anymore. I’ve changed my evil ways.”
Zoey smiled at him and sat her espresso down on the table. “Always being late bothered Elizabeth, you know. She said she could set the clock by your tardiness.”
He hadn’t talked about Elizabeth in so long... Not out loud, anyway. Although, she was always in his thoughts. But actually to talk about her to someone... The wound she left still cut deep and he was always afraid that it would open and bleed again. He’d gotten along without her this past year and it hadn’t been easy, never easy, because he missed her so much that there were still remnants of a physical pain lingering. There hadn’t been a day gone by that he didn’t look at her picture, talk to her, reminisce...
But actually to talk aloud about her... Never. Not even to Abby, Elizabeth’s mother. She watched Maddie while he was at work and there had arisen this unspoken rule between them that Elizabeth’s name was not to be uttered out loud.
“I knew she hated being late, hated me being late. She used to fuss at me for it. I think it was one of the few things we ever really fought about. But I don’t do that anymore, and I’ve got to tell you that being on time is difficult when you don’t have someone behind you to push you into it.”
Zoey took a sip of her espresso and looked over the top of her cup at him. “She was happy in her marriage. She talked about that a lot.”
“So was I. Five years wasn’t long enough.” Future plans they’d made had been cut short by a voracious leukemia. It was the kind of thing no one ever planned for, let alone considered within the realm of possibilities. But Elizabeth had been diagnosed and three months later...
“They were five good years, though, and just think! You have Maddie. How is she, by the way?”
“She’s resilient. Staying with Elizabeth’s mom while I’m working. Being quite the handful most of the time. Lots of opinion. Lots of attitude.”
“She’s about three now, isn’t she? The last time I saw her she was barely more than a baby, and I probably wouldn’t even recognize her now. They do grow up fast, don’t they?”
He gulped down the last of his coffee. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said as he folded his newspaper with the intention of taking it back to work with him. He did that every morning, although he never read it, and usually tossed it away as soon as he was in his office. “Grammy overindulges her, though, and I’m afraid that’s contributing to some of her thinking. She throws tantrums and threatens to go live with her grandma if I don’t do what she wants.”
“Tantrums?” Zoey asked. “Why?”
Daniel grimaced. “It’s difficult for her, going back and forth between her grandmother and me. She’s so young, and her life is so...unsettled. I’m not sure she knows what to count on.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I mean, the poor child can’t even count on seeing me every night because I can’t count on getting home every night. It’s like so much of life is up in the air and there’s nothing I can do to change that. Not for either of us.”
“Then be patient with her,” Zoey said. “She sounds very confused, and I’m sorry to hear that because, from what I remember of Maddie, she was a very sweet child.”
“I know she’s confused. So I’m crossing my fingers and hoping she’ll get through the tantrum stage without it leaving any permanent scars.”
“We all express ourselves in different ways, Daniel. I expect that Maddie’s expressing her confusion the only way she knows how. And I doubt that it will leave scars. Even at three, Maddie’s on her own journey, and this is simply part of it.”
“I know that, and I do understand what she’s going through, but that doesn’t make it any easier on me. And the way Abby spoils her...” He shook his head. “It gets in the way; I think Maddie believes that everyone should treat her the way her grandmother does.”
Zoey smiled. “Aren’t grandmothers supposed to spoil their grandchildren? I always thought that was a God-given right.”
“But Abby goes to the extreme.”
“Or you’re just being overly sensitive to the only way she knows how to express her love. We all do it differently, you know.”
“Maybe that’s the case, because I know she means well. And she loves Maddie. In fact, when it gets right down to it, she’s a wonderful grandmother. But Elizabeth and I talked for hours one night about our hopes and dreams for our daughter, and the way I would raise her once Elizabeth was gone, and it wasn’t by spoiling her the way Abby does. Elizabeth desperately wanted Maddie to grow up strong and independent.”
“I know you’ll take care of Maddie, but I want you to take care of yourself, too. Go on with your life, Daniel. Have fun. Be happy. Find someone to start over with. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Yes, they’d made plans together, but Elizabeth’s plan for him was so difficult.
“Well, I’m sure things will work out in your favor, given enough time. Oh, and maturity on Maddie’s part. I’m confident she will eventually grow out of it.”
Daniel sighed heavily. He knew Abby was trying to replace Elizabeth with Maddie, which was why he hadn’t said anything to her, as Abby’s loss was truly as great as his own. “I’d originally thought about putting Maddie in daycare at the hospital. But I’m a firm believer in family first, and I think Maddie can benefit from her grandmother, if her grandmother eases up a little.”
“Then talk to her, Daniel. Be honest and don’t hold back anything. That’s the only fair thing to do for everybody involved. I mean, I met Abby a few times. She’s a strong lady. Very opinionated. And she dearly loves her granddaughter, which is why I know she’ll listen to you.”
“I hope so, because I think it’s good for both of them to be together, especially now, when the wounds are still so close to the surface.”
“Like I said—have that talk. It will do you both some good.”
“I will. And thanks for the advice. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while and this has been...pleasant.” He smiled, and pushed back from the table. “Look, I’ve got to go. I have three residents and five med students waiting to do rounds with me this morning, then I’ve got a meeting at nine and at least a dozen patients to see, not to mention reading charts, revising orders, et cetera, et cetera...”
“I take it you’re still a hospitalist?”
“Still and always. Private practice isn’t my thing. It’s too confining. I like the variety you get working general duty in a hospital. It keeps you on your toes, and you never get bored.”
“Then private practice bores you?”
“Can’t say one way or another, since I’ve never been in one. But I can’t imagine myself contained for very long in one office. The case work may vary patient by patient but I think that overall it would be too restrictive for me. No, I like the open spaces of the hospital, where I’m free to wander at will.”
“At will?”
“OK. Maybe not at will so much as what the caseload dictates.” He chuckled. “And it dictates pretty loudly sometimes. So, do you get over to the hospital very often?”
