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The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of
Constant-C, NBC, Warner Brothers, etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no
money is made from it. The story contains graphic scenes and words which may offend some
readers, and as such, it is not appropriate for children under 18. This story is not to be
archived or distributed without the permission of the author.
Stories in the series can be found in chronological order at:
http://members.tripod.com/~maraldo/jordan.html
http://www.oocities.org/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/jordan.htm
http://members.tripod.com/~erfanfic/jordan.html
and at:
http://www.jsentertainment.com/gilbert/terffa/
Stories in the series:
A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of
an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity;
Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The
Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum;
Aftermath; Letters Never Sent
Thank you to the "Fab Five," the ladies who take the time to read my drafts and
deal with my obsession. Each of you contribute to the story in wonderful ways, and I want
you to know how much I appreciate your time and energy.
Letters Never Sent
by Jordan
jturner36@juno.com
What was it? A sense of stubbornness, of righteousness? A drive to follow their
self-inflicted, vague rules as closely as possible? Whatever it was, each party was
committed to it, neither quite understanding why.
Doug had come home again, briefly, the day after his interview. She walked into the house
in the evening after a long day at work and a trip to the grocery store and he was there,
packing up boxes and bringing them into the basement. She'd had no indication that he was
coming back so soon and stopped in the hallway, keys in hand, staring at him.
"Hey. How are you?" he asked as he put down a small box.
"Fine. I...you didn't call, I didn't know you'd be back."
He smiled weakly. "I worked out all the, uh, specifics of the job. I'm just, you
know, getting some stuff together...."
Carol nodded. "Is the job...is it everything you wanted?"
"It's good. Money is decent."
"Good. I'm just...." She waved her hand. "I've...I've gotta put these
groceries away."
"Sure. Good. Okay, I'll, um, I'm just putting this stuff in the basement. I thought I
could, you know, call someone to pick the boxes up once I find a place."
She took a deep breath. "Sure. When are you leaving again?"
"Tomorrow night."
"Oh." Her face fell. "Okay. You can leave the stuff here as long as you
need to until you find a new place."
"Great. Thanks."
And that was it. It's odd, she thought as she put the food away. No hugs, no kisses. No
happiness.
Things were so strained between them that the night was awkward. It was obvious he didn't
know where he should sleep and he was waiting for some signal from her. Getting none, he
walked toward the steps to go upstairs, but her voice stopped him mid-stride.
"Doug?" It was shaky, unsure.
He turned around. Oh, god, look at him, she thought. His face was gaunt, his eyes empty.
She swallowed hard and held out her hand. "Please...come to bed."
He stared. He almost didn't want to, didn't want to fool himself into believing that he
could take her into his heart again tonight and then just walk away. But, he decided, if
she was offering the opportunity to spend one more night with her, he would, and he'd bear
the hurt
that was sure to follow. He took her hand, went into the room with her then waited in bed
for her to return from the bathroom. It was that little side trip of hers that hurt him,
that made him doubt everything, and then he was afraid it would be the last time he'd ever
be intimate with her.
And so, he treasured her.
*****
After his final flight to Portland, he sent a brief e-mail to her. Strange, she would have
guessed he didn't know her hospital e-mail address. She printed it and stuffed it in her
purse.
*****
To: chathawa@cch.erm.org
From: drossmd@phmo.org
Re: Phone
Hey Curly,
Just wanted to let you know in case of emergencies or if you need something, I can be
reached at work at (503) 555-2000, ext. 218. My temporary home number is (503) 555-1961.
Thinking of you.
Love,
Doug
*****
That e-mail hung between them, the only communication they would have. So they walked
around at work, two zombies thousands of miles apart who vainly tried to convince
themselves that life would go on as usual, who smiled just as before so no one really knew
that within each of them they spent their days pretending to be alive, and spent their
nights composing letters to each other in their minds. Letters that were never sent.
*****
Dear Carol:
Well, I'm here. It's been an unbelievable few days. When I landed here again I felt
disoriented in a way, like I'd been brought here against my will. Does that make any sense
at all? Probably not. Anyway, the company sent a limo to meet me and there I was in the
back, half wanting to look outside at my new home, half wanting to close my eyes and be
back in Chicago.
Now that I'm working here, I've gotten going pretty quick. They need a protocol, which I'm
working on now, using the one I developed for County (yes, the one you helped me with).
They seem to be kinda clueless, which I guess is good. Then no one will know if I screw
up.
I have a nice office and share an administrative assistant with another guy who handles
all the P.R. I haven't really met anyone yet, people stop by to say hello, but you're
kinda holed up in the office all day, so it's hard to meet anyone.
For now, they've put me up in their corporate apartment. It's okay, has a balcony with a
view of the river and a king-sized bed. I'd need to search for awhile to find you in it,
if you were here with me. It'd be worth it, though, once I did.
So far I know that over the next few weeks, I'm heading out to Tulsa, L.A., and Seattle.
Doesn't leave much time for me to find a place of my own, but no one seems to be ready to
kick me out, either, so I guess I'm okay there for a while. Need to find a gym for ball,
haven't had the time yet. I'm already getting out of shape, I think.
I called the insurance company, they're still waiting for car parts and not sure what
they're going to do. Depending upon my schedule, if the car is repaired, I may just have
it brought here. Doesn't cost much, it'll save me time. If not, I'll take the check and
buy something different. I'll send for my stuff, too, when I find a place.
Anyway, that's the news. Hope you're doing okay. Thinking about you.
Love,
Doug
*****
Dear Doug:
You've been gone only a couple of days and it's so strange. I keep waiting for you to come
through the door again, keep expecting to see you at work. The clinic is up and running
again. It hurts, seeing the clinic I'd worked so hard for being run by someone else. It
was the first thing I've ever done, Doug, that I'm uniquely proud of. It's hard now to
give it over to Lynette. I'm still so angry.
I'm here, dealing with all the repercussions alone. I know I'm not fully recovered from
the lack of sleep that we both had, from the physical and emotional worry and pain caused
by Ricky's death, by your leaving. Physically, I'm a wreck. I'm tired, I'm irritable. Even
my cycle is screwed up. I'm crampy and I started spotting, just a bit, today and my period
isn't due for another week. Funny, I guess, how stress can affect your body, isn't it?
Anyway, I got your email, though I won't be responding. I do think it's best to keep our
distance for awhile, to see how things go. Even if it's hard, it's best that we both
adhere to it. At least for a while.
Hope you're okay.
Love,
Carol
*****
On her first day off in what seemed like forever to her, Carol was surprised to hear the
doorbell so early in the morning. She walked out of the kitchen and looked out the window
on her way to the door. There was a familiar truck outside; it belonged to Jay Fulton, the
guy who installed the drywall for them during their renovations. Carol answered the door.
"Hi, Jay. What are you doing here?"
"Morning, Carol, just here to start work."
Carol frowned. "What work?"
"Didn't Doug tell you? We made an appointment to start on that last bedroom upstairs.
Gee, musta made it like...I dunno, three, four weeks ago. He said it was all roughed in,
needed some drywall."
That bedroom. Carol had avoided even thinking about it, about how Doug had insisted they
start work on it, just in case they had a need for it sometime in the future. Doug, who
had never planned ahead for anything in his entire life, had believed she'd be pregnant
eventually and would need the room for a baby. She sighed thinking about it.
"He roughed it in last fall, but I thought I would...that we were waiting to do the
drywall." Carol shook her head. "I...I didn't know anything about it."
