Dr. Feelgood

by Marissa Monteilh

  “And you as well. I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you back.”

  A soft knock met my door.

  “Dr. Worthy.”

  My back faced the door as I spoke. “Come in.”

  A young nurse opened the door and peeked inside. “You know your patient whom you referred to Dr. Lois Taylor? The patient with advanced metastatic lung cancer.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds?” I replied, slowly turning to face her.

  “Yes. Dr. Worthy, are you okay?”

  “Yes. What’s up?”

  She held a file in her hand. “Mrs. Reynolds passed away today. We need you to sign off on the original referral form.”

  I simply exhaled and stood.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor.”

  I could only blink.

  She approached me. “It’s right here. Just sign anywhere on page four.” She was silent as I flipped to the authorization page and scribbled my name. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you know her?”

  “No. It’s just that … it’s just that … thank you, Carol.”

  She walked out and gingerly shut the door behind her.

  It’s just that … I promised her she’d be okay. I wanted her to be okay. Who am I to tell anyone they’ll be okay? For every new life that comes into this world, another life exits. And besides, death is a part of this whole doctor thing. You cannot get attached. And so, I have to change my thoughts to something else.

  But, her words, “You promise?” were all I could think of … think of, as my eyes welled up with tears.

  I am not a machine. I am a man. A man with feelings.

  Chapter 51

  “Dad, what’s up? Mary Jane said you called.”

  I returned to my desk toward the end of a long and grueling day. I was mentally absent from two meetings, and I assigned a last minute annulo-plasty surgery to another doctor. I took a seat, clenched my office phone with one hand, and had a firm squeeze on an antique handgrip exerciser that my mother had given me when I first started medical school.

  “Hey, son. I found your home number and gave you a call. That sweet little lady of yours put the phone to the ear of that precious little one. I still can’t believe you’re a father. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  My tight stomach flopped and twisted and turned. “Dad, I’ll pass on that achievement. What did you want?” My jaw was clenched.

  “What did I want? There you go again. What’s wrong with you, boy? You were like this when you left the house in such a rush when you were here. Are you still mad because I didn’t call to thank you for sending me that check a while back? Whatever it is, is that any way to greet your father?”

  Hearing him speak the word father made my heartbeat accelerate. The fury from my anxious-to-be-spoken words burst from my lips. “It’s the perfect way to greet Roosevelt Worthy, the lowest, most pathetic, motherfucking father on this earth.” I clutched the grip even tighter.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “First of all, I will no longer call you Dad. I will no longer call you anything. You need some serious help and you always have.”

  “Boy, what is your problem, disrespecting me like that. I am your father. Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten over that night back years ago when we got with Erskalene. I thought we already talked about that crap back when you were here.”

  Instantaneously, I propelled to my feet and began pacing, still squeezing the grip, imagining it being my so-called dad’s throat. I focused on my breathing pattern, which was far too irregular for me to get a hold of. “You son of a bitch, and I mean no disrespect to your mother, but what in the hell happened when your parents were raising you that would make you sleep with your own daughter? And I just know you did this more than once.”

  “What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh, please. Your head is so twisted that you run around screwing everything that moves, including your own children? I promise you it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever come around my daughter. I’ll tell you now, if you even so much as think about dialing my number or coming around my family, I will have you fucking killed. Now, I hope you got that. Yeah, and I just threatened your pedophile ass. You need to do time for incest and statutory rape.”

  “Makkai, I see. I know it was your mother who must have put some stuff in your head. She’s always resented the fact that you and I have been in touch through the years. She’s just trying to turn you against me.”

  “And you know what? How dare you even have the nerve to try and call my mother a liar? She let you off the hook for far too long. My own sister died while giving birth to your baby girl, that she named Rosie, after your tired behind. We ended up losing them both, and you never ever said a word about either one.”

