Don't Go (7 page)

But in the next second, Emily burst into tears, spitting out her pacifier.

Later, Danielle went upstairs with the baby, while Mike stood at the kitchen counter with Sara, having coffee. They’d tried for a half an hour to calm Emily down, to no avail, and Sara patted him on the back.

“Don’t worry, Mike. She was just tired. She woke up early from her nap.”

“Right, I know.” Mike wanted to talk about the vodka and understand why Chloe had been drinking, but he’d promised Bob to keep it a secret. “Sara, let me ask you, how was Chloe while I was away? Was she okay or what, emotionally?”

“She missed you, but she was happy with the baby.”

“Really?” Mike didn’t think it added up. “Could she have been depressed, like postpartum or anything?”

“No, not that.” Sara hesitated. “To be honest with you, she was having a tough time. I think being on her own, with such a new baby, was hard. It’s just the war, and the bad luck of the timing, with you being deployed when the baby was a newborn—” She stopped, abruptly, and Mike sensed she was protecting him.

“Tell me, Sara. I can handle it. She lived it, so the least I can do is hear about it.”

“But it’ll just make you feel bad.”

“It doesn’t matter how bad I feel, I want to understand. Tell me the truth.”

“You know it’s not your fault at all, you had to go, but I think it was hard on her, and it kind of caught her by surprise.” Sara’s face fell, her characteristic smile gone. “In the beginning, people dropped over from school, seeing the baby, saying hi, helping out, but then winter came on, and everybody got busy, and she was on her own. She worried about you all the time, watched TV news and checked online for the latest coverage of the war.”

“She never told me she worried.” Mike thought back to Chloe’s emails, which he practically had memorized. “Her emails are all upbeat and happy, about the baby.”

“She didn’t want to worry you.” Sara cocked her head. “I bet you did the same. You didn’t tell her when you were down or in danger, did you?”

“No, of course not.” Mike remembered editing his emails and Skype calls, because he couldn’t tell Chloe the truth. “I didn’t want to worry her, either.”

“That’s loving, really. She was trying to be brave, and I know she felt surprised at how hard it was, with a new baby. It’s like labor. If we knew how hard it was in advance, nobody would do it.” Sara smiled, sadly. “And just so you know, I was there a lot, checking on her and Emily. I only wish I’d been there that day, you know, the day she…”

“It’s okay, really.” Mike didn’t make her finish the sentence, and Sara swallowed hard, shaking her head slowly, with the bewilderment of grief.

“I know she felt alone, every new mother does, but she was so happy being an at-home mom.” Sara sniffled. “She told me, all the time. I saw it, and she was a born mother. Why do you ask?”

Mike couldn’t tell her, so he said the next thing that came to his mind. “I wonder if I can be as good a father.”

“Of course you can.”

“Can a father be as good as a mother?”

“Yes, Don is. He’s great with the boys.” Sara smiled, warmly. “It depends on the father. I hate to say it, but my father would not have been a good mother, but times were different back then. It was the generation when the father was happy to be the second-string, like an understudy.”

Mike had felt that way, with Chloe. She had been so good with Emily that he was happy being her second banana, like the general practitioner to her specialist.

“I know that your dad left when you were little, right?”

“Yes, I was ten.” Mike hated to go there. “I barely remember him.”

“But your mom was great.”

“Absolutely, the best.” Mike still missed her, though she’d been gone fifteen years. She died of breast cancer, and her bravery inspired him every day, even in Afghanistan. She would have been so proud to see him graduate from podiatry school and go on to serve.

“And you loved her, and you turned out great, so there’s proof. It’s not about gender, it’s all about love.” Sara touched his arm. “You can be a great father and you will be.”

Mike wished he were that sure. “If Emily were a boy, I’d have a better shot.”

“That doesn’t matter, either. Your mother was a woman who raised a great man. You’ll be a man who raises a great woman. You’ll see, it’ll come naturally, it did for Chloe. She was also the most nurturing person on the planet. Didn’t you think so? Didn’t she take great care of things? The kids at school? Her art, all of us?” Tears filmed Sara’s large, round eyes, again. “She made us all feel so loved, didn’t she?”

Mike swallowed, remembering. He felt bathed in Chloe. She had brought him love, light, and colors. And now, pain. “Sara, let me ask your opinion about something. Danielle offered to take care of Emily, until I come back.”

