She looked at her Instagram account and Facebook page to kill time. Actually, she killed time this way far more often than she would like to admit. It wasn’t usually satisfying. In fact, it was often disappointing or frustrating. Like now. Bertie Newsome, one of her colleagues, was engaged and was planning a wedding to her future husband to take place in December; it was a never-ending catalog of photos of everything from the diamond ring and possible wedding cakes to the townhomes they considered buying. Jordan Hillerman, a classmate from med school, was having twins! Priscilla Silver was posting pictures from her honeymoon in Aruba.
The whole world was marching on while her life was agonizingly stagnant and there was no good reason for it. When she listed her attributes in her head, it seemed she had everything. She lived in an upscale community in a luxury town house, she was a doctor in a thriving practice. She was an associate in that practice and would probably make partner in another year. She thought her nose was a little small for her face but she was so often complimented on her beauty that she had decided the nose wasn’t a problem. She was smart, self-supporting, an overachiever...and so lonely. Even now in her new relationship with Patrick, even with his attentiveness, she was lonely. They couldn’t go out every night or even spend the night together every night, what with their busy schedules, but when they weren’t together he would call. It had great promise. She just didn’t understand why it didn’t feel like quite enough.
It was no doubt her father’s death that weighed her down. That left a gaping hole in her heart. After all, her father had been the first man in her life to let her down. She strove all her life to make him proud and he said he was, but it was unconvincing. He clearly enjoyed Michael and Bess more; Mike because he was a boy with similar interests and Bess because she was the baby and Dad had doted on her.
Really, Jessie felt she had always been left behind. Even now, waiting for her date, scrolling through the Instagram lives of her friends and seeing their joy. Why didn’t she ever have joy?
Quite by accident, looking at Tina’s Facebook page, she saw pictures of a beach gathering. Volleyball, bonfire, laughter at a beach bar, many people some of whom she knew from the hospital. And Jason. With his arm casually draped around Tina’s shoulders. Tina was a colleague, a pediatrician. She was very popular, though she wasn’t all that pretty. In fact, she was so far from perfect. She was a short, roundish blonde with a smile too wide, large blue eyes and a double chin. But she had a wicked sense of humor that people loved. Jason had always liked her and perhaps these days he was liking her more.
How dare he get on with his life so easily.
“There you are,” Patrick said, leaning down and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He sat, looked immediately at the menu. The waiter was instantly at the table. “Ah, Miguel. How are you today?”
“It’s a good day, thank you.”
“I’ll have a cerveza and plate of loaded nachos for a start. Jessie?”
“You can bring me that wine now,” she said. Then despite her wish to be more accommodating, she put on a little pout.
Patrick seemed not to notice. He talked about a cervical laminectomy he performed first thing that morning, a meeting he had with a surgeon about a heart-lung transplant that was scheduled and some kind of issue with his assistant and the accounting department about billing.
Then he took a break to drink some of his beer and shovel a few nachos in his mouth. He pushed his plate toward her but she just shook her head. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You were very late.”
“I apologized,” he said. “I had Cheryl call you. If you didn’t want to wait, you didn’t have to.”
“Did it occur to you to call me yourself?”
He appeared momentarily frozen. He dabbed his lips with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I felt abandoned.”
“Though of course you weren’t. I was tied up. We got a little behind schedule and there was a patient who had come a long way to see me, so I made sure to see her.”
Jessie lifted one brow. “Oh? And what was so important?”
His jaw clenched. “A fifteen-year-old girl, with her parents, came all the way from Reno. She has a glioblastoma, temporal lobe, and I’ll be operating on her on Tuesday. She’s frightened, as anyone would be. There were a lot of questions. As expected. I wasn’t about to cancel or reschedule. Or cut her short.”
“Oh,” she said, contrite. “Well, I had a hard day, too.”
“I didn’t have a hard day, Jessie. I was running late.” He drank some of his beer. “Do you want to talk about your day?”
