Healing the Doctor's Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  “Not when you think you’ve got the world at your feet.”

  Jake hadn’t intended to, but he looked at his arm, a sharp reminder of how fragile our bodies really were.

  “Glad you made it to twenty-three,” she said.

  Jake stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. Slipping her own hand through his arm, they started walking toward the Lincoln Memorial.

  “No tickets required for this one,” he told her.

  They spent most of the day walking. When they were tired or weak from the humidity, they’d grab a drink from one of the many vendors and take a seat in the park. By dinnertime they were in Georgetown.

  “There used to be a trolley that ran here,” Jake said. “Some of the tracks are still in the street.” Lauren looked where he pointed.

  They went in and out of the many shops that Georgetown was known for.

  “We should get something to eat and head back,” Lauren said.

  The sun had begun to set and it would be dark soon. “We could stay the night and drive back tomorrow,” Jake suggested.

  Lauren frowned, but he could tell she was considering it.

  “How about it? Then we could have a long, leisurely dinner and not worry about driving in the dark.”

  “This from a man who used to run out in traffic just to stop the cars.”

  “That man has more sense now.”

  “All right. I’ll see if I can make us a reservation somewhere.”

  “No need,” Jake said. “It’s already done.”

  “What?” Her eyebrows rose.

  “Just in case,” he said.

  “You had this planned all along,” Lauren accused.

  “No more so than a picnic that was really a driving lesson.”

  They both laughed.

  Jake had booked them each a suite at the Mayflower Hotel. When he met Lauren for dinner, she was no longer wearing a T-shirt and shorts. She turned totally around, showing off a yellow sundress and matching shoes.

  “You clean up well,” he said. “I’m glad the hotel shop had something that nice for you.”

  “You clean up well, too.”

  Jake had obviously done the same. He no longer had on the same clothes. The hotel’s men’s shop had accommodated him with dress slacks and a shirt.

  They ate dinner at a restaurant directly next to the river. The display of lights outside and across the water was spectacular. Ambient light filtered in from the window, setting fire to the reddish highlights of Lauren’s hair. It couldn’t have been more perfect if a Hollywood expert had crafted the scene. Jake had often watched her in the waning light of the setting sun in his apartment. It was perfect for her.

  And perfect for him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HE AND LAUREN returned from Washington the next day. They didn’t leave in the morning, but spent part of the day visiting the tourist attractions. Jake, who thought he hated tourists, didn’t even notice them when he was with Lauren. She was like a kid, experiencing Christmas for the first time.

  They’d meandered through some stores and she bought a slew of specialty papers, paintbrushes and small pots of paint and children’s books. When asked what it was for, she would say only, “You’ll see.” Jake hadn’t seen anything yet.

  Alone in the apartment, he was missing Lauren. Then his phone rang.

  “Hello,” Jake said, elongating the word in a slightly silly way. Seeing Cal’s name on his phone, he muted the television.

  “Wow,” Cal’s voice came through the receiver. “You sound happy. What’s going on?”

  Jake heard the surprise in his brother’s voice.

  “Nothing. I was watching something on television that was funny.”

  “You’re watching television?” Cal asked. “The last time I remember you watching television there was a purple dinosaur that sang.”

  Jake laughed. “Probably. Lately Lauren and I watch movies to relax.”

  “Lauren and I?” The question in Cal’s voice was obvious.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jake warned.

  “I’m not jumping. I can hear it in your voice. You like Lauren. Is she there with you now?”

  “I’m alone. It’s her day off.”

  Most of the time, Lauren remained in the apartment or told him where she was going, but today she was gone when he got up. She had her cell phone number, so he could reach her if necessary. He missed her and had come in to watch television and wait for her to return. He also tried to move his arm. He was always trying to move it, but it never cooperated.

  Watching the comedy show had taken his mind off his arm. Nothing could remove thoughts of Lauren from his brain.

  “So you do like her,” Cal stated. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re interested in a woman again.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s in your voice. Even through the phone, I can hear it. How does she feel about you?”

  Jake remembered her touch. He remembered the couple of times he’d kissed her and he remembered all the little things she did for him: massaging his arm, dancing with him by the light of the city outside the windows, playing tennis, having a picnic.

  “She has some affection for me. I’m not sure how deep it goes,” Jake said.

  “Have you told her how you feel?”

  Jake realized his brother had already jumped over the hurdle that said relationship.

  “Are you putting obstacles in the way?” Cal asked before Jake could reply. “Wondering if spending time with Lauren will end the same way it did with your ex-fiancée?”

  “It’s crossed my mind, but Lauren is nothing like Jennifer.”

  It wasn’t that Jake didn’t have reservations in the back of his mind. Jennifer couldn’t deal with his injury and Lauren approached it head-on.

  “Is she in it for the long haul?” Cal asked. “When I hired her, she said it was temporary.”

  “She’s promised to remain until you return.”

  “That could be a long while,” Cal said.

