There was nothing she could do about Detroit’s problems, but once she finished her grueling surgical rotation, things would be better between them. Maybe being away a couple of days would be a good thing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
A soft powdery snow began to fall shortly after Laura’s plane touched down at Montreal’s International Airport on Wednesday afternoon, January 7, 1970. The three surgical residents, one of whom was Rosie’s beau, Tim Robinson, were on her flight, and the foursome fell into a comfortable banter as they shared a cab to the Bonaventure Hotel. Laura was captivated by the elegant décor and muted colors of the hotel lobby, and she indulged herself a few moments to take it all in until her companions insisted that they move on to the reception desk. A bellman said something in French as he assisted her with her bags. Laura smiled and uttered a hushed “thank you.” Overhearing that exchange, the check-in clerk spoke in English with a hint of snobbery, as he handed her two written messages.
One was a form letter advising that registration for the meeting was located on the mezzanine floor. She had already carefully selected the sessions she most wanted to attend. One was a symposium on Emergency Treatment of Gunshot Wounds chaired by Dr. Monroe. The other message was tucked into a sealed envelope with her name scrawled across the top. As the bellman moved off with her luggage, Laura broke the seal of the second envelope and pulled out a single piece of paper. It was handwritten and read,
Laura,
Welcome to Montreal. I look forward to spending time with you to talk about your career. Also, I hope you brought pictures of the twins. I have a chairman’s dinner tonight (Wednesday). Are you free for dinner tomorrow after the President’s Reception? Please confirm by leaving me a message. I’m in Room 1501.
Best, David Monroe.
Laura stood riveted to the floor, oblivious to the stares of her three traveling companions.
“Mademoiselle,” the bellman called from the elevator area. “S’il vous plais.”
She looked around, suddenly realizing that she was holding up the whole group. Tim Robinson put a patronizing arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the bank of elevators across the opulent lobby.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Uh huh, Tim, I’m fine,” Laura quickly folded the unexpected message and stuffed it into her purse. She scanned the lobby, looking for David. Was he nearby?
“Well then, why don’t you go unpack and meet me for a drink in the cocktail lounge?”
Until then, Laura had barely been listening. She glanced over at him. “What?”
“I’ll grab a table for two, and we can go over the program.”
“Sorry, Tim, I have to go register for the sessions. Then I want to check out the exhibits.”
“I’ll go with you, beautiful. We can do the exhibits together, then go for that drink.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Tim? I’m still a student. I had to get special permission from my cardiology professor to attend this meeting. I’ve got case reports to work on. No cocktail time for me.” She quickened her pace in the direction of the elevators.
“No, my sweet Laura, you don’t understand. These meetings are for partying. Everybody knows that.” Tim also quickened his pace.
Laura let out a sigh in the elevator. “What about Rosie?” she asked. My friend, Rosie? Remember her?”
“What about her?” He smiled and looked around. “We’re the only ones here in this winter paradise.”
Laura’s mouth fell open, but she remained silent.
Tim rode the elevator with her to the eighth floor.
“Thanks for the escort,” she said flippantly as she stepped into the hallway. “Are you following me?”
“Looks like we’re neighbors.” Tim stopped at the door next to Laura’s and inserted a key into the door with a smirk on his face. “Let me know if you change your mind. Even serious students need to have some fun, beautiful.”
Once Laura entered her room, she checked to make sure the door to the adjoining room was locked. What would Rosie make of Tim’s outrageous advance? Maybe nothing since she was such a flirt herself. Would Steve ever pull something like this at one of his conferences? No, she answered readily. He’d never flirt with another woman. She just knew it.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly removed David’s note from her purse. After reading it once more, she picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed the operator.
“Please leave a message for Dr. David Monroe,” she said. “The message is, ‘I accept your invitation’. Please sign it, ‘Laura.’”
The next day’s meeting schedule offered several options among concurrent sessions. The attendees could choose among symposia on every aspect of surgery from ‘New Trochar Technique for Emergency Craniotomy’ to ‘Gastric Resection in Intractable Peptic Ulcer Disease.’ Laura had chosen carefully, wanting to get the most out of this meeting. Rushing excitedly from session to session all day helped keep her mind off her dinner date with David. Every time the fleeting thought rose into her consciousness, she distracted herself. When the sessions ended at six, she went back up to her room to call Steve and check on the children. Because she had been inside all day, Laura hadn’t noticed the deepening blanket of snow threatening to bury Montreal. She barely had time to glance out the window before Steve picked up the phone.
“Hello there, honey. How are you doing?”
“Hey, Babe.” His response was flat.
Laura tried to remain bright. “I’ve had an absolutely fascinating day,” she offered. “You wouldn’t believe that so much exciting research could be going on in surgery. It’s incredible. So how’s it going on the home front?”
“Things are fine here too,” Steve said, “but there’s something I need to talk to you about. I have to be in Chicago earlier than I’d planned. They want me on a panel on ‘Post-Riot Homelessness’. Mrs. Starke can only stay until five because she’s got to leave to take care of a family emergency. Something about her sister having a hysterectomy,” he said with irritation. “She said she discussed it with you.”
