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  "You'll be so good with that left hand," Denise says as she leans in and tweaks his nose, "that you'll be switch hitting this baseball season."

  "What's switch hitting?" Sam asks as he takes a bite of bacon.

  "It's where you can hit both left and right handed," I tell him.

  "That would be cool," he says, looking far more serious as he takes his fork up again in his left hand and navigates it through the eggs. "Will Holly come watch some of my games?

  I blink in surprise at the innocent and completely unprovoked question. When I glance over at Denise, she gives me a knowing smile. We talked the other day about Holly while Sam was taking a nap. I told her everything about Holly's father--who she called a slime-bag prick--and what Holly did to get away from him and his evil ways. Denise remembered well my relationship with Holly in high school. She was only two years older than me, living at home while she attended a local community college. Holly was a frequent visitor at our house when we were together, and she and Denise had become close. When Holly broke up with me, Denise never had bitter feelings toward her the way I did. In fact, she had told me she was convinced there was something nefarious going on we didn't know about because that would be the only reason Holly would break up with me.

  Me, being the dumbass that I was at eighteen, couldn't see it and wasn't as open minded about the situation as Denise had been.

  Now, she is sort of enjoying rubbing my nose in the pile of hindsight. But that's okay by me... I'm happy to know that Denise has been right about Holly all these years.

  Denise's lips curve into a smirk and she nods her head toward Sam, indicating that I need to address the "Holly situation" with him.

  "Holly might visit us in New York during your baseball season," I tell him carefully. "I'm sure she'd love to come to one of your games."

  "Will we come back to visit her?" he asks, even as his brow is furrowed in concentration on his eggs.

  "Maybe," I tell him. "You want to visit Holly again?"

  "She's nice," he says absently, now finding his eggs a bit more interesting than talking about yucky girls.

  "Hey Sam," I say gently but with enough firmness to get his attention. His eyes come up to mine, his fork stilled on the plate. "You know Holly and I use to be really good friends a long time ago, right?"

  He nods at me, but not clearly understanding why this is an important subject.

  "Well... I like Holly a lot. And she likes me, and she really likes you. So, she's thinking about moving to New York... so we can see a lot more of her."

  "Cool. She can come to all of my games then," Sam says, and then the subject is immediately forgotten as he turns back to his plate.

  I glance over at Denise, and she's clearly enjoying my awkwardness in trying to explain that I have a serious girlfriend to my child. She gestures with her hand toward me to keep the conversation rolling, but before I can even think about what to say next, Sam turns back to me.

  "Will she move in with us?" he asks suddenly. "The way David lives with Mommy at our house?"

  David is the man that Bonnie has been seeing for almost two years now. He moved in about six months ago, and he's a pretty decent dude. And I have to give him and Bonnie credit... they sat down with me and asked if it was all right first. But I had been around him enough at Sam's various functions to know that first, he was a good guy, and second, that he loved Sam and Sam loved him in return. They haven't discussed marriage, but I'm sure it's on the horizon.

  "I don't know," I tell Sam truthfully, because Holly and I didn't talk about that. If I had my heart's desire, fuck yeah... she'd move in with me. But I don't know what she wants. "It depends on where she gets a job."

  If she gets a job, I think dismally to myself. I want her in New York like yesterday, but I recognize this could take quite a while to make the transfer. We talked well into the night about what opportunities there may be for her. She'd prefer an emergency room setting, but those options could be limited. She'd take a private practice position though, if she had to. I told her that I wanted her to wait for the perfect job, even if it killed me to be away from her a little bit longer.

  "Well, it would be cool if she did," Sam says. "Because Mommy was really happy when David moved in, and I know you'd be really happy if Holly lived with you."

  "Out of the mouths of babes," Denise murmurs softly with a gentle gaze at Sam. We seem to say that a lot about that child of mine.

