LUNCH was pretty silent for the first ten minutes of it—a fallout from Izzy, Anna guessed. Actually, she liked Izzy a lot—her spunk, her drive, her passion. Mitch was nothing like her. At least, now he wasn’t. In the past, though, when he’d been a doctor? She could picture him with that same drive and passion, but she didn’t know if that was the fantasy version or the reality. And for sure the reality, as it existed now, lacked those qualities.
She still wanted to know what had happened to him. Sure, he’d probably blow her off again. But, hey, nothing ventured, nothing learned.
“What caused you to burn out, Mitch?” she asked casually, as the waiter served up a burger so large it would take her two days to eat. It had been a long time she’d done anything other than pick at her food. “Lanli said you were a great doctor, but that one day you just walked out. And I get the feeling Izzy isn’t happy with that choice. Before you tell me it’s none of my business, though, let me tell you why it is.” Last time she’d asked it hadn’t mattered much—just conversation to fill in the pauses. Now she had a vested interest in his answer.
“You’re right. It’s none of your business. And make that two for two. My mother’s not happy with my choice, like I’m not happy about her choice to go out to the county home and protest about their food. But that’s what she does, and it’s her business, not mine,” he snapped. “Just like my reason for quitting medicine.”
“Yeah, I know. Your business. But guess what, Mitch? I have a stake in that business now, because you’re helping me, and I want to know if I can count on that—count on you. I mean, are you going to walk out on me one day like you did your job?” Thin ice here, and judging from the frown on his face she guessed she might be on the verge of crashing through it into the chilly waters below. She was taking a big chance, depending on him the way she was. And she had to know if she could take that chance, considering it was a very long road ahead, one she’d be measuring by fractions of inches, if she decided to stay on it.
“Izzy is accomplishing something worthwhile, Mitch. Or at least trying to. You know what it’s like to accomplish something worthwhile and, sure, you know the other side of that, too. So do I, actually. I’ve worked my butt off to save the life of a patient who simply does not survive no matter what I’ve done, and I’ve worked my butt off to save someone who does. Either way it’s all worthwhile because at the time you don’t know the outcome, and even if you did, you wouldn’t walk away.
“So maybe the one thing you’ve never thought about is what’s worthwhile from the patient’s point of view. And me knowing why you quit is definitely worth my while since it could have a direct bearing on how I progress or don’t progress.”
Time to shut up and eat. Let him think about it, or not. Funny how just a few days ago she hadn’t wanted any part of this…or him. Too much effort, too much doubt, and she was, in her own estimation, not worthwhile. That was changing—maybe not a hard change that came with a blood, sweat and tears commitment yet, but a commitment of sorts, nevertheless. And she wanted to believe it was in her. More than that, she needed to believe it was in him.
Anna trusted Mitch, but she needed to know if she could trust that trust. Now it was time to wait for his move…if he was going to make one. Back to the burger—which was delicious, but after three bites Anna was already filling up.
“You’re not through with that, are you?” he asked. “You’ve barely touched it.”
She pushed it away. “I don’t eat much.”
“Yeah, and it shows. If you want to work out, build up muscle mass and strength, you’ve got to eat.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Anna said.
“The subject is about building you back up. The rest of it doesn’t matter. So eat the burger. All of it, including the pickle, and when you’re done I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Really?”
Mitch nodded. “One-time offer, because part of what you said does make some sense, and you do have a right to know since what I do affects you. But it isn’t going to be that easy.” He grinned. “You get what I’ve got after every crumb is gone. No stuffing it in your pocket for Ralphie.”
“Alrighty, then…” Anna looked at the burger, thanked heaven she hadn’t ordered fries, and sucked in a deep breath. Six months ago she could have done this, with fries, then gone back for a hot fudge sundae. “Excuse me for a few minutes while I eat. Does that include the lettuce? Because I hate lettuce on my burger.”
“Care for more mayo with that?” Mitch asked, sliding his little crock of mayonnaise across the table to her. “More onion or tomato?”
Anna shook her head. “I’m fine,” she managed between bites.
She was slowing down. Half of her burger still to eat, and she was beginning to turn up her nose at every bite. Cute nose. He liked the way it crinkled. Her top lip crinkled when her nose did, and he liked that, too.
