Under Alaskan Skies (24 page)

“It’s difficult, I know. But it’s all worth it,” his father said.

He didn’t know what to say. This was not the time to voice any doubts, not with the guests in the living room. Maybe there would never be a time to voice any doubts to his father.

They oohed and aahed over the photos his parents had taken as well as those of Mira’s parents. Theirs were pictures of the islands the ship had passed, the views of the glaciers from the helicopter and pictures of friends they’d met on the cruise. Then Matt brought his out. First the views of the eagles’ nests from Carrie’s plane. Then the town of Mystic, its houses, its school and the sound.

“It looks so small,” his mother said, “and poor. What do the people do?”

“Population 350,” he said. “The people fish and hunt and work in the store or teach at the school, what people do everywhere.” He heard the defensive tone in his voice, but couldn’t control it.

“They have no doctor, is that right?” Mira’s father asked.

“That’s why I went. There was a medical emergency.” He showed the next slide. Carrie’s face filled the screen. The picture he’d taken in her boat on the way to the island. Her hair was a vivid red-gold halo around her face. Her smile lit up the screen. She looked so vivacious, so alive, so real, so damned desirable, he felt as if he’d been struck by an arrow in the middle of his chest. He wished he’d never brought his slides. He wished he’d sorted through them first. There was a long silence in the room. He fumbled for the control so he could forward to the next slide, but he couldn’t find the right button.

“Isn’t that the young lady who came to the ship, the female pilot?” his father said. “The one who was so determined to get a doctor?”

“Yes,” Matt said at last when he was able to speak. “That’s Carrie.” Finally he got to the next picture. Another one of Carrie, and then one of him in the boat that she’d taken. There were no pictures of her in the rain, or of her in the hot springs, or at her birthday party in her baggy coveralls, but that didn’t keep the images from crowding his mind. He heard himself describing the town, the surrounding hills and the sound, but his voice seemed to belong to someone else. Somehow he got through the rest of them and he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

The conversation turned to other things besides their cruise. They talked of work and friends and neighbors. Matt hoped he was making appropriate comments while his mind spun around. He’d thought he would be able to forget her. He’d thought he’d be
able to have a normal life without her, but right now he would be damned if he knew how to go about it. He was filled with the most intense longing he’d ever had in his life. Somehow he got through the evening. The guests left, and he was on his way out the door when his parents asked him about Mira.

“We’re just friends,” he said.

“I see,” his mother said. “We had hoped…you seemed so right for each other.”

“I know,” he said. “But what it seemed was not what it was. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m sorry you had to disappoint Mira,” she said. “She’s such a lovely girl.”

“Yes, she is,” he agreed. “She deserves someone better than me. Good night.”

He left them standing in the door, the expression on their faces puzzled concern.

When he got home he called Carrie again and left another message. He told her to page him at the hospital if he wasn’t home, that he had to speak to her. The next day he went to the hospital and before he made rounds with the head of plastic surgery, he dropped in to see Jay, his friend in neurosurgery. He brought the slides he’d taken of Donny along with the latest information he’d gotten from Carrie.

Jay looked at the pictures and took the information that Carrie had sent Matt. He said he thought it was time to transport the patient. Matt explained his financial situation, and Jay said not to worry, there were funds for such patients and several of the doctors had volunteered to help out in these cases. He asked Matt about the transportation. Matt said he’d pay his way, that it would be arranged from up there.

He walked out of the office with a sense of purpose he’d lacked since his return from Alaska. Now if only he’d hear from Carrie so she could set things in motion. The hours dragged, the minutes lasted hours. She didn’t call and she didn’t call and he grew more restless than ever. Finally, when he was in the hospital cafeteria, forcing himself to eat a plateful of meat loaf and mashed potatoes before going back to work, his pager beeped. He snatched it up and saw her number on the screen. He jumped up from the table and found a quiet space outside in the staff parking lot where he called from his cell phone.