"Well, he called, I'm here. Can I get to work?"
"Sure. Sure, you want coffee first?"
"Always," he grinned. Jay followed Carol into the kitchen.
Carol got a cup out of the cabinet and poured coffee for Jay. "How's Donna
doing?"
Jay took the cup from her hand, nodding his thanks. "She's okay. Chemo is rough on
her, but I can, you know, be flexible with my schedule, be with her when she needs
it."
"I hope things turn out okay for her, Jay."
"Thanks. Doug at work?"
Carol looked down. She didn't answer for a moment, then said, "He's...in
Portland."
"Portland? What, some medical conference thing those doctors are always going
to?"
"No. No, he's taken a job out there."
"Oh, you guys moving? Getting the house ready to sell, huh?"
"No, really, we haven't made any decisions yet." Carol walked by the calendar.
Sure enough, Doug had written "Jay, 8 a.m." on the calendar. Damn, she'd had no
clue.
"Well, you guys have sure done some job on this place, that's for sure."
Carol nodded, looking around. "It's turning out great, isn't it?"
"Sure is. Well, I'm gonna get my stuff from the truck."
Carol watched him go and wondered how she could to afford to pay Jay now, with Doug gone.
*****
It didn't take long for traffic to increase past his office door. Word traveled quickly:
He was handsome, cordial, great eyes, nice body, killer voice. A few women in the office
compared notes and they found that he got no personal phone calls from Chicago, had no
wedding band, no pictures on his desk, no mention of any woman, past or present.
Even so, he deflected every pass, every hit, whether subtle or overt.
There was something surrounding him, something remote and untouchable, something they
couldn't quite figure out.
One evening he was working late, checking his e-mail for what seemed like the hundredth
time that day, looking in vain for even a cursory response from her that she'd gotten his
message. As usual, it was filled with company information, but nothing from her. A face
appeared at the door but he was so engrossed that he didn't look up until she spoke. She
was an attractive woman in her late thirties, with short brown hair and blue eyes.
"Hey, you the new guy?"
Doug smiled. "Hi, yeah, come in." He took his feet off the desk and stood up,
extending his hand. "Doug Ross."
"Yeah, I know." She took his hand, smiling back. "Beth Lasko, legal."
"Hi, Beth, nice to meet you. Wanna sit down? Here, hang on, let me move this
stuff." Doug grabbed a stack of file folders from the chair and placed them on the
floor. "I'm not really organized yet," he apologized.
"No problem, I know how it is. I just started three months ago." She sat down
and Doug walked back behind his desk and sat down as well.
"Really? Where are you from?"
"I left New York Hospital in November. Decided I wanted a change of pace, different
coast."
He nodded. "Do you miss New York?"
"Sometimes I do. Mostly I don't. It's nice out here, the winter hasn't been as harsh,
but when spring rolls around, I'll be able to tell you honestly." She smiled again.
"There was something about spring in Manhattan.. Taking a cab downtown on a Friday,
relaxing by the water, then hitting the Wall Street Bars and have fun watching the
"suits" bounce off you."
Doug shook his head, confused. "Suits?"
She laughed. "Wall Street types. How about you? Where are you from? Somewhere in the
Midwest, if I remember right."
"I was at County General Hospital in Chicago, opened a Pediatric E.R. there and then
this job came along, and it just sounded too good to pass up." Even Doug was
surprised at how easily the half-truth slid from his lips.
"Do you know anyone out here?"
"No." He chuckled. "I've only been here a week, you know, I've barely
unpacked yet."
"Where are you living?"
"I'm still in the corporate apartment. I'm gonna look this weekend, see what's out
there for rent."
"I lived there for a month, " she revealed. "It was okay. Nice bed,
huh?" He nodded in agreement. "I can give you some tips, if you want, help you
out," she offered.
"I may take you up on it. What I really need is a gym to play hoops."
"Oh, Chicago, right. Big Bulls fan?"
He grinned. "Was. Looking for a new team now."
"Not me, once a Knicks fan, always a Knicks fan."
"I wish I had your sense of loyalty," he said quietly.
"Well, I am loyal. And I belong to Gold's Gym, they have basketball there, if you're
interested."
Doug smiled. "Do you play?"
"No. My ex did, though."
"Divorced?"
"Yeah, for a year. Seems he had some action from the New Jersey side of the Hudson
that distracted him."
Doug shook his head. "Hard to believe he'd cheat on you. You're a beautiful
woman."
Beth shook her head, laughing. "Thanks. Unfortunately, looks have little to do with
keeping a man faithful. You could look like Cindy Crawford, but if the guy can't settle
down, you're doomed."
Doug looked away, considering this. Thinking that as beautiful and fetching as he'd found
Carol, he'd mistreated her, too, years ago. "I guess you're right."
"So, we're scheduled for Tulsa in a few days, huh?"
"Uh, yeah...you're going, too?" Doug was surprised.
"Yes, seems there's a contract problem in our facility there, they wanted me to run
interference for you when you go down to evaluate the need for a pediatric emergency room,
look at the census figures, staffing."
"Well, it's my first trip for the company, I'll kinda be flying by the seat of my
pants," he grinned.
"I doubt it. I read your protocol. It's sound."
"Thanks. You...going to L.A., too?"
"Nope. Just Tulsa."
"Oh. Okay."
Beth stood up. "Well, I'm heading out, I just wanted to say hi. Do you...are you
finished with your work, do you want to go out for a drink tonight? I can point you in the
direction of some nice areas to live."
Doug felt uncomfortable. "Um...you know, tonight's not good for me. I, uh, I'm really
kinda swamped here right now...."
She nodded, her body hugging the door frame.
"Another time?" he offered.
"Sure. Maybe in Tulsa. If you need anything before then, I'm right down the hall. See
you." Beth smiled and walked out the door.
He sat back down in his chair and turned to gaze out the window.
*****
Dear Doug:
I keep stumbling over your stuff, wondering how long it's going to be here. In a way, I
love that it's at the house. I go over to your side of the bed and sleep there sometimes,
like I did when you were here. It makes me realize how far away you are, though. Then I
get so sad.
Were you waiting for this? Did you expect it? Did we miss something along the way, some
sign that should have told us this would happen? Why did you do what you did?
I am so hurt, so angry here all alone. How could you leave me, Doug? You promised
we'd always be together, and here we are, so far apart.
Jay is upstairs right now, making walls in what was supposed to be a room for the baby
we'd planned for. When you were here, everything held promise. Now, with you gone, that
room is a reminder of what you've taken away from me.
Carol
*****
Jay worked until the late afternoon, and despite the trail of dust he left from the front
door to the stairs, she was pleased with the result. He and the two men who had come later
in the morning had nailed up all the drywall and he told her he'd come another day to tape
and spackle it.
Carol knew he was expecting payment and was a little embarrassed to broach the subject,
but she had no choice. "It looks great, Jay. Uh...do you think I can pay this
in...installments? I didn't know you were coming and I really wasn't
prepared...financially to pay you right now." She looked at him and waited anxiously
for his answer.
"Well, you can for the remainder, but there's not going to be much of a balance,
Carol. Doug paid for most of this already."
Carol was surprised. "Doug did? When?"
"I got a check from him last week."
"Last week?"
"Yeah, it'll cover probably all but maybe, I don't know, around $75.00 or so. You can
pay me when I'm done."
