“Susan is very smart, very beautiful and I love her more than I have words to tell,” Markham said.
“But.”
“Hmm?”
“I heard a ‘but’ in that sentence.”
“You’re a doctor,” Markham said. “You know how punishing the profession can be. The hours. The interrupted dinners. The ruined holidays. At first it seemed like Susan enjoyed being a doctor’s wife, yet after a few years she decided she needed more. She wanted to have her own identity, her own career. I was all for it. I encouraged her to go back to school; encouraged her to get her Masters. Only now it seems what she really wanted all along was to stop being a doctor’s wife.”
“Is that why you’re flirting with a woman you barely know?”
“Well, it helps that the woman is lovely and smart.” He was taking a helluva chance, Markham knew. Still, they were staying at a resort casino after all: slot machines, blackjack tables, poker rooms, even bingo. “Why are you flirting with a man you barely know?” he asked.
“Because…” She shook her head like it was a subject too painful to discuss. “Because the man is handsome and smart. Let it go at that.”
“I didn’t come here looking for a fling.”
“But you could be talked into it.”
“You could talk me into it.”
“I haven’t done—I’ve never tried to do anything like this before.”
“Anything like what?”
“Seduce a man I don’t know.”
He shoots, he scores, Markham’s inner voice shouted. “Well, it worked,” he said aloud.
“Has it?”
“I know I’m having a very difficult time keeping my hands off you.”
Kathryn glanced discreetly about the restaurant, trying to examine every face while pretending not to. Finally, she asked, “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I was scheduled to play golf, but I’d rather spend time with you.”
“No, play golf.” Kathryn’s voice was emphatic. “If you break your appointments, people will wonder why and I won’t become a source of gossip. People know me here and I don’t want them to think that we’re, that we’re...”
“Sleeping together?”
Kathryn pushed back her chair. The legs made a scrapping sound on the carpet that caused Markham’s heart to jump. She’s getting away. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said.
“I’m not offended,” Kathryn said. “But people talk, don’t they?”
“Kathryn…”
“I want to be with you, only not in a crowd. Not so anyone can see.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Give me your cell phone number. I’ll call and tell you where I am.”
“When?”
“Whenever. You’ll take the call and tell whomever you’re with that something requires your immediate attention—that’s what doctors do, right? They run off to things that require their immediate attention.”
“What if I can’t get away?”
“Then that will be the end of that.”
Markham slid his business card across the table and the woman slipped it into her bag. “You don’t strike me as a woman who plays games, Kathryn,” he said.
“Consider it a test of character, Doctor. If you pass, who knows, tomorrow I might let you sit next to me at the seminar for Angiogenesis Inhibitors in Clinical Trials.”
“Will we hold hands?”
Kathryn rose from her chair. Her voice was loud and clear. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”
Markham also stood. He extended his hand. “The pleasure was entirely mine, Doctor,” he said.
“You pay for lunch,” Kathryn whispered.
Markham watched as she glided out of the restaurant and disappeared into the resort. “That went well,” he said to no one in particular.
Markham signaled for the check. Before it arrived, a tall, thin man dressed like he was going sailing slid into the chair that Kathryn had occupied.
“Who was that?”
“Gee, Stephen. Don’t be shy. Have a seat.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“French fry?”
Markham pushed Kathryn’s plate forward. She had eaten the entire teriyaki chicken sandwich she had ordered, yet didn’t touch the rest of the meal.
Stephen took three fries and stuffed them into his mouth. He spoke around them. “So, who was that?”
“A doctor from Arizona.” Markham couldn’t remember where in Arizona; he hadn’t been listening that hard when Kathryn told him. “We met at the seminar this morning.”
“Why were you having lunch with her?”
Markham stared at the man over the rim of his iced tea. “Just comparing notes,” he said.
“Of course,” Stephen said. “Silly question. Her legs didn’t factor into it at all.”
“Stephen…”
“Are you going to tell Susan about her?”
“I don’t tell Susan about everyone I have lunch with? How about you?”
That last was less a question than it was an accusation and Stephen knew it. He smiled and ate a few more fries. “I only tell her about the women,” he said.
“What’s your story, anyway?” Markham asked.
“When Susan learned that we were both attending the same medical convention, she told me to keep an eye on you.” As he spoke, he pointed two fingers at his eyes, turned them and pointed the same fingers at Markham’s eyes, then repeated the gesture twice more.
“Stop it,” Markham said.
“Just looking out for my sister-in-law’s interests.”
“The fact that your brother is married to Susan’s sister does not make you her brother-in-law.”
“Honorary brother-in-law.”
Markham sighed deeply, dramatically. Stephen snooping around with Kathryn about to call at any minute—I need this, he told himself. I really do.
“You have no right to interpose yourself into my affairs,” he said.
“Affairs. What a splendid way to put it.”