“How are you?” he demanded. “Where have you been?”

“Everywhere,” she said. “I’ve never been so busy. How are you?”

He said he was fine, but he was far from fine. He was tense, he was nervous, he was so strung out he felt as if he was going to snap at any moment. “I’m busy, too. Look, from what you told me about Donny, the neurosurgeon thinks it may be time to bring him down. Can you do that?”

“I think so,” she said. “I’ve found a guy who does medical evacuations regularly. I just have to see when he’s free.”

“I’ll pay for it, whatever the cost,” he said.

“I don’t know if the family will accept charity,” she said. “But I’ll tell them you’ve offered.”

“Tell them I insist,” he said, knowing how poor they were. Knowing that Donny’s father worked only seasonally at the zinc mine. “It will be good to see you.” Good? It would be incredible, earth-shaking, amazing.

“Me? I don’t think—There’s no need—I mean, his mother or father will be coming with him. There’s no reason for me to come.”

His heart fell. “But I thought…” He’d always imagined her coming with him. He’d planned what they’d do together. They’d talked about it. Of course she’d demurred at the time, but by now he thought she might be missing him as much as he was missing her. He must be wrong. She didn’t want to come.

“I understand,” he said stiffly. “You’re too busy. Well, let me know when you can schedule the plane.”

Chapter Eleven

Carrie hung up the phone and sat down in a nearby chair with her whole body shaking uncontrollably. She had been proud of how fast her life got back to normal after Matt left. At least on the surface. She had a backlog of orders, of pickups and deliveries that kept her busy for days, flying out every morning and returning in the evening, exhausted and drained of all energy. She was glad for clear weather and for all the business. She didn’t want time alone at home. She did not want to sit on the couch and gaze into the flames dancing in the fireplace by herself. She didn’t want to cook for herself or eat by herself.

Deep down where it counted, she was disappointed that her life had not gotten back to normal. It was not normal for her to be bothered by the empty house or a table set for one. It was not normal for her to lie awake at night and think about what had been a strange and unusual interlude in her life. She was not one to dwell in the past. She’d gotten over a broken engagement and her father’s death, and she would get over feeling let down because Matt had suddenly come into her life and then left just as abruptly.

She did her best not to think. During the day she was okay. When she was home, she checked up on Donny, took his vital signs the way Matt had taught her, took his blood pressure with the cuff he’d left behind, took his temperature with the digital thermometer he’d given her, checked his reflexes to see how much feeling had come back the way he’d shown her. Matt had said this next week would be crucial, so she knew he’d be checking with her and she wanted to have all the data when he called.

But when he’d first called, she was gone. The sound of his voice sent her pulse racing. She played the message over and over. She tried to call him back but he wasn’t there. She hoped the conversation would be brief. She hoped that Donny would be the only topic of discussion. There was no point in talking about what had happened, or what might have happened or what could happen. It was over. Period. End of subject. She kept the information she’d gathered on Donny near the phone so she’d be ready. But she kept missing his calls.

Now that they’d finally connected, she wished they hadn’t. Just the sound of his voice could make her break out in goose bumps all over her skin. She sat there for a long moment. Then she had a glass of wine. Then she walked around the house aimlessly, talking to herself. Warning herself, calming herself, telling herself he didn’t feel the same as she did.

She had no intention of flying to San Francisco with Donny. He didn’t need her along. One of his parents would go. If Carrie went it would be more painful than she was capable of bearing. She imagined seeing Matt at his hospital, surrounded by the
latest technology and equipment, not to mention teams of specialists. She would quickly realize how out of place she was.

Then there was his family and his girlfriend. He’d said he was not going to marry her, but she had no idea if he’d changed his mind once he returned. No, Carrie was much better off where she was, busy, happy and content with the life she’d chosen. But had she chosen this life or had it been thrust on her? She’d had too much time to think these past days, too many hours in the plane, in a cloudless sky, too much time to ponder what she wanted from life.

