The Family Doctor (12 page)

T
ONY TOLD HIMSELF HE
wouldn't seek Kate out at work that morning. It wasn't any of his business why her ex-husband would be in her bedroom so early.

It didn't matter a damn to him, he seethed. There'd been an intimacy to the overheard scene that shocked him, emphasizing just how much of a stranger he was in Kate's life, and how familiar this Scott guy was, barging into her bedroom first thing in the morning.

Which of course logically brought out the urge to race over there and punch Kate's ex in the gut.
Absolutely rational response, O'Connor, you raving lunatic.

He registered for the seminar, and then at 9:00 a.m., he sat through a meeting where the main issue seemed to be the question of why plastic instruments were being autoclaved when they were supposed to be disposable. The answer, of course, involved finances. He made what he hoped were intelligent noises as he tried to figure out why he'd be jealous over a woman he hadn't properly dated yet.

Not that he hadn't tried, Goddamn it. He'd wanted to take her to dinner. With the kids included. He should have known that dating with kids around was impossible.

Or at least, it was with Kate's kid around, he revised. McKensy was another story. She'd happily set up a wedding date for him and Kate if she thought there was any possibility of getting the stepmother she longed for.

At ten, Tony took part in a panel discussion whose primary function was to approve new physicians. He read résumés and asked questions and wondered if Kate had called. He checked his messages during the coffee break and was furious to find she hadn't even tried.

At eleven, he participated in a discussion among staff members on the pros and cons of introducing a policy that would make alternative medical practices available to patients at St. Joe's. He asked questions about acupuncture and decided he'd find out if she were free for lunch. They had a lot of things to sort out.

To his enormous relief, she answered when he dialed her office.

“Kate? It's Tony.” Now, wasn't that self-confidence for you? Surely by now she ought to recognize him by his voice. It was a wonder he hadn't added O'Connor. “Kate, could you meet me for lunch?”

‘Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry. I have a luncheon meeting with Libby Baker.”

Libby Baker was the social worker in Rehab. And he could tell from the formal tone of Kate's voice that she had someone in her office at that moment.

“Not a problem,” he said in such an upbeat tone he almost made himself nauseous. “I just wanted to go over the, uh—” he racked his brain for something viable “—your ideas regarding the new consent forms in admitting.” It was fairly lame, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice.

“Absolutely. Maybe we could discuss them on the plane,” she said.

The plane? For an instant it didn't register. Then he understood. The
plane.
The plane to Edmonton. She was going to the conference. His spirits went from dismal to elated with no intermediary steps.

“I'm booked on the 9:00 a.m. flight with Western Air on Friday morning,” she said, just as if he'd had sense enough to ask.

Slack, O'Connor. You're definitely out of practice at this.

“Me, too.” He'd booked with Air Canada, but that was about to change. The moment he got off the phone, he'd switch airlines and make certain they had seats beside each other. “Fine, then. That's great. I'll be sure to bring the admission forms along.”

Not in this lifetime.
His wicked imagination went
straight to other, more salacious things they could do on the plane. Was there still something called the high-flyers club, where you spread a blanket across your knees and— He suddenly remembered that the flight to Edmonton with Western Air was only forty-five minutes in a small plane that probably didn't even have blankets. Last time he took it, which was several years ago, it barely had bathrooms.

“Tony, can I call you back? I'm with someone at the moment. I'll be free in half an hour or so.”

“Sure, call whenever you can. I'll be here.” He'd been about to head off to the cafeteria, but lunch suddenly didn't seem at all important.

He busied himself with changing his reservations and cajoling Western Air into seating him and Kate side by side. Then he scanned reports until the phone rang. He pounced on it.

“Tony, it's me.” Her voice was low and intimate. “Sorry about before. I had someone with me and couldn't talk. Look, I want to apologize for this morning.”

“No apologies necessary.” The Edmonton trip had taken the heat out of his anger, although he still wanted to murder her ex, just on general principles.

