As the plane headed toward the runway, she turned and walked away, and she cried all the way back to her apartment. It had been a ghastly weekend. And when the phone rang, when she got home, she thought it was Cal, and picked it up. But it was Steve from the plane.

“Just remember one thing, Merrie,” he said.

“What's that?” The words had a familiar echo to them.

“How much I love you.” It was exactly what Cal had said the last time she talked to him on Friday.

“I love you too,” she said in a choked voice. “I'm sorry it was such a lousy weekend.” She owed him so much more than that, but it had all been too much for her, and she didn't know what she was going to do about Cal now.

“It wasn't that bad. It takes a little readjusting when we get back together. I'll try and come back in two weeks, if I can. And why don't you try and come home next weekend? We'll get back on track, sweetheart. And if I don't find a job soon, I'll come out and drive a cab if I have to.”

“I wouldn't let you do that,” she said sadly.

“Let's see what happens when Lucas gets back. That's only two more weeks. Maybe I'll just pack up and come out there.” The words sounded like a death knell to her. She would either have to face the music with him, or end it with Cal, and the prospect of doing either was terrifying.

“I love you, Steve,” she said, and meant it this time. She was utterly miserable, and more confused than she'd ever been. And what's more, she knew she deserved to be.

“I love you too, babe,” he said before he hung up. And she sat crying for a while, not sure what to do now.

The next call, an hour later, was from Cal. He sounded a mess, and confessed that it had been a nightmarish weekend for him. He had been going insane thinking about her. He didn't want to tell her how jealous he had been, imagining her in bed with Steve. All he wanted now was to see her.

“Can I come over?” he asked, and she wanted to tell him he couldn't, but she felt the same pull toward him she always did. It was driven more by chemistry than by reason.

“I'm a mess,” she warned. “This has been the worst weekend of my life.”

“Mine too. Let's try and get over it together.” She had no idea what she was going to do when she saw him again, or how she'd feel when she did. But the moment she opened the door to him, she knew. She fell into his arms and dissolved into sobs, clinging to him. And all he could do was kiss her and hold her, and within minutes they were in the bed she had shared with Steve the night before. But she couldn't even think of that now. All she wanted was Cal, as badly as he wanted her, and he took her with all the strength and power of the passion they shared, and they lay together in each other's arms, clinging to each other like two lost souls until morning.





Chapter 16

SO HOW WAS it?” Anna asked Steve on Monday morning when he got in. He had taken a cab from the airport to the hospital, and he looked tired and drawn and, as usual, his clothes were wrinkled.

“How was it?” He looked at her blankly for an instant. “It stank, if you want me to be honest. I don't know what's wrong, but I'd say just about everything is. She acted as though I were a stranger. And when she wasn't refusing to make love with me, she was crying. I had a really fantastic weekend. Thanks for asking.” He looked and sounded exhausted.

“Shit.” Anna looked sorry for him, and wondered if she had made the wrong suggestion when she told him to go out there and surprise her. “What do you think is happening with her?” Anna was intrigued by what he was describing.

“Honestly? I don't know. I think she's working too hard. And maybe she's just getting weird living alone. What do I know?”

There was a question on the tip of Anna's tongue, but she was afraid to ask him. She liked him too much to want to hurt him. But he could see that she had something on her mind, as he poured himself a styrofoam cup full of black coffee.

“What are you not saying to me?” They had come to know each other well in the two months they'd worked together.

“It's probably a really dumb question. I was going to ask if you think she's seeing someone. Maybe she's freaked out about it, and feels guilty.”

“Meredith?” He looked amused. “No way. We've never cheated on each other. I trust her completely. I think our being apart is turning her frigid and neurotic. It's a great combination.”

“Maybe she needs therapy,” Anna said practically.

“Maybe she needs me. And I'm stuck here, working my ass off, with no job to go to in California. It's a real shit situation.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.”

“Thank you, doctor, for the five-cent psychiatry. Now, tell me what happened here this weekend.” He looked grim as they sat down in his office and got down to business.

“Two brain surgeries, a compound fracture of a femur, three head-ons involving a total of thirteen people, and four shootings, two fatalities as a result, the others all went home the next day. And that's about it. Oh, and two sprained ankles.” She reeled them off like three BLTs and two salamis.

“Jesus, are you kidding?”

“Nope. We had a busy weekend. Sounds like more fun than yours though.”

“You're right on that score.” But he felt better that he was back at work now. In some ways, this was saner, and he understood it better. Here at least, he could make a difference.

Anna showed him the charts, and reviewed all her cases with him, and he was impressed by everything she'd done, and grateful for her shoulder to cry on about his lost weekend.

They worked together all afternoon, and did surgery together that night, and on Tuesday morning she went home to her daughter. He was going off duty that night, and the chief resident was taking over for him.

“Do you want to come by for macaroni and cheese and hot dogs?”

“Now there's a memorable combination. How about if I bring some steaks for you and Felicia?”

“We don't need charity, Steve,” she said, looking insulted. “If you want what's on the menu, come. If you want something fancier, go to a restaurant.” She had a lot of pride and a lot of heart, and more balls than most men he knew, and he liked that about her. She wasn't embarrassed about being poor, and she didn't want handouts from anyone.