"I didn't know he'd paid for this already," she said, half smiling.
"Well, thanks, Jay. Um, I'm off next Wednesday, and then Saturday. When do you want
to come to tape?"
"Saturday sounds good. Donna's got to go in for chemo on Wednesday."
He gathered the rest of his materials and said goodbye before he walked out the door. In a
way she was glad that the guys had been at the house working. Made it seem less empty
somehow. But now, with the sun setting in the sky, the silence was acute. Carol looked
into the refrigerator for something to eat. Not much to be found there. She pulled out
some eggs, cheese, and butter and made herself an omelet, then ate alone at the kitchen
table, across from his chair.
His chair. His side of the bed. His whole life in boxes in the basement. His fingers, his
mouth, his skin all over her body that one last night. His quiet hurt exuding from every
part of him. His emotion welling up inside of him afterward when he thought she didn't
see.
Everything was in a state of suspension, waiting for the final decision to be made,
waiting for...for what? For her to decide she didn't want him anymore? For him to move on
to another relationship? For the day to come when they would fall out of love with each
other? That day wouldn't come, she was sure of that. There had been a time in the past
when she'd waited for him to tire of her, to begin flirting, for the lies to start again,
but it never happened. She knew now that it never would happen. Doug hadn't even glanced
twice at another woman, and she knew he loved her completely. She knew, too, that she
would never stop loving him.
So, would they finally end it? How would they resolve things? She was unwilling to leave
Chicago to be with him. He had angered her tremendously with his careless actions, with
his inability to look past himself to see how what he did hurt other people. How he'd hurt
her.
Carol guessed that they were both waiting to see how it was to be apart from each other,
to see how well they would live without each other and the final decision never would be
made: It would just happen. Neither of them would take the first step to end it. Their
relationship would just...whither away; it would atrophy by virtue of their separation,
their inability to decide one way or the other.
But never from a lack of love.
At times she was melancholy, thinking it was her own stubbornness rising up against him.
After all, she'd tell herself, she really could have given it a try, maybe taken a leave
of absence from work to look around out there. And then, just when she was ready to
chastise herself, her pride and sense of what was right and just would flare and she would
be furious with him, angry that he'd forced this, that he'd left her, once again selfishly
thinking of himself. Selfish as usual.
Carol pushed herself away from the table and washed her dishes and the frying pan. She
paused briefly as she had an image of Doug using this same pan just weeks ago, after the
impromptu birthday party she had held for him. She had gotten a cake and the fixings to
make tacos and had invited Mark over. "Just a small, private celebration," she'd
explained. They sat in the kitchen drinking a copious amount of beer, watching Doug make
tacos, singing to the oldies station. Doug had abruptly turned around when one song came
on, and he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Excuse me, Mark. I need to borrow Carol for a minute," he announced.
He took her in his arms to dance and sang "Brown Eyed Girl" right along with Van
Morrison, dipping her, raising his eyebrows suggestively when he sang, "my, how you
have grown!" then twirled her around until she was breathless from laughter. Mark
smiled, too, watching the two of them dance in the tiny kitchen, cheering Doug on, joining
in on the "shalalala" part until the three of them were hysterical. Doug was
silly and carefree that night, holding her close to him, kissing her deeply after the song
was over until she protested and Mark groaned his embarrassment. He'd been deliriously
happy that night.
My god, she thought, that was another life ago.
*****
He worked 14 hours a day just to avoid going home to nothing. Alone in his borrowed
apartment, he alternately paced and flopped on the bed. He was not used to having so much
free time. At home -- at Carol's -- they were always busy doing something, fixing,
painting, staining, choosing rugs and paint colors, transforming her house into a
beautiful, warm place. He missed it, missed the satisfaction of putting his mark on her
home, her life.
*****
Carol had almost pulled it off, almost avoided talking about Doug during her first week
without him. She went through the motions, moving from task to task quickly, checking over
staff coverage, popping in the clinic to help Lynette. It was Lydia who snagged her,
finally, who saw beyond the steely exterior to the vacuous expression she'd tried
desperately to hide.
"Carol, how about a cup of coffee?" Lydia offered.
She smiled. "No, thanks, I have a lot to do."
"No way," Lydia insisted. "You're coming with me anyway. You can use a few
minutes, and the ER can spare you, too."
"Aw, not now...."
"Let's go."
They walked down to the cafeteria and Lydia insisted on paying for her coffee. They found
a table far away from anyone and sat across from each other.
"How are you doing, Carol?"
"I'm fine. No sleep, constant headaches. Stress." She looked away. "I'm
fine."
Lydia leaned forward. "Are you okay without him?"
Carol tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't even know. It's different, having him
gone. Nothing's the same. Every time I hear a noise at home, I think it's him coming
through the front door." Carol got teary and Lydia patted her hand.
"Have you heard from him?"
"I got an email, he wanted to make sure I could reach him. That's all."
Lydia asked, "Is this what you want?"
"Lydia...if I knew what I wanted, I could be at peace. I have no idea what to do. I'm
glad I'm here, I am. My job, my friends are important to me. And, honestly...I am so angry
at him for letting all this happen. We decided not to talk for a while."
Lydia raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Carol asked, exasperated.
"Just seems to me that you're letting him slip through your fingers too fast,
Carol."
Carol looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
Lydia sighed. "I mean...be sure you're willing to give him up before it becomes
reality. I know all about missed opportunities, relationships that end because two people
are too stubborn to sit down and really talk. You know, there's usually a compromise that
can be made. The most important thing is that he loves you, Carol. Don't forget
that."
Carol lowered her lashes, finally allowing her tears to fall. "How could I forget it,
Lydia? I love him, too."
*****
Dear Doug:
It's difficult at work right now. Kerry is bitter and angry, barely gives me the time of
day. Romano is a jerk, as is Anspaugh. Lynette is trying the best she can, but I'm still
doing things for the clinic. Mark has been helpful, a real friend right now, and I'm
grateful for it. When all is said and done, in a way, believe it or not, it's kind of nice
pulling my shift, taking care of the nurses and going home, leaving the bigger headaches
to someone else.
Jeanie is recovering slowly. I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but in a way you
may have saved her life with that accident. She hadn't been feeling well, but didn't
pursue it, maybe for fear that it was HIV becoming AIDS. In any event, she doesn't look
well, either, but her face has healed quite nicely. For all that Peter bitches about
plastic surgeons and their fluff specialty, he did a great job on her face.
Hope you're settling in okay. You've been on my mind.
Love,
Carol
*****
Doug got ready for his Tulsa trip and he and Beth left from the office to go to the
airport. They missed their late afternoon meeting, arriving in Tulsa 5 hours late due to a
snowstorm, going directly to the hotel.
They had adjoining rooms with a small office suite between them and Beth looked over to
him as she slid her card through the door to unlock it. "Looks like there's no
going out for dinner tonight, do you want to order up room service and go over those
figures they faxed?"
He shrugged. "I don't mind going downstairs, having a bite to eat in the
restaurant."
"You know, my head is pounding, would it be okay if we just eat up here
tonight?"
Doug thought it over. "Oh, okay. That's okay."
"I'll knock when I'm ready," she added, and walked into her room.
Doug entered the room and hung up his suit carrier in the closet, then walked to the
bathroom and washed his face. He changed from his suit into a pair of faded jeans and a
denim shirt. He heard a knock on the door that separated his room from the office and
yelled, "C'mon in!"
"It's locked, open up!" she responded.
