What Matters Most (7 page)

He called for a taxi and, to her astonishment, he kissed her lips before walking with her to the taxi. She didn’t look at him, but merely stumbled into the cab and listened dumbfounded while Jack gave the driver her address. She supposed he remembered it from the information she’d given him the day he’d hired her.

“Thanks,” she remembered to say as the taxi pulled away.

“You’re late again. Where’s the money?” her father called when she entered the house.

She didn’t run up the stairs like a scared rabbit as she usually did when he began one of his tirades, but walked into the living room and faced him. “I have always respected you as my father. Last night, you almost broke my shoulder. If you ever touch me again, you will regret it for as long as you live.”

He stared at her, his eyes wide in an expression of disbelief. “You got a mouth on you. I’ll close it for you.”

She didn’t move. “Don’t try it, Daddy. I’m not taking any more of your abuse. Good night.”

His demeanor seemed rigid, almost as if he were suspended in disbelief, as he seemed to decide whether to challenge her. For once, she didn’t fear him. It occurred to her that a man who would push a woman around was probably a coward. She walked into the kitchen and telephoned Jack.

“It’s all right,” she told him. “He began his usual harassment, but I called him on it, and he backed down. I won’t be at work tomorrow morning, because I’ll be renting that apartment.” After they talked for a few minutes, she hung up, made a sandwich and got a glass of milk, sat down and ate it. Then she went to her room, closed the door and began packing her things.

By noon the next day, she had the keys to a two-bedroom apartment. She phoned a company that promised to deliver a mattress within two hours, included some bed linen with her personal belongings, got a folding chair from the kitchen and telephoned for a taxi. She didn’t leave a message. “If he doesn’t know why, telling him won’t help,” she told herself. That night, she slept in her own apartment.

Melanie awakened the next morning, dressed and went shopping. With so little money, she could only buy kitchen essentials and food for the weekend. She found a pay phone and called Jack.

“Where are you?” he asked, and she hoped that his urgent tone reflected his concern for her, not as his nurse, but as a woman.

“I’m in the supermarket. I don’t have a phone yet, so—”

“What do you mean you don’t have a phone?”

“Sorry. I got ahead of myself. Late yesterday, I moved into my own apartment. It’s—”

“You what? With what? How?”

“With a taxi. I only have a mattress and a folding chair, Jack, but it’s mine. It’s quiet and peaceful, and I’m so happy I could cry.”

“Do you have money for furniture and other things you need?”

“Some. Monday, I’ll know how much of a salary advance I need.”

“Good. What’s your new address?” She told him. “Terrific,” he said. “Now go to this place and get a cell phone right now. I’ll call there and tell them you’re coming. Just give your name.”

“But I can’t let you—”

“I need to be in touch with my nurse.”

“I don’t think so, Jack.” She was already obligated to him, and she didn’t intend to get further in debt to him.

“Consider it partial pay for your overtime.”

She thought about it for a minute, and decided that it made sense. “All right. I can do that, and thanks so much for your help.”

“I haven’t done anything to earn your gratitude,” he countered. “Call me as soon as you figure out what you’ll need in order to get your apartment livable.”

“Okay. See you Tuesday.”

“Woman, let me tell you something. You and I can work together as professionals, and we’ll make a great team. But we will never again be who we were at ten minutes to nine Tuesday night, a minute before you pulled my tongue into your mouth,” he said in the voice of a person thoroughly exasperated. “And don’t you forget it. We’ll never be the same.”

At least
she
wouldn’t, and where did that leave her? Too annoyed with him to cover her tracks, she spoke from her heart. “What do you think I am, Jack, a piece of wood?” She didn’t heed his gasp. “I do not need to be reminded of the way I felt in your arms. Goodbye.”

Jack listened to the dial tone and slowly shook his head. He had no choice but to learn how to follow Melanie’s lead. And maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. The chemistry between them threatened to cause an explosion, and after that sample of her fire and passion for him, he knew they would eventually make love. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and because she was without guile and wasn’t coy, she either couldn’t hide what she felt or didn’t consider it.

He had spent too much time with women who pretended what they didn’t feel, said what they didn’t mean and behaved as if a man was their whole world when, in fact, an intelligent child could see right through their chicanery.