One thing about Anna, she was a looker. Even in her devitalized state she had what it took to turn a head…his head, anyway. But what man didn’t like to look at a gorgeous blonde? And she sure as hell was that. Under different circumstances…No, he wasn’t going to torture himself that way. Under different circumstances they wouldn’t have met, and he wouldn’t be sitting here practically aroused because she had the sexiest way of chewing food he’d ever laid eyes on. So slow, so methodical…And hell, the way she licked her lips…
Mitch exhaled a long, deep, astounded sigh. He would have dated Anna once upon a time, when he’d dated. Which he didn’t now, hadn’t since—well, since he’d quit being a doctor. Not that one thing had anything to do with the other. But when he’d burned out, he’d burned out in pretty much everything. And she did have a right to know why. So much of the rehabilitation process was the mental effort, the psychological umph put into it. Anna wasn’t even on the verge of that yet, but she was beginning to creep up on it, and she was afraid that once she got there, he would be gone. A valid fear.
“Mustard? Ketchup? Relish?”
Anna shook her head and kept on chewing. She was turning a little green, he thought. Fighting a battle that was fighting her back. And maybe that was good. Maybe the only thing that moved her forward was an in-her-face challenge, instead of the basic confrontation approach he’d been using. Tell her she couldn’t, then watch her struggle to prove that she could.
That was almost as sexy as the way she chewed. Someone to rise to his challenge.
Damn, what was he thinking about? She was sexy, but he didn’t need the baggage. He wasn’t over all his old baggage, and Anna was toting some pretty hefty steamer trunks of her own. But he wasn’t going on that cruise, which meant he simply couldn’t watch her eat or he’d be tempted to. So as she finished off the last of her burger, he stared out the window, trying to conjure up an image of Izzy chained to a stove. Like she’d even know what a stove was.
“Done,” Anna announced, reaching for her iced tea. “Now it’s your turn.” He’d been awfully quiet while she’d been eating. Probably holding his breath he wouldn’t have to ’fess up. Too bad, she thought.
“Pick up the lettuce,” he said. “Let me see what’s hiding under it.”
“You mean besides you trying to back out of our deal?” Anna picked up the leaf of anemic iceberg and threw it at him. “See, not even a crumb.” And she was proud of it. Sure, it was only a hamburger, and in the scheme of things it didn’t count for much, except that he hadn’t thought she could eat the whole thing, and she had. A small victory. It felt good to be on the winning side for a change. “So now it’s time to tell me all your deep, dark secrets.”
“Let’s see. The first time I had sex…” He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. “College freshman, frat party. Lots of beer. I think she was my English instructor.”
“You think?”
He smiled. “Well, let’s just say I’d like to think she was, and leave it at that. Anything else? I don’t really remember my second time. Want me to just skip on over to my last time?”
“You know what I want, Mitch, and you’re trying to change the subject, just like you always do.” Backing away from the table to allow the waiter to clear the dishes, Anna waited until he was bustling away before she continued. “It’s up to you. If you don’t want to tell me why you quit, that’s OK. I won’t ask again.” And she wouldn’t. Sure, she wanted to know. The nurse in her was curious why a good doctor would simply walk away. The patient in her needed to know if that possibility loomed in her future. And the rest of her wanted to know because…well, she was beginning to like Mitch. He was fast becoming an important part of her life and she was just plain curious. Not so curious that she would nag him into something he didn’t want to do, though.
“So, do you think we need to go bail out your mom yet?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject, giving him an out if he wanted it.
Grimacing, Mitch closed his eyes. “I really didn’t think you could eat the whole thing.”
Anna waited for more, but he was quiet for almost a minute. Trying to dredge it out maybe? Or perhaps looking for a way to evade it? “I’m ready to leave,” she finally said. “I’m getting tired. Need to go home, take a nap.” Once she was home she’d never mention it again.
“In a minute.” He breathed in a deep, steadying breath then exhaled it slowly and finally opened his eyes, but didn’t look at Anna. Didn’t look at anything in particular except the street outside. Maybe not even that—maybe he was staring at something he hadn’t faced in a long time, something Anna was beginning to think she didn’t have a right to invade.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, I do.” His gaze shifted to her. “And I’d have told you even if you hadn’t eaten the whole burger.”