Doug wiped his face and walked to the door. He opened it and Beth was carrying two beers
and a menu. "Good woman, thanks," he grinned as he took the beer.
"I like a well-stocked bar," she said and walked back into the office, sitting
in one of the two easy chairs. "Well, it looks like you can order up about anything
what you want."
Doug followed her in. "They got any ribs?"
"No ribs," she said, shaking her head.
"Not everything, then," he corrected her, smiling.
"Oh, hell, you look," she complained good-naturedly, and tossed the menu to him.
He decided on a mushroom burger with steak fries while she ordered a chef's salad. Doug
looked at her for the first time while she made the call to room service. She was wearing
a tight-fitting green sweater that came just to the top of her equally tight-fitting
jeans. Her hair was perfectly coifed but she'd washed her make-up off, which impressed
him. So few women would do that, he thought. She was pretty even without her make-up and
was so casual and self-assured that he didn't quite know how to act around her. So, he
figured he'd just be himself.
They looked over financial and census reports until their meals arrived. She got up and
answered the door, brought the food back and they delved into the paperwork again, finally
taking a break around 9 p.m. Doug stretched and rubbed his neck, trying to work out a
kink.
"What's the matter, neck sore?" Beth asked.
"A little. I forgot to take ibuprofen. At my age, I should know better than to leave
home without it."
"I'm sure I have some, hang on." Beth disappeared into her room, returning a
moment later with a bottle in her hand. She tossed it over to him and he caught it
one-handed.
"Thanks." Doug opened the bottle, tapping it until four tablets spilled out.
"Wow, some sore neck, huh?"
Doug smiled. "I'm a doctor, I know what's safe and what isn't. Every once in a while,
this is okay. Too much can lead to gastritis and ulcers." Doug swallowed the pills,
chasing it with his beer.
"Advil and beer?"
"Trust me," he said and reached his hand back to rub his neck again. "Damn,
I shouldn't have fallen asleep on the plane."
"Sorry, next time I'll nudge you," Beth laughed. "Here, why don't you let
me?" She walked over and put her hands on his neck.
Doug stiffened imperceptibly. "You know, I'll be okay...." he began.
"Nonsense. Even though I'm not a doctor, I know a thing or two about a stiff
neck." Beth put her hands on either side of his neck and worked her way down.
"Here it is, " she said, and then pressed down with her thumb right above a knot
where his neck met his shoulder. Doug howled. "What a big baby," Beth
said, chastising him. "Relax, this'll break up the lactic acid, make you feel like a
million bucks in a minute." She didn't let up, but continued pressing until he
thought he couldn't stand the pain anymore, and then slowly, the pain began to dissipate
and he began moving his neck from side to side.
Doug asked, "How'd you learn this?"
"Years of commuting to Manhattan. Stress, strain. You learn." Doug grinned. She
was as no-nonsense and straightforward a woman as he'd ever met and he was enjoying her
company. "Okay," she ventured, "now you've endured the pain, here comes the
pleasure." Her hands worked up and down his neck, finding every sore spot, relieving
the ache. While her hands were soft, they were quite strong, her strokes were deep. He
closed his eyes and growled his appreciation.
"Oh, man, do you rent those hands?" he teased her.
"No rent, it's a long-term lease with lots of fine print," she countered.
"Oh, yes, I forgot, you're a lawyer," he said. "A doctor's worst
nightmare."
"I wouldn't go quite that far," she said as her hands continued to relieve his
tension. "Ever get sued?"
"Amazingly, no," Doug said, wondering what she would think of his near-miss
attempted murder charges.
"Good. Sullies a reputation, even if you settle," she advised.
"Thanks, I'll remember that. Tired yet?"
"Nope. You?"
"I'm putty in your hands. I'm just praying I don't have to reciprocate, I'll never
live up to your standards," Doug quipped.
"Few do," she answered and bent over to look at him. "Don't even try."
He caught a faint whiff of her perfume. "Hmm. Is that a challenge?" he asked
slyly.
"Not even close, lightweight," she retorted as she lightened up her touch,
working down his shoulders and then back up his neck.
Doug closed his eyes again just as Beth was finishing. "Either the ibuprofen is
working incredibly fast or you've cured me."
"Never leave to medicine what a pair of good hands can provide, Doctor. So, am I to
understand that you're perennially the receiver, not the giver of a good massage?"
Beth asked as she took her seat.
"No. No. I actually like to do...you know, give them." He thought about Carol,
her silken skin, how she'd relax under his hands.
"The Body Shop has some great massage oils, I have a ton of them. Smell great, feel
good on you."
"I have some in Chicago," he said.
"Why are they there and you're here?" she asked.
Doug chucked softly. "It's kinda a long story."
Beth took another swig of her beer. "Is there someone special back home?"
Doug bowed his head. "There is."
Beth looked at him side-ways through her lashes. "Okay, I gotta know: The hot rumor
is you're gay. Are you?"
His head flew up. "What?"
"Around the office. They say you're good looking, not married, and no woman has
called you from Chicago or anywhere else, so you must be gay."
He looked at her blankly. "You're kidding."
Beth rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like I'd make this up. C'mon, Doug!"
"Well, who can I sue?" he asked playfully. Doug smiled, then laughed thinking
about the absurdity of it all, about how his former coworkers would react, hearing this.
"No. I'm not gay."
"They'll be relieved to know," Beth advised him. "Of course, once I let the
word out, you'll be fair game again."
"Well, I can do without that for now."
"Tell me about it."
"Why, you get hit on at work?"
"Not so much in the office, but out in the hospitals, yeah. I guess I have that
"lonely divorced woman" look about me, and guys'll hit on you, whether they're
married or not."
"Have you started...dating again?" he asked her.
She nodded her head. He noted a brief flash of sadness and then she lowered her eyes and
began blinking back tears.
Oh, hell, Doug thought, why does this have to happen with me? "I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to...."
"No, no, it's just me, I'm an idiot about this." She got up and walked into his
bathroom and came out with a tissue. "I've gone on lots of dates, but I really
haven't hit it off with anyone. I guess I'm not quite over him. I get this way sometimes,
don't mind me," she said, trying to deflect her embarrassment.
"No, I shouldn't have asked." He felt helpless.
She blew her nose. "I'm an idiot. Pining away for someone who doesn't want me, who
forgot about me long ago, who has a new girlfriend half his age with huge tits and a waist
as big around as my wrist."
"Beth, don't say that. You're a beautiful woman." He smiled warmly.
She gratefully returned the smile. "Thanks. You're sweet." She took a deep
breath to calm herself. "I hadn't even looked at another man for 14 years. Even after
the divorce, it seems strange to do it. As lousy as Glenn was, no one could melt my heart
like he did. I want to move on, I do. It's just gonna take time. He's the only man I'd
ever been with physically, the only man I've ever loved."
Doug nodded, but remained quiet.
"How about you? You serious with this guy back home?" she teased, trying to
lighten the mood.
He chuckled at her humor and looked down, playing with his beer bottle. "I don't even
know what we're doing," he answered honestly. "When I figure it out, I'll let
you know." He raised his eyes to her, and she saw hurt there she'd not noticed
before. Beth nodded slowly.
And he found that for some reason he was uncomfortable holding her gaze and was relieved
when they called it a night.