When his cell phone rang immediately after Melanie hung up, he answered without checking the caller ID.

Thinking he would hear Melanie’s voice, he said, “Did you call to apologize for hanging up on me?”

“What? Who do you think you’re talking to?” He recognized Elaine’s voice, closed his eyes and looked toward the ceiling. “What can I do for you, Elaine? I hope you didn’t call to chew me out about my second office, because—”

She interrupted him. “That and you’ve been avoiding me these past days. Can’t you find some other way to waste your time? Honest, Jack. This is too much.”

From honey to gall in one minute. He took a deep breath, hooked his foot under a chair to drag it closer to the table and took a seat. “Yes, Elaine, I agree that it’s too much. I’d rather not have this conversation with you over the phone, but since you brought it up, so be it. I am not wasting my time when I care for the sick. I took an oath to do that. I’ve been avoiding you while I figured out an easy, gracious way to tell you that I don’t want to see you anymore.” He ignored the sputters on the other end of the line. “It isn’t working for me. In fact, it never has. I wish you the best.”

“You can’t do this to me,” she screamed, “I won’t let you.”

“You made the mistake of behaving as if you own me. I don’t need to be possessed. I need to be loved, and you’re incapable of loving anyone but Elaine. We’re neither married not engaged, and I have never professed to love you. We were pretty good friends until you decided that my work is…I believe you said, ‘ridiculous.’ My work is who I am, and I do not need friends who tell me to my face that I’m ridiculous.”

“How can you say that? What will all our friends think?”

“You’ll eventually find another guy with a Porsche. Nothing you can say will change how I feel, Elaine. I’m sorry.”

He hung up, his relief almost palpable. Elaine Jackson represented a lesson that he did not expect to learn again. He hadn’t chosen her; she’d chosen him, and it had been convenient to associate with a woman who belonged to his social set, a legacy from his socially conscious father. More like his mother than his father, he had never judged people wholly on the basis of their material trappings. He had always known that his mother would have disliked Elaine, just as he knew she would have loved Melanie. The passing of seventeen years had not lessened his need for his mother’s counsel, understanding, warmth and affection.

The following week, after having performed a long and tedious operation on a man he had known for years, Jack met his father for their usual Wednesday lunch. He wanted to discuss the young girl in his South Baltimore office whose tests showed that she had sickle-cell anemia. His father would know the best course of treatment, but he didn’t feel like a lecture about his office in that neighborhood. So, their conversation centered on the banal. However, Jack knew his father would have a point to make, because he always spoke his mind when something wasn’t going his way.

“I got a call from Elaine last weekend,” Montague said. “She was completely distraught.”

Jack didn’t stop eating the raspberry sorbet that he loved. “Yeah. I can imagine. Discussing my personal affairs with my father is one of the reasons why she had reason to be distraught. The other reason is that I have never loved her. How could I? She’s too calculating and too possessive. Please don’t mention her to me again.”

Montague sipped his espresso, something he insisted on having after every meal except breakfast. “All right,” he said. “But you’re making a mistake. She’s a fine woman.”

Jack struggled to control his facial expression. He honored his father and didn’t want to appear rude. “You would want your son to spend his life with a woman he didn’t love? I don’t believe it.”

Montague threw up his hands. “Enough said. But it’s time you got married and started a family. I want some grandchildren.”

“Now, that I can agree with.” He looked at the bill and pushed it toward his father. “I paid last time.” They embraced at the front of the restaurant, and Jack leaned against the post that supported the restaurant’s canopy and watched his father get into his Cadillac De Ville and drive off. He’d swear that there wasn’t a speck of lint or dirt anywhere on that car, not even on the white walls of its tires. Montague Ferguson would sit on a Harley about as quickly as he’d jump into a seething volcano. Jack shook his head in wonder.
If I wasn’t the spitting image of him, I’d wonder about our blood ties.

He had an urge to get to his other office. It was unusual, he knew, because he’d never been consumed with a desire to get to his Bolton Hill office. But what the heck!

Having that second office added a new and exciting dimension to his life.
Go ahead and fool yourself,
his conscience needled.
You love the work, but it’s the woman who’s pulling you there right now.