“That’s low down.” Anna laughed.
“Sometimes you do what you have to do.” He smiled half-heartedly. “Anyway, when Izzy said I was like her, she was right…to a point. Her whole life has been about making things better in the world, and some of that did rub off on me. A lot of it, I guess, which is why I went to med school, to make things better. I couldn’t go out on the activist trail like Izzy. That’s not me. But being a doctor—that’s where I thought I belonged. Working with people like…” He paused, shrugging. “Like you, Anna. Believe it or not, unlike you, most of my patients didn’t resist me. They always had expectations, hopes…big hopes. They’d come to me in some form of battered, broken body and expect me to make them better, to perform miracles. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn’t. And the didn’t was getting to me. Problem was, there was nothing I could do about it. Some damage is irreparable, and it just got too damn hard, telling them they weren’t going to be one of the lucky ones.”
“I’m so sorry,” Anna whispered. She wanted to reach across the table, take his hand, give him the reassurances she’d given so many times as a nurse. It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry, things will get better. But the look in Mitch’s eyes was so far away, so lost, she knew the empty platitudes didn’t matter. There were no reassurances for Mitch unless he found them himself.
“So was I, which is why I left. He was nine, real cute kid. The kind you’d hope for if you were gonna have a kid of your own. And he believed in me, believed I could make him better. And I told him I could.” A sigh steeped in bitterness and pain escaped him. “Damn it. A doctor can’t ever make those kinds of promises, but I did. And I really meant it.”
“What was wrong with him?”
He finally looked at Anna. “Drunk driver hit him in his own front yard. Up and over the curb in the middle of the afternoon. At first it looked like surgery might fix him up, but it didn’t. Then when I told him he was going to be a paraplegic, he simply smiled and said, ‘That’s OK, Doc.’ But it wasn’t OK. What happened to him wasn’t OK. That I didn’t have anything to offer him wasn’t OK. And I broke my promise…”
“So you quit.”
He nodded, turning his face back to the window. “Harsh brush with cold, cruel reality. I couldn’t do what I wanted to do. Couldn’t fix the people who expected me to fix them.”
“So at the point you quit medicine, you didn’t think your successes counted for anything?” His heart for it was gone, she knew. That was plain. And it was so complicated because, no matter what she’d been through over the months, the only thing she hadn’t lost was her heart for her job. She wanted to go back to it more than anything else she wanted for herself, and it was hard to understand someone who would simply walk away from what he loved because he chose to, and not because he was forced to. She supposed that, in a sense, Mitch had been forced to. Maybe it wasn’t so much that Mitch’s heart for it was gone as that his heart was broken. Perhaps in time he’d heal.
Or not.
“My successes?” He laughed bitterly. “You’re good, Anna, but not good enough to play psychiatrist on me. Bring up the successes to offset the failures. Nice try, but it doesn’t work that way. One failure, one little boy who will never be able to play baseball again, will always wipe out a lifetime of successes. And, yes, I’m happy for all the successes, and they do count for a lot. But they move on, and the failures don’t. They eat at you, never let go. And you always wonder if you could have done more, or if you should have done something differently.”
“Lanli said you were very good, Mitch. The best. And that’s high praise from someone in your own profession—someone who worked with you. She said you gave everybody one hundred percent. So do you think maybe this is simply a case of you being too hard on yourself? Having too many expectations?”
“Sometimes they needed one hundred ten percent, Anna. So I guess it depends on how you measure good, doesn’t it? As for my expectations of me…they didn’t work out. And that’s it. My story. Nothing more to say.”
Anna shifted in her chair, moved it further in under the table just to get a little closer to him. Realistically, there was nothing she could do, but every instinct inside was screaming that she had to try. She just didn’t know what to try. He was a conscientious man, a conscientious doctor. And he cared deeply—so deeply, in fact, that he carried it all with him even now. “Have you ever thought about going back?”
He looked back over at her, his eyes stark. “Every day. Then I go carve another bowl and get over it. The bowl has no expectation of me, or the outcome of my work, not like my patients did, or would…if I went back.”