*****
Dear Carol,
Hey, sweetheart. I had a dream about you last night. It was like a gift. You know, I think
about you all day long, but last night was the first time I've actually dreamt of you
since I left. It was exquisite. You were on top of me, making love to me the way only you
can, and I could feel the soft sweetness of you surrounding me, your body moving up and
down, listened to you moan with pleasure. I had your breasts in my hands when you came,
your face was beautiful. You know how I love to watch your face when you come, Carol. Your
hair was wild, the way I like it. You cried out for me, you called my name again and
again, and that made me happy. It made me feel like you still wanted me, still needed me.
You've made me so happy. The dream was wonderful, I feel grateful for it.
And then, Carol, I woke up. I knew you wouldn't be in my arms, but you know, part of me
wanted to fall back to sleep and put you there. I miss you. I would give anything for one
more night alone with you. I hate not being able to call you, I hate not seeing you every
day. I hate it, Carol.
Please come to me.
Doug
*****
Carol walked up the stairs when she came home to look around the room again. It looked
funny, different all boxed in with drywall. Boxed in. Just like Doug made her feel
sometimes, like she had to make a choice within his guidelines, around his agenda. As she
was walking out, she noticed that Jay and his men had dragged the cedar chest into the
hallway. She thought again about the note Doug had left in her journal.
*****
Dear Doug:
There's something I have to ask you about, that I've been wondering about.
When I came home the first time you left, I saw that you had written something in my
journal. I guess I never told you about the journal; it's old and I hadn't used it in so
long. I used to write things in it that I couldn't talk about with anyone.
Before you left, I wrote some harsh things in it out of anger and hurt. And,
probably, fear. Did you read my journal before you wrote your message to me? It's
important that I know.
Please let me know.
Love,
Carol
*****
Trudging back down the stairs, she decided to switch on the TV, clicking through channel
after channel, finding nothing to entertain herself. She got her novel, the same
book she had started reading when Doug was still around, and tried once again to immerse
herself in it, but that, too, only lasted a few minutes.
She started to search through the video cabinet, thinking that maybe she'd watch "The
Joy Luck Club" again, without Doug's snide comments about chick flicks. While she
looked through the cabinet, she stopped abruptly and stared. The video they'd made
together last year, where they'd taped themselves making love, was at the bottom of the
pile, Doug's handwriting on the label. She'd laughed out loud back then when she saw what
he'd written: "Carol and Doug's Excellent Adventure."
Carol paused, not sure if she was ready to see this again after such a long time, not sure
if she wanted to hear his voice. But she needed to. She inserted the tape, turned on the
VCR, and pressed play, immediately realizing that he must have watched the tape at some
point by himself. The last time she saw it was when they'd snuggled on the couch
watching it together. She always rewound any videotape after she was through, carefully
making sure it was ready for the next viewing, but Doug never did. The "excellent
adventure" tape started up somewhere after the beginning.
He was kissing her neck, holding her gently, whispering something in her ear that made her
laugh deeply. As Carol watched, she remembered that he'd said then that she needed a new
name now that she was a porn star, and called her Carol "Have-your-way-with-me"
instead of Hathaway. He'd laughed, too, and Carol loved hearing his chuckle, even if it
was only on the video.
Carol reached behind her to pull the afghan around her as she watched herself in Doug's
arms. He had taken his shirt off and was tugging at hers as he kissed her, coaxing her up
on her knees. It came off and he flung it aside, then held her to him as his hands stroked
up and down her back, coming to rest above her panties, pulling them over her bottom,
letting his hands rest on her.
"Wait until you see how beautiful you are, Carol," he murmured. She kissed him,
then began yanking his boxers off, wanting him naked as well.
Carol watched, becoming aroused at the sight of them together, her own hand crept between
her legs as she waited to see their lovemaking, the image of his hands pulling her close
to him sending pangs of desire through her.
"Don't hold back tonight," she heard herself say.
"Why?" he asked, smiling.
"Because I want to feel all of you." Her kiss became almost rough, her arms
encircled him and they tumbled back on the bed, hands roaming, bodies pressing against
each other. She moved on top of him and stroked his hair as her lips tickled his face,
making his mouth open and search for hers. She evaded him, though, and brushed against his
strong jaw, away from the roughness of his face to the softer skin of his neck. He smelled
so good right there, she breathed him in and nipped the tender flesh with her teeth,
making him groan. To his shoulder next, across the sparse hair on his chest down to his
brown nipple, her tongue alternated with her lips and teeth, each leaving goose bumps
behind, each causing his erection to grow. She brushed against it deliberately, feeling
the lubrication already forming on the tip, making him ache for more complete contact. His
belly tightened as her hair swept across it and he strained to reach her mouth, but she
moved quickly past and her lips and hands teased his inner thighs. She gently nudged his
balls, making them retreat into his body.
"Go down on me, Carol."
Her tongue tentatively reached out for him and she grinned as she saw his anticipation
mounting. She started down at the base and ever so slowly drew her tongue up the length of
him, stopping to suck gently just below the head. He pressed himself against her lips and
his hands reached down to play with her hair, to encourage her to continue.
"Suck it," he said, and she then complied, taking all of him into her mouth,
applying pressure with her lips as her tongue pranced over him. Her hands tickled
his scrotum and he felt he would come then and there, but she once again stopped,
frustrating him, prolonging his pleasure.
"Equal time, Doug," she said, and she drew her body over his, letting her
breasts hang down in his face. Like a starved man, he reached for them, burying his face
between them, moving back and forth to suck each tip into his mouth tenderly, letting her
alternate as her desire dictated, as she pleased. His erection made brief contact against
her wetness and Doug groaned again, feeling so close, wanting her so fervently. His hand
reached out and he tugged on her clitoris with his middle and index fingers, elongating it
ever so slightly, making her moan. She fell back onto the bed and it was Doug's turn to
play. He took her breasts in his hands and squeezed gently, watching her nipples between
his fingers, pulling on each one separately before lowering his mouth to them and licking
slow circles around each, making them harden, stroking them with his lower lip. He kissed
the underside of each breast and rambled leisurely atop her body, stopping at her navel to
dip his tongue into it, them blazing a trail down to the curly locks of hair between her
legs.
"Oh, please...." she breathed, and he complied, loving this part of their
affection for each other. With the pointed tip of his tongue, he parted her quivering
inner lips and licked upwards, making her body heave when it came upon the sensitive glans
of her clitoris. His mouth then sucked it inward and he set a gentle rhythm that her hips
followed. One hand cupped her bottom so he could press her mound into his mouth, the other
reached up and gently twisted her firm nipple, causing her to cry forth for the merciful
ending to his delicious, passionate onslaught. As she climaxed, his hand replaced his
mouth and he nestled between her legs, sinking deeply into her, making her body shake
uncontrollably.
"You are so drenched, Carol. Let me in deeper." He was sitting on his heels, his
body upright, her legs draped over his thighs, and he held her hips in his hands as he
plunged in and out of her.
Carol, sitting on the couch, watching the video breathlessly, was close to climaxing by
her own hand as she gazed at him pushing himself into her. But something about their
lovemaking was different. Something was missing. Then, she knew; he wasn't telling her
that he loved her. They'd played with the video camera well before he'd confessed
his true feelings for her, before either one of them was brave enough to say those
words. Even so, Carol realized it was there, it surrounded him, it was all over his face,
in the words he was murmuring.
"You are precious, you know it? You feel so good to me."
"Enjoying yourself?" she'd asked suggestively.
"Always." He quickened his pace.
