by Dianne Drake
“I wouldn’t hurt you intentionally.”
“But there are so many unintentional things you do. And sure, you have regrets and apologize, like you’re doing now. But some things can’t be undone. When you say the words, they can’t be unsaid. Apologies may be accepted, Damien, but words still linger.” OK, so she was putting it all on the line now, but what was there to lose except a little self-esteem?
“I didn’t come here to fall in love, Juliette. I came to escape it. Had one serious experience with it, and it didn’t work. And it scares me to think that I could go and do it again.”
“I didn’t come here to fall in love, either. I came to escape my father’s dominance. I don’t want to be dominated, don’t want to be around anyone who believes he or she has that right.”
“So where does that leave us?” he asked.
“It leaves us as two runaways with strong ideas of what we don’t want, trying to define what we do want.” And that pretty well summed it up. “We don’t have to date, Damien. We don’t have to get physical. We don’t have to admit our feelings toward one another. But what we do have to do is realize that our friendship isn’t just casual, nor is it just professional. If you can live with that—if I can live with that—then I can stay here. But if we can’t live with what’s apparently going to go unspoken, then I’ll have to leave.” It surprised her that she’d summoned the courage to say these things to him, but they needed to be said. And so far Damien hadn’t made any effort to say them himself.
But she felt good about clearing the air. It gave her hope that even if she couldn’t move forward with Damien, someday she might be able to move forward with someone else. Although she didn’t think she’d ever find anyone who could compare to him. It was a thought that made her feel as if she’d just said her last goodbye to her best friend.
“I don’t know what to say, Juliette. I mean, I appreciate your honesty. And I appreciate you.”
He looked as if he were at a loss for something to latch on to. An explanation, a hope. It was something she’d never seen in him before.
“I don’t want you to leave. I just don’t... I just don’t know how to handle you being here. So for right now, how about we let this blow over and see what happens in the future. OK? You know, get past it, and see what we’ve got left.”
“So what do you want from me, other than work? Or do you even want anything?”
“Damned if I know,” he said, slamming his fist into the file cabinet so hard the sound resonated out the door and down the hall. “I had this plan. I was going to come here for a couple of years, get away from all the trappings that almost ruined me before, try to find my worth again. All of it just me, by myself. I mean, who the hell ever goes to the jungle to hide and comes across someone like you?”
She laughed. “It goes both ways, Damien. I didn’t expect to come to the jungle to find you.”
“But here we are. And this thing between us is driving me crazy because I don’t even know what it is.”
He did know what it was. She was sure of it. But he was dancing all around it, coming so close, then backing away. And it was frustrating that he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, admit it. Not to her, not even to himself. As much as Damien had tried pushing her away, he was pushing himself away even harder.
“Then, by all means, distance yourself, Damien. Think as much as you want, and I’ll stay out of your way so you’ll have even more time to think.” She didn’t want to be cross with him, but his hot-and-cold switch was confusing her so much she didn’t know how else to react. This thing, as he called it, was getting complicated—for both of them.
* * *
“You want me to take them back to the hospital and get them something to eat?” Damien asked George. “I hate dumping all this responsibility on you and Carmelita.” The more he was around the children, the more he wanted to be around them. It was yet another new facet to his ever-baffling life.
George looked over at the two, who were playing in the churchyard, keeping a distance between themselves and the other children who were there for school. “We’re good for dinner. How about we let them stay for that and I’ll bring them back to the hospital in a couple of hours?”
Damien sighed. “I might be back by then, if I don’t feel the sudden urge to get out of there and take another walk.” Although walking, as he was doing now, wasn’t a solution to what was bothering him. And what was bothering him was—him! He was disgusted with himself. Didn’t know where all this uncertainty came from, as it was something new to him. Normally when he was interested in a woman he’d ask her out. They’d dine, dance, maybe make love at the end of the evening. Then he’d call her again, or he wouldn’t. Whatever struck his fancy at the time. Of course, there was Nancy, and he’d thought she was the keeper.
But, in recent days, he’d even wondered about that. Wondered if his real motivation in that relationship was to prove to himself that he was worthy of climbing into higher circles, worthy of being embraced by the likes of Nancy’s ilk more so than by Nancy, herself. Which made him pathetically lacking in character, and full of self-doubt. And it wasn’t a stranger to him. He’d felt it recently when he’d gone to Daniel’s wedding and saw what a wonderful life his brother had made for himself in the wake of a tragedy that many men would never overcome. He’d seen happiness and contentment and joy—things he’d never seen in himself. Things he’d never thought he could have, given his lifestyle choices. Things that made him desirous of something he didn’t know how to get.