“So why me, Mitch?” she asked. “I mean, apart from the fact that you owed Lanli a favor, why did you decide you’d repay it with me?”
“Honestly?”
Anna nodded.
The grimace that had started this conversation returned to his face, but this time he didn’t look away or even close his eyes. He simply stared into hers. “Because you’re like the bowls I carve. No expectations of me, or the outcome of my work.”
Surprisingly, Kyle hadn’t backed out of their date this evening. In fact, there was a message on the answering machine when Mitch dropped her off after lunch. “I find myself with a free evening, darling. So I’ll stop by around seven.”
She’d almost laughed. He was penciling her into his busy schedule, into a free slot where somebody else had, no doubt, canceled. No romanticizing that fact.
Mitch had been up for some leg lifts, but that was good for only five minutes. Then he was out of there and she had the rest of the afternoon to get ready for her big evening with Kyle.
“That Mitch is really cute,” Sunny said, helping Anna into something other than cotton jerseys. “Saw him on the way in, and I’ve got to tell you if I needed someone to lift my legs, he’d be the one.” She winked at her friend. “Lift them or spread them.”
“Yeah, well, the lifting part may be doable at some point, but the spreading…”
“You’re in a better mood lately. Anything to do with Mitch?”
“Too tired to be grumpy.”
“But I saw you almost smile when I said his name—Mitch, not Kyle. He’s good for you, sweetie. Real good.”
“He’s a slave-driver.”
A devilish expression crossed Sunny’s face. “So tell me what he can do with a whip.”
Anna wheeled herself over to her clothes rack and selected a pair of black silky slacks and a plain white top. Even now, at the end of the relationship, she was still accustomed to slipping into the look Kyle expected from her. “It’s not like that with Mitch,” Anna protested. “We’re strictly professional—he’s the trainer, I’m the trainee. And I sweat through my antiperspirant with him. Hard to turn that into something else.”
“But it could be something other than professional, couldn’t it? If you shower after you sweat. And speaking of showers, your dad says Mitch is helping you do that these days. Is that true? I mean, that sounds like turning it into something other than professional to me.”
“No, it couldn’t and, no, he didn’t, and no, it isn’t.” Days ago she would have snapped off Sunny’s head over that implication. A man like Mitch didn’t want a woman like her, and any other thinking was just plain foolish. She didn’t feel like snapping at Sunny, though. No reason. No need. Maybe the exercise was working out her anger, or maybe acceptance was finally settling in. Whatever the case, after Sunny left, Anna simply pulled on her clothes then went into the living room and waited for Kyle.
He was punctual and precise as usual, when he showed up. “Where’s your ring, darling?” he said, brushing the side of her face with an impersonal kiss. Not, Hello, how was your day? Just straight to the rock. “You haven’t lost it, have you? I do have it insured…”
Anna glanced down at her finger. Amazing how quickly she’d forgotten about it. “It’s in the drawer. I was lifting weights and I couldn’t wear it. Guess I forgot to put it back on.”
“Weights?” Kyle breezed on through the hallway to the living room, and was stretched out on the couch before Anna wheeled herself in. “I thought he was supposed to get you up walking.”
Mitch always waited for her, no matter how slow she was. He’d wait for her to catch up, then stroll along beside her—unless he was proving a point. But Kyle wasn’t proving a point. He simply didn’t want to walk with her. Or do anything else with her either. “That’s part of it.” She stopped a respectable distance across the room from Kyle and locked her brakes. “But I’ve got to build up some strength first. I’ve gotten pretty weak these past few months.”
“That’s to be expected,” he said. “You know, I was doing some research. There’s a wonderful rehab facility in New Jersey, and I was wondering if you might be better getting yourself into a completely new environment. A fresh start. Get away from all the old ties, the memories.” He pulled a brochure from his jacket pocket and set it on the table instead of handing it to her.
“New Jersey, Kyle?” Anna snapped. “Last time it was Texas.”
“I’m concerned about getting you better, darling, and I want what’s best for you—especially since you don’t seem to be making much improvement here at home. Lanli did say you’d walk again, but it’s been six months already and nothing’s happened. Which is why I thought someplace with a new approach might be just what you need.”