“No, I just want to eat,” she said. “Maybe it’s low blood sugar...”
He granted her a small smile. “Then let’s get you fed.”
And she thought, Oh God, I’m doing it again! What is the matter with me?
She forced herself to be pleasant, to laugh at the right times, to show empathy when it would count, to ask him questions that would get him talking and take the pressure off herself, to have a lovely dinner. She was rewarded for this effort by having him ask if she’d like to come to his place and she said yes, thinking that the pleasure of lovemaking would take some of the pressure off her poor head.
For a while, that seemed the answer, for Patrick was the most wonderful, tender and powerful lover. But after sleeping for a couple of hours, she startled awake, her head pounding.
Jenn called Michael and in her cheery little voice said, “I’ve made the most wonderful batch of enchiladas and I’d love to share it with you.”
“That’s so sweet, but I can’t really go out tonight. I have to do a little laundry and I have some lesson plans to work on. I’ve got football practice every day and have no extra time.”
“That’s all right, Mike. I’ll bring the enchiladas to you.”
“My apartment is kind of a mess...”
“So I’ll help you straighten up while you work on your lessons.”
“You’re determined, aren’t you?” he asked, adding a little laugh, hoping to lighten up the message.
“If you’d rather not have company, just say so,” she said.
He thought for a moment. “Enchiladas sound good.”
“I’ll pack it up and see you soon!”
So then tonight would be the night, he thought with despair and fear. He would break up with her.
Over the enchiladas she made because he loved them? Classy.
Jenn was one of the best girls he’d ever dated and he was crazy about her. She was a beautiful girl with creamy skin and long, soft brown hair. When he looked into her eyes, they reflected the same blue as his, but lighter. She was funny and had a gentle, kind and patient nature. She taught second grade; she would have to be patient. But maybe the most important thing about her was she wasn’t given to melodrama. So many young women her age were teetering on the fine ledge of high drama. He wasn’t so sure they didn’t welcome it!
Not Jenn. She came from a pretty functional family who seemed to laugh through their quirky dysfunctions, kind of like his own family in that way. Jenn had a granny who enjoyed her vodka and she was hilarious when she’d had a couple. Michael had Blanche, who didn’t drink much but her crusty demeanor and sailor’s mouth made them all laugh and Blanche just enjoyed the heck out of it.
Jenn loved teaching and she wanted to have a family someday. She considered educating to be custom fit to her future plans. She thought she could continue to work while she raised her children. Since Michael loved coaching and teaching, her plans were well suited to his.
And he loved her. She was steadfast and honorable. She was decent and yet the sexiest woman he’d ever been with. She turned him on like mad, though his libido hadn’t been working too well since his dad died.
So why break up? It was complicated but he knew what his relationship with Jenn meant he should do. He should ignore his feelings of fear and inadequacy, propose, marry her and they should settle into the life where they had so much in common and have a family together. They would be so happy, teaching and enjoying life in a friendly little northern California town.
But the thought terrified him and he felt frozen. Ever since his father died he was suddenly afraid of being a husband and father. He’d never measure up to the kind of man his father had been. Chad McNichol was always wise, always kind and funny and supportive. And what if, like his father, he brought children into the world and then died? They would feel as bereft and lost as he was feeling and that would be a tragedy. Better to not go there if he couldn’t perform. From what he was feeling now, he couldn’t hold a candle to the kind of father he’d had.
He heard his front door opening. Jenn used pot holders to carry the hot glass baking dish into his apartment. There was a bag on the ground behind her. She was all smiles, her cheeks a little pink from cooking and her eyes bright in anticipation of seeing him. “Michael, grab that bag, will you please?”
“What’s in here?” he asked, grabbing the bag by its handles.
“Sour cream, salsa, chips, avocado, a couple of extra tortillas. Hungry?”
He put the bag on the counter and reached a hand into the soft curling hair that fell over her shoulder. She turned her head and kissed his palm.