“I’m sure.”
He stopped before he left the kitchen, gray suit slacks fitting perfectly, white dress shirt tucked in over a flat stomach, his muscular arms apparent through the sleeves. She didn’t want to notice any of it, but couldn’t help herself. He turned round and studied her, as if seeing her for the first time. Maybe he was wondering what he was doing, letting a stranger share his home. Or maybe he sensed the new, determined Polly, the one eager to take life by the horns again. She honestly couldn’t tell from the gaze he gave her. Neither did she care.
“I’ll try not to make any scenes at work today.”
Well, that was something anyway. She cocked her head and tossed him an it’s-about-time look. “Good, because that stuff gets old, fast.” Then took another drink of coffee, rather than let her heart soften one tiny bit more.
He twitched a sad smile with resigned eyes, and left.
She heard the front door click closed, and she ate the rest of her cereal feeling curiously alone. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be living here much longer.
Before she left for work, she ventured down the hall to John’s study, deciding to check it out just this once. At first glance it was a typical office with dark wood desk, blotter, computer and printer. Piles of medical journals covered one section.
Something on the book case against the wall caught her eye. A small glass orb sitting on a solid gold holder with the inscription “Forever”, and inside the orb two wedding rings lay overlapped. Not only did Lisa live on in his heart, she lived real as life itself in his office. Polly had wondered what precious object John had kept from Lisa. It turned out he’d kept the whole marriage. His vows had gone beyond “till death do us part.” Evidently they extended for ever. She had never stood a chance.
“Darren,” she said later that morning at work, “is there any way you can help me move this weekend?”
“That bad, huh?” The ex-navy man may have let his body go, but his posture was always erect. He turned to look into her eyes. “Are you sure it’s the right thing to do? I mean, you just moved in.”
“It’s a long story, Dare. I just need to get away. I don’t have much stuff. All I need is one car trip to the Lower East Side, otherwise I’ll have to make a dozen trips on the subway.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “I’ll help you. Does he know?”
“Here’s the deal. I want my moving out to have some impact. If I come out and tell him, he’ll just say … whatever, and I need him to feel something. Other than anger, he’s forgotten how to feel.”
She folded her arms and chewed her lower lip. “I probably don’t mean anything to him any more, but I want him to be hit by my not being there.” She shook her head, giving a brief exhalation through her nose. “He probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Darren leveled a serious look at her. “You don’t see it, but I do. That guy is crazy mad in love with you. Men don’t process stuff the same way women do. Maybe you should be patient.”
“I’ve been patient all my life, Dare. I’m done. All I’ve ever done was tag along, grateful to have a place to live, grateful for whatever crumbs I got. I need more than that now. I deserve it.”
“We all deserve things. Life doesn’t always co-operate, that’s all. Take Dr. Rodriguez and Dr. Woods that everyone has been talking about these last several weeks. They were supposed to be in love and some lawsuit got in the way. Here’s a little surprise for you—everyone has them broken up for good, but not me. Everyone say’s they’ve got too much to overcome and they’re both too stubborn, but not me. I see how he watches her whenever they’re both on our ward. She acts all ‘oh, he doesn’t know I exist’ but he’s totally aware of her.
“That’s how it is with Dr. Griffin and you. Polly, the man has lost everything in his life, now you’re leaving him, too. I’m your friend and I’m asking you to think about not moving out. Maybe just give it some more time.”
Surprised by how observant Darren had been, she stared at him and considered his caution.
“I don’t have any more time. I’m a shadow in John’s house and I need to be so much more than that. Until he snaps out of it, I may as well be a ghost.” She put her hand on Darren’s arm. “I can’t be a ghost any more. Thank you for being my friend and helping me move.”
“Sure, kid. Someone’s got to look out for a small-town girl like you in the Big Apple.”
She hugged him and they spent the rest of their lunch hour working out the details. Polly knew John liked to go to his athletic club on Sunday afternoons for racketball, and she planned to be gone by the time he got home.