Home, family, all the trimmings—in other words, maturity. It was bound to happen at some point in his life, but he wasn’t prepared for it the way it hit him. He’d actually looked forward to scaling back on his lifestyle, not running around so much, driving a family SUV rather than a sports car, maybe even mowing the yard on Saturday mornings. Yep, that was him. Craving the domestic after living the high life. But he’d picked the wrong person, and had actually convinced himself for a while that Nancy would do well living that life. Apparently, he’d been seeing things in her that just weren’t there, though. Deluding himself. Which was why he’d come to the jungle. After Nancy, he’d needed to get away—from what he’d been, from what he’d hoped to become. Just get away from it all. Isolate himself from everything and try to figure out what was real in his world, because for so long nothing in his past had been.
“Are you and Juliette disagreeing again?” George asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Juliette and I aren’t anything!”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” George said as he signaled Marco and Ivelis over to him. “Maybe you and Juliette should be doing something. Talking at the very least. Taking a walk together. Holding hands. Gazing into each other’s eyes. You get the point anyway. I’ll bring the kids back down to you later. Good luck with Juliette, by the way.”
Talking? Walking, holding hands, gazing? Yes, good luck, but to whom?
* * *
Juliette looked at the results of the A1C test she had given Senõra Calderón and cringed. She was reading way above the normal for diabetes, which was a pretty good indication that the woman was afflicted. Damien had called it right and she wanted to consult with him to see what could be done to treat the woman, given that resources for diabetic treatment out here in the jungle were very limited. But he’d been gone for over an hour now, and she was beginning to wonder if he was coming back.
“I’d like to admit you to the hospital tonight, and have el doctor Damien talk to you when he returns.”
“You can’t talk to me? Because I like seeing a lady doctor.”
That was flattering, especially in a village where old-school values prevailed and outsiders were viewed as intruders. Most notably, female outsiders. “El doctor Damien is going to be your doctor, not me, since I’m only here two days week. Which is why I want you to see him.”
“T
hen I’ll come back tomorrow when he’s here. Right now he’s at the Bombacopsis Taberna drinking cerveza, and he didn’t look like he was going anywhere for a while.” Senõra Calderón hopped off the exam table and went on her way, walking right by George, as he brought Marco and Ivelis into the hospital.
“Are you OK?” George asked Juliette on his way in the door.
“Just tired. Nothing big. What’s the Bombacopsis Taberna?”
“The Bombacopsis Tavern.”
“And cerveza is...?”
“Beer.” He smiled sympathetically. “But he limits himself to one, just in case you were wondering. Oh, and Damien knows the kids are here.”
“You talked to him?”
“Briefly, on my way here. He should be back anytime.”
She wasn’t going to hold her breath on that one. “So what am I supposed to do with them in the meantime?”
“Find them a bed and let them go to sleep. That seems to be the usual routine.”
“That’s a heck of a way for a child to live, isn’t it?” Even though this arrangement was better than what they might have ended up with, she wanted better for them. Wanted them in a happy home. Normal life. Normal family.
“Damien means well, and I know he’s trying to do right by them. And he has been building a partition in his hut so the kids can have their own room there. It’s just that these things don’t get done too quickly when your resources are limited.”
Was Damien actually setting himself up in a family situation? She liked the idea of that. Liked it a lot. The light on him, bit by bit, was shining much brighter. And it notched up even more thirty minutes later, when he entered the hospital ward and went straight to the beds she’d sectioned off for the children. He stood there looking at them, while she stood there looking at him. The tender expression for them on his face—it made her heart melt. Made her heart swell at the same time. For this was the real Damien. The one who kept himself hidden under so many layers of uncertainty. The one he probably didn’t even know existed. The one she’d gone and fallen in love with. And yes, it was love, in spite of all its obstacles.
CHAPTER NINE
RUBBING HIS EYES and shaking himself, trying to stay awake, Damien took one last look into the waiting room and finally, after sixteen hours of back-to-back patients, it was empty, except for Juliette, who’d taken a moment to sit down and rest. She’d apparently fallen asleep. But who could blame her? She needed it, and that was really all he wanted for himself, as well. Several hours of uninterrupted sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream... Dreaming that impossible dream... Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared...
* * *
Damn, he was getting punch-drunk now. He shook himself again. Harder this time, trying to throw it off. But random thoughts were running rampant through his brain, which meant he was no good for anything. Especially not for anything as far as the hospital was concerned. So as soon as George came in to take over the shift, he was going to go back in his own hut. Take the rest of the afternoon for himself—no children, no patients. Nothing but perfect peace and quiet. And sleep.
But first he had to tend to Marco and Ivelis. He’d walked them down to the church for morning school earlier, and now it was time to take them back to the hospital for lunch. When he arrived, Padre Benicio was standing in the doorway, waiting for him, holding the children’s hands. Just seeing them there—it caused a lump in Damien’s throat. He wanted so badly to have more time with them. Desperately wanted to take Marco out to play ball, and Ivelis to one of the local women who cut hair. Wanted to read to them. Sit down to a quiet meal with them and ask them about their day. Wanted to...be a father? Did he really want to be a father?
