Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel) (18 page)

“You mean you lack
self-assurance?”

“Yeah, something like
that I suppose. It’s not that I don’t know how to do it, it’s just that I’m too
impatient to see the results from my assistance.”

“I’m sure it will come in
time. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, to practice
what we learned in the books.”

“Precisely.” I got up and
was about to open the door of my locker when Corey walked in.

“Hey, you two, how was
that first day?”

“Just fine,” Tiffany and
I replied in unison.

“Did you get through
today’s horror show alright?” Corey asked Tiffany as he opened his locker,
ignoring me, which was perfectly fine with me.

“Yep,” Tiffany replied, taking
her lab coat off and taking her jacket off the peg. “We had a near death, but
apart from that, it was very quiet actually.”

“Same here,” Corey
rejoined, “except for the near death bit, of course.”

As soon as we were ready,
Tiffany and I left Corey on his own and went down to the garage.

In the elevator, Tiffany
looked at me curiously. “You’re very quiet this evening; what’s going on?”

“Let’s get home and I’ll
tell you.”

She knew there was no
need to question me before then, I wouldn’t have told her anything. Besides, I
didn’t know who was listening or watching. There were cameras everywhere in the
hospital, especially in the garage. Since one of the nurses had been raped two
years before, they had installed roving cameras everywhere–in the stairwells,
garage, and even terraces and cafeterias.

As soon as we got home,
Tiffany was on my case. She opened a bottle of red wine and poured some in two
glasses, which she brought to the living room. She then got a bowl of nachos
ready with some jalapeño dip. I told you, the woman would make a fantastic
wife.

“So, are you going to
tell me why you were taking a cool walk in the park at lunch?” She plopped down
in the sofa beside me.

“Yeah. I had to get out
of the terrace café before I created a scene between Jeff, me and his wife!”

Tiffany practically
choked on a half-eaten nacho. I drank some wine.

“Are you kidding me? Are
you really saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Worse.”

“What could be worse than
a wife appearing while you’re having lunch with her husband?”

“Well, first, I was not
having lunch
with him
. I was trying
not to have lunch with anyone. I wanted to be alone.”

“Why? There’s nothing
wrong about having lunch with a resident surgeon, is there?”

“No, except for the fact
that I spent the whole morning working with his wife.”

Tiffany turned to stare
at me. “Hold on. Let me understand this. Aldridge’s wife is a doctor in this
hospital too? Is that what you’re really saying?”

“Worse. She is my
department supervisor.”

“I don’t believe it! And
he never told you anything about this?”

I shook my head and drank
some more of my wine. “Talk about a shock. When she introduced herself, I
thought I was going to lose my breakfast. And then, as if that wasn’t enough,
Jeff has the gall to come and sit beside me at the café while I was having
lunch.”

“And then what happened?”
Tiffany asked, after she crunched another nacho into her mouth.

“Then, as I was telling
him off–and to back off–Dr. Elizabeth Aldridge walked in. I didn’t say another
word to the two-timer and left. I had to cool off somehow. And that’s when you
saw me in the park.”

“Good grief, Hattie, what
are you going to do?”

I finally grabbed a nacho
and munched for a few seconds before I said, “Nothing. I came to the conclusion
that I will not do anything. I can’t, Tiff. My career is my priority. Yes, I
had a fling with the guy. Yes, I had a good time, but now we’re done. And I
hope he knows it.”

“How did you manage the
afternoon with the “misses” then?”

“Very well actually. I
figured that if they’re separated, then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Yet, I
won’t have anything to do with Dr.
Hottie
anymore. If
they’re not, tough. I cannot sacrifice my career for a man who doesn’t care
about anything or anybody but himself. And, I repeat, we just had a fling, a
passing sex adventure.”

“And how is the wife? Is
she nice?”

“She is, actually. She is
very detached though. We’ve got two little girls–twins–in the ward that need a
liver transplant badly. The father is good for one transplant but then there
isn’t a second liver to give to the sister. And Dr. Aldridge is asking the
parents to choose which girl will receive part of her dad’s liver.”