“My plane gets in at three. I’ll take a cab home or maybe I can catch a ride home with one of the guys attending the meeting. That’ll work.”
“Yeah, just so you’re here on time.”
“I’ll do my best,” Laura said and quickly added, “And hey, congratulations. I know how important the Chicago meeting is to you, okay? Everything will work out just fine.”
“Okay,” Steve agreed reluctantly. “So who’s there?”
“Three guys from the hospital and a hotel full of surgeons.”
“Married?”
“What? How would I know about their personal life? I’ve scrubbed with one of the residents on a case or two, but that’s it.” She paused. “Except for Tim Robinson, you know, Rosie’s friend?”
“Oh, yeah? Well he’s a single guy, eh? I’ve heard about what goes on at conventions at those luxury hotels.”
“Hey, this is no picnic. I’m going to have to make up three days of lectures and case studies.” Was she being too defensive?
“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone.”
“Steve, we talked about this. Remember?”
“Yeah, but with all that’s going on—”
“I’ll be home Friday afternoon. Now can I talk to Mikey?”
Trying to erase the annoyance from her voice, Laura said goodnight to Mikey and couldn’t help but smile as he recited the details of his day — Keith and Tyrone had come over from the old neighborhood and had brought a whole box of Matchbox cars that they lined up for a parade. After Tyrone crashed them, Mrs. Starke gave them all Oreo cookies and then the boys went home. Laura felt a stab of loneliness as she hung up, followed by a pang of guilt. She hadn’t told her husband about her plans for the evening.
The telephone rang right after she set it back in the cradle on the nightstand. Laura picked it up, expecting it to be Steve, calling back to apologize for sounding so grumpy.
>
“Laura, it’s David.” His voice was buoyant as she said hello. “Just called to welcome you to the surgery meeting.”
“I had a wonderful day, Dr. Monroe. There’s so much going on, particularly in experimental surgery.”
“That’s why we sent you here,” he said slowly, “to get you hooked on surgery.”
“Well, I do appreciate that.”
“Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m calling concerning dinner tonight,” David continued.
“Oh, that’s alright. I know you’re busy. I’ve seen your name throughout the program.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“It’s been a hectic day,” David agreed. “The reception tonight will also be chaotic, that’s why I’m calling. Instead of trying to locate each other in the middle of all the confusion, let’s meet in the front lobby at eight o’clock sharp, and bring your coat. Okay?”
“Oh, okay,” Laura replied, a smile creeping onto her face. “If you’re sure you’re not too busy.”
“Absolutely not, Laura. I’m really looking forward to talking with you.”
“Eight o’clock, front lobby.” Had he heard the anticipation in her voice?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Laura wore a black chiffon cocktail dress to the reception. It was short with the full skirt swirling just over her knees. The scooped neckline almost revealed a glimpse of cleavage. She had only worn it once before, to her college graduation dinner dance just after Kevin was born. She smiled as she patted her much flatter stomach and observed her svelte profile in the mirror as she left the elevator. Her hair was brushed back away from her face, and she couldn’t help but notice that many eyes followed her as she wended her way through the cluster of surgeons. There were a few women in the crowd, but Laura was clearly the youngest and, perhaps, the most attractive. Hoping to spot one of the other guys from Detroit, she circled the room, stopping occasionally to accept one of the hors d’oeuvres offered by the circulating waiters.
Tim Robinson approached Laura as she reached across the open bar for a Coca-Cola with a twist of lemon.
“You deserve something stronger than that, beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Wriggling out of his overly intimate hold, Laura swung around to face him. “I’m actually glad to see you,” she said. “I don’t know a soul here.”
“Hell, 99% of the guys in this room wouldn’t mind changing that. You look gorgeous.” He squeezed her arm, and she caught a whiff of his breath. Tim Robinson was already three sheets to the wind.
She extricated herself again. “Stop it, Tim. Where are the others? I haven’t seen them all day.”
“They’re around. I told them to get lost because I wanted you all to myself.”
“Come on, Tim. Give me a break.”
Tim ordered a replacement for his whiskey sour. “Let’s face reality, eh? We’re next door neighbors with adjoining rooms. All we have to do is flip the little switch and voila, we have a two-bedroom suite.”
“Get real, Tim, and go slow on the booze.”
“Come on, Laura,” Tim grabbed for her again, but Laura sidestepped him, then had to reach out to steady him as he nearly lost his balance.
“You know very well I’m married, and everybody at City Hospital knows I have children. And you have been dating one of my best friends. So cool it, will you?”
“Nobody will ever know. Not your husband. Not our mutual girlfriend. Can’t you accept fate?”
Laura stared at him stonily.
“Okay, okay,” he capitulated. “At least have dinner with us. I told the guys that if I struck out with you, which they predicted I would, we’d meet at the Cafe on the second floor. It’s really casual. They serve burgers and salad and stuff.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Laura tried to sound resolute. “I’ve had my fill of hors d’oeuvres right here so I’m skipping dinner. But I do want to talk to you about tomorrow. Our flight’s at 12:30. Can we share a cab back to the airport?”
