“How's it going here? I haven't heard from you in weeks.” He popped his head around her office door as she put away her papers. He had the look of a large, cuddly teddy bear. He was tall and broad and warm, with ever tousled brown hair and big brown eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, he always looked rumpled. But Zoe knew he was brilliant with her patients. He was great with people of all ages and sizes, and he was the only relief doctor she trusted. “Don't you ever take a day off?” he asked, with a look of concern. His specialty was doing locum tenens for an interesting assortment of doctors. That meant he was a full-time “relief doctor,” with no practice of his own. This was what he did for a living. And he particularly enjoyed Zoe's practice. She ran a tight ship, and he thought she was a truly great physician, working in a nearly impossible field at the moment.
“I try not to take time off,” she said in answer to his question. “My patients don't like it.” Although they liked Sam, she felt an obligation not to let them down or desert them. She did rounds at the hospital, and visited them in their homes sometimes, even on Sundays, and Sam knew that.
“You need to take time off,” he scolded as he watched her take off her white coat and toss it in the laundry. “It's good for you, and besides,” he grinned at her, “I need the money.”
“I think I still owe you from last time, Sam. I've got a new bookkeeper and so far she's a disaster.” She smiled at him, he was always incredibly patient about payment. She had learned in medical school that he was from a wealthy family in the East and had independent means, but he never said anything about it, and nothing about him suggested ostentation. He drove a battered old car, wore simple clothes, mostly work shirts and jeans, and he wore an ancient pair of boots that he obviously loved and looked as though they'd been worn by ten thousand cowboys.
“Anything new around here?” he asked. He liked keeping up to date on her practice, so he wasn't flying completely blind whenever she asked him to take over. And the only time she did was when she was sick, or had a special event to go to. But she hadn't gone out much lately. She'd been too tired at night, and incredibly busy in the daytime, and she was just as happy to stay home with her baby. And when she went out on a date, which she did occasionally, she wore her beeper and took her own calls, and sometimes, if she had to, she walked out of a play, or left dinner even before she'd touched it. It didn't make her a very exciting date, but it made her one hell of a good doctor.
“Nothing much new.” She filled him in as she changed her shoes. “We seem to have a lot of new kids at the moment, young ones.” They had contracted AIDS during gestation, from their mothers.
“I'll take a look around after you're gone.” She never minded him looking at her files. She had no secrets from Sam. “Kiss Jade for me.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, and left the office. She took a quick look at her watch, it was one of those rare nights when she had a date, and knew she had to hurry. But it was already too late for that. It was six forty-five, and Richard Franklin was picking her up at seven-thirty. He was a well-known breast surgeon at UC, and they'd met two years before when they'd both been speaking at the same medical convention. And she'd been intrigued by the natural rivalry of their fields, he had been irked at the attention AIDS got in the press, citing the fact that more people died of breast cancer than AIDS, and the research funds should have been directed toward cancer. It had provided a lively argument for them, and a basis for an interesting friendship. And over the past two years, she'd gone out with him several times, especially lately. He was a brilliant man, and she enjoyed his company, and sometimes even more than that, but Richard Franklin was not the kind of man one fell in love with. There had been others in her life who had meant a great deal to her, but no one in a long time. The last man she had really cared about had died of AIDS from a blood transfusion ten years before, and that had been the beginning of her clinic when he left her all his money. There had been one or two special people since, but no one like him, and no one had ever made her want to get married. Certainly not Richard Franklin.
She drove home in her old Volkswagen van. She had bought it when she adopted Jade, and she often used it to help transport patients, and eventually she thought she'd use it for car pools. And she used it now to drive home as quickly as she could. She had bought a lovely old house on Edgewood, close to UC Hospital, near the forest. She went for walks in the woods there with Jade, and the view from her living room was spectacular. She had a clear view of the Golden Gate and the Marin Headlands. And as soon as she opened her front door, Jade let out a scream of excitement. “Mommy!” Zoe swept the little girl into her arms, and held her there, cuddling her, while Jade waved her arms and told her all about a dog and a rabbit and raisins and play group. It wasn't highly intelligible, but Zoe knew exactly what she was saying. “Babbit! Babbit!” she said, clapping her hands excitedly, and Zoe knew immediately that she had seen it at their neighbor's, “Mommy, Babbit!”
“I know. Maybe we'll get one, one of these days.” She set the toddler down in the kitchen then, and took a bite of her dinner. It was hamburger and rice, prepared by the Danish au pair, Inge. It wasn't fabulous, but it was wholesome, and Jade was brandishing a handful of raw carrots she had gnawed on, as Zoe hurried upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted to change as quickly as she could, and then come back to spend a few minutes with Jade before she went out with Dick Franklin. This was exactly why she hated going out at night. It gave her absolutely no time with her daughter. But her outings and dates were rare, just as her days off were.
She came downstairs twenty minutes later in a long black velvet skirt and a white lace blouse, she looked like an old family portrait, and her long red hair had been brushed and rebraided. She wore it in a long braided tail down her back, just as she had in college.
“Pitty Mama!” the little girl said, clapping her hands again, and Zoe smiled as she pulled her onto her lap. She was incredibly tired,