"You going to share this tape with your basketball buddies?" she teased him,
stroking his thighs.
"I share you with no one, Carol. I'd brand you with my mouth if I could just to keep
you for myself." And with that, he fell on top of her and assaulted her neck, his
kisses were almost coarse against her delicate skin. Then she heard him, felt him, knew he
was coming, and she saw his face take on an almost tortured look, letting her know the
depth of pleasure she'd created for him. He pushed as far inside of her as he could, his
head fell onto her as he sighed in rhythm with his body movement.
Upon seeing the image of his orgasm, his helplessness inside of her, Carol lost control
and she came as her fingers stroked furiously between her legs. Her cries of release
however, fell upon no lover's ears that night.
Carol opened her eyes and saw that they'd cuddled up to each other by this time, they were
both too lazy to get up afterwards, and so the camera ran on.. It captured their after
play as well, his soft, tender strokes upon her back, the way she nuzzled his neck with
her face. The tape ran out as they fell asleep, his arm wrapped protectively around her
waist. Carol rewound it to the beginning. She turned it on again, remembering their
discussion from that night, wanting to hear his voice as they had talked.
"You did all this for me?"
"I'd do anything for you."
Carol paused it and rewound it again, needing to hear those words from him, wishing they
were true enough to bring him back to her.
*****
Dear Carol,
I was thinking about something the other day. You might not know I left a message in your
notebook. Before you get pissed off at me I need to tell you what happened.
I saw you writing in it the night I came home after talking to Mary, I knew it was your
journal, the one that you keep in the chest upstairs. You see, I saw the notebook when I
opened the chest a few months ago or so, right before we started roughing in the second
bedroom upstairs. But I want you to know that when I figured out what it was, I
never read any of your private thoughts. I didn't want to intrude. Didn't want to read
anything you hadn't asked me to.
When I was getting ready to go to Portland, I wanted to leave you a note, say something,
and when I saw that journal out on your night stand, I just turned the pages until I found
your last entry and wrote something at the bottom of the page. I'm worried now that you
never did read it. I really wanted you to read it.
Sorry, though, if I gave the impression that I'd eavesdropped on your privacy. I would
never do that, Carol.
Doug
*****
He missed her terribly. Alone in his bed with no warmth next to him, no one to pull toward
him, no soft breasts pressing against his back, no roaming hand tickling his chest. No
Carol.
Nothing.
*****
She rewound the tape and placed it back into the box. As she went to put it back, she
remembered the other tape, one Doug had made the next evening, right before he returned
the equipment. He'd grabbed another blank videotape, moved the camera and put the tape in.
He grinned at her then and enticed her to bed.
"Oh, Doug, not again! Once in a lifetime is enough, don't you think?" she'd
complained.
"No, no, this is different," he insisted.
"Like, different how? Are we inviting our friends over to participate? The dog down
the street?" she asked sarcastically.
"No," he laughed. "It's just going to be different. Lay down, you'll see
later."
Carol reluctantly obliged and laid back, waiting for him. Doug focused the camera and
walked to the bed, his eyes full of purpose.
"This one is for me, Carol."
She hadn't realized until later what he'd done, and when she found out, she was touched.
Astounded. Doug had focused solely on her face; he later told her that she was his
fantasy, and that he'd always wanted to just watch her face while he pleased her, while he
made her come.
Carol searched through the cabinet, looking through every box twice, but then realized
that the video simply marked "Carol" was gone.
*****
Dear Carol:
I think maybe I've made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving you behind.
All my love,
Doug
*****
Dear Doug:
Sometimes I think I was wrong to let you go alone.
Love always,
Carol
*****
Doug awoke, showered and dressed, then met Beth in the lobby for breakfast. They were
ready to assess the hospital, to pitch the idea of a pediatric E.R., and discussed the
general flow of their presentation on the way over. They arrived and were greeted by
Marika Havanshaw, E.R. attending; John Wilkens, head of pediatrics; and a host of other
doctors and administrators. After brief introductions, they were ushered into a conference
room where Doug gave his first presentation, explaining the function and structure of
pediatric emergency rooms, and the company's protocol for assessing the need on a
hospital-by-hospital basis. Doug spent a little more than a half-hour answering questions.
He caught Beth's eye several times during the presentation and she smiled her
approval, finally giving him a "thumb's up" when he was finished.
Drs. Havanshaw and Wilkens gave them a cursory tour of the E.R. and the hospital, and Doug
asked a lot of questions and took notes throughout. When they arrived at the fifth floor
neonatal unit, the doctors excused themselves to attend another meeting, leaving Beth and
Doug alone. Beth was astounded at the small size of the babies, and was particularly
intrigued with one, off in the corner.
"What's going on here, Doug?" she asked as she walked over to the isolette.
"You worked in a hospital, didn't you learn anything, Beth?" Doug chided her
playfully.
She made a face at him. "I was in the legal department, we didn't generally roam the
floors. We let risk management do all the leg work, chart review ."
"It's pretty common, really. This baby's jaundiced, she's undergoing phototherapy,
it's...fluorescent lights to help her body break down the bilirubin faster. The lights
change the bilirubin, make it easier to excrete it in the urine."
"Why is she wearing these space-aged goggles?"
"Protects her eyes."
"What would happen if they didn't do this?"
"Too much bilirubin can be toxic to the brain," he answered. The baby started
fussing and he gently laid his hand on her bare back, rocking her body gently.
"What did they do years ago when a baby had a high bilirubin count?"
"Well, the pediatrician would tell the mother to put the baby in the sunshine. Some
still do. Does the same thing. Some doctors send the lights home to reduce the amount of
time the baby has to stay in the hospital. You also encourage frequent feedings to help
things move along."
She noticed that he hadn't taken his eyes off the baby. "Wow. Such tiny little
things. It's amazing, isn't it?"
"Always."
"I guess this is nothing new to you, all these babies."
"I see...I saw...my fair share of babies, yes." The baby's grunts of discomfort
had turned into impatient cries. Doug picked up the pacifier and stroked her cheek.
"Here you go, darlin', will this help?" She turned her head automatically toward
the pacifier and he held it there for a moment until she had a good grip on it and began
sucking vigorously.
"How'd she know to do that?"
"It's the rooting reflex," Doug explained. "Babies are designed to find
their mother's nipple, or a nipple on a bottle. If the mother is breast feeding and she
brushes the baby's cheek with her nipple, the baby turns toward the stimulus and latches
on to nurse."
"What do you advocate, breast or formula?"
Doug chuckled. "There's a saying 'breast is best' and that's what I'd
recommend."
Beth nodded, reaching a tentative finger, touching the baby's hair. "Oh. So
soft."
"It's...about the softest thing on Earth, really." He was becoming quieter, she
noticed.
"Do you ever want kids of your own, Doug?"
"Sure. One day." She couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were soft, his
face had an almost fragile look to it. He was miles away, she knew.
"Ready to go to lunch?" she asked.
Doug reluctantly took his hand off the baby girl. "Yep, I'm hungry. Let's see what
they serve around here."
They ate lunch quickly, needing to get back to the E.R. and on with their evaluation. Doug
was quite at ease there and asked and answered numerous questions. She felt like a fifth
wheel, really, not at all necessary because he was handling most everything on his own.
When they were done for the day, the attending physician and her supervisor invited them
to dinner. They dined at the Rib Crib, as suggested by Beth, smiling broadly at Doug who
nodded his approval. She didn't forget much, he thought. They discussed preliminary plans
for adding a Pediatric E.R., with Doug explaining the benefits to the population and to
the existing attendings.