He drove the Town Car to his office and, to his surprise, he found the space in front of his office blocked off at three-thirty in the afternoon. Two boys dashed over from nowhere and removed the orange cones.

“Hi, Doc,” they said in unison. “We don’t let nobody into your space.”

He thanked them, unlocked his office and went inside. She stood on a ladder changing a lightbulb. “Melanie, for goodness’ sake, what are you doing up there?” he asked her. “Couldn’t you wait till I got here?”

Her smile warmed him all over, and he admitted to himself again that she was the reason why he was there and not at the club, swimming.

“Hi. You’re early. If I don’t have light, I can’t see how to work, so I’m putting in some new lightbulbs.”

“That’s fine, but hop down. I’ll change the others.” He opened his arms. “Come on. I’ll catch you. Don’t you trust me?”

From the sudden tension in her shoulders, he guessed that she was about to be stubborn, and she proved him right. “I trust you implicitly, but I want to get some work done, and playing house with you won’t cut it. Besides, that’s not why we’re here.”

He knew he was getting to her, that she felt the heat of his body, that she was sensitive to him, and he meant to see how far he could go before she got her back up. She had some compunction about letting herself go with him, and that was probably wise, but he didn’t give her high odds for succeeding.

He grinned at her. “We wouldn’t be playing house. This isn’t the kind of house I play. Come on. You could work while I do that. My arms are wide open and I’m a strong guy, so don’t be afraid. I won’t hold you too close.”

As if she’d planned it—and he knew she hadn’t—her foot slipped, and he caught her. Whether she was embarrassed or merely disgusted, he wasn’t certain, but hard as he tried, he couldn’t control the laughter. He set her on her feet, stepped on the ladder and inserted the track lights.

“How’s your apartment coming?” he asked her.

“Wonderful. It’s livable, it’s mine and I’m the only one who lives there.”

He signed the checks she’d written to pay several bills and decided that he’d be wise to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her.

“Uh, Doctor. Midge’s mother has called here twice about her condition, and—”

He looked at her. “You didn’t want to bother me? Melanie, I’m that child’s doctor. Always let me know when a patient calls about something serious. Midge’s condition is very serious. What’s her address? Phone her mother and ask her if she wants me to go there and have a look at the child.”

He looked at the address that Melanie had written on the back of one of his cards. “How far away is this?”

“A little over two blocks. Midge’s mother wants you to come.” She gave him directions.

“I’ll walk. See you later.” He got two half-pint containers of ice cream from the freezer, left the office and covered the two short blocks in about five minutes. As he waited for Midge’s mother to answer the door, he wondered what he’d find. He had never entered the home of a really poor person, and when he walked into the small apartment—one of two on the first floor of what had once been a single-family home—he realized that its neat appearance surprised him.

He shook hands with Alice Hawkins and followed her to a sparse but tidy bedroom, where Midge lay in bed. He sat beside the bed, took the girl’s hand and smiled when she opened her eyes.

“How are you, Midge? Remember me? I’m Dr. Ferguson.”

“Hi, Doctor. Did you bring me any ice cream? In the office, you have ice cream.”

“Yes, I did. I remembered that you like raspberry. It’s my favorite, too. Where do you hurt?” She pointed to her chest, and he took out his stethoscope and examined her. “Does it hurt especially when you cough?”

“Yes, sir.”

He knew she had a fever, but he took her temperature nonetheless. “Well, Midge, I have to give you some medicine, and it comes in a needle. It didn’t hurt much the last time, did it?”

“No, sir, but can I have the ice cream first?”

“Absolutely.” He gave it to her and prepped her arm while her eyes gleamed in anticipation of enjoying her favorite treat. After giving Midge the antibiotic and taking her temperature, he gave the thermometer to her mother and showed her how to use it. “She’s at a hundred and one degrees. It should drop now. If it doesn’t, or if it climbs the slightest bit, call me.” He handed her his card. “We’ll have to work out a plan for her. In the meantime, give her two of these tablets every four hours and one of these vitamin compounds each morning at breakfast. If she’s feeling well enough, bring her to my office tomorrow during office hours.”