by Dianne Drake
Anna took advantage of those seconds of interchange between Mitch and her dad to slip into her room. She was in the process of backing her door shut when Mitch pushed it open, butting her chair halfway across the room to her bed. “Come on,” he said, grabbing the wheelchair handgrips. “You need the fresh air, and I need the company.”
“You sure you want to drag me along?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of effort.” Secretly, she wanted to go—kind of, sort of. Lunch at a pub—a normal place—sounded so good. But getting her there wouldn’t be easy, and deep down she wanted it to be a real lunch date, not an obligatory make-good because he’d changed their plans. So it was better declining. That way she didn’t have to be a burden, and didn’t have to find out that he was just being nice or, worse, dutiful.
“Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want to take you along. That’s not my style, Anna.”
Three minutes later, Mitch was lifting Anna into the cab of his truck. “What’s she in jail for?” Anna ventured, not sure he would consider it any of her business. She certainly didn’t mind the feel of his arms around her, the feel of her own arms around his neck. Under different circumstances it might have been considered intimate, but under these circumstances it was just the most efficient way to transfer her from one place to another—darn it. In this case, from wheelchair to truck seat. And it was over within seconds. She was out of his arms, scooching herself into position.
“Criminal mischief,” Mitch said, hopping in next to her once he’d placed her wheelchair in the back. “She’s an environmentalist, against deforestation this year, I think. Chains herself to trees when the loggers come through, stuff like that.” He grinned. “Last year she was protesting the overcrowded conditions at one of the state’s fish hatcheries. Got herself arrested scooping buckets of catfish out of the hatchery and turning them loose in the reservoir.”
Anna laughed. “You’ve got to admire the dedication. Sure wish my dad would get himself a life.”
“Hook him up with my mom and he’ll have a full-time job.”
“He needs a full-time something…something other than me,” Anna commented, tugging her seat belt across her shoulder as Mitch pulled away from the curb. “My mom died almost five years ago now, and he’s been at a loose end ever since. I know he wouldn’t have wished the accident on me, but it’s given him a new purpose. Freeing the catfish would be a step up.”
“Sometimes I wish my mom would step down a little. I spent my childhood being dragged from cause to cause. It was a great childhood, always different. But sometimes a kid needs stability.”
“Your dad?”
Mitch flipped on the turn signal, then shrugged. “Couldn’t keep up with her, I guess. He was gone by the time I was five, and completely out of my life by the time I was seven.”
“And she never remarried?”
“She was always married to a cause. Still is.”
“Well, too bad Dad can’t find a cause other than me.”
“He will, once you can take care of yourself.”
“I was thinking more in terms of this century.” Anna settled back into her seat and stared at the passing scenery for the next five minutes. Then she was briefly back in his arms on her way into her chair. Too briefly. He had a much nicer touch than Kyle’s.
“Well, Doc, she’s getting processed out right now,” the police officer wheezed through a chuckle. “No property damage, so it ain’t gonna cost ya as much as it did last time.” He glanced at Anna, smiling. “Ma’am,” he said in friendly greeting, giving her a brief salute. “I’m Detective Ed Benedict.”
“I’m Anna Wells,” she replied, smiling.
“Well, Anna Wells, it’s mighty nice to meet you. It’s about time ol’ Mitch got himself hooked up with a pretty little thing such as yourself.” He handed a stack of release papers over to Mitch then directed him to the clerk. “You know the drill.”
“Unfortunately,” Mitch grumbled, automatically putting his name in the correct places without even reading what he was signing.
Detective Benedict pushed back in his cracked vinyl chair. “So, Anna, how long you two been together? Izzy didn’t say nothing about it, and that’s not like her.”
He actually thinks Mitch and I are together. That surprised her. And it was a pleasant surprise, having someone suppose that she could be involved with Mitch. Or, better, that Mitch would choose to be involved with her. “He’s helping me rehab,” she explained. “Nothing else.”
“Now, that surprises me, young lady. After what he went through that made him quit being a doctor, I didn’t figure him to ever go back to it. You must be mighty special, getting him to do that for you.”
