“Maternal-fetal medicine is good. Maybe just practice general ob-gyn and do what is needed, like Peggy.”
“She’s a good role model,” she said, “but I don’t think our generation will let you do all of the things she did, like amniocentesis, advanced ultrasound, lupus, and diabetes. Kind of like your grandfather.”
“I could always do a fellowship after I’ve been out and am done with my boards. Maybe then I would have a clearer vision of what I wanted or what the community I live in needs.”
The food came. “I invited Ann,” he said, “but I should have included her husband. I don’t even know his name.”
She snickered, “Ask Haley. She’s right over there.” She looked to the table across from them.
His head pivoted like an owl’s. “Not,” he retorted.
“I don’t know his name. If she told me, I forgot.” She took a bite. “You said Haley wants Ricky to join her in her apartment. Why don’t they do it?”
“Ricky said they are taking it slow. They are both busy.”
“So are we.”
“But I don’t get the sense that he is totally smitten like I am.”
“Josh. Really?”
“Yes. I just love you. I couldn’t wait like they are. Maybe they are not as sure as I am.”
“What about me?” she asked. “How did you know I don’t want to go slow?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Whew. I thought you might say yes. I don’t want to go slow.”
She looked up to make eye contact and said, “Doesn’t Brian scare you?”
“A little,” he said. “There is something going on there that is beyond what we know. Or what I know, at least. It is hard to believe that it’s all just his nature.”
“It is a little. He always was fiery. I think he’s a lot more now than he was before.”
“He was scary in the restaurant.”
“Yeah,” she said, taking another bite, but not sounding as though scary was at the top of her list. “He’s getting worse.”
“You told me about Haley making fun of him. A week ago, or so, he chewed Haley for being ignorant about coronavirus. We all are ignorant about coronavirus. It will be years before we are not. I thought it was unfair.”
“I just avoid him. I don’t want to engage him because I would just fly off the handle and talk about things no one needs to know about.”
“Like chlamydia?”
“Yeah, and there are other things” she smiled. “Can you imagine what Haley would do with that?”
“I think it would serve him right.”
The bill came. Josh put a credit card in the folder and handed it back so quickly Faith had no time for reaction or discussion.
“You don’t have to pay for this.”
“Yes, I do. I’m dating you.”
“I can’t date, I’m married — no I’m not.” They laughed.
Josh’s car took them to his apartment. He opened the door and wandered back to the second bedroom encouraging her to follow. “What’s this?”
“My grandfather’s roll-top desk.” He was digging in little cubbies.
“Tell me about him,” she said.
“He died about ten years ago. He was quite a bit older than my grandmother and was in the second world war.”
“What did he do during the war? Was he a doctor?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Josh deeply, “That was a short answer.”
“He was born in 1914, went to medical school in Dallas, then came back to Clinton for a few years. He took time out for the war, and I don’t know anything about what he did, but I do know that he was quite skilled at trauma after returning to Clinton. Putting those things together, I bet he was in it up to his elbows.”
“Many people in that generation didn’t talk about the war.”
“My grandfather sure didn’t.”
She ran her fingers over the smooth finish. “It’s so elegant. It is also of dark wood, which is sort of out of style now.”
“Yes. He got it when he got back to Clinton after medical school. He knew the man that built it, but I didn’t.”
“Someone in Clinton?”
“Yes. I don’t know who it was or anything about him. My dad doesn’t even remember him.”
“I can’t believe how many tiny drawers and cubbyholes it has. The little drawers even still work.”
“Some of that is me. I did replace some of the metal drawer runners in the big drawers, and I keep the wooden runners of the little drawers soaped up.”
“Soaped?”
“Yes. That’s how you keep them sliding smoothly, according to my grandfather.”
She put her arm through his, “Keep it.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I’m not going to let it out of my sight.” He reached in one of the cubbies and handed her a key.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, duh. It’s the key to this apartment.”
“I didn’t accept yet,” she said.
“Yes, you did. And I’m so happy I can hardly stand it.” He was getting confident in reading her affirmative answers obscured deep in indirect verbiage.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, grabbing a little gym bag.
Josh took off his shoes and found some more beer in the refrigerator. He poured it into a pair of mugs she had gotten at the birthday party and placed them on the little table between the wing chairs. It was all he could do not to chug one, but she came back out in a sheer nightie and sat on his lap. He kissed her. She turned, putting her knees alongside his hips against the chair’s arms, facing him up close. He kissed her again, then explored her with his hands. She requited by pressing her breast into his face.
“I think I should go to the bathroom now,” he said, lifting her to the floor and fleeing. There, he changed into his usual night wear of shorts and a t-shirt. When he arrived back in the living room, she was gone. A squeaky giggle came from the bedroom. He joined her, holding her tight in his arms. So much for going slow, he thought.
Josh awoke to find Faith’s head on his shoulder, his arm numb, and his back stiff from a hard night’s sleep. He gently stroked the velvet skin of her naked back.
“Good morning,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Faith blinked her eyes trying to clear the Sandman away. He held her tight.
“I’ve got to go to work,” he reminded her, a message he knew she didn’t want to hear.
“I know. I just want to lay here. I don’t feel like going to work today.”
“You don’t have to. It’s Saturday, and you’re on call tomorrow,” he said, slithering out of the bed.
“If you’ll take your shower, I’ll fix coffee,” she said.
Showered and dressed, he headed to the kitchen where the aroma was tantalizing. Dressed in a terry cloth robe, she had made scrambled eggs with cheese, put them in a tortilla, and arranged them on plates. He smiled at the presentation. “Yum.”
She turned around and hugged him again. “How do I get home?”
“Go with me now? Or go back to bed and take Uber.”
“Back to bed and take Uber.”
“OK. Remember to take your key.”
He kissed her once more, gathered his things, and pushed himself out the door.
Sunday came fast enough. They both were at rounds but deliberately didn’t stand together. Haley was not to be outdone. “Faith, what’s with you, girl?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have pep in your step and a grin on your face. Did something happen?” Typical Haley.
Josh knew it would kill her not to know, and savored Faith’s skillful deflection, “I don’t know what you mean, Haley. Nothing happened. It was Saturday. I guess it was the beer.”
The contest was on. Josh wondered how long it would take Haley to find out, and how she would go about unearthing it.
Monday night found the two of them exhausted and on the couch. Reading was impossible, conversation dragged, and the television was boring. Before he recognized it, Faith had made a call and put her phone on speaker.