“Great. Thanks.”
Sam was watching us, a smile crinkling his eyes. An almost painful tightness wrapped my heart. Get used to it, I admonished myself.
Dinner was fine, I was fine. I told everyone about my arrangements with Dr. Whitaker, and they were thrilled. We talked about Danny’s school year. Dad talked about work. Mom talked about the upcoming local elections. I acted normally throughout, and it wasn’t actually too hard. I just couldn’t look at Sam for more than a second without that ache coming back, my throat tightening up and my hands shaking. Otherwise, no problem.
“Well, I’ve got to go,” I said the second I thought I could make a run for it.
“Let me make you up a plate, Millie,” my mom said, leaping for her Tupperware.
“Oh, no, that’s okay, Mom. It was fantastic, but, um, no thanks. Send it home with Danny and Sam.”
I kissed my parents and waved to Danny. “Bye, Sam,” I said, grabbing my purse.
“I’ll walk you out,” Sam said, rising
“No, no, that’s okay.” Heat rushed to my face as I fumbled for my coat.
“Don’t be silly.” Sam caught up to me in the hall and put his arm around my shoulders, his familiar height so unbearably dear to me that I almost cried. Mutely, I let him escort me down the walk and to my car. My heart thudded in my chest, and I seemed to have forgotten how to take a breath.
Sam leaned against my car door, blocking access to the escape pod. “Everything okay, Millie?” he asked.
“Yes! Everything is great!” I exclaimed, looking skyward.
He squinted at me, cop-like. “You’re acting strange.”
“Really?”
“Is it breaking up with Joe?” he asked. “Because I know you guys were pretty tight this summer. It must be tough.”
“You have no idea,” I said. “Literally no idea.”
“Well, why don’t we go out for a bite some night and you can tell me about it?”
“Um, sure, Sam. That would be terrific. Listen, I have to go now, though, because, um, I have to call a patient back at nine o’clock, and—”
“Oh! Sorry, Millie. I’ll let you go.” Ever the gentleman, he opened my door for me. “I’ll call you this week, okay?”
“Bye!” I stretched my mouth into a smile and nearly backed over his foot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A NEW CHAPTER OF MY LIFE was unfolding. Unfortunately, it wasn’t any better than the previous chapters. More pretending. More faking. And the fact that I was avoiding Sam, who’d been so good and kind to me for decades, killed me. I dodged his invitation when he called later in the week. Dinner together? How about if we drown me instead?
Danny was the bright spot. He came over with his Notre Dame application and we pored over it as if it were a missing book of the New Testament or the newest Harry Potter.
“‘What is the best book you’ve ever read and why?’ Brutal!” I said. “I guess we can’t say Goodnight Moon.”
“Why not?” Danny laughed. “You haven’t read that to me in about six months.”
“Don’t get me started. My baby nephew is going off to college. I’m going to bawl. Now what is the best book you’ve ever read?” I asked, getting up to give him more meat loaf.
“Hmm. I guess that would be The Iliad.”
“God! Mine is Bridget Jones’s Diary. Somehow, I think your choice is a better answer.”
We roughed out his essays, me murmuring encouragingly as he talked his way through the sections.
“Okay, what are you going to put down for your preliminary major?” I asked, going through the easier questions.
“Pre-med.”
I looked up, startled. “Really?”
“Yup. One of my favorite people is a doctor, and I want to be just like her when I grow up.” He smiled at me and started packing up his papers.
“Danny…” I said, my eyes wet, “you’re already ten times the person I’ll ever be.”
“Well,” he said modestly, looking so much like Sam it just about broke my heart. “We’ll see about that.”
He gave me a moment to blow my nose and dab my eyes, tolerated a kiss, and then shrugged into his jacket.
“Have you heard from your mom?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. Every night at ten. I’m going down to New York City to spend the weekend with her. Gonna go to some museums, maybe see a show.”
“That sounds like fun. Give her my love.” My feelings had softened a bit toward Trish lately. I’d even called her a couple of times, listening without censure as she described Avery’s latest car or the restaurant that had just opened in SoHo.
Danny gave me a hug. “Thanks for the help, Aunt Mil. God, I hope I get in.”
“Danny, you have a 4.0 average, you got 2380 on your SATs, you volunteer for Habitat for Humanity, you play varsity baseball and you have very straight teeth. You’ll get in.”
I STARTED RUNNING AGAIN. If Joe passed me, I planned on waving, but he never did. He’d finished at the senior center, so I was safe when I made rounds there. Katie insisted that I get out and dragged me to the movies. Curtis and Mitch called almost daily. I went to work, but I didn’t really have that much to do. I stopped by to see Danny once or twice only when I was pretty sure Sam was working. Sam called me a few times and asked me to go out, but after the third time I gave him an excuse, he backed off.
It would just take time, I rationalized, to get used to this and be able to deal with it gracefully. One day, things would be back to normal, and Sam and I could be friends again. We would talk on the phone and maybe go for a run together. He would meet someone, and the three of us would have dinner together, and I would be happy for him. You betcha. One of these old days. Until then, I planned a campaign of evasive maneuvers.
I hadn’t counted on Sam pulling me over for speeding one night. When I saw the flashing lights in my rearview mirror, I cursed. Pulling over to the side of Route 6 by the Visitors Center, I watched Sam unfold himself from the patrol car. Officer Ethel got out also, but she just leaned against the cruiser, lit up a cigarette and sucked deeply, her cheeks hollowing. She tossed me a careless wave.