  “I’m sure she’ll make a decision about her future and if she needs to remain here any longer.”

  “Does that mean you’re ready to return to the hospital and—”

  “No,” Jake cut him off.

  “The longer you wait, the worse it could be.”

  Jake knew that. He also knew that in the last two years, the prognosis he received was the same every time; the illness was psychosomatic. He had been to the doctor with Lauren. After she told him he’d moved his finger in the theater. He kept that from Cal. His brother would jump on the tiny phantom movement as if Jake had climbed Mount Whitney. Then he’d insist he continue to see doctors. Lauren had done that once, and she’d accepted their report. It was time Cal did the same.

  * * *

  THE BALL FLEW over the net and hit the court at Jake’s feet. “Hey, you’re getting good at this,” he called to Lauren. Her shots were inconsistent. Often they didn’t hit the mark, but one in a million was right on point.

  “So are you.”

  Jake had to admit, he never thought Lauren’s idea of him participating in a sport would ever work. But in her usual fashion she was right. At first, his left-handed strokes were a bust, but she persisted and he could almost focus on the placement of his shots.

  They played every morning at a private club where Jake was a member. At first they would arrive early, before the fitness crowd came in. Then it was before breakfast. Jake endured the gawkers, people staring at him. Lauren spun it, letting him know they were fascinated by his ability to play with only one hand. Jake understood what she was saying, accepted it and turned the tables by waving at his audience.

  Eventually, he and Lauren became familiar to the crowd and the gawking stopped.

/>   “Remember what I told you,” he shouted to Lauren. “Stand sideways when you swing at the ball and follow through over your shoulder.”

  She nodded and when he sent her a soft ball, it came back hard and in the court. Jake’s head whipped around to see where the ball landed. Lauren was jumping up and down, celebrating that she’d done something right. If he was really coaching her, he’d tell her to save her celebration until the point was totally over, but she looked like a child with a new puppy, and he wouldn’t take that away from her.

  They worked for another hour and Lauren said she was tired. The truth was she was letting him know his exercise period was over for the day. It was a good workout and Jake felt great afterward. Except for her having to tie his shoes, he loved everything about their tennis game.

  He even enjoyed teaching, something he never thought he’d like. He was a participant, rather than thinking he’d merely be on the sidelines. Lauren was definitely the raw student. She’d never held a racquet and he could show her the right way to play, but he wasn’t a trained instructor. Still, she was an excellent pupil.

  He looked at his arm. He didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon, but on the positive side—and Lauren continually told him to look at the positives—he was developing a technique with his left hand that could work for recreational play.

  Jake counted himself lucky—another positive—that he’d run into her on the street that day. Where would he be now if she had just picked up her packages and rushed off? He guessed he could thank the universe for them colliding at just that moment.

  “Good workout,” she said, a little winded, as she joined him. They walked toward the common area of the tennis club. There was no set rule as to which of them drove back to the apartment. There they often showered, dressed and had breakfast before going out for the day.

  Jake loved that the days were no longer routine. They played tennis together and he did video consultations, but for the most part each day was different. He could thank only Lauren for that.

  Jake was going to have to think of something he could do for her.

  * * *

  LAUREN STAMPED HER foot as her tennis ball pitched into the net. She thought she’d be better after a week of trying to follow instructions.

  “What am I doing wrong?” she shouted across the net. They’d been playing for nearly half an hour and most of her balls were mishits, flying this way and that off the court.

  Jake walked to the net. With his racket in his left hand, he waved Lauren forward. “You need to keep your feet moving.” He demonstrated holding the racket in the ready position and showing her how to move her body.

  “I thought I was doing that.”

  “You were, but then you turned back.” Again, he demonstrated. “Your feet and body should be like this.” His side was facing the net. “What you’re doing is beginning this way, then turning to face the net. When you do that, it’s harder to hit the ball.”

  Lauren nodded. “I’ll try to remember that, along with all the other things I have to remember.”

  They hadn’t played any matches yet. Her goal was to get the ball back across the net and to keep Jake active.

  Jake smiled apologetically. Lauren returned to the baseline muttering all the instructions Jake had taught her.

  When she was in place again, Jake hit a ball to her. Lauren let it bounce, then swung.

  “Great form,” Jake called.

  “I still missed the ball,” she complained.

  Her timing was off. The ball was already behind her when she swung at it.

  “You’ll get it. Patience, remember?”

  Lauren wiped the sweat from her forehead with the sweatband on her wrist and stood ready for the next shot. Jake hit balls to her and she tried to return them. Only a couple landed on his side of the net.

  “Tired?” he asked as they passed each other changing court position.

  “Not yet.”

  She had to be tired. But Lauren wasn’t one to give up. Jake had learned that about her. They each had a long drink of water and began again. While he wasn’t ambidextrous and wasn’t even close to his previous ability, he appreciated what he’d achieved so far, and enjoyed watching the teens. He also got a lot of pleasure in seeing Lauren trying something new.