  “I was at the funeral, even though everyone there treated me like dirt. And besides, your sister was sleeping around long before …”

  I instantly threw the exerciser up against the side of the bookshelf. It bounced against the hardwood floor with a loud clang. “Long before what? I dare you to finish that death sentence statement.” I gripped the phone with every ounce of my strength.

  I heard this fool’s nasal breathing, fast and forceful. “Fonda was hardly a virgin. She knew who her baby’s father was.”

  I rapidly inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth, blowing out each bit of air with force. I fought to catch my breath. It felt like a massive heart attack was brewing up to take me out.

  “Yes, she did. She took that to her grave. You need your ass locked up for the rest of your tired life. I don’t know how your wife stands the sight of you. You never would have seen me at that reunion if I’d known about this. I hope you didn’t put your hands on those twin girls of yours. But, either way, you can bet that you’ll never see this son again, unless it’s in court, testifying against you, if the damn statute of limitations hasn’t run out. You can take that to your damn grave, which I hope is where you lay your deranged ass soon. Not that you don’t have hundreds of other offspring to taint with your sickness. Hooking that many women with your dick. Get the hell off my phone.”

  With monstrous feelings running all through my head, clanging around in confusion, I slammed down the phone and stood still, wanting to bang my hand through the windowpane, or kick the small, innocent trash can toward the ceiling in a forceful field-goal fashion, or toss every single one of the files in my desk drawer down the hall and stomp on them.

  I took a seat again in my chair and placed my feet firmly on the floor and spoke out loud with my eyes closed. “God, you’re the center of my joy. All that’s good and perfect comes from you. You’re the heart of my contentment, hope for all I do. God, you’re the center of my joy.” I repeated these words over and over again. My hands were balled up in my lap, my shoulders were back and I again concentrated on consistent breaths, in through my nose, out through my mouth. I focused to relax my hands, and was still.

  After a moment, I grabbed a couple of things from my desk, my cell phone, some of my expenses I needed to review, and in particular, I picked up my nameplate, and tossed everything into my briefcase.

  I then exited my office, cutting off the lights and carefully shutting the door, focusing on slow and easy, for a moment, and then walking ninety miles an hour past the reception area and into the elevator without even blinking.

  Oh, yes, actually there was one particular long blink of my eyes just as the elevator doors joined together. A single, slow-moving tear that ran from the outside of my left eye rolled on down my cheek, to my chin, and down my neck to somewhere around the left side of my chest area. It stopped there.

  I sniffed for a quick second, rubbed the right side of my nose with my hand, centered my shoulders and headed on down into the parking lot to my awaiting car.

  I spoke out loud to the heavens as I pulled off onto the freeway and into the night air, the darkness and the stillness of the night.

  “Fonda. I’m s
till talking to you, baby sis. I miss your big eyes and big smile and big laugh and big hugs. You did everything big. How horrifying it must have been to have your own father lie on top of you and attempt to violate your existence. I’m so sorry that I didn’t know. I had no idea. Your life was so short and so tragic, yet so memorable. I won’t rest until he pays for what he did. We were born to a man who had some serious problems. That was not your fault, any more than it was mine. I miss you desperately. I think of you always. I think I stay busy just so I don’t think about how much you not being in my life has affected me. Hey, I have a little girl now. She’s beautiful, with big eyes like you. She was a little sick, but she pulled through.

  “I will love her like I love you. You will be proud of the father that I will become. Watch me. And I will see you again. That much I know. I’ll talk to you again soon. Your big brother loves you.

  I stopped myself just as I was about to pop in a CD when the Stevie Wonder song that played on the local radio station from my car speakers was “A Place in the Sun.”

  I smiled at the sensation of the words and the melody. The tune took me back to the many memories of the good times I had when I was a child. Back to putting on funky dance shows for Mom to some Jackson 5 song as she sat in her peach-colored button-up house robe, and coming home from school eating syrup sandwiches on fresh white Wonder bread, or having first dibs on the old-school banana pudding Mom would make, and playing tag and then playing Twister with Fonda after school in our stockinged feet … back to the days when my life was simple and my childhood was innocent.