No. He couldn’t—could he? He thought about that for a moment. Thought about all the changes he’d have to make to accommodate children in his life. About how much he enjoyed having them around—and what might happen to them if he didn’t allow them to stay. That was the thought that sobered him. Made him sick to his stomach because he knew what was waiting for orphans like Marco and Ivelis, and it was bleak. How could he let those children step into the kind of life that awaited them outside Bombacopsis? Which meant—well, it meant a lot of things. Changes in his life. Changes in his outlook. Changes in ways he couldn’t even anticipate.
Could he do it? Could he take on two children when he refused to take on a real relationship with Juliette? How did any of that make sense?
“Any new developments with the children?” he asked Padre Benicio.
“Nothing’s changed. They don’t talk, don’t go outside to play when the other children do. They don’t do anything. So I was wondering, do you think it’s time to take them somewhere and have them examined? See if there’s something psychological that can be treated? I know I’m not a doctor, but I am concerned that they might have a condition of some sort.”
Damien shook his head. “The only condition they have is an overwhelming sadness for the loss of the only security they had in this world. I imagine they’re scared to death and they’re drowning in everything that’s going on around them.”
“They need a family, Damien. Two parents together, or a mother or father, separately. Someone to look after them properly, and not do what we’re doing here—trotting them from place to place, person to person. Dropping them into situations they couldn’t possibly understand.”
“I know that and, believe me, I’m looking at ways to take care of them.” One way, actually, and he wasn’t yet sure about it. Wasn’t sure about anything.
“Damien, Child Services isn’t going to list them as a priority now, since they already have a roof over their heads, they’re being fed, bathed and schooled. As far as the child authorities are concerned, these children are in a good situation. They’re not going to change that, since they’ve got so many other children to deal with who are in horrible situations.”
“I know,” he said. “Their prospects aren’t good.”
“Unless they stay here, with you.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about it. But sometimes I’m barely able to make it on my own as an adult, and I certainly shouldn’t be dragging two children along into that. They’re great kids, but they deserve better than me.” That much was true. They did.
“They deserve to be happy, Damien, however that happens. And whoever that happens with. And I don’t think what you consider to be a lack of stability would matter at all as long as you love them.”
“Look, Padre. I’m doing the best I can, with what I have. It’s not good enough, but it’s all I can do. And I’m well aware of my limitations.” The biggest one being how turning himself into a single dad scared him to death. As much as he cared for those kids, he didn’t know if he could do justice by them.
“We all have limitations, Damien. But the real measure of a person comes not in what he knows he can do, but in what he doesn’t know he can do and still does in spite of himself. Think about that for a while. And, in the meantime, I’m going to go find a nice casado for lunch, then I’ll come down to the hospital to get the kids and take them back to the church for afternoon school.” He tipped his imaginary hat to Damien, and scooted out the door, leaving Damien standing there, with Marco on his left side and Ivelis on his right.
“Well, let’s go see what Rosalita has fixed for your lunch.” He extended a hand to each child, and the three of them wandered off toward the hospital, looking like a perfect little family.
* * *
“Juliette?” Damien gave her a little nudge. She was still asleep. Three hours now. And she was sitting up in one of the chairs in the waiting room, looking totally uncomfortable. He should have insisted she go to bed hours ago, but he hadn’t had the heart to wake her. Now he wished he’d found that bed for her, as he could practically feel the stiff muscles she’d have when she did wake up. Which wou
ld be in about a minute since he wanted to make sure she got something to eat before Rosalita got busy with dinner preparations.
“Wake up, Juliette. We need to get some food in you.” And he needed her company, if only for a few minutes. Missed it when he didn’t have it.
“Not hungry,” she mumbled, turning away from him without opening her eyes. “Let me sleep another few minutes.”
“After you’ve eaten.” He nudged her gently again, then frowned. Stepped back. Took a good hard look at her. And his face blanched. “Juliette, do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Yes,” she said, dropping her head to the left side, resting it on her shoulder. “And I’ll get back to work in a minute.”
“Juliette, listen to me. I want you to look at me. Open up your eyes and look at me.”
“They’re brown, Damien. Dark brown. Nothing extraordinary.” She opened her eyes wide for him to take a look. “See?”
Damien uttered an expletive and immediately reached down to feel her forehead. Then uttered another expletive. She was burning up! Fever, fatigue... “Do you have a headache?” he asked, grabbing his stethoscope out of his pocket and positioning it in his ears.
“Only because I haven’t had enough sleep lately,” she said, finally starting to rouse, starting to stand. But Damien pushed her gently back into her chair.
