Keeping Score (16 page)

Arthur released his hands and sucked in a deep breath. “If you choose to engage in that act, you should do so in the privacy of your bedroom.”

Shock and anger fueled Marilyn’s burst of laughter. “We were in the privacy of our home.”

He jerked a finger toward the newspaper. “With the windows wide open.”

“The blinds were closed.” She punched her right index finger against the photo. “These shadows are the blinds.”

“You should have made certain they were properly closed.” Arthur’s voice shook with inexplicable outrage.

Marilyn stared at him. “Why? On the off chance that some unknown photographer would sneak onto my private property and press his telephoto lens against my window?”

Arthur stabbed a finger toward the
Horn
. “Look at the paper. It’s not an impossibility.”

Marilyn was approaching the end of her patience. “What do you want from me, Arthur?”

His expression stiffened more, if that were possible. “I want an explanation, something that I can give to the board.”

“Fine. Tell the board a trespasser came onto my property and took an unauthorized photograph of my husband and me doing what married couples do in the privacy of their home.”

Arthur’s nostrils flared. His lips thinned. “You think this is funny? Is this a joke to you?”

Marilyn’s eyes stretched wide. “Do you hear me laughing? A photo of my husband and me is plastered in a newspaper that’s circulated to all of our neighbors, friends, and family. To perfect strangers. There’s nothing funny about that.”

Arthur looked down his long, aquiline nose at her. “If you can’t take this incident seriously, perhaps this hospital isn’t the right fit for you.”

Marilyn narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying, Arthur?”

The administrator gave her a flat stare. “I’m revoking your hospital privileges.”

“What?” Marilyn forced the word past her numb lips.

Suddenly, Arthur didn’t seem as angry at the world. “Your lifestyle doesn’t suit the reputation that this hospital wants to present to the community.”

Marilyn blinked. “Are you kidding me? You do realize that Rick and I are married? Married people have sex, Arthur. How do you think
you
got here?”
Much to my regret.

Arthur looked disgusted. “Do not compare yourself and your lifestyle to my parents.”

Perhaps Arthur’s parents only had sex the one time. She probably would have sworn off the act as well, if he was the result.

Marilyn spun her chair to face her nemesis. “On what grounds are you claiming to dismiss me?”

“Moral grounds.” Arthur’s voice was cold enough to give her chills. “The fact that you and Rick are married doesn’t make it any more acceptable for you to flaunt your sexuality in such a public forum. Patients expect a higher degree of morality and professionalism from their caregivers.”

Marilyn’s mind screamed at the injustice of the accusations Arthur threw at her. “Why are you holding me to a higher moral standard than the other doctors in this hospital?”

Arthur had the audacity to look baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Arthur.” Outrage gave Marilyn the strength to stand. “You know damn well several physicians on staff are having affairs with other doctors—and with their patients. Therefore, how can you claim to dismiss
me
on a morality issue?”

“Several patients have already left because of you.” Arthur drew himself up even straighter.

Would someone please remove the stick from the administrator’s butt?
“One patient, Arthur. And although she left my care, she’s still with the hospital.”

“Hannah DeSuza cancelled her afternoon appointment with you and informed the nurse she was transferring her care to Downstate.” There was satisfaction in Arthur’s tone. It contradicted his supposed concern over keeping patients on the hospital’s record.

Marilyn frowned. “No one informed me of Ms. DeSuza’s cancellation.”

“They informed me.” His meaning was clear. He was the final authority. “My decision isn’t up for debate, Mary. Your access to the hospital has been revoked. If you leave quietly, I’ll be more inclined to give you references.”

Ice spread across Marilyn’s chest, even as her face burned with anger and embarrassment. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Arthur.” She collected her purse and her backpack. “Something tells me a reference from you wouldn’t be the career booster you seem to think.”

She circled the hospital administrator and strode to the elevators. Marilyn could feel the stares of patients and former coworkers following her down the hall. She refused to look back.