“Well, let me explain exactly what happened, then.” She did, and by the time she was through he felt much better, although he still didn't appreciate her ex-husband having the run of her bedroom. But what right did he have to object?

“Talk about a comedy of errors,” she sighed in his ear. “You see why I'm looking forward to Edmonton. It feels like a holiday for me.”

“I'm looking forward to it, as well. And Kate, I'm going to have to cancel our morning walk for the rest of the week. I have early meetings and a dental appointment.”

“Oh, too bad.” Was that a trace of relief in her voice? “I wouldn't be able to make it on Thursday, anyway. Leslie's mom's funeral is in the morning.”

“Do you have the name of the funeral parlor? I'll send flowers. I wish I could attend, but what with taking Friday off, I'm swamped.”

She gave him the number and he made a note of it.

“Until Friday, then.”

He loved the husky timbre of her voice on the phone. “By the way,” he asked, “do you need a ride to the airport?”

“That would be nice. If we're going on the same flight?”

“We are. I'll pick you up at six-fifteen.”

There was a pause. “Six-fifteen? Doesn't the flight leave at nine?”

“I always like to leave time for emergencies.”

He heard her swallow. “Of course. I'll be ready. Six-fifteen.”

He hung up the phone, locked his hands behind his head and spent five precious minutes anticipating Edmonton.

 

L
ESLIE WAS A MODEL
of perfect control during Galina's funeral. She sat with an elderly woman Kate assumed was her aunt. Kate wept during the church service, but Leslie was dry eyed. At the burial site, she made a point of personally thanking each person for coming, but politely refused Kate's offer to take everyone out to lunch and promised she'd call later in the day.

Feeling uneasy about Leslie and sad about Galina, Kate went back to work, but the moment she was finished that afternoon, she drove to Leslie's apartment. She'd worried all day that Leslie would be sitting by herself, crying, but Leslie was composed when she answered the door. She said that she and her aunt were leaving for Victoria and they had to go to the airport right away, so she couldn't invite Kate in.

Kate suggested she drive them to the airport. “You must be exhausted, Les, and I'm worried sick about you.”

Leslie refused to let Kate drive them. She wanted her car waiting when they got back, she explained.

It was hard for Kate not to feel rebuffed, but she reminded herself that Leslie was under a great deal of strain.

When she got home, she had a ton of things to do herself, laundry and ironing and her own packing, as well as help Eliza get ready for her camping trip. Still, Kate made a point of calling Leslie twice more that evening, using her friend's cell number.

There was no answer either time. She was probably out with her relatives, Kate surmised. She left a message asking her friend to call the moment she got in.

But by the time Kate headed for bed, the phone still hadn't rung.

 

“M
ORNING
, K
ATE
.” Tony lifted her suitcase as if it didn't weigh a ton and put it in the trunk of his sleek black car. He was wearing close-fitting jeans and a short-sleeved checked shirt, and he looked totally wide-awake.

Kate could smell the fresh, outdoorsy scent of his aftershave, which was a good thing, she thought blearily. It might help wake her up. The shower she'd taken hadn't done much in that regard.

She'd helped Eliza pack the night before, and it was late before she got around to her own packing. And then she couldn't decide what to take, which was why her suitcase was so heavy. Around midnight, she'd become desperate and simply decided to take almost everything she owned in the way of decent clothes. Once that decision was made, it was just a matter of packing her largest suitcase. But then she'd had a bath and gone through the entire female beauty ritual of plucking her eyebrows, shaving her legs and giving herself a manicure and pedicure.

As a result, she hadn't gotten to bed until two
thirty this morning. Then she couldn't get to sleep, and now she couldn't wake up. But man, was she well groomed.

“Here we go.” Tony opened the car door for her and she slid inside.

She figured anybody that could drive at six in the morning would probably want to hold a conversation, and she hoped it would be something that didn't require much gray matter. Her brain didn't feel any more awake than the rest of her.