On Monday morning John waited for Polly to get up, but didn’t hear a thing. He’d gotten home late last night as after racketball he’d gone out to dinner with Carl, his friend since childhood, had laid the whole sorry tale at the guy’s feet and had gotten some insight on what a jackass he’d been. Most importantly, Carl had given him some solid advice. This morning John put his wedding rings inside a box and packed them away in the office closet. Lisa was gone. She was never coming back. Polly was here. Alive.
Her door had been closed when he’d come home last night, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her, even though he’d had some major apologies to make and had found it hard to wait to get them off his chest. Regardless, he’d gone directly to bed.
Why did the place feel so deadly quiet this morning? The hairs on his arms rose. He knocked and jiggled the doorhandle. “Polly?”
He opened the door to an empty room. Every breath of life she’d brought into his world had dissipated. The effect of negative air sucked the wind from his lungs.
She’d left him. After the total ass he’d been lately, why should he be surprised?
Entering her room, a pang of loneliness dug so deep it may as well have taken him by the lapels and thrown him against the wall. She was gone. Had left without saying goodbye.
He walked around the room, inhaling the tell-tale scent of Polly. Lemon water and flowery bath gel, and the bouquet of her gloriously wavy hair on the pillow. God, he missed her. He’d played his hand so incompetently he didn’t deserve to have her back. But how could he go on without her?
He searched the room. Circling the bed, he found the table drawer ajar. Inside, something pink caught his eye. He pulled open the drawer and discovered a pair of tiny booties. One pink. One blue.
The air went out of his lungs again as he realized the significance, as his heart squeezed with anguish. With eyes stinging, the whisper of what John had lost became reality. Their baby was gone. He’d lost another part of himself to tragedy.
How much more could he bear?
Tears tracked down his cheeks as he sat on the bed and fingered the tiny slippers, perfectly knit by Polly. How long would he punish himself for his mistakes? Something crackled inside the pink slipper and he put his index finger inside, practically filling the entire bootie, and found a small folded piece of tissue-thin paper.
Opening it, he had to squint several times to clear the burning tears blurring his vision.
Dear Caledonia (Callie) or Sterling (Mort)
Oh, God, how was he supposed to be able to read the note? His heartache deflated and oozed out onto his skin, making him fragile and achy.
Polly had written a letter to their miscarried baby. He swallowed, unsuccessfully, the knot of anguish in his throat and continued to read.
I know it’s foolish to write you this letter, but I needed to tell you how happy I was when I found out you were growing inside me. I’ve never been so lucky in my life. For once I would have somebody to love with all of my heart, someone who would look up to me and love me back.
I remember my mother, and I know how important a mother is. I miss her as much as I miss you. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to know you, or to be your mommy. We would have been so happy …
Pain tore at John’s throat and down his chest. He could hardly breathe it hurt so much. She’d taken the words he’d buried inside and put them on
paper. He wanted to be a father more than anything, but had been afraid to admit it. He’d substituted his young patients for his lost child. How could such a young woman as Polly be so much wiser than him?
John clenched his jaws and cried silently over all he’d lost. Soon the intensity of his grief and loss overcame him. Foreign, keening sounds emitted from his throat over everything gone or dead in his life. Finally, he let it all out. He hadn’t sobbed this much since 9/11.
Oh, God. But Polly was alive. He’d practically ignored her and now he’d let the best thing to happen to him in over a decade slip away. What a fool he was.
Polly was the most honest person he’d ever met. She’d been kicked in the gut by life yet had refused to lie down. She was optimism and energy and sweetness in the flesh. Instead of burying her feelings the way he had, she’d put them on paper and written to her unborn child. She’d suffered terribly, losing the baby, and when she’d needed him most, what had he done? He’d pulled inward, sent her to the guest room, as if turning his back on her.
How stupid could a guy get?