“Oh wow! That must be the
most difficult choice one could ever have to make. And what have they decided,
do you know?”

“No, not yet. But, I tell
you, Tiff,”—I turned my body in the sofa to face her—“Dr. Aldridge was a
stalwart through it all. She wouldn’t flinch. It was hard to watch, but she
couldn’t have done anything else. It has to be the parents’ choice.”

“And when is that going
to happen–the surgeries I mean?”

“On Friday. And this
afternoon is when I had to clamp down on my feelings. Dr. Aldridge and I sat
down in the center’s lounge and spent a couple of hours reviewing the case
files. It was like studying with one of our professors. It felt good,
actually.”

“You mean there’s no
grievance between you two?”

“No, there isn’t, Tiff. I
have to respect her and I even admire her. The bad guy in this story is Jeff.
As soon as he saw me, right here, in this hospital, he should have taken me
aside and tell me that he was married to one of their physicians.”

“And he had the perfect
opportunity to do so when you guys went for ice-cream, didn’t he?”

“Exactly my point. There
were plenty of opportunities for him to come clean. He should have told me what
I should have expected, such as meeting his wife at the café, or seeing her
around the place.”

“Do you think she had
something to do with you being assigned to her?”

“I don’t know, Tiff. But
either way, it’s up to me to prove to her that I am no floozy, and that I care
about pursuing my career in organ transplants.”

Chapter
19

Once we finished the
nachos while watching the evening news, we went to warm up our meal. Tonight,
Tiffany defrosted some chicken and roasted potatoes while I tossed a salad with
my special dressing–my grandmother’s recipe. There was an interesting program
on TV when we dropped our trays on the coffee table. The anchorman was
introducing a pilot who had just returned from the Middle East and was asked to
comment on some of his experiences. Of course, when you live in Washington,
D.C., you can’t really escape the political programs, the endless interviews
with one lobbyist or another, and the debates about any topic that made the
headlines that day. However, this Navy pilot was an interesting guy. Apart from
being very good looking, he spoke clearly while describing some of his
encounters with rebel fighters, especially in Jordan. I couldn’t imagine being
sent overseas to fight a cause or to liberate some oppressed community. I am a
“home bird” as far as that is concerned. I’ll go on holidays for any length of
time, but I’ll soon come home. I’m like the Canadian geese; they fly south for
the winter, but they go home for the summer.

When we finished eating,
I went to the kitchen to discover a tray of cheese, grapes and crackers in the
fridge.

“What the…?” I erupted,
turning to Tiffany. She was still absorbed by the pilot’s comments.

She turned her head
briefly. “Yeah-yeah, don’t ask. I thought we might like to have a grape or two
while we’re watching
The Voice.
They’ve
got new judges this year, and it might be funny to see the eliminations.”

“Okay, good idea,” I
replied, getting the tray out of the fridge. Although, I am not a great one for
cheese as a dessert, Tiffany was the expert on keeping our diet in check.

We were just settling
down to listen to the first singer on this new program when the phone rang. I
looked at the call display and raised my eyes to the ceiling. My mother was on
the line again.

“I’ll take it in my
room,” I said to Tiffany as I picked up the receiver. “Hi, Mom? How are you?”
Although we had talked the day after my dad’s operation, I knew it wouldn’t be
long before my mother would be on the blower again.

“I’m fine, Heather.
You’re
father is coming home tomorrow…”

“That’s great news. It
means that the cardiologist is happy with his progress. What is Dad saying?”

“Oh, nothing much. But I
think you were right. He’s much calmer now. Maybe he was afraid of the surgery
and that’s why he was acting up before.”

“I’d say you’re right,
Mom. Are you ready then with the new routine?”

“Yes, I think so. It’s a
bit boring if you ask me, but every day your dad and I will be doing something
different and each evening we will have the “dinner of the day”–like spaghetti
on Monday, chicken on Tuesday, and so on. I’ll do the same with breakfast, but
only with a different fruit with his cereals. That’s all I could think of. What
do you think?”