“I know. She already asked me what I thought about the idea.”

“Okay.” Mike went with the flow. These women had better intelligence than CENTCOM. “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s an awesome idea.” Sara showed a flicker of her typically cheery self. “Danielle loves Emily, and Emily loves her and Bob. I think it helps Emily to be with someone she loves, and they want to help.”

“Right, they are amazing.”

“I also think it’s better for you. You can finish your deployment and not worry. If it’s a stranger, you know you’re going to worry, and so are Danielle and Bob.” Sara opened her palms. “Besides, look at this house, and it’s even better to have her live here, so she’s not thinking about Chloe. If she’s home, she’ll be looking for Mommy. If she’s here, she expects Danielle.”

Mike felt a tug, wondering if Emily would forget Chloe. He knew it could happen, because Emily had forgotten him.

“What’s the matter?” Sara asked, frowning slightly.

“Nothing.” Mike couldn’t say it without getting emotional.

“So, what do you think about Emily staying here? It’s a no-brainer, right?” Sara shrugged. “What’s better than family?”

Chapter Twelve

Mike walked down the carpeted hallway to his office. He wanted to stop by, since his group partners had been emailing him about changes in the practice, and he could see immediately what they meant. The sign at the glass entrance read:

S
UBURBAN
F
OOT
& A
NKLE,
LLC, S
PECIALIZING IN
F
OOT
& A
NKLE
R
ECONSTRUCTION

D
R.
J
AMES D.
H
AGGERTY
, DPM, FACFAS

D
R.
A
NTHONY
M. M
AZZACARO
, DPM, FACFAS

D
R.
M
ICHAEL
J. S
CANLON
, DPM, FACFAS

D
R.
D
AVID
M. W
ATERMAN
, DPM, FACFAS

But underneath was an addition:

L
YON
& H
AGGERTY
, LLC, S
PORTS
M
EDICINE

D
R.
R
ICHARD
A. L
YON
, DPM, FACFAS

D
R.
J
AMES
D. H
AGGERTY
, DPM, FACFAS

Mike opened the door, which led to an entrance hall that had been redecorated, even since he’d deployed. The walls had been painted bright orange and plastered with felt banners from Lower Merion, Haverford, and Great Valley High Schools. Underneath was a yellow ribbon that read,
WE HONOR OUR ARMY RESERVIST, DR. MIKE! HOME SAFE SOON!

He walked through a new door into a reception area that had been completely reconfigured, almost half the size. The reception desk was still there, though he didn’t recognize the receptionist, a young girl with a ponytail. “May I help you?” she asked, looking up attentively.

“I’m Mike Scanlon.”

“And who do you have an appointment with today?” The receptionist started hitting keys on her keyboard, her attention shifting to the computer screen.

“I’m the Dr. Scanlon on the door. Call me Mike.”

“Oh no, sorry. Awkward!” The receptionist grimaced, giggled, and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m Julie Mura.”

“Hi, Julie. Are Jim or the others around, or in surgery?”

“Dr. Haggerty’s in. Let me get him or see if there’s somebody over there that can help you.”

“That’s okay, I know where I’m going.” Mike opened the door to the examining rooms, but he’d spoken too soon. The hallway used to lead to a circle of examining rooms, but only two were left, then there was a new wall, but he had no idea what was on the other side. The construction must have been recent because he could practically smell the drywall.

“Mike, is that you?” asked a voice behind him, and he turned around to see one of their nurses, Susie. “Mike, I’m so sorry about Chloe.”

“Thanks.” Mike gave her a brief hug, glad to see a familiar face. She looked like she’d lost weight, slimmer in scrubs covered with pink ribbons. “You got so skinny, didn’t you?”

“Thirty pounds off, thanks.” Susie released him with a teary smile. “I’ll be there tomorrow night, with everybody.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Mike didn’t want to dwell. “What’s going on here? Everything looks different.”

“I know, right? It’s a brave new world, now that we started with the sports. This is the great divide.” Susie patted the new wall. “I call it West Berlin, but the new people are too young to know what I’m talking about.”

“Where’s my office? Where are any of the doctors’ offices?”

“There’s only one office now, and you share it. We boxed up your things carefully, don’t worry, and you’ll have your own file cabinet.”