Maybe it was time for him to quit kicking himself. Sure, he’d screwed up plenty, but Polly was living proof that a life could change. He wanted to change for her.
He’d made so many mistakes—too many to count—but he couldn’t let Polly be one of them. He loved her. Absolutely. He did. There was no doubt in his mind. And he missed her, with all the enthusiasm and spirit she’d brought to his dull life. He craved her, the desire and lust she’d reawakened in him. She’d made his life so much better on countless levels.
But more than anything, he needed her back.
She’d never felt wanted since her mother had died, and he couldn’t change that, but he sure as hell could change her not feeling wanted by him! She deserved to know without a doubt that she was loved, and cherished, and would be for the rest of her life if she’d just give him a second chance.
There was only one way to get his point across. In person. He picked up the phone, called work, spoke to Brooke and made sure Polly was there.
He ran down the hall and splashed some water in his face, then did everything in his power to make himself look presentable. He wanted to look good the next time he faced the love for the rest of his life.
Polly flushed the line in the IV piggyback after delivering the antibiotics to four-year-old Jeffrey Pomeroy the third. The adorable little boy slept soundly even though he was inside a body cast that defied the word “comfort”.
When she’d disposed of the syringe she noticed Dr. Woods across the ward, looking at a computer. Not more than fifteen feet away stood Dr. Rodriguez, pretending to read a report, but he was watching her. How could the woman not feel that smoldering gaze? Before long, Dr. Woods’s pretty blonde head lifted and her gaze drifted towards and locked with Dr. Rodriguez’s dark and mesmerizing stare. Quicker than a hummingbird, her eyes flitted away, but it was undeniably there, that one intense second had said it all—they definitely weren’t over by a long shot. Polly shook her head and smiled to herself. That Darren knew a lot more than he let on.
She went back into the patient room and prepared to give her second patient a bed bath. All the while she thought about Dr. Woods and Dr. Rodriguez, and the one person she couldn’t get out of her head or heart, John.
“Polly Seymour?” She heard John’s distinct voice echo off the walls. “Polly. Get out here!” He’d promised to behave after last Friday’s outburst. Oh, God, had he lost it altogether? Would someone be calling Security and taking him away soon?
Sheepishly peeking around the threshold first, she ventured out of the patient room. Anything to quiet him down until Security could arrive. The poor patients and their families didn’t need to be subjected to his unpredictable and escalating mood swings. The constant ache in her heart since she’d left him panged deeper.
Of course a crowd had assembled to watch the poor man’s demise. Brooke and Rafael, Darren, not looking the least bit alarmed, and all the other nurses and technicians she’d grown to know and enjoy from working with them. Even Dr. Woods and Dr. Rodriguez were there, still exchanging quick passionate glances, while lingering on the fringes of the group, most likely wondering what was going on with their colleague. Everyone huddled around the nurses’ station, watching John, who looked amazingly dashing for a man on the verge of professional suicide.
“Polly.” He spoke the word now, softened the tone of his voice, as if her appearance had taken the edge off. He smiled an honest-to-God, no mistaking expression of his happiness at seeing her.
Though shaking inside, she hoped beyond hope that if she played it cool and calculated she could de-escalate his impending meltdown. Polly schooled her voice. “Yes, John?” She could humor him until the hospital security squad arrived.
“You forgot something.”
She stood cemented to the spot, her heart rapping a wild rhythm all the way up to her ears, watching as he pulled out the booties from the pocket of his doctor’s jacket. Heat started at her clavicles and traveled to her neck, soon invading her cheeks. He’d found them. He’d discovered she’d let herself get so carried away with loving and longing for her baby that she’d knitted booties. Booties for a baby who would never be born.
Did he think she was pitiful?
“I need you to finish these,” he said. “No. That’s not entirely true.” His voice was now low enough for only those in the front row of the crowd to hear. Others got on tiptoe and leaned in towards the spectacle of their department chief confronting the newest staff nurse. “What I need … is you. You, Polly. The thing is, I finally realize I can’t live without you.”