“I think that’s a
fantastic program. I’m sure you’re not going to see the results right away,
because each activity will need to become a reflex for him. Going shopping on
Friday for example–you guys already do that, so that won’t be difficult for Dad
to remember that this will be Friday. But if you go bowling on Tuesday, that
will be a first for him. He’ll have to get used to the idea that bowling equals
Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I got the idea.
And thanks for sending me a suggestion program. That helped a lot.” She paused.
“You know, dear, I’ve got to admit it’s great to have a doctor in the house
sort of thing. Thanks for being patient with me.”

“Good grief, Mom. I’m the
one who should be grateful for sacrificing so much so that I could spend all
those years at university.”

“Your father is the one
you should thank. He’s the one who wouldn’t retire until it was absolutely
necessary.” She paused again. Somehow, I knew she had something else in mind.
Something she didn’t feel comfortable discussing or asking.

“What’s the matter, Mom?”
I asked, trying to get her to open up.

“Well, before I ask…I
know what you’re going to say…but I want to do this, if only for my own peace
of mind.”

“Come on, out with it,
Mom, what do you want to ask me?”

“Well, as soon as your
father is okay with his routine, I think I’d like to come for a visit.”

“Say what?” I said a
little louder than I should have. “What is this? Dad hasn’t even been
discharged from the hospital yet, and you’re already thinking of leaving him
alone? Have you gone mad?”

“Stop it, Heather! I
won’t have you talk to me like that, do you hear?”

“Well, who’s going to do
it, if I don’t? My brothers certainly aren’t going to tell you what’s what. So,
that leaves me, doesn’t it?”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,
Heather. No use being so aggressive about it all. It’s not a crime for me to
try getting away for a few days to see you, is it?”

I calmed down a little
after I realized that I had been a little harsh on my mom. “No, Mom, and I’m
sorry for blowing up like that. It’s just that Dad needs time to re-adjust to
his new condition. He’s going to be fine as long as you guide him and control
his activities.”

“Yes, I understand that,
and I will only leave when John and his wife, Alice, will be able to come and
look after Dad while I’m away.”

“That’s good that they’re
getting involved. Dad needs to know they’re around. They’re his sons after all.
And what do you plan on doing while you’re here?” I ventured to ask, hoping Mom
wasn’t going to tell me she wanted to look at apartments or townhouse to rent or
buy.

“I just want to see how
you are, talk to the girl…”

“Doctor, Mom, Tiffany is
no longer a ‘girl’ from school; she’s a doctor, just like me.”

“Well yes, of course.
Anyway, I just wanted to see for myself what is going on out there.”

“You’re such a
mother-hen, you know that?” I had to joke about it. I was way past high school
age and my mother wanted to “pass inspection” on my living quarters and
friends. Incredible. When they say children will always be children in the eyes
of their parents, they’re right. We will never have a chance to grow up. I knew
all that, but I wasn’t too sure I wanted to accept the situation yet.

“I know, dear, but that’s
the way it is with mothers. Wait until you’ve got your own kids, you’ll see.”

“Well, that may be true,
but I’m not ready to pick up my apron strings yet and clean diapers or rock a
baby to sleep. I’ve got enough rocking and caring to do at the hospital.”

“Oh? Are you looking
after kids now? I thought you were going to the organ transplants department.
Has it changed?”

“No, nothing has changed,
Mom. But we’ve got kids in that department too; poor little things that won’t
make it if we can’t find an organ to replace their malfunctioning liver or
kidney.”

“It sounds like you’re
facing some very sad situations, dear. How are you coping, though? That’s what
I want to know.”

 
“I’m fine. I’ve got to learn to be more
detached, though. That’s the only way I’ll be able to assist any patient on the
way to recovery. There’s no way I could treat anyone if I let my emotions get
in the way of my judgment.”

“That must be hard to do.
I surely wouldn’t be good at it.”