“Stephen, I don’t know how you got it into your head that I’m cheating on Suz—”
“You’ve done it before.”
The check came. Markham scribbled his room number and name across it and gave it back to the waitress. He waited for her to depart before he spoke.
“That’s past history. Susan and I have dealt with the issue and moved on. Not that it’s any of your business, but you should do the same.”
“You’ve cheated before. You’ll do it again.”
“Seriously, Stephen. This jealousy of yours—it’s getting old. Susan’s married to me. She loves me. I know you have this fantasy of the two of you running away together, but it’s not going to happen.”
“If you were out of the picture—”
“Not going to happen. If Susan wanted a divorce all she’d have to do is ask. Only she doesn’t want a divorce. She didn’t want one when things between us were rocky. She won’t ask for one now when our marriage is solid.”
“Good Catholic girls like Susan don’t get divorced.”
“Then you’re screwed, aren’t you, pal?” Markham rose from the table and gave the other man a playful slap on the back. “We need to find you a girl.”
Markham shot a half dozen strokes above his handicap, costing him sixty-five dollars and bragging rights to the two doctors and a pharmaceutical rep that completed his foursome. He blamed Kathryn. Every time he tried to visualize his shot, he would see her—usually in various stages of undress. Plus, there were the dozen times he checked his cell phone. Only he didn’t use her as an excuse, instead asking the other golfers, “Did I tell you about my sore shoulder?” every time he shanked a ball. Discretion—he figured that was the least he could give her considering what she was about to give him. Besides, he told himself, with Stephen on the prowl he needed to be careful.
After seeing to his clubs, Markham joined his companions on the outdoor patio adjacent to the
clubhouse. Three rounds of drinks were consumed, all paid for with the money he had lost. While he joked and drank he thought he saw someone he knew on the short staircase that led from the patio to the rich, green golf course. But the woman’s back was turned and she quickly descended the steps before he could get a good look at her. Still, his stomach had an express-elevator-going-down feeling and his face became pale enough that the pharmaceutical rep asked, “Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine,” Markham said. “I was just remembering the double-bogey on thirteen.” His friends all thought that was pretty funny and a moment later he was laughing, too.
The resort was divided into five parts: the golf course and clubhouse, Heritage Center, marina, casino and resort. From where he sat, Markham could see the roof and upper floors of the latter two buildings. After the third round, the golfers went their separate ways. Markham drifted toward the resort, about a short par four away. As he rounded the clubhouse he heard a voice. “Hello, Doctor.” Markham pivoted toward it. Barely ten feet stretched between him and the woman he was sure he had seen on the staircase. Only he was nothing if not adaptable. Instead of showing fear, this time Markham forced a smile.
“Caroline,” he said. He moved forward and engulfed her in his arms. She didn’t resist the hug, but she didn’t hug him back, either. “What are you doing here?”
“My job,” Caroline said.
There was rancor in her voice. Markham pretended not to hear it. Seeing her in Northern Minnesota was unexpected, certainly. Still, he was a doctor. He was trained to deal with the unexpected.
“That’s right,” Markham said. He kissed her cheek. “You work for the drug company.”
“You remember.”
“Of course, I remember. I only wish I knew you were here, earlier. We could have had lunch. We could have had breakfast.” He gave that last word added emphasis. They had had breakfast together once before.
Caroline folded her arms across her chest. “You never called,” she said.
“I wanted to. I must have picked up the phone a dozen times.”
“But you didn’t call.”
“How could I, sweetie?” Markham’s voice was suddenly filled with regret. “Were we together? Were we ever going to be together? You knew about Susan. You knew…”
Markham turned his head away so the young woman couldn’t see the tears that would have been in his eyes if only he had learned how to cry on cue. Something to work on, he told himself. Maybe take an acting class. He felt Caroline’s hand on his arm. He covered it with his own hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Is she any better?” Caroline’s voice had changed, too. It swung from animosity to commiseration, just as Markham had predicted. Caroline, he knew, could be had.
“No. She had been taking these drugs…”
“Tysabri?” Caroline asked.
“And the Interferons. They don’t seem to do much good. She just gets weaker and weaker. She’s so tired all the time. She hates it.”
“My mother had MS, too.”
“You have every right to be angry, Caroline.”
“No, no…”
“Only what could I do? Desert my chronically ill wife because I found love with a younger, more beautiful woman? How could I do that to Susan? What kind of man would I be? You wouldn’t want to be with a man like that.”
“No, you can’t leave her.”
“And calling you, hearing your voice, knowing we couldn’t be together—it was just too much to bear.”
Markham hugged the woman’s shoulder, buzzed her hair, then abruptly stepped back. “You look terrific,” he said. “Just terrific. Are you staying in the resort? Walk back with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Caroline, you have to forgive me”
“Oh, I do, I do forgive you.”