  I accelerated down the road, with my personalized license plate following behind me as a moniker that I couldn’t shake, reminding me and the world of who I was.

  In spite of that, and even though I wasn’t proud of where I’d been, I was finally feeling really good about where I was headed. My taillights disappeared into the night as I sped down the main highway, on my way home after one quick stop.

  Chapter 52

  “Hey, baby, how’d it go today?” Mary Jane asked as I stepped into a house that finally smelled like a home. Mary Jane was rinsing out a few glass baby bottles in the kitchen sink. She was wearing a peach-colored pair of silk pajamas. An old school Aretha tune played on the CD called “Natural Woman.”

  “Okay.” I put down my briefcase and car keys. My first stop was to plant a kiss on Mary Jane’s cheek and hand her two dozen roses.

  Her face beamed my way as she reached out to accept them. “Oh, Makkai, thanks. But, you didn’t have to.” She thanked me with her wide, ebony eyes.

  “Yes, but I wanted to.”

  She sniffed a freshly blossomed bud and hugged me. “They’re beautiful. I love red roses. Wow, Makkai.” She inhaled them again. “I’ll put them in some water.” She kissed me on the lips, gave a lingering release of her lips from mine, and headed toward the sink. “Hey honey, my brother called today. He and his wife want to drive down from the bay area so that my niece, Yardley, can meet the baby. He’s so happy for you, for us, for all three of us, and he wants us to spend some real time together. If you have time, that is.” Her eyes searched for approval.

  I nodded and gave a green light smile. “I’ll make time for that. Just set things up and make sure they know they’re welcomed to stay here.”

  “That’s nice of you, baby.”

  “You’re my girl,” I said as I turned from her, heading straight over to the white wicker bassinet in the family room. I peeked in and carefully picked up my tiny bundle of a daughter, who was cradled in a pale yellow receiving blanket with tiny white lambs throughout.

  I smiled lovingly toward Mary Jane and then smiled close to my tiny baby’s face as she slowly opened her eyes, trying to focus while coming out of her newborn slumber. She yawned and stretched her teeny arms above her head. “She looks so peaceful and innocent.” I inhaled her baby powder scent. “Hey, little-bit.”

  Mary Jane placed the burgundy flower vase onto the kitchen table. “She’s such a calm and sweet baby. She just eats and sleeps all day long.” She again smelled the blooms.

  I looked down at my daughter. “Oh, good girl. And how’s her scar coming along?”

  Mary Jane told me, “It’s fine. I just put some antiseptic on it and changed the bandage. Just keeping it clean is working wonders.”

  I spoke close to my baby’s little face, touching her soft, peachy chin with my index finger. “That’s good. Just a physical reminder of what a little miracle you are.” I could have sworn she smiled at me in confirmation. My smile was automatic.

  Mary Jane kept her sights on me as she heard my home office phone ringing repeatedly. “Baby, that’s your emergency line.”

  I tried to tune out the demanding sound. It rang on and on like an annoying, unrelenting tap on my shoulder.

  I stepped toward the reclining chair. “I need to just sit for a minute. Just need to sit with my baby daughter for one minute, don’t I?” I took a seat, protectively and carefully cradling my little one in my arms.

  “Dr. Worthy’s line,” Mary Jane said after she took the initiative that I should have taken, pressing the speakerphone button.

  “Is Dr. Worthy available?” a female voice asked. “This is the head ER nurse.”

  Mary Jane immediately picked up the cordless. “Sure, hold on.” She swiftly brought the phone to me. “Here, honey.”

  I carefully adjusted my hold on my little bundle of joy, carefully releasing my grip as Mary Jane accepted the handoff. My baby girl began to whimper. I inhaled and then exhaled. “Her breath smells like peaches,” I told Mary Jane. And then I put the phone to my ear. “Hello.”

  The nurse asked, “Dr. Worthy, sorry to bother you at home. I tried your cell but immediately got voice mail. You’re on call tonight, correct?”