  They resumed playing. Time flew by.

  “Last ball,” Jake called.

  Lauren bounced the ball and hit it softly. She’d been hitting hard, fast balls and this soft one threw him. Jake lunged for it and missed. Lauren smiled and jumped for joy.

  Jake knew she’d been imitating him. Her decision to change things up was a great strategy. He should have suggested it to her, but he was too used to winning.

  Jake smiled at the exuberance. It was only a game, but her reaction was that of someone who’d won the US Open. He couldn’t help laughing. He remembered his first win and knew exactly how she felt.

  Her effort could carry her through the rest of the week. Then she started to run toward the net. Jake quickly saw what she intended and he knew it was a bad idea. He started forward. The net was higher than most people thought it was. Even at its center it was thirty-six inches high, three inches higher than a woman’s hurdle. She might clear it, but more people than not had been injured trying to jump over the net.

  Lauren was already in the air before he got close enough to stop her. Dropping the racket he still carried, he raised his left arm to try to catch her. It was a useless thing to do. He knew that, but his arm was in the air before his mind was fully engaged. Jake saw her front foot clear the net, but her back foot clipped the tape and she started to fall. She crashed into him. Her weight and the momentum of her leap overbalanced him. They fell toward the court. He was quick to keep his head from making contact with the surface as they slid several feet.

  “Are you all right?” Lauren asked, her voice winded, her face flushed. Tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail tickled his cheek.

  Jake started to laugh. “You are the one who nearly broke your neck and you’re asking how I am?”

  Lauren slid off Jake and they sat up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to...”

  “It’s all right. Neither of us is hurt.”

  “I won’t try that again,” she said.

  “Good.”

  Jake stood up and offered Lauren his hand. She took it. He felt the warmth of her fingers as he pulled her to her feet. Jake quickly checked her arms and legs for scrapes or scratches. She’d fallen into him and he’d taken the brunt of the impact.

  “I’m not usually an impulsive person,” Lauren said. “I didn’t even think about not making the jump.”

  Jake listened. He knew what she meant. She was happy and he didn’t want to destroy the moment by explaining how badly she could have been hurt.

  “How about we call it a day and go celebrate with a glass of orange juice?”

  “I’d like that.”

  The orange juice came with a full breakfast and a walk through Central Park. Months ago Jake would never have thought he’d be out of his apartment. He certainly didn’t think he’d have a woman at his side who didn’t judge him or look at his arm as an infirmity. He pressed Lauren’s hold on him a little tighter. She looked up and smiled.

  They didn’t speak. Jake found there were times when conversation wasn’t necessary for communication. He’d never known anyone like her or anyone he was so comfortable with. She did protect him, however. She shielded him from onlookers who would become conscious of his hand. Jake was used to being the protector, but Lauren was able to look after him without putting him in a position of need. If she wasn’t a kindergarten teacher, her calling had to be in medical rehabilitation. But she didn’t just heal the body. Her expertise was in making someone see the possible roads that were open to them even if one path was blocked.

  Jake dropped his
arm and entwined his fingers with Lauren’s. She looked at their hands, then up at him. He smiled. And there was that communication he felt. No words. No gestures. Just understanding.

  * * *

  JAKE’S EYES JERKED open and he sat up in bed as if propelled from behind. The sound woke him and he realized he’d shouted out in his sleep. His heart pounded and his body was drenched in sweat. Immediately, he went hot, then cold. Leaning over the side of the bed, he sat up, hanging his head in his hand. It had been a dream. Relief flooded his mind, but his body pumped fear and disbelief.

  In his dream, he hadn’t caught Lauren as her foot hit the tennis net. There was no net. They weren’t in a tennis facility. They were outside in a field with a rope tied between two trees. On the rope was a collection of dresses. He recognized the princess one. The ground under them sported a blanket with a picnic basket.

  Lauren ran toward him. Just as he’d known what she was going to do on the tennis court, he knew her intentions about the rope. He was too far away to reach her as she became airborne, although he ran as hard as he could to reach her. The dream slowed his actions, making him feel as if he was moving in slow motion, fighting the air, cutting through it as if it was tangible. Her shoe connected with the mermaid’s costume hanging on the rope. It triggered a bomb. The explosion grabbed him with an invisible hand, pushed him back, lifted his body from the ground and forced it through the thick air before dropping him onto the grassy ground.

  Jake looked at the floor, refusing to close his eyes in case the dream returned. He breathed in hard, sucking air into his lungs and forcing it out long and slow. It was only a dream, he told himself, a nightmare that had been jumbled up with the memories of the terrorist attack that had damaged his arm.

  He knew lying down and going back to sleep would be fruitless, at least for the next few hours. Needing something cold to drink, he stood up and rolled his shoulders. He stretched as he walked. Then he went down the stairs heading for the kitchen.

  “Jake.”

  He looked back and saw Lauren with her hands on the railing.