He came toward her, took her hand, and that tender look he’d had after each time they’d made love was back in his eyes.
“I love you, Polly. You belong with me. You’ve got to finish these booties because we’re going to need them. After you marry me and …”
Applause broke out. Time stopped. With her heart reeling, she quickly glanced around the room, catching Dr. Woods and Dr. Rodriguez smiling at each other. Beside them, Darren grinned first at the lovebird doctors then at her.
“I told you so,” Darren mouthed.
Real time snapped back in, ungluing Polly from the spot, and she grabbed John by the elbow and whisked him away to the consultation room at the far end of the ward. She closed the door. What she had to say needed to be said in private.
“What makes you think I want to marry you?”
He wore a goofy grin and dreamy eyes, and she could tell there would be no reasoning with him. “Because you’re a smart girl, and I love you, and I want you in my life.” His fingertips traced the length of her jaw.
She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling for guidance. No one had ever wanted her before, but that was no reason to let him seduce her with words.
He grasped her neck, brought her head up straight in line with his lips and delivered a tender, sincere kiss. Nothing fancy, just his warm lips to her startled ones, and she felt his touch all the way down to the tips of her toes.
“I was a total jerk after the miscarriage, but I’ve come to my senses.” He dangled the booties before her eyes as if to hypnotize her. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Left these behind.”
She glanced at his delving, dark eyes and quickly studied a speck on his white doctor’s coat. “Maybe.”
He took both of her hands in his. “I know you’ve never really felt like you belonged anywhere, honey, but I’m the guy to end it. The buck stops with me. I’m your man. The one who loves you. I’m the man who wants to spend the rest of his life with you.” He looked so deeply into her eyes she was positive he could read her brainwaves, which were dancing around erratically and happily over his proposal. “So I guess the question of the day is, do you love me?”
Tiny pins stabbed behind her eyes as tears that she’d sworn she’d never cry again for John Griffin materialized. “I couldn’t bear it if you ever shut me out again, John. You have to
promise me you’ll always talk to me no matter how hard or how horrible your feelings are.”
He held her arms and kept her steady. Steady as his warm brown gaze. “I promise to love and honor you, to share the good, the bad, and the ugly, whether you want to hear it or not.” His lopsided smile appeared. “How’s that for opening up?”
How could she not adore a face like that? A tiny laugh escaped her trembling lips.
“I do love you, Johnny.”
His smile morphed into a huge grin and spread from jaw to jaw as he took her into his arms. “So it’s settled, then.” He grew serious and kissed her again, this time with much more gusto, enough to spread warmth across her chest and make her toes curl in her clogs. After several more seconds of deeply attentive kisses dazzling enough to make her head swim and her heart believe he truly wanted and loved her, he stopped.
“Then let’s blow this joint and get married, dumpling. Do you like the sound of that? The married part, I mean?”
Staring into the eyes of the man she’d fallen head over heels in love with on short notice, the man she’d run the gamut of any other long-term relationship in her life, but this time on hyper-speed, she could only think of one succinct yet most appropriate answer.
“I do.”
EPILOGUE
Eleven months later …
“BE CAREFUL!” JOHN SAID, jumping up to help Polly walk across the living room.
“I’m fine, Johnny, seriously.” She held her swollen belly as if it might fall off her body if she didn’t, and wobbled toward the kitchen.
John tagged along behind her. “How’s the back?”
“Achy,” she said, looking into the face of the man she loved and trusted more than anyone on earth, “but I’ll survive.”
“I’ve got your suitcase packed and ready to go, just like the midwife instructed,” he said, hovering like a penguin on a newborn. “Say the word and we’ll go to the hospital.”
Polly put her hands on her back, the habit she’d developed during the last few months of her pregnancy, and smiled at John. “It’s not quite time yet, honey-bunches, but thanks.”
NYC Angels: Making the Surgeon Smile Page 15
