling my lungs with as much air as they would hold, I let out a slow, cleansing breath.
It was great to see him. And I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter Five
Gayle Morse is one of the best RNs I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with – and one of the best friends I’ve ever had. After the incident with Warren, I needed to talk to her. But of course, she was busy. She’s a nurse. She’s always busy.
I stood at the counter of the nurses’ station and tried to bring up the topic of Warren with Gayle, but I wasn’t sure how. She wasn’t his biggest fan. “Have you ever gone out with an ex-boyfriend and had it work out?” My body tensed slightly as I waited for her reply.
“Um …” Gayle looked up at the ceiling, blindly shoving a manila folder into a box under the desk. “I don’t think so.” She leaned back on the chair and ran her hands through her short black hair. When we met, her hair was long, almost to her waist. But, she cut it off, saying it was easier for her job. “Oh, wait, you mean like for sex? Oh, hell yeah.” Gayle slowly spun around in the office chair. “Sex with the ex is the best, babe. But if you’re talking about rekindling a relationship, then no. I’ve never done that. I don’t think I have an ex I’d want back for a repeat performance.”
“Well, I wasn’t really talking about for sex, but –”
Gayle stopped spinning and stared at me. “Wait. Why are you asking? Did you have someone in mind?”
“Hello, ladies.” I heard a male voice to my left and turned to see Dr. Heston Fairbanks walking toward us. I turned and looked at Gayle. She wore a sinful smile and gestured toward Heston.
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