There, he found his patient, Crystal Smithson, in a hospital gown, in bed, screaming at her husband, who stood in the corner like a kid in a time-out, looking terrified. Crystal’s stomach was huge. She pressed down on it, breathing in gasps until the contraction ended.
Trudi was beside her, holding her hand. At Max’s entrance, she smiled.
“Now, Crystal, I thought I told you I didn’t work Friday nights,” he said, putting on his surgical gloves.
Crystal smiled, but it was frail and tired. “Tell her that.” She rubbed her bulging abdomen.
“You might as well learn now,” Trudi said, “kids never listen to you.”
Another contraction hit and Crystal screamed.
“Is she going to be okay?” her husband said, taking a step toward them.
Max moved down to the end of the bed. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“She’s fully dilated,” Trudi said, moving in beside him, putting lubricant on his gloved fingers.
Max’s examination didn’t take long. He’d delivered enough babies to know that this one was going to be quick. He could feel the baby’s head starting to crown.
“You ready to be a mom, Crystal?”
Another contraction; another scream. “Yes,” she panted.
“The baby’s crowning,” Max said to Trudi. “Okay, Crystal, you can start pushing.”
Crystal grunted and wheezed and screamed. Her husband rushed to her side. “I’m here, Chrissie.” He grabbed her hand.
The baby’s head appeared.
“Push a little more for the shoulders, Crystal, and you’ll be done,” Max said.
He gently pulled down on the baby’s head to free the anterior, then eased up; the baby slid out, landed in Max’s hands.
“You have a beautiful little girl,” he said, looking up. Both Crystal and her husband were crying.
“You want to cut the cord, Dad?” Max said. No matter how many times he said those words, they always got to him.
By the time they were done, he was exhausted. He took a long hot shower, got dressed, and headed for the nurses’ station.
Trudi was there, all alone. At his approach, she came out from around the desk and smiled up at him. “They’re naming the baby Maxine.”
“Poor kid,” he said, then fell silent.
“You haven’t been to the house in a while.”
It would have been easy to change the subject, but Trudi deserved better than that. “I guess we should talk.”
Trudi laughed. “You always said talking wasn’t our best skill.” She leaned closer. “Let me guess: it’s about a certain doctor who had Thanksgiving dinner at the local police chief’s house. Since I know you’re not interested in Ellie, it must be her sister. Julia.”
He shook his head. “I don’t even know what the hell’s going on with her. We’re—”
“You don’t have to tell me, Max.”
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you for the world—”
She silenced him with a touch. “I’m glad for you. Really. You’ve been alone too long.”
“You’re a good woman, Trudi Hightower.”
“And you’re a good man. Now quit being such a chickenshit and ask her out for a date. Unless I miss my guess, it’s Friday night, and I know a doctor who shouldn’t be going to the movies alone anymore.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “Good-bye, Trudi.”
“ ’Bye, Max.”
He climbed into his truck and headed for the theater. He had no intention of going to Julia, but when he came to Magnolia Street, he turned left instead of right, and drove down old Highway 101.
All the way to her house he told himself he was crazy.
All or nothing.
He’d had all once; it had practically killed him.
In her yard, he parked and sat there, staring through the windshield at the house. Finally, he got out, walked up to the front door and knocked.
Julia opened the door. Even in a pair of faded Levi’s and a white cable-knit sweater that was two sizes too big, she looked beautiful. “Max,” she said, obviously surprised. She eased forward and closed the door behind her, blocking the way.
“You want to go to the movies?”
Idiot. He sounded like a desperate teenager.
Her answer was a smile that started slowly, then overtook her face. “Cal and Ellie are here playing Scrabble, so yeah … I could go to the show. What’s playing?”
“I have no idea.”
She laughed. “That’s my favorite.”
The movie, as it turned out, was To Have and Have Not. Julia sat next to Max in the darkened theater, watching one of the great screen pairings of all time. When it was over, and she and Max were walking through the beautifully restored lobby of the Rose Theater, Julia got the feeling that they were being stared at.
“People are talking about us,” she said, sidling close to him.
“Welcome to Rain Valley.” He took her arm and led her out of the theater and across the street to where his truck was parked. “I’d take you out for some pie, but everything’s closed.”
“You do like your pie.”
He grinned. “And you thought you knew nothing about me.”
She turned, looked up at him, no longer smiling. “I don’t know much.”