“I didn't mean to insult your cooking. I love macaroni and cheese,” he said with a look of admiration for her. “What time can I come by?”

“Come whenever you get off work. You can take a shower at my place, if you want, or you can just sit around looking a mess if that feels better. It's strictly come as you are.” He also loved that about her. She didn't put on airs, or expect them from him. She was an honest, straightforward person.

“I'll see you around seven. Can I bring some beer, or will you kick my ass over that too? I just don't happen to love orange juice,” which was all she had had the last time.

“Okay, you can bring beer. But no wine or champagne.” She knew how wealthy he was, because of his wife, and she didn't want to share the wealth with him. In fact, she was uptight about it.

“Do you mind if I come in my limo?”

“Whatever turns you on. Come in your jet plane, if you want.” She was smiling at him, and he knew she had forgiven him for offering to bring steaks. She was a porcupine sometimes, but her inside was pure marsh-mallow.

“Can I land my helicopter on the roof?”

“Oh go fuck yourself, and go back to work,” she growled at him, and went home to Felicia.

And that night, he showed up at her apartment on the West Side at six thirty. The resident had come early for a change, and Steve had used the opportunity to leave while he could, before any new patients came in and he'd wind up staying.

When Anna opened the door for him, she was wearing jeans and a white angora sweater. She looked pretty and soft, and the body that disappeared in scrubs was very much in evidence in the angora. Her jeans looked like they were wallpapered to her, and the sweater was molded to her breasts in a way that was very distracting. Her hair was down, and she was wearing a pair of comfortable old slippers. And Felicia was hopping around the room in a pair of clean pink flannel pajamas. And for once the cockroaches had disappeared. The landlord had “exterminated” them a few days before, which Anna claimed usually lasted about ten minutes.

But in spite of the simple fare, the dinner she made for him was delicious. The macaroni and cheese was good, the hot dogs were huge, and she had made corn-bread. He had brought two six-packs of beer, so he could leave one for her, and a chocolate cake that had looked good to him at the deli.

“You don't have to eat it,” he teased, “if you feel like I'm buying you.”

“I will!” Felicia chimed in.

“I'll help you,” Steve said, helping her to a big piece, as Anna grinned at him. He was always nice to her daughter, and she was sorry for him that he didn't have his own children. She wondered about Meredith sometimes, what kind of woman she really was. She had the feeling at times that Steve had a lot of illusions about her.

Steve gave Anna a piece of the chocolate cake, too, and they all agreed it was delicious.

At eight o'clock Anna put Felicia to bed, and Steve volunteered to read her a story, while Anna did the dishes. And by the time she was through, Felicia was sound asleep, and Steve had come back to the tiny kitchen.

“What did you read her?” Anna asked with curiosity. Felicia had a number of favorites.

“One of my medical textbooks. I figured you'd want me to influence her early.”

“Very funny,” she said, as she dried her hands on a clean towel. Everything in the apartment was threadbare, but spotless. She was immaculate, and had managed to turn the place into a cozy home for them, which had been a real challenge. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the rooms were small, and they looked out on another ugly building. It seemed light-years away from his apartment, but Anna had never seen it.

He handed her another beer, and they sat down on the couch, talking and drinking. They talked about the hospital, as they always did, and then they talked about Puerto Rico, and she admitted that she missed it.

“I miss my family, my friends. I miss a lot of things.” And she talked about her dreams then. She still wanted to go to a Third World country one day, and help people who were in greater need than the kids in the gangs they saw constantly in the trauma unit. “Maybe someday,” she said, as she set the bottle of beer down on her coffee table.

“All I want to do is to get to California one of these days,” he said, “that's about as Third World as it gets for me. You're a lot braver than I am.”

“I'mjust not as spoiled,” she teased him. She always insisted that she didn't care about material things, but like everyone else, she did, to some extent, just not as much as some of the people they knew, or even himself, or Merrie. Sometimes she tried to make him feel guilty, but he didn't.

“You're so damn politically correct, you make me sick sometimes,” he said, with a grin. He felt relaxed with her, and very happy. The sting of the disastrous weekend in California had begun to dim for him. And he was beginning to think that maybe it hadn't been quite as awful as he first thought it. But for once, he didn't discuss Meredith with her. They just talked about themselves. She talked about Yale, and about her dreams for Felicia.

“I want her to be a lawyer. They make more money than we do.”

“My garbage man makes more money than we do. And by the way, I thought you disapproved of making too much money.”

“Not for my daughter,” she smiled with good humor. She was a good mother, and a good person, and Steve liked her. Besides, she was beautiful and sexy and easy to be with.

“So how come you don't have a boyfriend?” he asked her after a while, and she smiled at him. They had a way of putting each other on the spot and asking tough questions. But they both gave each other honest answers.

“I don't have time. I work too hard. Besides, I haven't met anyone I cared about in years. All the guys I meet are gay, assholes, or married.”

“That sounds appealing,” he said, relaxing on her couch. “What's wrong with gay guys?” he teased her.

“I hate sharing my clothes with the guys I go out with. They usually look better in them than I do.”

“That wouldn't be easy.” He paid her a backhanded compliment and she smiled. She enjoyed being with him. “Well, that takes care of the gay guys. And I guess assholes are a little tough, but interesting sometimes. They have a certain charm, you'll have to admit. What about married?”