What We Find

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“When are you going back?” he asked.

“That’s really not your concern, now is it?” she said.

“You’ve lost your mind, is that it? You’re a surgeon. A gifted surgeon. You can’t stay here!”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you. You really should have called. I could’ve saved you a trip.”

“You’re ignoring my calls.”

“Well, there’s a reason for that. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“We’re not enemies, I hope. Come on, Maggie. Can we talk? Please? We have things to talk about.”

“This is a bad time,” she said.

Sully came from behind her, from the kitchen or storeroom. For seventy and in recovery from heart surgery, apparently his hearing was perfect. “Hello, Andrew,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

“Sully! Damn, it’s good to see you,” Andrew said, grabbing Sully’s hand and pumping it. “You look great! Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m doing fine. Not crazy about the new diet, but I’ll live.”

Andrew laughed. “You have really good color.”

“I was told I’d come out of it looking better than when I went in. I have freshly widened arteries to float my oxygen through. As a beauty treatment, I don’t recommend it.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Andrew said with a laugh. “What a relief to see you. Did Maggie say I called? Just to see how you were?”

“She might’ve mentioned it, thanks. But we’re doing fine.”

“Maggie, are you going back to Denver anytime soon?” Andrew asked.

“I haven’t made any plans.”

“Can you break away for a few minutes? I won’t keep you long.”

“Sure. Meet you out front in a few.”

She watched him walk away, leave the store as a couple of guys walked in. “I’ll get this, Sully,” she said.

“Nah, go deal with him. I’ll live through a checkout or two.”

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Stop pampering me. I’m doing a damn sight better after heart surgery than he did after his knee surgery. You’d think he’d delivered a baby elephant or something. And don’t you dare use me as an excuse for not going back to work. Go on now. Get rid of him.”

That made Maggie laugh a little, though she was in no mood to laugh over Andrew. It was true, though—what a lot of complaining he’d done after a knee scope. It was his first experience on that side of the knife, poor baby. “I won’t be long,” she said.

“Be as long as you want,” he said. “Just make sure you don’t invite him to dinner.”

Oh, Sully wasn’t happy with Andrew, and he didn’t even know the half of what Andrew had put her through. It was so rare for Sully to get out of sorts with someone and Maggie hadn’t even explained all that went on between them. But then, Sully usually guessed right.

Andrew was leaning up against his car, texting or reading his email. He straightened when she walked out of the store and down the porch steps. He really was so good-looking. She remembered the first time he suggested dinner. She’d been so surprised—he wanted to date her? He was one of those classically handsome men—chiseled cheekbones and chin, tall with dark blond hair, striking blue eyes, enviable physique. And he was so nice. But he was an ER doc—they had to have certain gifts, had to know how to deal with frightened, hurting people, had to be swift and skilled. Andrew could put patients and their families at ease and get the job done quickly.

“Maggie,” he said. “You’re looking good.”

“Thank you. Listen, we don’t have anything to do here. You said you were done. Let’s go with that.”

“Come on, Maggie, that wasn’t exactly it,” he argued, reaching for her hand.

“No, that was exactly it. Before I came back here, before Sully’s heart attack, you said I was too depressed for you, that you couldn’t deal with it anymore. Of course my practice was shutting down, I was thinking about filing for bankruptcy, I was being sued by the family of a sixteen-year-old I lost on the table, and I was trying to stay ahead of the bills by picking up call for other doctors, mostly nights and weekends so I could give interviews and depositions all week. Oh—and did I mention, I’d just lost my baby? The baby I wanted but you didn’t. I’m so sorry I wasn’t more cheerful, but there you have it.” She shrugged. “Sorry, babe, that’s all I’ve got,” she said, mimicking him. “It turned out Sully needed me. That’s all I have to say, Andrew.”

“Look, I want us to be friends,” he said. “I want to lend support if I can...”