Anna would have asked Detective Benedict why Mitch had quit, but there wasn’t time. Just as the notion hit her, he reappeared. “You ought to let me sign a blanket form so I don’t have to keep coming down here,” Mitch said, handing his mother’s release papers back to the detective.
“But we love your company,” Ed Benedict said, standing, “especially when you have someone so pretty with you.” He patted Anna’s hand and winked. “Like I said, mighty special.” He turned back to Mitch. “So let me see what I can do about rousting that mama of yours. She’s passing out pamphlets or something, said she wasn’t ready to leave yet.”
“Nice man,” Anna said, watching the detective plod down the hall. “He sure knows a lot about you.”
“My mother likes to talk,” Mitch said, waving to a sixty-something woman bedecked in tight jeans and tight, tight white T-shirt. Her blond hair was short, spiked. And she was a knock-out who could have passed for Mitch’s sister. Not exactly the mother image Anna had expected. “Anna, I’d like you to meet my mother, Isadora Durant. Mom, this is Anna Wells.”
“Izzy,” the woman chirped, holding out her hand to Anna. “Nice to meet you, even though Mitch hasn’t said a word about you and I had to learn all about it from Ed.” She leaned over and whispered to Anna, “Mitch is a good boy, but not very outgoing. I hope you won’t hold that against him.”
“He’s helping me rehab,” Anna said, looking up at Mitch for guidance.
Izzy winked at Anna. “Whatever you want to call it, dear. Now, if you two wouldn’t mind, I need a lift over to the county home. I hear the food they serve those poor people is a crime. I may have to chain myself to the stove or something. In fact…” She whooshed around and plopped herself down in the chair next to Ed Benedict’s desk. “Can I just fill out all the paperwork now, sweetie, since I’m already here? Save me some time later on?”
“And deprive me of the pleasure of arresting you again?” Ed Benedict smiled. “You know how much I look forward to that, Izzy. Makes my day.”
Moving to Anna’s side, Mitch commented, “See why my dad walked out on her?”
“Different visions, dear,” Izzy responded. “That’s all it was. He saw things one way and I saw them the right way. Thank God you turned out just like me.” She looked at Anna. “He makes bowls, you know. Sits out there in the woods and carves wooden bowls.” She switched her look to Mitch, narrowing her eyes. “It makes a mother proud to know her boy is doing something so useful in this world. Everybody needs a good bowl. Of course, everybody needs a good doctor, too. But as long as Mitch is happy, I’m happy.”
Lots of mother-son tension on his career change, Anna decided as the looks that passed both ways went from indulgently tolerant to bluntly waspish.
“Mitch, you said something about lunch.” Anna cut through the silent mother-son argument. “Maybe we should get your mother out to the county home so she can get chained to the stove, then we can go get that lunch you promised me.”
“Lunch?” Izzy’s rankled expression snapped immediately into interested mother. “You two are going out to lunch? Maybe I’ll just take a taxi.”
Hopping up from her seat, she gave Ed Benedict a quick peck on the cheek. “Later, sexy,” she said, sprinting out the door. Before she was outside, though, Isadora Durant turned bac
k to Anna, blew her a kiss and gave her a thumbs-up.
CHAPTER NINE
LUNCH was pretty silent for the first ten minutes of it—a fallout from Izzy, Anna guessed. Actually, she liked Izzy a lot—her spunk, her drive, her passion. Mitch was nothing like her. At least, now he wasn’t. In the past, though, when he’d been a doctor? She could picture him with that same drive and passion, but she didn’t know if that was the fantasy version or the reality. And for sure the reality, as it existed now, lacked those qualities.
She still wanted to know what had happened to him. Sure, he’d probably blow her off again. But, hey, nothing ventured, nothing learned.
“What caused you to burn out, Mitch?” she asked casually, as the waiter served up a burger so large it would take her two days to eat. It had been a long time she’d done anything other than pick at her food. “Lanli said you were a great doctor, but that one day you just walked out. And I get the feeling Izzy isn’t happy with that choice. Before you tell me it’s none of my business, though, let me tell you why it is.” Last time she’d asked it hadn’t mattered much—just conversation to fill in the pauses. Now she had a vested interest in his answer.
