He and Mike had made big plans. They had both been on their way to Birmingham, Mark to complete his fellowship and Mike to earn his Master’s in Business. They would return to town to set up a clinic practice, Mark handling the medical end and Mike overseeing the business side. They’d even talked about their families building homes next door to each other. But after the accident Mike’s longtime girlfriend had left him. Those dreams vanished. Because of Mark.
As time had gone by it had become easier to satisfy his need to know how Mike was doing by asking others about him. Often when Mark had spoken to his father he’d ask about Mike. His father had always encouraged him to call and talk to Mike if he wanted to know how he was doing. Mark hadn’t. That way the guilt didn’t become a throbbing, breathing thing.
Mark pushed the front doorbell of his father’s house then opened the door. He was met in the high-ceilinged hall by John, the man who had worked for Mark, Sr. since Mark, Jr. had been a boy.
“Hi. How’s he doing today?”
“Your dad has had a good day. He’s out by the pool.”
Mark headed down the all-too-familiar hall that led through the middle of the house and out onto the brick patio with the pool beyond. His father sat in a wheelchair in the sun, with his nurse nearby, reading a book. Mark winced at the sight. It hurt his heart to see the strong, commanding man brought to this by a stroke. Only with time and patience and massive amounts of physical therapy would he regain enough strength to walk again. At least his father had a chance of getting out of the chair, unlike Mike, who had no choice.
Mark circled his father so he faced him. “Hi, Dad.”
His white-haired father gave him a lopsided smile. “Hello, son.”
Fortunately his mind was still strong. His nurse closed her book and after a nod to Mark made her way toward the house.
Mark pulled a metal pool chair close so he could sit where his father could see him. “How are you doing today?”
“Fine. Emmett has been by to tell me what went on at the board meeting. He said you didn’t make it.”
“No, I had patients to see. We’ve talked about this already. You’ve put good people in place to handle the company. Let them do it.”
“It’s not the same. We need a Clayborn there.”
“I know, Dad.”
His father continued. “I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you about attending the krewe dance next week. I can’t go and our family needs to be represented. You’re the only one to do it.”
Mark had always enjoyed the fanfare and glamour of The Mystical Order of Orion dance, the visit from the king and queen and their court. But after what had happened twelve years ago he was hesitant to attend. He took a deep breath. “It’s not really my thing anymore but I know it’s important to you to keep up appearances.”
“You were king. That is and was a high honor. You owe it to the krewe, to the Clayborn name to attend.”
“I know, Dad. I’ll do my duty.”
“This used to be your favorite time of the year. You need to let yourself off the hook, son. It wasn’t your fault.”
Maybe everyone thought that but Mark sure didn’t. He carried the horror of what had happened to Mike with him daily. Now that he was back in Mobile it was more alive than it had ever been. Time hadn’t healed the wound, only covered it over.
Mark had dinner with his father then headed across the bay to Fairhope, a small township where the family summer home was located. When he’d arrived in Alabama he’d needed a place to live. Staying in Fairhope gave him a house of his own, a safe haven. Since he was working at a clinic in Spanish Fort, a city just north of Fairhope, living there was convenient.
Entering the large dark room with hardwood paneling, Mark walked through to the family-style kitchen. There he pulled a drink out of the refrigerator and went out to the deck. Mobile Bay stretched far and wide before him. He could see the tall buildings of the city in the distance. The wind had picked up, rustling the shrubbery around the deck. A seagull swooped down and plucked a fish out of the water near the end of the pier. No, this wasn’t LA anymore.
Mark had agreed to pitch in and work the parades as a first responder when one of his new partners had said that they did that as a public service during Mardi Gras season. He’d agreed to do his part but had expected that it would be in some of the surrounding smaller towns. When he’d been assigned the parade in downtown Mobile he hadn’t felt like he could say no. He needed to be a team player since he’d only joined the medical group a few months earlier. Despite the parade location, Mark had enjoyed the assignment. Especially helping the young girl. Her mother had been attractive. More than once since then he’d wondered where she worked.
He’d spent the rest of the parade scanning the crowd. His chest still contracted at the thought he might see Mike. He’d spent years making a point of not thinking about the automobile accident. Now that he was back it seemed the only thing on his mind.
His cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket. “This is Dr. Clayborn.”
“Hey, Mark, it’s Ralph. We need you again the day after tomorrow if you can help us out. Afternoon parade in Dauphine.”
He didn’t mind working a parade in Dauphine. It was on his side of the bay. As long as it wasn’t in Mobile. There the chance of facing his past became greater. “Yeah, I’m only seeing patients in the morning. Will I be on a bike again?”