“Looks like rain,” he commented.

She made an agreeable noise in her throat.

“I hope it's hot in Edmonton, I like the heat.”

She got away with the same noncommittal noise, and leaned back against the padded headrest. “This is a really nice car, Tony,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Glad you like it.” He sounded amused.

It
was
nice. The seat was soft. The headrest was comfortable. She could just relax during the forty-minute drive to the airport. She closed her eyes just for an instant, and then someone was touching her face with his fingertips. With an effort, she dragged herself into consciousness. The car was stopped in an echoing underground parking space.

“Kate? Kate, wake up. We're at the airport.”

She was slumped sideways against his shoulder, drooling a little. “Omigod. I guess I fell asleep.”

He was grinning at her. “I guess you did. I've
never seen anyone go to sleep that fast. I was talking to you and you were dead to the world.”

“Gosh. Did I snore?” Her dry throat told her she had. She cleared it and added, “Much?”

“No, no.” He was trying not to laugh. “Not very much, anyhow. You awake enough to walk into the terminal, or should I request a wheelchair?”

“Yeah. No, no wheelchair. Of course I can walk.” She cleared her throat again and ran her fingers through her hair. It was probably all mashed down on one side, and her eyes felt gummy.

“I'll get a cart for the bags.”

He'd found one and had it loaded by the time she dragged herself out of the car. “I'm starting to wake up now.” She tried to sound chipper.

“That's a positive sign.” He was laughing at her again, but it didn't bother her. Instead, she felt cared for.

He wheeled the cart into the terminal, found the proper counter and got the luggage checked and their boarding passes without her having to say or do a thing except yawn. The best part about arriving so early was no lineups.

He tucked her hand under his elbow and led her through Security and to the waiting area at the proper gate. He found her a seat—they were nearly the first ones there—and then went off and bought coffee, fixing it just the way she liked it, lots of cream and a touch of sugar.

“This is heaven—pure ambrosia. Thank you.”
As she sipped the coffee, she could feel herself begin to come out of the sleepy fog that enveloped her. When she had finished, she visited the washroom and splashed her face with cold water, redoing the minimal makeup that was now smeared and smudged. She brushed her hair, grateful that the shoulder-length mop didn't require much attention.

Tony smiled at her when she came out, and all of a sudden she was awake and aware. God, he was a good-looking man. He had the longest legs and the nicest hands and the warmest smile. And they'd be together all day today and tomorrow. She walked over and sat back down beside him, conscious that he was watching her every step of the way. He winked at her and handed her a fresh coffee, which was exactly what she wanted at that moment.

“So,” she said in a bright voice, “what do you think about those new admission forms?”

He grinned at her. “You want the truth? I don't give a tinker's damn about the admission forms.”

She grinned back. “What a coincidence. Because neither do I.”

“So what does that leave us to talk about on the plane?”

She sipped the coffee, and the jolt of caffeine brought her awake once and for all. “Well, for starters you could tell me how you got in the habit of getting up in the middle of the night. And what kind of complex makes you arrive at the airport hours early?”

“I'm an early riser. It's a carryover from when I was interning and hardly got any sleep at all. As for getting here early, remember when you were a kid and you were so excited about something you couldn't sleep?”

“Yeah. Christmas, my birthday. Sometimes when the moon's full and shining in my window, I still get wired.”

“That's how I was about this trip. Wired.”

“It's your birthday? You were looking at the moon?”

“I was thinking about Edmonton.”

“You're that excited about hearing a lecturer talk about medical ethics?” She thought she knew what he was leading up to, but she couldn't resist teasing him a little.

“Nope. I'm excited about having a couple days to ourselves, Kate. Away from kids and family and work.” He looked into her eyes, and he wasn't laughing at all. “I'm excited about spending time with you, getting to know you better. We haven't really had a chance for that.”