“I was in the emergency room day before yesterday, Kyle. Several hours. And I know Bonsi called you. If you’re so concerned about me, where were you? Or where was your phone call after I got home? Sure, I got the flowers, but flowers hardly take the place of the man who’s supposed to love you.”
“My schedule—”
Anna thrust out her palm to stop him. Same old conversation, same old excuses. “That’s OK,” she said. It wasn’t, though. Nothing about them was OK anymore. But making that final pronouncement…She sighed. “And I’ll think about that place in New Jersey.” Talk about same old, same old. This was the same old Anna speaking now, backing down from Kyle. The easy Anna, who always said what Kyle wanted to hear. “Have you ever been to that little pub over by the campus? The one just across the street from the bookstore?”
“I don’t usually go to student hangouts.”
Of course he didn’t. She knew that. “Could we go there for dinner tonight, Kyle? Grab a burger, have a Coke?” And she wasn’t even hungry.
Kyle’s answer was evident in his incredulous blink. “I thought we’d order Chinese—have it delivered.”
“I’d like to go out someplace, Kyle. It doesn’t have to be the pub—just anyplace that’s not here. You pick.”
“I did,” he said stiffly. “Chinese, here.”
“You don’t want to be seen with me, do you?” she asked, surprisingly calm. She’d pictured this moment in tears or rage, not perfect calm. But sadly it didn’t warrant an outburst of emotions. What was done was done. So be it for their engagement.
“That’s not it, darling.” Kyle scooted to the edge of the couch. He even had the decency to look a little disturbed.
Was he sensing something coming? Anna wondered. “Sure it is. You haven’t gone out in public with me once since the accident. Not even to the hospital. So the only thing I can think of is that it embarrasses you to be seen with the crippled woman.”
“Nonsense,” he sputtered.
“No, Kyle, plain sense, finally. It’s been there all along. I just didn’t want to see it.”
“It’s that burnout rehab doctor, isn’t it? He’s been filling your head full of things that you’re simply not ready for yet.” Standing, Kyle walked halfway across the room to Anna, then stopped. For a moment she saw a pause of uncertainty cross his face. Then it hit her. He was like everybody else—he had limitations, and she was his. She didn’t even hate him for it because he didn’t deserve to be hated, just like Mitch didn’t deserve to be hated because he’d reached his limit in rehab medicine.
“No, Kyle, it’s not Mitch. It’s me. I have to find my life again, whatever that will be. And, believe me, at this point I don’t have a clue how it will turn out except that we won’t be there together. For the longest time I thought that you would come round, that I would have a miracle, but neither of those things is going to happen. You don’t want to be seen in public with a disabled attachment, and I don’t want someone who doesn’t want to be seen with me. So the solution’s simple.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” Kyle laughed bitterly. “I’ve been patient all these months, Anna. And it hasn’t been easy. But I’ve always believed you’d get better, so I stayed.”
“You stayed? What do you mean, you stayed?”
“I didn’t walk out on you.”
“But you were never here, Kyle, and, believe it or not, I’m not even angry about that because I understand why. You couldn’t be. It’s not in you.”
“This is crazy!” he exclaimed, pacing over to the window. Turning his back to Anna, he stared out. “And you’re not going to convince me that hack doctor isn’t responsible for this change in you. Until he came along things were just fine.”
“Were they, Kyle? Are they now? If I said I’d changed my mind, that I’d go to New Jersey, and could we get married right away before I leave? Would you do that?”
No answer.
“Would you marry me, Kyle?” she asked again.
“It’s not that simple, Anna, and you know it. In time, as you improve…”
“And what happens, in time, if I don’t?”
“You will. That rehab center in New Jersey produces good results.”
“I’m not a result, Kyle. I’m a woman, the one you asked to marry you last Christmas.” Anna wheeled herself over to the window next to him, but he wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t take her hand or put his arms around her and tell her things were going to be good between them again, because he didn’t believe they would. “I’m not going to New Jersey, or Texas, or anywhere else.”
“What started this, Anna?” he asked, finally turning to face her. “Where did it come from all of a sudden?”
“A burger,” she said. “I ate the whole thing.” And Mitch had sat with her in public when she’d done it.