“You’re right. It’s none of your business. And make that two for two. My mother’s not happy with my choice, like I’m not happy about her choice to go out to the county home and protest about their food. But that’s what she does, and it’s her business, not mine,” he snapped. “Just like my reason for quitting medicine.”
“Yeah, I know. Your business. But guess what, Mitch? I have a stake in that business now, because you’re helping me, and I want to know if I can count on that—count on you. I mean, are you going to walk out on me one day like you did your job?” Thin ice here, and judging from the frown on his face she guessed she might be on the verge of crashing through it into the chilly waters below. She was taking a big chance, depending on him the way she was. And she had to know if she could take that chance, considering it was a very long road ahead, one she’d be measuring by fractions of inches, if she decided to stay on it.
“Izzy is accomplishing something worthwhile, Mitch. Or at least trying to. You know what it’s like to accomplish something worthwhile and, sure, you know the other side of that, too. So do I, actually. I’ve worked my butt off to save the life of a patient who simply does not survive no matter what I’ve done, and I’ve worked my butt off to save someone who does. Either way it’s all worthwhile because at the time you don’t know the outcome, and even if you did, you wouldn’t walk away.
“So maybe the one thing you’ve never thought about is what’s worthwhile from the patient’s point of view. And me knowing why you quit is definitely worth my while since it could have a direct bearing on how I progress or don’t progress.”
Time to shut up and eat. Let him think about it, or not. Funny how just a few days ago she hadn’t wanted any part of this…or him. Too much effort, too much doubt, and she was, in her own estimation, not worthwhile. That was changing—maybe not a hard change that came with a blood, sweat and tears commitment yet, but a commitment of sorts, nevertheless. And she wanted to believe it was in her. More than that, she needed to believe it was in him.
Anna trusted Mitch, but she needed to know if she could trust that trust. Now it was time to wait for his move…if he was going to make one. Back to the burger—which was delicious, but after three bites Anna was already filling up.
“You’re not through with that, are you?” he asked. “You’ve barely touched it.”
She pushed it away. “I don’t eat much.”
“Yeah, and it shows. If you want to work out, build up muscle mass and strength, you’ve got to eat.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Anna said.
“The subject is about building you back up. The rest of it doesn’t matter. So eat the burger. All of it, including the pickle, and when you’re done I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Really?”
Mitch nodded. “One-time offer, because part of what you said does make some sense, and you do have a right to know since what I do affects you. But it isn’t going to be that easy.” He grinned. “You get what I’ve got after every crumb is gone. No stuffing it in your pocket for Ralphie.”
“Alrighty, then…” Anna looked at the burger, thanked heaven she hadn’t ordered fries, and sucked in a deep breath. Six months ago she could have done this, with fries, then gone back for a hot fudge sundae. “Excuse me for a few minutes while I eat. Does that include the lettuce? Because I hate lettuce on my burger.”
“Care for more mayo with that?” Mitch asked, sliding his little crock of mayonnaise across the table to her. “More onion or tomato?”
Anna shook her head. “I’m fine,” she managed between bites.
She was slowing down. Half of her burger still to eat, and she was beginning to turn up her nose at every bite. Cute nose. He liked the way it crinkled. Her top lip crinkled when her nose did, and he liked that, too.
One thing about Anna, she was a looker. Even in her devitalized state she had what it took to turn a head…his head, anyway. But what man didn’t like to look at a gorgeous blonde? And she sure as hell was that. Under different circumstances…No, he wasn’t going to torture himself that way. Under different circumstances they wouldn’t have met, and he wouldn’t be sitting here practically aroused because she had the sexiest way of chewing food he’d ever laid eyes on. So slow, so methodical…And hell, the way she licked her lips…
Mitch exhaled a long, deep, astounded sigh. He would have dated Anna once upon a time, when he’d dated. Which he didn’t now, hadn’t since—well, since he’d quit being a doctor. Not that one thing had anything to do with the other. But when he’d burned out, he’d burned out in pretty much everything. And she did have a right to know why. So much of the rehabilitation process was the mental effort, the psychological umph put into it. Anna wasn’t even on the verge of that yet, but she was beginning to creep up on it, and she was afraid that once she got there, he would be gone. A valid fear.