  I swallow hard, because it's amazing to me how a child's pure soul can see through to things that we may be unwilling or unable to recognize. Sam takes a last bite of his eggs, and I nudge him on the shoulder. "Okay... how about you go get cleaned up. We need to get packed soon so Aunt Denise can take us to the airport."

  "Okay," Sam says as he scoots away from the table.

  As he trots down the hallway, I call after him, "And don't forget to brush your teeth."

  He doesn't respond but I hear him go into the bathroom, so I know he's doing his dreaded duty.

  "That kid is pretty amazing," Denise says as she stands from the table to clear the plates. I pull my own back closer to me, intent on finishing my breakfast.

  "Pretty close to perfect," I agree.

  Denise scrapes the remaining amount of food from the plates into the garbage can and starts to rinse them. I watch her silently, a thought bubbling in my head. We had always been close growing up--even closer when our parents died. Even though she's only two years old than me, and we were both adults when our parents died, she couldn't help but take on sort of a mothering role with me.

  "Let me ask you something," I say after I chew a bite of eggs.

  "What's that?" she asks without turning to look around at me, and instead opening the dishwasher.

  "Do you think this is all too sudden? With Holly?"

  "I don't," she says firmly. "You two were practically babies when you fell in love, and some would scoff that those feelings could carry over, but I disagree."

  Placing the last plate, she leaves the dishwasher open until I can finish my food but turns to face me, leaning back against the sink counter. Taking a towel, she wipes her hands. "I think young love... first love... it's the truest form there is. It's pure and uncorrupted by all the dark things we learn about later in life. I think it would only be perfectly natural for both of you to remember those feelings and fall to them pretty quickly. It was good stuff, right?"

  Images of Holly and me together in high school flash before me. Holding hands while we walked, her laying her head in my lap while we studied on the Quad outside, long conversations on the phone late into the night, warmth and security from the way she would look at me, the sweet way we would make out, and the even sweeter way we had sex when we finally got up the mutual nerve to go all the way.

  No... it wasn't good. It was fucking amazing.

  Those memories... feelings... experiences. They are all still there. They've been revived... bolstered by our new experiences this week.

  "It feels right to you, doesn't it?" Denise asks.

  I give her a wide smile as I stand from the table, taking my plate over to the sink. "Yeah... it feels unbelievably right. I actually feel complete."

  Denise intercepts me, takes the plate from my hand. "Then I expect we will be having a wedding before too long."

  "Whoa... wait a minute," I say quickly as I hold my hands up with a laugh. "Who said anything about marriage?"

  "I did, you fool," she says as she puts my plate in the dishwasher and closes it.

  "Just because you think--"

  "Tim... baby bro... you are built for marriage. You are the type of man that will love unconditionally and with his entire being once you find that one person who's worthy of it. Bonnie, while I adore her, wasn't the woman for you. Holly is. I know this, and you know this. I will lay money on it that you two will be married before the year is out."

  I just stare at her with my mouth hanging open, and yet... I can't find anything within myself that wants to argue with her. T
he image of Holly in a wedding dress... Holly pregnant... Holly holding our baby.

  Fuck, I want that.

  And I want it bad.

  Chapter 10

  Holly

  I flip off the mini-recorder and set the last medical chart beside me on my couch. When I finished my shift this afternoon, I tiredly realized I had been so busy that I had not finished dictating all of my notes for the cases I had handled in the emergency room, which meant a shit pot full of work for me this evening.

  But it's okay. It's something that goes along with the territory of being a doctor. Your work is seemingly never done, and it's not all adrenaline-filled cases. Some of it is just plain old, boring paperwork that I've come to accept is the trade-off for being able to have a career that I adore.

  What would make this evening nicer, even with having to work, is if there was a certain hot firefighter who could sit on the couch with me. Maybe he would be watching sports while I quietly worked, and when I was finished, he would pounce on me. This is a nice dream, and one that I hope will be true one day.