Warrick went weak with relief when Marilyn’s number appeared on his cellular screen. He stepped off the running path outside the arena and answered the call. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour. Did you get my messages?”

“I know about the article and the picture. How are you feeling?” Marilyn’s voice was raised over the background traffic noise playing through the connection from her end.

Warrick’s frown was puzzled. Why was she outside? He wiped the sweat from his brow with the palm of his left hand. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Are you sure? I know you were upset about the team’s loss last night. Now that photograph turns up in the
Horn
.”

Why wasn’t she angry with him? Instead she was worried about him.

Warrick turned toward the marina. Watching the water helped to calm him. “I’m all right, Mary. Really. Now tell me how you’re doing.”

“I’ve been better.” Marilyn’s tone was dry. “Arthur revoked my hospital privileges.”

“What?” Warrick turned from the water. “Why?”

“He said we were immoral for flaunting the fact that we have sex outside the bedroom.”

Warrick saw red. Again. “Son of a—”

“He’s never been one of my favorite people, either.”

“We didn’t pay that photographer to take our picture. The newspaper did.”

“I tried explaining that to him. It didn’t work.” Marilyn’s reasonable tone was faked. Warrick heard the underlying anger.

“I’m so sorry, Mary.” How could he ever make this up to her? Was this the final straw that ended their marriage? He wished he could see her, study her expression, read her body language.

“So am I.”

“Jackie threatened the
Horn
with legal action to get them to turn over the photos and agree never to print them again.”

“The damage has been done, Rick. I feel as though I’ve been victimized repeatedly by the photographer, then the newspaper, now my ex-boss.” Her voice wobbled on her last words.

Warrick died a thousand deaths. “Are you on your way home?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Warrick started jogging back to his car. “I don’t want you to be by yourself right now.”

Marilyn sniffled. “No, I’ll be fine. I need a little time to clear my head. And you and the team need to practice so you can beat the Waves in Miami on Sunday.”

Warrick gripped his cell phone. “The team can wait.” His tone was hard.

Marilyn expelled a breath. “You say that now, but you’d regret it Sunday.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would. Besides, we’re a one-income household now. We can’t afford the fine you’d have to pay for missing practice.” Marilyn’s response was a weak attempt at her normal humor. She was hurting and trying not to show it. Warrick had always found her inner strength attractive. But today, it made him feel worse.

“I’d pay it gladly.”

Marilyn exhaled a shaky breath. “I know you would. But, please, I just need some time alone right now. And maybe when you win the finals, this will all have been worth it.”

His heart was breaking. “I don’t think so.”

The situation with the newspaper running a photo of their lovemaking illustrated Marilyn’s point.
She
wasn’t the celebrity. In fact, neither of them had signed up for such a prurient invasion of their privacy. The media had gone way too far. It had lost any sense of decency.

Warrick slowed to a walk. He’d give her the time she’d asked for to process these latest events. “I can’t believe Arthur fired you because of the newspaper’s lack of morals.”

“You know, ‘ex-boss’ would sound a lot better if I’d gotten to keep my job and he’d lost his.”

Warrick forced a brief laugh. “You’re right. Are you sure you don’t want me to come home?”

“Positive.” The word came out on a breath. “I’ve never been fired before. I want to be alone right now.”

Warrick wanted to break something. Rip something apart. Pummel the photographer and the newspaper editor and cause them the kind of pain they were causing Marilyn. Why couldn’t he protect his wife?

“Mary, I’m really sorry.”

“So am I.” Marilyn’s voice was choppy with grief.

“I’d tear that newspaper apart, but it would only give the media another excuse to show that damn photograph.” Warrick ran his right hand across his forehead.

“Then we’ll have to come up with another idea.” Her voice was getting stronger as her temper seemed to rise.

“I’ll keep working on it.”

“When will this nightmare end, Rick?” Marilyn’s voice was barely audible.

The sea breeze worked to cool him off as his wife’s words tore him in two.

“I don’t know.” His throat muscles flexed as he made the admission.