“No problem, but let’s not think about going home yet.” He still hadn’t stopped gaping at her. “The night is young.” Laura shrugged, not sure if the guy was a genuine jerk or just a harmless, lecherous drunk.
“Tell the others I’ll make arrangements for a cab at eleven in the morning. I’ll be able to get two lectures in by then. We can meet in the lobby and go from there. I can’t miss that plane. So you’d better not be hung over.”
“Home to hubby,” Tim grumbled.
“Yes. And home to your girlfriend for you. Now behave yourself, Tim. God, why do I suddenly feel like your mother?” Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 7:45 She needed to get to her room, check her messages, and grab her coat.
David had seen Laura walk into the crowded ballroom. He held her in sight the whole time while attending to obligatory chats with his colleagues, working his way around the room, sipping a glass of white wine. He couldn’t hold back the silly smile that lit up his face in the middle of a serious debate when he spotted Laura walking in the direction of the elevator bank.
Laura arrived at the lobby entrance at exactly eight. David was waiting, his gray cashmere topcoat slung casually over one arm.
“You look wonderful,” he said slowly.
Laura had arranged her hair into a sweeping swirl with a pearl studded clip. She rarely wore makeup, but tonight a hint of smoky eye shadow framed her eyes and her lashes were enhanced with just a touch of mascara. Black three-inch heels were a stark difference to the white rubber-soled nurse’s shoes she wore at the hospital. David stared at her legs.
“You look fine, yourself,” Laura returned the compliment with a wide smile, not knowing what else to say. He did look more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and as usual, extremely handsome.
He held the door for Laura as he signaled for the doorman to summon a cab.
“Merci,” he discreetly passed the uniformed man a five-dollar bill.
“Of course, monsieur. Mademoiselle, allow me to help you. It is slippery out here.”
David took Laura by the left arm, and the doorman held her right elbow until she was situated comfortably in the cab.
The wide circular drive leading from the grandiose hotel lobby to the street had been plowed, but new snow was accumulating rapidly. The effect was stunning. Thirty inches of soft, new snow covered Montreal. Traffic was only inching along — the occasional snowplow labored relentlessly only to have its path obliterated by the new falling white fluff.
“We’ve gotten over two feet since noon,” the burly cab driver declared. It’s a beaut.”
“My God, I had no idea,” exclaimed Laura. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Oui, Mademoiselle. Beautiful it is, but driving is not so good. I put on my chains about an hour ago. Without them I’d be just like those guys.” He pointed to the growing collection of cars that were either stuck or abandoned in the drifting snow.
“Lucky you two aren’t going far. It’s just a block up the street here.”
“Thanks very much.” David added a generous tip and asked the driver if he would return for them at ten and wait. He would pay him well for his time, he quickly reassured.
“Sure, buddy. Now, you two lovers have a good dinner.” He winked at David. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for you.”
David took Laura’s arm as they walked into the lobby of the restaurant. It took a few moments for them to adjust to the candlelit dimness of the room, but their mood was immediately buoyant. Those who had braved the snow had settled in for a special, cozy evening, nodding pleasantly to fellow diners.
David and Laura were escorted to a secluded table for two in the corner of an elegant dining room. The glow of long tapered candles, embellished by the elaborate fresh flower arrangements at each table, created an aura of romance.
The luxury of their surroundings evoked conflicting emotions of awe and sadness in Laura. She had never experienced such ambiance. And she was not with Steve. No
t that her husband would have appreciated all of this; he’d probably be annoyed by so much formality. He’d sit through it, but would be anxious to get back home and plop himself down in front of the television. Still, she missed her husband. She missed the Steve that she had married more than six years ago, the one who had sincerely cared about what she wanted, what they wanted together. But that was another Steve altogether than the present Steve, if she admitted the truth. At any rate, no Steve was here tonight, and Laura told herself to just enjoy these exquisite surroundings. “This is wonderful,” she said as she gazed around the sumptuous room.
David looked up as he perused the extensive wine list and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it. Do you mind if I order a bottle of wine or would you rather have a cocktail?”
“Wine would be fine, thank you,” Laura responded. “Good. That’s settled,” David said with another smile. “Now,
I’m anxious to find out what you think about the meeting so far.”
The wine steward appeared to assist with the selection. After a brief discussion of the French and California options, David chose a California chardonnay.
“Hope you’ll like it. It’s a sixty-six. Should be nice,” David predicted. “Now, where were we?”
“You had asked me what I thought of the meeting.”
“Right.” He smiled once more. “So do you think you’ll end up in surgery?” he pressed, just as the bottle of chilled white wine was presented for his approval.
After David had tasted the wine, Laura responded. “You know, Dr. Monroe, I really think the answer is ‘yes’. But surgery was my first rotation. I’m not sure how I’ll feel when I finish the other three.”
“May I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“Remember when you promised to call me David?”
“Well,” Laura hesitated. “I guess—”
“Laura,” he said softly, “could we be friends?”
“Well, yes, of course,” Laura stammered.
“You know that we got to know one another pretty well during those four days.”
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