"It's an idea that's really catching on nationwide," he asserted, "and it
will be beneficial to the hospital at large, even from a public relations standpoint.
Parents will want to go to a place that is designed to meet the needs of children."
The day and the dinner had been fruitful and they shook hands all around and promised to
meet in the morning. Doug and Beth had an animated conversation in the car on their way
back to the hotel, each interrupting the other's conversation with more ideas, the
excitement evident in their voices. They stopped in the hotel lounge for just one more
drink, which turned into several drinks as they continued talking triumphantly about their
successful day.
She was exuberant and loosened up with each drink she consumed and they ended up talking
like they'd known each other for years. Doug felt so relaxed with her that when she began
pressing him for information, he found he was less reluctant to disclose things to her.
"Doug, you were kinda...I don't know, melancholy today at the nursery in the
hospital. Do you miss your job, Chicago?"
"I do," he admitted.
"Do you miss her terribly?" Beth asked softly.
Doug looked up at her and she was deeply affected by his expression. His face had changed
and she saw a different man, one filled with a passion and longing that she'd only wished
she'd seen even once on Glenn's face.
"I think about her all day long. All night. I want her here with me, Beth, and I
think that'll never happen. That won't happen."
Beth laid her hand briefly on his. "If you feel that way, why did you leave?"
"I had to leave, I had to get out of Chicago. Things at work got...difficult, I
needed a fresh start." Doug moved closer, confiding in her. "I never thought for
a minute she'd want to stay there without me. We haven't talked at all since I came here,
we're doing some...trial separation thing that I think is stupid, it's wrong. I don't know
what's going to happen, I don't know if she still...wants me." He shook his head and
drained his drink.
*****
She'd had a busy day at work, and a successful one, too. A little girl came in, almost 3
years old, and her symptoms had Mark perplexed. She felt fine, according to her mother,
but her toes and her hand had an odd, red, mottled rash. Mark looked her over, then asked
the mother if they'd broken a thermometer in the house recently. He wondered aloud if it
could be mercury poisoning, because he couldn't for the life of him figure out what else
it could be.
"Hey, Mark, why don't we do a rapid strep?" Carol suggested.
Mark shook his head. "She has no signs or symptoms to indicate it could be strep,
Carol. Her throat's fine."
"Yeah, I know. I just remember once when Doug...he had this little boy with the same
symptoms and he insisted on doing a strep test. I thought he was crazy, but when I got the
results back, sure enough, he was positive for strep."
Mark looked thoughtful. "Okay, get the kit, I'm game."
Carol came back with it and Mark swabbed the girl's throat, making her gag and cry.
"It's okay, honey, we're all done," Mark assured her. He told the mother that
they'd have the results soon and left the room, stopping to check the board to see if they
were making a dent in the patient load. As he took a phone call, he saw Carol trying to
get his attention. "Hang on," he yelled. He finished the call and walked over to
Carol. "What's up?"
"Positive for strep," she answered.
"Sheesh. I would have missed it," Mark admitted. "Good job, Carol."
"Just one of the benefits from hanging around a pediatrician," Carol said.
"Well... emergency medicine doctors can take care of kids, too," Mark reminded
her with a slight edge to his voice.
Carol smiled. "Sure they can. But Doug used to say: 'Kids are not little adults.
Pediatrics is a specialty for a reason.'"
"Yeah, well," Mark said, walking away, "Doug used to say a lot of
things."
The rest of the day was uneventful. Carol finished her charting and went to check the I.V.
rate on her last patient before leaving. She was tired, her head was pounding and all she
wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. As she walked toward the lounge, she saw Mark.
"Tough day, huh?" she asked.
"The day is done," he smiled back. "D'ya wanna join us? Bunch of us are
goin' over to Doc's, grab dinner, complain about work, the usual."
Carol smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I'm just going to head home.
I'm beat."
Mark frowned. "Come on. We'll be beat together." Carol sighed. "Aw,
c'mon," he insisted, "it'll be good to get out."
Her dimples deepened on her cheeks. "Okay, you win.
Mark smiled. "There you go, wait, I'll walk over with you."
Carol and Mark walked across the street in the snow. "Mark, can I ask a
question?"
"Shoot."
"How did you ever bear it when Jennifer left?"
He huffed before answering. "Well, I really didn't. I just tried my best to ignore
it. But, she didn't love me anymore. It was time to move on, I guess." He looked at
her and smiled. "Lots has happened over the past coupla weeks, hasn't it?"
She nodded. Mark opened the door and let her in ahead of him.
"Hey, Carol!" Carter called. "I saved a seat for you!"
"Thanks, Carter." Carol took her coat off and sat next to him, and Mark settled
in across from her. Lydia and Haleh yelled hello from the next booth. Carol looked around,
smiling. It seemed like so long ago that they'd all sat down together to eat like this.
"How's Doug doing, Carol?" Carter asked. Mark shot him a glance, but Carol
didn't see it.
"I'm sure he's settling in fine." Carol said and changed the subject. "What
are you guys getting?"
"Something high in fat, high in cholesterol, and high in sodium, preferably,"
Mark joked. They all laughed and Carol felt comfortable for the first time in days.
Now, she thought, if they could all come home with me, I'd be fine.
*****
Dear Carol,
Have you fallen out of love with me? Would you tell me if you did?
Is my ring still on your finger?
Doug
*****
Dear Doug,
Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?
Carol
*****
Doug put his empty glass down and looked up. Beth had been listening closely and was
nodding solemnly. It looked like Doug would continue talking, but he stopped.
There was something else, something he'd thought of in the nursery that he would not share
with her: He'd thought about how he and Carol had tried to conceive, and then wondered
about her diaphragm. Had she used it the last night they had made love to each other? It
had been so long since he'd seen it, he didn't know where she kept it. He hadn't asked
Carol, didn't want to ask, didn't want to know. He was almost afraid to know.
For part of him now hoped she had thrown it away, that the dream they discussed with
delight across their pillows would have been realized; the other part of him hoped she'd
used it so he wouldn't again be apart from a woman while she was carrying his child. He
didn't want Carol to be vulnerable, to go through it alone. He was too cowardly to ask for
fear it would devastate him either way.
He glanced at Beth and smiled. "I'm really beat, can I walk you back upstairs?"
"Sure. I might need an escort, I've had a bit too much to drink," she confessed.
She was so tipsy that Doug had to stop her at her room. "Here, Beth, here. Give me
your card." Beth fished around in her purse and produced it. Doug took it from her
and unlocked her door. "Good night, see you in the morning," he said, and he
walked to his door and entered his room. Doug took off his shoes as soon as he got in, and
stripped off his jacket, tie and shirt. Just as he was about to remove his slacks, he
heard a knock on the inside door, the one that connected his room to the office suite.
As he opened the door, she walked in.
"I'm sorry, Doug, I hate to bother you...."
"What is it?" he asked, concerned. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She smiled and ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "It's
just...you did a great job today."
Doug looked down, feeling grateful for her companionship, but not really able to find the
right words to tell her. "Well, it was nice having you there. Made my first time
easier for me."
"I was just so impressed, I wanted to let you know." She smiled warmly and moved
disarmingly close to him.
The silence rang in their ears. It was becoming slightly uncomfortable for him: The
nearness of her, the soft lilt to her voice. He chuckled, deflecting the compliment.