“Oh but you are, Mom.
When we scraped our knees in the back yard, you left your emotion at the door
and got the iodine out and the Band-Aid on our wounds soon enough. You consoled
us and wiped the tears, but you washed the wounds even when you knew it hurt
like hell. You knew it had to be done, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and I think I never
heard anyone scream as loudly as you did, dear. I think you believed that if
you screamed loud enough; I would back away with the darn iodine, didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember now,
but I’d say you’re right. I also remember John and Eliot punching you in the
shoulder when you were cleaning their knees. They didn’t scream but boy, did
they ever throw punches.”

“That’s because they’re
boys, dear. Girls scream, throw tantrums, and slap your face whereas boys throw
punches, kick you in the shin, and jab an elbow in your ribs if they’re hurt.”

“I guess I should be glad
I’m not in the children’s ward then. I don’t think I could stand coming home
with a black eye and a bruised shin every week.”

By the time I returned to
the living room,
The Voice
was on its
last segment. I plopped down on the sofa and crossed my arms over my chest.

Tiffany threw a curious
glance in my direction before she said, “What’s going on with your mom? Is she
okay? Didn’t you say your dad’s surgery went okay?”

“Yes and yes, everyone is
okay, but my mom is intending to come down for a visit.”

We listened to the last
song in silence.

“Are you saying she’s
coming here to check on you?”

I nodded. “Yes, but more
to the point, she wants to meet you. She’s didn’t have so much time on her
hands when she was working, but since Dad retired and he’s been sick, she’s
looking for an escape. She is tired. And I can understand it. Taking care of a
patient with dementia is no sinecure. Yet, I made it clear that she shouldn’t be
coming here to try finding a place for the two of them.”

“Do you think that’s what
she’s got in mind?”

“She gave it some
thought, yes. I know her. She says she’s not going to move, blah-blah-blah and
all the rest of it, but she hasn’t abandoned the idea yet. She can’t wait to
see where we live. I’m sure she’ll find an excuse or two to come back.”

“You can’t keep them away
for you, Hattie, that’s unhealthy. I’m sure there could be a compromise.”

I shook my head
vigorously. “No, Tiff. No compromise. I don’t mind if they move to D.C., but
what I mind is having my mother on my doorstep every second day. She’s very
controlling, and I’ve got to fly out of the nest.”

“But didn’t you do that
by moving all the way to New York?”

“Yes, of course I did.
And since the New York was only temporary, she waited until I was an intern
with a lengthy term ahead of me and a promise of residency at the other end to
make a move.” I paused. “But you, better than most, should know what I mean.
That’s why you moved in with me–to get away from an oppressive situation, isn’t
it?”

“You’re right, of course.
But still, I would have every difficulty in the world saying no to my mom and
dad.”

“Same here, Tiff, but I
don’t see your mother knocking at the door every second day or her being on the
phone three or four times a week, is she?”

“You’ve got that right,
but I had to put my foot down, with my dad’s help, and tell Mom, that she
better stay away unless she didn’t want me to come home every so often.”

I supposed that was one
of the things I would have to do when my mother was here. I would need to set
her straight.
I hate confrontations.

Chapter
20

I was a little more
relaxed the next day when I returned to the hospital for another day with Dr.
Elizabeth Aldridge. I still couldn’t understand why Jeff hadn’t mentioned
anything about her when he first noticed that I was one of the new interns. And
that was the point, wasn’t it? He hadn’t come out with the truth because they
were not separated or divorced. If they had been, even during a trial
separation, he would not have hesitated to tell me. On the other hand, if his
wife was looking for an excuse to clean him out, having a mistress would spell
Jeff’s ruin. He would probably be stripped of his privilege in this hospital
just because of his ‘indiscretion’ with a medical staff even though they
usually only frowned upon it. He would have no choice but go into private
practice or to another hospital across the country. Being a renowned surgeon
comes with its disadvantages and limitations. You’re in the public eye. And
your public is not only comprised of your patients, but of the people who watch
over you like hawks. The administrators and the Board, in particular. They are
all watching our every move.