“Mustard? Ketchup? Relish?”
Anna shook her head and kept on chewing. She was turning a little green, he thought. Fighting a battle that was fighting her back. And maybe that was good. Maybe the only thing that moved her forward was an in-her-face challenge, instead of the basic confrontation approach he’d been using. Tell her she couldn’t, then watch her struggle to prove that she could.
That was almost as sexy as the way she chewed. Someone to rise to his challenge.
Damn, what was he thinking about? She was sexy, but he didn’t need the baggage. He wasn’t over all his old baggage, and Anna was toting some pretty hefty steamer trunks of her own. But he wasn’t going on that cruise, which meant he simply couldn’t watch her eat or he’d be tempted to. So as she finished off the last of her burger, he stared out the window, trying to conjure up an image of Izzy chained to a stove. Like she’d even know what a stove was.
“Done,” Anna announced, reaching for her iced tea. “Now it’s your turn.” He’d been awfully quiet while she’d been eating. Probably holding his breath he wouldn’t have to ’fess up. Too bad, she thought.
“Pick up the lettuce,” he said. “Let me see what’s hiding under it.”
“You mean besides you trying to back out of our deal?” Anna picked up the leaf of anemic iceberg and threw it at him. “See, not even a crumb.” And she was proud of it. Sure, it was only a hamburger, and in the scheme of things it didn’t count for much, except that he hadn’t thought she could eat the whole thing, and she had. A small victory. It felt good to be on the winning side for a change. “So now it’s time to tell me all your deep, dark secrets.”
“Let’s see. The first time I had sex…” He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. “College freshman, frat party. Lots of beer. I think she was my English instructor.”
“You think?”
He smiled. “Well, let’s just say I’d like to think she was,
and leave it at that. Anything else? I don’t really remember my second time. Want me to just skip on over to my last time?”
“You know what I want, Mitch, and you’re trying to change the subject, just like you always do.” Backing away from the table to allow the waiter to clear the dishes, Anna waited until he was bustling away before she continued. “It’s up to you. If you don’t want to tell me why you quit, that’s OK. I won’t ask again.” And she wouldn’t. Sure, she wanted to know. The nurse in her was curious why a good doctor would simply walk away. The patient in her needed to know if that possibility loomed in her future. And the rest of her wanted to know because…well, she was beginning to like Mitch. He was fast becoming an important part of her life and she was just plain curious. Not so curious that she would nag him into something he didn’t want to do, though.
“So, do you think we need to go bail out your mom yet?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject, giving him an out if he wanted it.
Grimacing, Mitch closed his eyes. “I really didn’t think you could eat the whole thing.”
Anna waited for more, but he was quiet for almost a minute. Trying to dredge it out maybe? Or perhaps looking for a way to evade it? “I’m ready to leave,” she finally said. “I’m getting tired. Need to go home, take a nap.” Once she was home she’d never mention it again.
“In a minute.” He breathed in a deep, steadying breath then exhaled it slowly and finally opened his eyes, but didn’t look at Anna. Didn’t look at anything in particular except the street outside. Maybe not even that—maybe he was staring at something he hadn’t faced in a long time, something Anna was beginning to think she didn’t have a right to invade.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, I do.” His gaze shifted to her. “And I’d have told you even if you hadn’t eaten the whole burger.”
“That’s low down.” Anna laughed.
“Sometimes you do what you have to do.” He smiled half-heartedly. “Anyway, when Izzy said I was like her, she was right…to a point. Her whole life has been about making things better in the world, and some of that did rub off on me. A lot of it, I guess, which is why I went to med school, to make things better. I couldn’t go out on the activist trail like Izzy. That’s not me. But being a doctor—that’s where I thought I belonged. Working with people like…” He paused, shrugging. “Like you, Anna. Believe it or not, unlike you, most of my patients didn’t resist me. They always had expectations, hopes…big hopes. They’d come to me in some form of battered, broken body and expect me to make them better, to perform miracles. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn’t. And the didn’t was getting to me. Problem was, there was nothing I could do about it. Some damage is irreparable, and it just got too damn hard, telling them they weren’t going to be one of the lucky ones.”