  “Yes, I am. I must’ve had my phone on silent in my briefcase. What’s up?”

  “We have a pregnant woman. Actually, she’s nineteen years old and going into premature labor after just twenty-four weeks. The OBs are here, but the young woman has had mitral regurgitation for years and it’s worsened recently. Her mitral valve is not functioning, and we need to do valve replacement surgery as soon as possible. She’s being sustained artificially.”

  I immediately responded, “I’ll be right there.” I hung up quickly.

  Mary Jane inquired as I took a step toward my car keys, “You have to go?”

  “Yes. Prosthetic valve surgery on a young mother.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” She shook her head and smiled down at the baby. “This is your daddy’s life, so get used to it. The life of a life-saving surgeon.”

  I stepped back toward them. “I’ll be back,” I told my lady. I looked down at my new daughter. “Did you hear that? I’ll be back.” I spoke in baby talk.

  “We’ll be here.” Mary Jane took a seat in the recliner.

  “And, Miss Cherry, I want you both with me when I join Pastor Smith’s church on Sunday. And, if you have time tonight, when I get back, we have to talk.” I patted Mary Jane on top of her head.

  She aimed her eyes up at my face. “Okay. But, about what?”

  “Just about some things. And hey, did you ever get approval for that leave we talked about?”

  “Yes, it’s all done, starting two weeks from Friday. Your mom said she’d baby-sit until then.”

  “Good. I love you.”

  Mary Jane’s eyes expanded. She looked down and cleared her throat and swallowed an audible gulp. She glanced up toward me again and then down again at our baby girl while tightening her embrace. She postponed her response as though sheer shock had locked down on her tongue. Her delayed reply was accompanied by a soft smile. “You too, Makkai.”

  I urgently needed to leave but seemed to linger. I gently rubbed my daughter’s tiny head full of thick, dark hair. I spoke into her miniature ear. “And Daddy loves you, little Fonda Corrine Worthy. I’ll never stop talking to you, little Fonda. Never stop talking to you. We’ve gotta get you a little brother.�
��

  Little Fonda eyed me without even a blink.

  Mary Jane didn’t blink either. Her face played tattletale. It was as though she was willing words to pop into her mind, at least enough to form a quick sentence, if only to distract from my comment. And so she asked, “Hey, did you ever call your dad back?” “I did.”

  “And? He seems nice.”

  I put my foot down with my words, looking her square into her eyes. “Nice, huh? Well, he’s never allowed to call here again. And I mean that. Never. If you so much as see his name on the caller ID display, I want to know about it.”

  She absorbed my expression. “Okay, honey.”

  My face spoke louder than my words. It read serious and no-nonsense. I suppose wisdom told Mary Jane it was best to not push her man, and to let it go. Sensibly, she shifted into another train of thought. She was feminine. I liked that about her.

  “Wave goodbye to Daddy.” She took Fonda’s little hand and motioned toward me.

  I leaned down to kiss Fonda’s tiny cheek. “Bye, my child.”

  “I’ll be waiting up when you get home, Dr. Feelgood.” Mary Jane’s eyes were provocative.

  “Oh, that reminds me. Trash this before I get back home.” I reached into my briefcase and handed her my nameplate while kissing her on the forehead. “And please remind me to get new license plates as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Makkai. We will.” My lips met hers and sounded a smack not once, but twice.

  My new girls.

  Out of the front door I stepped, glancing at my wristwatch, and then taking a split second to look back, snapping a visual of what would be awaiting my return. I locked and shut the door, turning the knob to make sure.

  The image was etched in my mind as I approached my car that was parked in the circular driveway in front of Mary Jane’s silver Acura. A muscle flexed along the side of my mouth that spelled pleasure and contentment, and I allowed that smile free rein.

  I adjusted my earpiece and took an incoming call.

  “Hey. What’s good, man? I’m just reminding you, when am I going to get a chance to come by and see that sweet little daughter of yours?”