She laughed a little. “You want us to be friends?” she asked, aghast. “I’ve never been treated more cruelly by anyone in my life, Andrew. You asked me to abort a baby because it wasn’t convenient for you, then you bitched because I grieved. Andrew, hear this, please. I don’t want to be friends. I spent a couple of years as your friend. That meant taking vacation to look after you when you got a meniscus tear repaired, listening to your rants over your crazy ex-wife and hearing a million complaints about the working conditions in your ER. Being your friend appears to mean that I should be there for you, be perpetually happy no matter what’s going on. But, when I need you, you’re unavailable. That’s not good enough for me. Please just go.”

“Maggie,” he said in that calm, deep, lovely voice. “You’re crying.”

“Shit,” she said, wiping at her cheeks. “We’re done. It’s non-negotiable. I wouldn’t take you back if you begged me. I can’t be with a man as selfish as you.”

“That’s not fair,” he said. “Would you have wanted me to lie? When you told me you were pregnant, I told you the truth. I have a daughter and a crazy ex-wife and no, I was not planning to have more children. It was one of the first issues we talked about when we started seeing each other. You said you understood completely.”

“I wasn’t pregnant then!”

“Be reasonable—it wasn’t planned,” he said.

“Just go!”

She turned and walked around to the back of the store and in the back door. She ducked into the bathroom beside the storeroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, she was crying. Again.

In medicine, everyone worships stoicism, thus her hiding in stairwells. She once sneaked into a bathroom and sobbed her brains out when she lost a young woman and her unborn child, even though saving them had been a long shot. GSW. Gunshot wound—so tragic. Then there was a mass shooting at a high school, several victims and they pulled them through, all of them, and it had almost the same effect on her—she cried until she was sick to her stomach. That was back when she was in Chicago doing her fellowship with Walter. The sheer violence and cruelty of a school shooting had nearly gutted her. By the time she was practicing, she’d figured out how to hide it, the overpowering emotion. But she hadn’t cried over a man since she was sixteen.

Not the man, she reminded herself. The relationship and the baby.

Andrew, the sensitive ER doctor, left her because she was having trouble coping with her loss. She really and truly had not known he was that inflexible, that cold. There must be a lesson in there somewhere. And she was damn sure going to find it.

She splashed cold water on her face, dried it, went back into the store. And of course who was standing beside Sully wearing a look of concern but Cal.

“Well, Calistoga, you’re just everywhere, aren’t you?”

“You okay, Maggie?” he asked.

“I got a little pissed, that’s all. Ex-boyfriend.”

“Gotcha,” Cal said. He looked at his watch. “Why don’t you go home and see what you can find for dinner for you and Sully. I’ll hang out here till closing.”

She sniffed. “Would you like to join us?” she asked.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.”

“It’s early,” she said.

“It’s okay, Maggie,” he said. “Take a break. Get some alone time.”

“Sunday night can get a little... Ah, hell. I’m going,” she said.

No legacy is so rich as honesty.

—William Shakespeare

Chapter 5 (#ulink_43b52b94-b599-5150-965c-3bb62f431818)

When Maggie had gone, Cal looked at Sully. “I bet she doesn’t get like that very often,” he said.

“Like what?” Sully said. But he was frowning.

“Teary. Splotchy. Shook up. What did he do to her?”

“I have no idea, but I bet I wouldn’t like it.”

“How long was he the boyfriend?”

“Couple a years. I didn’t think he was that much of a boyfriend.”

“Did you ever mention that to Maggie?”

Sully laughed, but not with humor. “Maggie look like the kind of person anyone tells what to do? She’s contrary sometimes. I try to stay out of her business. She doesn’t return the favor, either.”

There was a lot of cleaning up, putting away, sweeping and organizing to do after the last of the weekend campers pulled out. Those who were leaving had settled up and were on the road by six at the latest. There were five campsites and one cabin still engaged and according to Sully all of them were planning to stay longer.

“Should we restock?” Cal asked.

“Let’s not do it tonight,” Sully said.

