“Now tell me what’s going to happen. It won’t work if you just go out and get it back from her.”
“I’m telling you. I broke it off.”
“That’s what you said before. Why do I not believe you now?”
“It’s the truth,” he said.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon?”
“In the library.”
“Can you prove that?”
“How could I?”
“Show me your computer login record. It would show where you logged in from.”
“I didn’t log in. I just went to read in a quiet place.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“There isn’t anything else to say.”
She finished a few bites on her plate. “I’m going for a run.” In a few minutes, she emerged from the bedroom in running clothes but stopped dead at the dinner table.
“Aren’t you going to clean up dinner?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“I made dinner. I even cleaned up all the pots and utensils. All you have to do is load the dishwasher.”
He isn’t a husband. What is he? Natalie’s words echoed.
“They’d better be cleaned up when I get back,” she said, opening the door and placing ear buds.
“Good-bye,” he said.
The run was rejuvenating, uplifting, and quieting. She enjoyed the fresh air, the pleasant temperature, and the beauty of the sunset. But as she rounded the last corner toward home, the ache in her soul produced mascara-laced tears.
She opened the door and stepped in, wet hair, damp clothes, and still breathing heavily. “Why didn’t you clean up dinner?”
“I’ll do it later.”
Her anger transformed into clanking dishes, rattling silverware, and banging cupboards. When she headed for a shower, the dishwasher hissed. There was no perceptible response from Brian.
Emerging from the shower in a bath robe and with a towel on her head, she turned on the television. “I need some noise to study,” she said. “It’s too quiet in here.”
Body language, a sigh, and a glare showed his displeasure, but the usual argument didn’t ensue.
“You know, Brian, I think I want you to move out. Just get a few of your things and get out of here for a while. I have to reconcile this in my brain.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t care. Get a hotel room for a few days. Then we can talk about it again.”
“This is my apartment. My name is on the lease. If you are so adamant about separating, you’re the one who should leave.”
“No. You’re the one who screwed this up — literally. You should bear the consequences. My name’s on the lease too.”
“OK. Whatever.” He went about packing a few things in a roller bag, took his laptop and left, slamming the door behind him.
“God, Natalie,” Faith said when Nat answered the phone. “Guess what! He gave me an STD.”
“Ha,” she spurted in return. “See, you should have kicked him out.”
“Nat, I still would have chlamydia.”
“Well. What a rat! You deserve better than this. Can I tell mom?”
Faith’s heart stopped. “Tell mom?” She had to process for a moment. There were no secrets in the family, but Natalie was a reliable confidant when necessary. Maybe it wasn’t necessary. “Yes, I guess so. I kicked him out.”
“Now,” Natalie said, “you need to resist taking him back. This should be it. Quit being the softie.”
Faith couldn’t process fast enough to respond before Natalie moved the conversation along. “You deserve better than this. You need to reset your life.”
“How’s mom?” Faith’s typical change-of-subject.
“Good. She has gotten control of her diabetes and has a new doctor she likes. Last night she went to a group meeting where she met other people with diabetes and learned new tricks. She sounded encouraged.”
“That’s good,” Faith said. “She was bummed out about the diagnosis. I hope she gets a grip of it.”
“She will.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Natalie. I love you.”
“I love you. Get rid of Brian!”
Chapter 4
Josh Menkowicz finished his computer work at the charting station in Labor and Delivery, looking forward to his call night and hoping to deliver several babies. Maybe he would get to participate in another cesarean section. Filling out his delivery log had been encouraging, building up pages of experience. After sorting and entering pieces of information into the computer, he crumpled a piece of paper and threw it across the room where it went directly into the trash can.
“Three-pointer!” Faith said, entering the charting area. “Good shot.” She went to the trash can, picked out the crumpled ball of paper, and handed it back to Josh. With a mischievous smirk, she sank into a chair, “I want to see it again.”
“There’s no way. That was just a lucky shot.” He pitched the ball toward the can where it went in again, then stood and raised his arms to the thundering arena.
“I can’t believe it!” she said.
“I want hot food,” he said, standing. “I’m going to the cafeteria. Do you want to come with me?” Wishful thinking.
“Yes,” she replied. “Let me get my card.”
He was surprised. When not on call, he was always anxious to leave the building for the freedom of outdoors and home, presuming she would feel the same way. But choosing to eat in the hospital cafeteria?
She was in and out of the locker room in a flash. The elevator ride was spent ridiculing the three-point trash can shots.
By this time, they had been colleagues for several months, which necessitated close interaction on a work level. Man, she’s married! What a perfect face, what energy and drive, what a soft spirit, and what a sense of humor. She’s so pretty she’s a hazard.
Josh placed his tray on a small table in the middle of the dining room. She followed shortly from the condiment buffet.
“Did you choose to eat here in the cafeteria? I would have been out the door and long gone.”
“I’m tired. The food here isn’t wonderful, but it’s hot, it’s really cheap, and I don’t have to clean it up. Maybe I can get a run in before bed.”
“What about your husband? Is he not at home?”
“Not tonight,” she said. The expected further explanation didn’t come.
Josh said, “Where are your rings?”
“Jeez,” she said. “I left them in my locker when I scrubbed for the cesarean this afternoon. I forgot them. I try not to leave them in my locker because I’m afraid they could get stolen.”
“If I were you, I would leave them at home. Besides being stolen, they could wind up in the laundry, down a sink, or get damaged by our equipment. Been there, done that.”
“With a wedding ring?”
“No, but with a watch and an ID badge.”
“I don’t know what my husband would think.”
“I can’t believe that’s the reason. You seem way more independent than that.”
“If I don’t wear them,” she said, “men sometimes hit on me. It’s irritating when I am trying to get my work done.”
“Then get a cheap Walmart special and wear it. That way, if you lose it, you’re out ten bucks.” He pointed to his watch, “Four-dollar Walmart special.”
Doctors can eat a whole meal in five minutes. He said, “I have to get back to work.”
“I’m tired, so I’m going home.”
She joined him in the elevator. “I thought you were going home.”
“I want to get my rings out of my locker. It’s a good idea to leave them home.”
“I was thinking about Ann,” he said. “What do you think she’s doing here? Why do you think she came to Albuquerque?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s a unique character, in my mind. She’s bright, perceptive, and has energy. I have wondered why she isn’t in some big, high-powered program.”