  I miss Tim badly. He's only been gone for two weeks. I foolishly thought for a few days that the ache would subside, but it hasn't. If anything, it's grown worse as we bravely find ways to stay connected so that our bond continues to grow stronger. We talk on the phone every day. It depends on when he's working and when I'm working, but we make it work. We've been able to Skype a few times, and I even spent the majority of one of those sessions talking to Sam about how badly he wants a dog but his mom and dad won't let him.

  "Mom and Dad are mean and won't let me have a dog," he'd whined to me. I could see Tim sitting behind him, and he rolled his eyes.

  "Awww... they're not being mean, Sam," I told him empathetically. "It's just a really hard time now with your dad living in an apartment."

  "But I could walk him every day," he says desperately.

  "But you're not there every day," I point out to him. "However, I bet there will come a day when you will be able to get a dog. You just have to be patient about it, buddy."

  It was a fine line to walk--commiserating with him without undermining his parents--but I think I managed well, and his big grin into the camera before he said goodbye to me told me that he really did like me. When he told me he couldn't wait to see me again, well... that was just the best ever.

  And I really enjoyed my Skype sessions with Tim on the nights that Sam stayed with his mom. We had inadvertently ventured into interesting territory.

  "I miss you so much," I whined to him one night. "My poor vibrator is on its last leg."

  Tim groaned, and his eyes were tortured. "Damn baby... you're killing me here just imagining that."

  "Hmmm," I mused. "I bet we can do better than just 'imagining' that."

  I then proceeded to show him how much I missed him. He, in turn, reciprocated, so I was well aware of how much he missed me.

  I contacted a headhunter that specializes in medical placements in New York but so far, there's been nothing available in a hospital setting. Tim has told me to take my time with my search, but it's discouraging and I'm lonely, and I really don't want to wait. I've even considered not only private practice, but also perhaps contract work or a teaching post. Anything, really, that will get me back to New York and Tim.

  I've let the hospital administration at Tulane know of my plans because I don't want them to be caught shorthanded. I've even encouraged them to start looking for a replacement, knowing that I might short change myself on a job here until I can find something in New York. But deep down...there's a tiny part of me that kind of hopes they do find someone quickly so that I'm forced out. That would mean an immediate move to New York, which is doable for me. I've got a healthy savings account, and I could live cheaply there while I continue to look for something. It's not the ideal situation, but at this point, I'm letting my heart start to direct my moves, which I know isn't the soundest way to let a major life change take place.

  There is one other possibility though.

  It's something I've toyed with, but keep rejecting time and time again. However, every day that passes with no job prospects, the idea starts to look more appealing. It would mean reaching past my walls that I erected long ago. It would mean opening myself up to my father.

  I could ask for his help in finding me something. He has many prominent contacts in the medical community throughout the city. He has pull and leverage. I could swallow the acid that churns in my stomach over asking for his help, and just bite the bullet to do it.

  In fact, I reason to myself, I could even justify it by the mere fact that he owes me. He owes me for all the wretched things he did to Tim and me so long ago, and it would almost be poetic justice if I used him to help me get back to Tim.

  Yeah... justice would be served.

  Without another moment's hesitation, I pick up my phone and dial my parents' number. My mom answers on the second ring. "Hello."

  "Hi Mom," I say casually, which is sort of hard to pull off. I almost never call them, mainly because my mom still calls me at least once a week, and it lets me feed into the carefully constructed cool relationship I've nurtured over the years. This extended naturally to my mother, who not only supported my father when he threw Tim out of our house, but who fought against me tooth and nail right alongside my father when I wanted to leave Columbia. She picked which corner she wanted to do battle in, and it wasn't mine.

  I do believe this may be something she's regretted to some extent over the years, as she's watched us all drift further and further apart, but I don't think she knows how to fix the problem. Hell, I don't know that it can be fixed, but still... she calls me routinely and I will have to say it's because of her efforts that I haven't completely cut ties.