She told herself that was enough introspection. It was time to get into action. She called the med-evac pilot then went to see Donny’s family. They were nervous, scared and relieved at the same time. They peppered her with questions, most of which she couldn’t answer.

Will they operate on him?

Will he be alone in the hospital?

How much will it cost?

Who will go with him?

The last one was settled quickly. His mother would go. But she wanted Carrie to go, too.

“Please, Carrie,” Tillie asked. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ve never been farther than Juneau. I wouldn’t know what to do, where to stay, how to get around.”

Carrie couldn’t ignore the troubled look in her eyes. She knew there was room in the plane. She knew it wouldn’t cost any more if she went along. Yes, she had to go. But the same fears bothered her. Where would she stay? How would she get around?
What would she do? She kept these questions to herself and set the date for their departure for the next week.

“D
AD
,” M
ATT SAID
, “I need to talk to you.”

His father took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair behind the large desk in his study. He only went to the hospital once or twice a week now, under orders from his doctor. Matt knew he hated to give up his practice but that he was now reading and writing about his field of reconstructive surgery on his new computer at home.

“What are you doing here?” Eugene asked with a glance at his watch. “I thought you made rounds today.”

“Yes, usually. But…” Matt took a deep breath. What he was going to say was going to disappoint and hurt his father. He would give anything if he didn’t have to tell him, but that wouldn’t be fair, either. He wouldn’t give his own life just so his father wouldn’t be disappointed.

“I’m not going to do the internship,” Matt said.

“What?” The pen flew out of his father’s hand onto the floor. He stood and stared at Matt in disbelief. “But it’s what you’ve always wanted. It’s what you’ve planned and worked for. What happened?”

What happened. He needed to be as honest with his father as possible. And even more important, honest with himself.

“What happened is that I discovered that plastic surgery is not what I want to do.”

“But you just began. You haven’t given it a chance.”

“I can’t do it, Dad. I want to be a family doctor.”

“Family doctor? Why?”

“For one thing I don’t want to live in the city. I want to practice medicine in a small town somewhere.”

“But you’d be setting broken bones and delivering babies and giving out cough syrup. You’d be bored in the first week.”

“You may be right,” Matt conceded, “but I don’t think so. You remember that I did a rotation in family medicine once for three months. I loved it, but I never really considered doing it for good because, you know, I was committed to plastic surgery.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” his father said, sitting down again.

“I knew you’d be disappointed. I’m disappointed, too,” Matt said, taking a seat across from his father. “Disappointed that I can’t follow in your footsteps. Disappointed to have to give up something I started. But when I went back up to Yuma last week and I saw the doctor I worked with and he offered me a job, I knew this was what I wanted to do. They’re building a new hospital, and I ran into one of my patients who remembered me and I looked around and it just felt right to me the way plastic surgery has never felt right to me. As you remember, I passed out the first time I went into the O.R. with you.”

“You were only sixteen,” his father said. “And you haven’t passed out since, have you?”

“No, but I’ve come close. I thought I’d get over it. I thought the rewards of seeing someone’s life change because of the reconstruction I could do would be ample reward for becoming a surgeon, but
it isn’t. As for me, it’s more than that. It’s a lifestyle decision as much as anything else. I … I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but I only hope you will. Maybe not now, but eventually.”

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind? Maybe you just need a break. Maybe you should wait till next year to start this internship. I’m sure I could put in a word, have them hold open your place for a year.”

“No, Dad, I don’t want you to do that. I need to make my own decision. I have made my decision.”

His father nodded reluctantly. Then he drew his eyebrows together. “Does this have anything to do with what happened up there in Alaska?”

“Yes, I think so. There, again, I was essentially practicing family medicine for a few days. Seeing all kinds of problems from broken legs to paralysis. In a small town, you get to know the people when they’re sick and when they’re well. You can treat the whole person. That’s very appealing to me.”