“Not this time. I just need you at the med tent. It’ll be set up in the First Baptist Church parking lot.”
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
“Marsha?” Laura Jo called as she and Allie opened the door of her best friend’s apartment Wednesday afternoon.
“Hey, we’re back here,” a voice came from the direction of the kitchen area located in the back of the apartment.
She followed Allie down the short hallway to find Marsha and her son, Jeremy, decorating a wagon with purple, green and gold ribbons.
Marsha looked up as they entered. “You know Mardi Gras almost kills me every year. I say I’m not going to do anything next year then here I am, doing even more.”
Allie had already joined in to help Jeremy with the decorations.
“I know what you mean. It makes working in the ER interesting. I’ve enjoyed my day off but I’ll pay for it, no doubt, by being on the night shift. I appreciate you letting Allie spend the night.”
“It’s not a problem. I love her like my own.” She ruffled Allie’s hair.
Laura Jo had met Marsha at the Mothers Without Partners clinic. Phil had lived up to all her father’s predictions and more when he’d left her pregnant and cleaned out their bank account to never be seen again. Even after all these years he hadn’t even checked to see if he had a son or daughter. Marsha’s husband had died in a fishing accident. She and Marsha had hit it off right away. Circumstances had brought them together but friendship had seen to it that they still depended on each other.
They’d shared an apartment for a few months and had traded off their time watching the kids while the other had worked or gone to school. They had their own apartments now but in the same complex and Marsha was more like family than the one Laura Jo had left behind.
They had joined forces to help other mothers who didn’t have anyone to fall back on. They had convinced the city to sell them an old home so these women would have a place to live and receive help while they were getting their lives in order. The deadline to pay for the house was looming. Finding the funding had become more difficult than Laura Jo had anticipated.
Marsha announced, “I heard from the city contact. He said we had to move soon on the house or the city will have to announce it’s for sale. They can’t hold it forever.”
Laura Jo groaned. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “How much time do we have?”
“Week or two. At least until things settle down after Mardi Gras. We’ve got to come up with a good way to raise a lot of money. Fast. I know you don’t want to do
it but you do have the contacts. Maybe you could put on a party dress and go pick the pockets of all those society friends you used to hang around with.”
Laura Jo shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. We’ll have to find another way.”
What if she had to face her mother and father? Worse, have them see her asking for money. That’s what they had thought she’d be doing if she married Phil. That’s what he’d wanted her to do, but she’d refused. After her fight with her parents she and Phil had gone to Las Vegas that night to get married.
When they’d returned Phil had left to work on an oil rig. Three weeks later he’d come home. A week later all his pay had gone and he’d admitted he’d been fired. He’d made noises about looking for a job but in hindsight she didn’t think he’d ever really tried. Things had got worse between them. The issue that finally snapped them had been Laura Jo telling him she was pregnant. Phil’s snarling parting words were, “I didn’t sign on for no kid. You can’t put that on me. Having you is bad enough.”
Marsha gave her questioning look. “You know I’m kidding but…”
“I’ll come up with something.” She checked her watch. “Now, I have to get to the hospital.” Stepping toward Allie, Laura Jo said to Marsha, “I’ll meet you at the parade tomorrow evening.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Laura Jo leaned down and kissed Allie on the head. “See ya. Be good for Marsha.”
“I will,” Allie replied, then returned to what she was doing.
“Thanks, Marsha.” Laura Jo called as she went up the hall.
* * *
Six hours later, Laura Jo was longing for her dinner and a moment to put her feet up. She wasn’t going to get either anytime soon. Working in a trauma one level hospital meant a constant influx of patients, not only the regular cases but Mardi Gras’s as well, which brought out the revelers and daredevils. Weekend nights were the worst and the place resembled a circus with not enough clowns to go around. Everyone had their hands full. The doors were swishing open regularly with people coming in. The constant ringing of the phone filled the area, blending with the piercing scream of ambulance sirens.
As she stepped back into the nursing station the phone rang again. Seconds later the clerk called out, “Incoming. Sixty-seven-year-old male. Heart attack. Resuscitating in transit. Child with head trauma behind that. ETA ten.”
“I’ll take the heart. Trauma six.” Laura Jo hurried to set up what was needed before the patient arrived.
Minutes later the high-pitched sound of the ambulance arriving filled the air and Laura Jo rushed outside. The double rear doors of the vehicle stood wide open. Usually by this time the EMTs would be unloading the patient.