  "Holly," she exclaims happily. "What a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

  "I'm good," I tell her. "Tired... had a forty-eight hour shift and still doing some work. But good."

  "Life of a doctor," she quips. "It's the price you pay for being given all that talent and ability."

  "That's one way to look at it," I say with a smile on my face.

  And then... awkward silence, because I've actually forgotten how to make small talk with my mother. At this point, I suppose I could ask her how she's doing. I could even extend a feeler out to ask how Dad is doing, not that I really care all that much. But honestly... it feels deceptive, so I just decide to go for it.

  "Listen... I've decided to move back to New York, and I want to know if there's any pull Dad might have with one of the hospitals that could get me in the door. I don't care which borough."

  "Oh my God," my mother breathes into the phone, pure joy in her voice. "That's wonderful. I'm so happy you're coming back home. Wait a minute... let me put your father on the phone, and he can--"

  "No," I say quickly. "No, I don't want to talk to him. If you could just pass it along to him and ask if he can check around."

  "But Holly," she says admonishingly, "he's your father. He'll be thrilled, and this could be a step toward repairing your relationship with him."

  "I don't want to repair my relationship with him," I say sternly. "He ruined it by what he did."

  "Honey... that was so long ago," she chides.

  "And yet, it still affects me," I tell her. "What he did was wrong on so many levels, and never once has he ever apologized. And you know why, Mom? Because he's not sorry. Because he's a mean-spirited bully and bigot, and that is not the man I used to look up to."

  My mom actually gasps into the phone, but I work up a full head of steam. "He ruined it, Mom. This is on him, not me. He's not the type of man I want in my life, and when I get married and have kids one day, he's not the type of man I want my children looking up to."

  "Holly," my mom growls into the phone. "That's enough."

  I take a deep breath and let it out, my anger spent quickly. I pull myself together... attempt to be mature. In a gentler voice, I say, "I'm sorry. Not for the things I said, but that it upsets you
. I didn't mean to do that. But that's the way I feel, and it won't change."

  My mom is silent for a moment, and then she says softly, "You might find... if you just gave him a chance... that your father has done some changing. Maybe he has regrets over what happened."

  I scoff. "I've not seen that."

  "Because you never give him a chance. You won't talk to him."

  Guilt courses through me, for the first time since I cut ties. I have always been so adamantly proud of the stance I've taken, but is it possible... just possible... that I've erected such a barrier around me that I've left no room for an opening by which my father could talk to me about this?

  The thought makes me a little sick to my stomach. Sick over the thought of actually discussing such an unpleasant subject with him, and sick over the fact that maybe I've denied him an opportunity to be forgiven.

  Shaking my head, I buck up my resolve and say, "Look... Mom. Just forget that I called. Don't ask Dad to step in and ask around for me. I'll figure something out on my own. I need to go."

  "Holly... no, wait. He'd be glad to do it. Forget the other things I've said. Let him do this for you--"

  "I'm sorry," I cut in on her. "I really need to go. I'll talk to you soon."

  I can hear the fading voice of my mom calling my name again as I pull the phone away from my ear and disconnect the call.

  For some reason, tears well up in my eyes. Maybe it's because I'm now thinking about a future with Tim, and with that comes thoughts of a family, and what family really means.

  All of my bitter feelings over the years have been rooted in anger toward my father, over what he did to Tim and me. But now, for the first time, I'm feeling melancholy over the fact that I not only lost Tim, but I really also lost my family as well.

  Chapter 11

  Tim

  Fuck, I'm exhausted. We just got back from a 2nd Alarm Assignment in a high-rise necessitating five engine companies, two ladder companies, two battalion chiefs, a rescue battalion chief, a safety battalion chief, and tactical support units.

  In other words, it was a major fucking mess.

  The good news is that we got the fire contained pretty quickly, although it took the better part of half a day to get all the hot spots fully extinguished. The bad news is that I am so tired as I enter the last day of my three-day shift that I can't even muster up the strength to call Holly to check in.