"Thanks, but I really don't think...."
Beth placed her finger on his lips to silence him. He stopped abruptly, staring at her and
she removed it, but almost immediately, she placed her whole hand upon his cheek.
"Beth?"
She leaned in and her lips parted as she closed her eyes.
He could smell her perfume again, just like last night, feel her body heat. Her lips were
inches from his when he took her arms in his hands, holding her back. "Beth,
no," he whispered, shaking his head. "I can't do this."
"We're all alone, miles from anyone we know," she said softly.
He shook his head again. "You're a wonderful woman and under different circumstances
I'd be...falling all over you, but I just can't."
"Doug, I can make you...we can just spend the night together, make each other happy.
Make love, ease some pain...."
Doug let go of her arms and smiled sadly. "Do I look that miserable?"
"You look like a man who needs a woman's arms around him tonight. Like a man I'd love
to make love to," Beth answered honestly.
He looked at her, searching for the right words. "I'm flattered, really, but...I
can't sleep with you. It's not that I don't find you attractive, but I'm faithful to the
woman I...left in Chicago."
Beth stopped and backed up into the adjoining office suite, running her hands nervously
through her hair again. "Oh, man. I'm so sorry, Doug." She turned away,
embarrassed.
"No, it's...it's okay. I'm sorry if I led you on in-in any way, if I...."
"God, no," she interrupted him. "This is me. It's all me. You have been a
perfect gentleman, totally professional. I just, I don't know, the drinks, the closeness
of the past couple of days. You. Looking at you tonight." She fixed her blue eyes on
him. She was beautiful, there was no mistaking that.
Doug waited a moment before speaking. "I've made a commitment to her and I
can't...betray her. I don't want to, I'm in love with her."
"Yes, yes. I'm...I'm sorry, it's just that when you said that you don't even know if
she wants you anymore, you don't even know if the relationship has a future, I just
thought...."
"Beth, it's more...complicated than that," he interrupted. "I've waited a
long time for her. Until she tells me that she doesn't love me anymore, I belong to
her."
"Even if you stay apart?"
Doug looked away and she saw the beginnings of a sad smile. He began to say something but
stopped a moment, composing himself. Then he brought his hand to his chest and tapped it
lightly with two fingers. "She's right here all the time."
Beth nodded. "Looks like you have a good sense of loyalty after all, Doug. Good
night," she said quietly.
"Good night, Beth, I'll see you in the morning." He stepped into his room and
closed the door.
*****
Dear Carol,
I hope you don't think I'm an idiot for asking you this, but I have to ask. When things
got a little crazy, you know, toward the end between us, did you use your diaphragm again?
I mean, I can't blame you if you did, you know, I know probably the last thing you'd want
is for me to father your child, seeing as I've proven myself to be -- what was it
you said? Narcissistic. And, I guess, unreliable. But, you know, I was in the nursery of
this hospital in Tulsa and I just got to thinking about it, Carol. Anyway, I hope you
don't mind my asking, I was just wondering.
Doug
*****
He opened the door to his borrowed apartment and realized that it didn't feel any more
like home than his hotel room had. He'd expected things to be strained with Beth after
last night, but it hadn't been. She was just as cordial with him and seemed to want to put
the incident behind her. They finished their preliminary work and flew back to Portland in
the afternoon.
Doug unpacked his suit carrier and dumped half the clothes in the washing machine. He
changed into some sweats and peeked into the refrigerator, wondering if he had anything to
eat. He made a sandwich and heated up a can of soup.
Sitting down in front of the television, he watched a bit of basketball, but for some
reason it really didn't interest him that night. He slurped the soup and changed the
channels, almost deciding to watch a movie on HBO, but then figuring he'd never stay awake
for the ending, he turned the television off.
Despite telling himself that he wasn't going to dwell on it anymore, he thought about what
he'd be doing if he were home at Carol's. He wondered if the other bedroom was finished
yet; hoped Carol remembered to look at the calendar for Jay's arrival time. If the room
were taped and ready, he and Carol would probably have started painting the ceiling. Then,
she would go down to her supply of paint chips and choose a color for the room. He'd
smile, because he'd know what was in her mind, what she had planned for that room. She'd
most likely run out at the first opportunity and look at curtains to match the stencil
she'd bought. The same one she'd talked about months ago. It seemed like years ago.
He was miserable without her. It was his own fault, he thought. He'd thrown happiness away
with both hands.
Doug walked into his bedroom and dug into one of his suitcases. He pulled out a
videocassette, one he'd seen only once, with Carol. As he brought it to the VCR, he
paused. Did he really want to do this, would it be too hard to watch? He didn't know, but
he needed to see her face, hear her voice again, and if they weren't supposed to call each
other, this was the only way he could.
He pushed it in and turned on the television and the VCR. Funny, she's complaining
already, he thought wryly, listening to her try to back out because she was not sure of
what he had planned. Her first instinct is self-protection, he thought. She's so cautious,
so precise about everything.
Doug went to the kitchen for a beer and then sat back down. Her face was there, right
there, as beautiful as ever. She was smiling, giggling at him. Then she was looking down
and she was so damned seductive. Though he could barely see himself in the video, he knew
what he was doing: Kissing her breasts, her stomach. Tasting her skin. He could hear his
mouth on her, her moans let him know he was playing with her nipples now and it aroused
him, thinking about it. Watching her eyes close, watching her lips open while she cooed to
him. It was all so enticing.
She was eyeing him as he traveled down her body and parted her thighs. Doug could almost
tell when his mouth had made contact with her clitoris by her expression; a silent
"oh" was formed by her lips and she exposed her neck. Her eyes closed. He could
see her shoulders pull in; she must be reaching down to me now, playing with my hair.
Encouraging me to move on. Carol sighed and told him not to stop, that it felt so good. On
and on it went, her eyes intermittently opened and closed.
Oh, man.
He'd held off thus far, hoping she'd call, hoping to help her get off over the phone,
knowing she'd do the same for him, but he knew she wouldn't now, and as his erection grew
he listened to her. He was going down on her, making her crazy with desire, making her
come, her head thrashing about on the pillow, her hair flying. The way she said his name
as if she were pleading with him. Her face. Her beautiful face was now alive with
pleasure. Then as she was finished, he finally saw himself working his way back up her
body to kiss her mouth so she could smell her heady scent upon his lips, on his face as
she loved to do. He was so aroused watching her that he succumbed to her image, using it
as a substitute for her.
Feeling worse afterward, because he was alone.
*****
Carol:
Please come to me. This loneliness is taking over my life, the emptiness day after day is
suffocating. Please, Carol, just for a weekend, just for a few days. I'll send you a
ticket, we'll spend a weekend talking, being together. I can't do this. I can't be without
you anymore. Please. How many times in my life do I have to lose you?
Please come. I love you.
Doug
*****
Dear Doug:
I almost called you last night. I wanted to, I even dialed part of your number. I was
afraid, though, because if I'd called you I would have to tell you the truth:
That I'm not sleeping at night because I'm lonely without you.
That I have these horrible headaches and have been tremendously stressed.
That what I thought was spotting due to stress was not that at all, but something else.
That nature or fate or maybe God has played the cruelest of tricks on us. After all those
months of trying, of waiting and of disappointment, the tiny speck of life that is our
child is finally nestled inside, growing within me.
And you're not here to share it with me.
I love you, Doug.
Carol
*****
The end
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