Mike shrugged it off. “I guess we don’t really need our offices, anyway.”

“That’s what Jim said, and did you see the child at the reception desk? Tanika moved to Cleveland, and Jim had to let Marilyn and Lorene go. Welcome to the recession.”

“That’s too bad.” Mike’s partners had written about the diminishing caseload, with patients putting off elective surgeries because of the economy. He’d still gotten his base share though he hadn’t known it came at the expense of the staff. “Where’s Jim?”

“Follow me.” Susie bustled ahead, and Mike fell into step beside her.

“How’s Tony and Dave?”

“Good. Tony’s in surgery, and Dave’s in with a patient.” Susie pressed through the wood door, and Mike slipped through behind her, surprised. The hallway emptied into a bustling space painted the same orange as the entrance hall and blanketed with team photographs. Susie rolled her eyes. “Smells like team spirit.”

“We have new staff here, too?” Mike asked, as nurses hurried in and out of examining rooms. One rolled past a new portable x-ray machine, which had to cost a fortune.

“Dr. Lyon brought a lot of his people.” Susie walked ahead. “Let’s find Jumbo.”

Suddenly the door to an examining room opened, and Jim stepped out, file in hand. He was a big blond bear of a man, in his late thirties, though his hair was thinning. His back was to Mike, and he was talking to his patients, a mom and a young son.

“Now stay off that foot, even though it’s in the cast, you got me? Go Aces!” Jim shut the door, turned around, and opened his arms when he spotted Mike. “Oh, buddy, you’re home. I’m so sorry about Chloe.”

“Thanks.” Mike hugged him back, trying not to choke up. They’d been in practice together for almost ten years, during which he and Chloe had become good friends with Jim and his wife, Laura.

“Laura’s been on the phone with Danielle. We can’t believe that Chloe’s gone. I got a second, want to talk?”

“Sure, thanks.” Mike felt his throat tighten. “If you’re busy, I get it.”

“No this is important, I want to see you. I got one case, then I get a break.” Jim opened the door of an empty examining room and motioned him inside. “Here. Be right back.”

Susie squeezed his arm. “Mike, I gotta get back to work. See you tomorrow. I’ll say a prayer for you and the baby.”

“Thanks.” Mike went in, shut the door behind him, and sat down across from the examining table. Posters of young runners and soccer players lined the wall, and opposite him were glossy brochures titled Cleat Selection, Running Shoes and You, and Orthotics Aren’t Those Things on Your Teeth. He tried to wrap his mind around the changes here. They didn’t need his permission under their partnership agreement to rearrange the offices, and Jim knew how to pinch a construction penny, coming from a working-class upbringing like Mike. Still he wondered what Tony and Dave thought of the new sports-medicine practice, since they’d ended up on the outs.

Jim burst into the room. “Sorry about that, Mike. The kid’s in X-ray so I’m good for a few minutes.”

“No worries.” Mike sat up, as Jim rolled over a stool, sat down, and looked at him with concern.

“So, I’m still in shock, man. How the hell are you doing?”

“Not so great.”

“I believe it.” Jim shook his head, stricken. “She’s gone, just like that. I don’t how you deal, I don’t know how I would. It must feel like the rug got taken out from under you.”

“And the baby, too.”

“Right.” Jim’s eyes flared. They were large and wide-set, a pale blue set against his fair, ruddy skin. “What are you going to do about the baby? Laura said Danielle and Bob want to take her.”

“They do, she just made the offer today. I think I’m saying yes.”

“Hell yeah, I’d take them up on it, no question. How you gonna find anybody better?” Jim talked fast, in the flat accent of Northeast Philly. “I couldn’t do half the things I’m doing here if I had to worry about childcare. You need that on autopilot. Otherwise, it’s a hassle, your turn to pick up, my turn to pick up, is the nanny sick, is the nanny doing drugs, having guys over, whatever. Who needs that? Don’t overthink it.”

Jim’s rap on Mike was that he thought too much, but Mike liked that in a surgeon. “Family is the short answer, isn’t it?”

“Sure, need us to help with anything? We’ll be there tomorrow night.” Jim raked a hand through his hair, then patted it down. “Bob was the one who called us and told us the news. Laura answered and got hysterical, of course. I would think somebody would hear Chloe calling for help, or that she’d come to in time to call 911.”