Markham sighed with relief, but Caroline heard something else. Her arm hooked around his and she guided him down a path away from both the resort and clubhouse.
“I want to be with you like we were before, I really do,” she said. “Only, we need to be careful. They inserted an ethics clause in my contract. If my company discovered I slept with a client, I could lose my job.”
“No one else needs to know.” Even as he said it, Markham instinctively glanced at his watch. He wondered briefly when Kathryn would call; what would he do if she called right now?
“What do you think?” Caroline asked. They had halted in front of a low-slung cabin that looked from the outside like something early pioneers might have hewed out of the wilderness, provided they had an excellent sense of design.
“Very rustic,” Markham said.
“It has three bedrooms, a full kitchen, living room, sauna, wet bar…” It also had a cedar deck that overlooked a pond and they were soon standing on it. “The company turned over all of the bungalows to its reps and left the resort to you guys. I think they wanted to make sure we got a break from each other.”
“I wouldn’t want a break from you,” Markham said. His arm circled the woman’s waist and pulled her close. He kissed her mouth. Caroline returned the kiss, but after a moment she broke it off.
“Come inside,” she said and pulled him into the bungalow. She closed the door and stood with her back to Markham, gazing out the window at the empty path beyond. “My roommates will be back soon.”
Markham rested his hands on the young woman’s shoulder. “How soon?” he asked.
Caroline leaned backward against him.
“That time when we were together, I wasn’t looking for a fling,” Markham said. “When I met you in the bar and we started talking, I thought, hey, here’s an interesting, intelligent woman. We seemed to have so much in common. We even have the same favorite song. What were the odds of that?”
“Someone To Watch Over Me,” Caroline said.
Markham was glad she remembered the title; he hadn’t. His hands slid slowly down her bare arms, his fingertips gently caressed her flesh. She had goosebumps.
“I didn’t think about us being together until we were on the elevator and I asked you what floor,” Markham said.
“And I said five.”
“And I was on eight.”
“And the doors opened at five.”
“And you didn’t get off.”
“Oh, God.”
Caroline spun in Markham’s arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. Markham was about to ask which of the three bedrooms belonged to her when Caroline pushed him away.
“Not now,” she said. “Later. Tell me your room number and I’ll meet you later.”
Only later had been reserved for Kathryn.
“I… we’ll see,” Markham said.
The expression his remark put on Caroline’s face frightened him. He actually took two steps backward.
“Why won’t you tell me?” she said. “Are you seeing someone else? You are, aren’t you? You’re seeing someone else.”
Just like that, Markham was tap-dancing on the edge of a scalpel. He knew Caroline would never confess to Susan that she was banging her husband. But tell her that someone else was sleeping with him—well, why wouldn’t she? Women scorned, they need to stick together, don’t they?
“Of course I not seeing anyone else,” he said.
“You are.”
The last time Markham had heard a voice sound that accusatory was years ago in an emergency room when a mother confronted the teenager who had just whacked her daughter with a car.
“Listen to me, Caroline.”
“Damn you.”
Caroline took three quick steps and pushed violently against Markham’s chest. The momentum forced him backward. She pushed him again, but this time she didn’t have a running start and he held his ground. When she attempted to pound his chest with clenched fists, he caught both of her wrists and pulled her close.
“Stop it,” he snarled. “There are two women in my life. There’s Susan and then there’s you. No one else. Now stop it.”
“I just want to
be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too. But I have a brother-in-law here who’s been watching me and I have to be careful.”
“A brother-in-law? At the resort?”
“Yes.”
Caroline covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I thought… oh, God.”
Markham wrapped her in his arms. “It’s okay, it’s all right,” he told her.
“I thought…”
“I don’t blame you.”
Markham sighed. Another bullet dodged, he told himself. He stole a look at his watch. Kathryn was going to call at any moment and if Caroline saw them together… He had a thought that made him smile.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said.
“What about your brother-in-law?”
“We’ll ask him to join us.”
Caroline seemed terrified by the prospect. “Your brother-in-law?”
“That’s kind of a joke, we’re not really related. But here’s the thing—he’s a doctor and I’m a doctor and you’re a rep. Why wouldn’t we get together for dinner? What could be more innocent? You can even make it a business dinner; give us your sales pitch.” And pay the check, Markham thought but didn’t say. “Afterwards,” Caroline brightened at the word, “we’ll go to the casino. And then, who knows?”
“I always lose when I gamble,” Caroline said.
“Not me.”
Dr. Brookline was an old man and some on his staff—including Markham—actively pushed for his retirement. Even now he sat at a glass table on the resort’s back patio, studying the handouts the pharmaceutical companies distributed because he was terrified that the advances in medicine would pass him by. Markham tried to avoid him, only Brookline saw him before he could escape.
“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Brookline said. He gestured for Markham to sit. Markham sat.
Full House Page 9