Marilyn sighed. “Will it ever?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know that, either.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” She ended the call without waiting for a response. It didn’t matter. Warrick didn’t have a response to give her.

11

Marilyn was home at half past ten on a weekday morning. How strange. She locked the front door, took off her shoes, and wandered into the family room. The numbness was wearing off. The house was silent as though it, too, were in shock. She’d been fired. And regardless of what Arthur had said, she knew for him this day was the culmination of a two-year dream.

Marilyn put away thoughts of Arthur’s vendetta. She had to call Janet Crowley and Dionne Sproles, the clinic partners. As much as she wanted to bury her head in the sand, she had to deal with this—the sooner the better. But what should she say?

Did you see the photo in the
Horn
of my husband and me making love? What did you think?
Marilyn shuddered with nausea.

How many people had seen that photo? Coworkers, patients, neighbors, friends?

She wouldn’t think about that right now. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d never make the phone call.

Marilyn crossed the family room. The polished hardwood floor was cool beneath her stocking feet. Her hand hovered above the black cordless telephone. Hopefully, the clinic partners were more reasonable than Arthur.

What if they weren’t?

Arthur had fired her on the spot. Could this photo also cost her the clinic partnership?

What was she going to tell them?

The truth.

She lifted the handset, took a fortifying breath, and entered Janet’s direct phone number. The senior partner answered on the third ring. “Good morning, Mary.”

Marilyn froze. Caller identification. It eliminated social pleasantries and jump-started conversations. At this moment, she deeply resented the telephone feature. She could have used the icebreaker.

“Hello, Janet.” She resisted the urge to clear her throat and adopted a brisk, businesslike tone. “I assume you saw the photo in today’s
New York Horn
.”

“Indeed I did.” Janet sounded smugly amused. “It looks like you and your husband are getting back together.”

Marilyn smoothed the hairs on the back of her neck. “We were never apart.”

“That’s not what the papers reported.”

Marilyn heard the thin woman’s superior tone and pictured her condescending expression. She gripped the phone to rein in her temper.

Stay focused; don’t allow the other woman to distract you.
“I wanted you to know that our kitchen blinds were closed.”

Janet’s hum slid down the phone line. “I’d wondered what caused the shadows on the top and bottom of the photo. Still, your blinds must not have been closed all the way.” More smug amusement.

Marilyn turned away from the telephone’s base to pace the family room. “They were. The Peeping Tom who took that picture snuck onto our property and pressed his camera lens against our window.”

Janet chuckled. “Still, Mary, no one can blame you for wanting to show off your husband. I’m certain all the women in the tristate area are even more jealous of you now. Well, those who aren’t married to professional athletes themselves, that is.”

Did the clinic’s senior partner really think she would have staged that photo? What kind of person would consider going into business with an exhibitionist? And did she want a business partner who believed her capable of such behavior?

“I’m not an exhibitionist.” Marilyn was inflexible.

Janet laughed again. “I would be.”

The conversation was degenerating. “Listen, Janet. I just wanted you to be aware of how this situation came about. I wanted you to know the truth while you’re considering my application.”

Janet’s pause was unnerving. “Marilyn, you’ll recall that when we last discussed the possibility of your joining the partnership, Dionne and I voiced our reservations with your husband’s lifestyle.”

Marilyn’s grip on the cordless phone tightened. “And I assured you that my husband does not have the kind of lifestyle that would negatively impact the clinic.”

Janet huffed a breath. “Well, the photograph that appears enlarged on the front page of the
Horn
illustrates otherwise.”

Marilyn’s temper stirred. She wouldn’t allow this attack against her husband. “First of all, that photograph does not appear on the
newspaper’s
front page. It appears on the front page of the
gossip
section. And, since I don’t engage in gossip, if someone else hadn’t brought it to my attention, I never would have seen it.”

“Well, I only happened across it myself,” Janet stuttered.

Marilyn ignored Janet’s interruption. “Second, making love with your spouse is not generally viewed as a high-risk or immoral act.”