“Hey, Millie. Looks like this is the only way I get to see you.” Sam leaned down and smiled at me. My heart squeezed painfully.
“Oh, Officer, please don’t give me a ticket. I’m a doctor and I have a medical emergency.” I tried to find the old groove I used to have with Sam. It fell flat.
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” He waited expectantly.
I sighed. “I don’t know, Sam. Are you really going to give me a ticket?”
“Nope. You were only doing forty-four. I just saw your car and wanted to say hi. Seems like you’ve been awfully busy lately.”
“Yes, yes, very busy,” I said, looking straight ahead, hoping the darkness hid the tears that pricked my eyes. “Lots to do.”
He looked at me another minute, his smile fading. “Okay, Millie. I’ll see you around.”
I glanced quickly at him and took a quick breath. “Okay, Sam. Thanks. Good to see you.”
I zipped away, safe for another day.
OCTOBER’S COOLER WEATHER seemed to come overnight. The poison ivy flashed brilliant red, the maples and locust trees glowed with yellow, the oaks a solemn brown. All of a sudden, summer was over. It was a bittersweet time. Never had I felt so in tune with the seasons…. My summer brightness had faded, and I felt a long winter of the soul coming on.
But I was determined to get on with my life. I would keep running and trying to eat right, since I didn’t want to lose my newfound health. It was funny, though. All that time spent trying to lose weight, and now I found eating to be a bit of a chore. But I plugged along resignedly, chewing food I didn’t much taste, staring at the kitchen table a lot.
Thank God for Digger. I appreciated his company more than ever. In the evenings, I taught him silly tricks, like collapsing to the floor if I pointed my finger at him and said, “Bang.” He learned to crawl, toss a cookie off his nose and catch it midair, and sneeze on command. “I’m sorry, Diggy,” I said the night that he failed to learn to dance on his hind legs. Still, I was grateful that he entertained me, even if it was at the cost of his personal dignity. For his reward, I started letting him sleep on my bed.
I tried to read. Medical journals were the only thing I could get through, which was lucky, since I wanted to be on top of things when I started with Dr. Whitaker in a few weeks. I thought about taking a quick vacation, going off-Cape for some of that time, but I didn’t think I could afford anything far enough to be worthwhile, and frankly, I didn’t have the energy.
I tried not to think about Sam.
ON COLUMBUS DAY WEEKEND, we had a party to say goodbye. Dr. Bala and his family came, as did Jill and her husband, and Juanita from the hospital. Sienna brought a boyfriend, a sinister-looking man in leather and metal who actually was quite sweet and friendly, Satan-worshipping garb aside. Jeff, our dear college student, couldn’t make it, as he was back at Tufts, but we generously forgave him. Pizza and soda were passed around, and we all felt a bit nostalgic.
“Do you remember the man who unfortunately put the nail through his hand? Goodness, that was a nasty one. It reminded me of a crucifixion,” Dr. Bala reminisced.
“And the lady who fell asleep naked on her deck? Poor thing! I have never seen such bad sunburn!” Jill chuckled.
“What about the newlyweds with poison ivy?” Sienna hooted. (I had to fake-laugh on that one.)
“What are your plans, Dr. Balamassarhinarhajhi?” I asked, the now-familiar syllables rolling effortlessly from my lips.
“You can call me by my given name, you know, Millie,” he said in his lovely, lyrical accent.
“Well, actually, Dr. Balamassarhinarhajhi, I don’t know your given name.” Dr. B. had always signed his name in trademark doctor scrawl, and we had no nameplates around our seasonal clinic. I had only seen his first name listed as J.
“You do not? Oh, dear, dear. Well, it’s John.”
I stared at him. “You’re joking. It’s really John?”
He smiled. “Oh, you Americans are so funny. So culturally stifled.” His beautiful wife joined in his merry laughter.
“Your plans, John?” I repeated, grinning in spite of myself.
“I will be heading up another clinic in New Hampshire, a permanent position close to my son’s university, so I will not return to Cape Cod except for vacation,” he answered.
“I hope you’ll call me when you’re back,” I said, meaning it.
“I certainly will, Millie. It has been a pleasure working with a young doctor of your competence and good humor.”
“Well, thank you very much. I’ve learned a lot from you, sir.”
Because Dr. Bala was headed north, I offered to take up his last few shifts. With Jeff back in college, I also answered the infrequent phone calls after four and did the small amount of paperwork necessary. It meant working until ten at night, but I didn’t care. Jill came in for a few hours during the middle of the day, but we were pretty much finished. I only saw a few patients over the last week, spending most of the time reading or sending falsely cheerful e-mails to Danny and my off-Cape friends. Most days, I brought Digger with me so he (and I) wouldn’t have to spend the whole day alone.
I was waiting. Waiting for work to begin with Dr. Whitaker, waiting for the next chapter of my life, waiting for the ache over Sam to subside.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ON THE VERY LAST NIGHT that the clinic was open, I sat in my office, packing up a few papers and deleting some files from the computer. Jill was long gone, and the silence of the empty space echoed, the clock’s ticking very prominent in the quiet. Digger and I reviewed his repertoire, but it seemed like his doggy eyes were begging for reprieve, so I gave him a chew stick and rubbed his back with my foot as I let myself steep in melancholy.