“I bet you don’t ordinarily leave the store until it’s ready for morning,” Cal said.

“I don’t ordinarily get tired. In summer and warm weather me and Tom give the place a nice face-lift on Wednesdays, slowest day. When Enid’s in the store I spend more time on the garden and grounds but weekends find me right here, ready for anyone. Nights I patrol a little before I go to bed but hardly get any trouble. A year ago I got laid up with the pneumonia—things got pretty sloppy around here but we were running real low on weirdos or drunks so it was at least quiet. Don’t know why I’d get the pneumonia when the weather finally gets warm, but I never ran high on good luck, except for Maggie. Maggie’s about the luckiest thing a man could get and I wasn’t even trying. Imagine what I could do if I was trying?”

Cal smiled. The pneumonia made him grin. If you didn’t pay close attention to someone like Sully you would think he wasn’t terribly smart. But Cal did pay attention. Sully was sharp as a tack and had that enviable insight into people so few possessed. “Where’s your wife, Sully?” he asked boldly.

“Phoebe? She’s in Golden, married to someone who deserves her.”

“Are you still...you know... Do you miss her sometimes?”

“Miss Phoebe? Oh, Jesus, boy. Hell no, I don’t miss Phoebe! She’s the biggest pain in the ass I ever met. She’s everyone’s pain in the ass. Poor Maggie, that’s all I have to say. She tries to take care of her mother. Phoebe.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must’ve been drunk.”

Call laughed with him. “Well, what do you suppose it was?” Cal asked. “No man gets that drunk. She must have been beautiful. Or sweet. Something.”

“Oh, I could put a dent in the keg back then, but that Phoebe, she was mighty pretty. And funny and sweet but God as my witness, it sure didn’t last long. I shouldn’t’a brought her here—it was a bad match. She found fault with every breath I took. She was difficult. Miserable, unhappy.”

“What do you think was wrong?” he asked.

Sully thought for a moment. “Well, son, it’s mostly my fault, I’m sure of that. I’d been to Vietnam and it didn’t leave me right, if you know what I mean. I had settling to do, in my head and other places and I just hadn’t taken the time. I hadn’t stopped making noise enough to listen to that inside voice. I was listening to the voice in the bottle sometimes. Phoebe would bitch that I was drinking and I’d just drink more. And Phoebe? She’s one of those people who’s always hungry, if you know what I mean.”

Cal frowned. “Hungry?”

He shook his head. “She couldn’t be satisfied. I believe she tried, but she couldn’t. I didn’t understand until she left and took Maggie with her. Then I understood what that felt like. It’s a miserable feeling, wanting something you can’t have.” He put a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “You go on, Cal. It’s a nice evening. Cool but clear. There could be rain ahead so enjoy it now while you can.”

“If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Cal watched Sully put the closed sign on the door and went to his camper. He had the impression that Sully had just confided more in him than he had in his daughter, whose absence a long time ago had filled him with an aching hunger. He believed Sully might never have told Maggie she was the greatest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t a facial expression or inflection in his voice. It’s the way we don’t tell the most important people in our lives the most important things. It was how men tended to be.

He made his fire by the lake in a brick fire pit that had been there a long time. He couldn’t be more obvious if he’d made his fire in front of the porch, yet she didn’t come.

I should’ve kissed her, he thought. For the past several nights she’d found him after dark and they’d talked by the fire. Sometimes they had a beer together, sometimes just the dark and conversation. She had no idea what she was revealing. Her admiration for Sully, her concern, her annoyance with all things as though she felt completely out of place. But he hadn’t suspected a broken heart.

I should’ve kissed her before he came back and made her realize she’d felt so lonely.

He loved the anger that made her skin mottle. He was guessing, but he bet anger made her cry as often as sadness. He wished Lynne had had more fight in her. Maybe she had at first but it was soon reduced to helplessness. He loved Maggie’s sturdiness. He laughed as he thought that—what woman wanted to be admired for something like that?