for her child. But Stephanie knew from first-hand experience that the traditional two-parent family didn’t automatically equal a happy childhood. Not when the parents couldn’t find time for their child.
Without thinking, her hand drifted to her round belly. Her child would never suffer for lack of parental attention. She would make sure of it.
After an hour of distraction when he should have been researching, Jason headed downstairs to the E.R. for some advice. His friend Mike had had a similar dilemma only a year ago. Apparently he’d figured things out, since he was now married with a new baby.
He and Mike Tyler had been roommates after Mike had answered his ad for a roommate to share expenses during pre-med. Although neither of them were big conversationalists, after years of rooming, which had lasted through pre-med, medical school and residency, Mike was the closest friend Jason had. Mike had introduced Jason to hiking and rafting all those years ago, giving him an effective outlet for letting off steam and finding an occasional glimpse of inner peace.
Now Mike worked the E.R. at Sheffield Memorial, thriving on the excitement, while Jason preferred the details and intrigue of diagnostics and research.
Both he and Mike had come a long way since they’d had to share one winter coat between the two of them in their younger days.
Last year Mike had married into an instant family of two girls and a boy, along with a beautiful, witty wife who’d just given birth to their son eight weeks ago.
Somehow Mike made it work.
Jason waited while Mike examined a chef’s gashed forefinger and ordered a tetanus shot along with a couple of stitches.
When Mike was finally free, Jason asked, “You up for a hike this weekend? I’ve got some relationship questions to ask you.”
A good, hard climb in the crisp mountain air would clear his head.
“Can’t. I’ve got to take the five-year-old to a birthday party. Tea party theme. The birthday girl’s father has promised grownup drinks for the parents while we wait.” He sighed, but his eyes sparkled with happiness. “The sacrifices of fatherhood.”
Jason couldn’t imagine himself at a little girl’s birthday party, making small talk with other parents. Even the thought of being so domestically entrapped made him fidget.
“We’ve got the waiting room cleared out. Ask me now.”
Jason shifted from foot to foot, then just blurted it out. “When a woman says she needs more, what does she mean?”
“More, huh? That’s a tricky one.” Mike rubbed his chin. “Are we talking about Dr. Montclair?”
Jason chose to ignore the smirk Mike didn’t bother to hide. “Yes. Who else would it be?”
“She strikes me as a straightforward woman. Why don’t you ask her for specifics?”
Jason thought that one over. By his evaluation, their latest conversation hadn’t been too straightforward.
“You’re not much help.”
“Guys generally aren’t when it comes to women. Why don’t you come by the house on Sunday and ask Caroline? She’s good at this sort of thing.”
“Caroline doesn’t like me.”
“She’s forgiven you.” Mike clapped him on the shoulder. “Never tell a pregnant woman she should cut back on the chocolate, even if she should. The closer they get to their due dates, the testier they get.”
“Lesson learned.”
A nurse peeked into the lounge. “Dr. Tyler, we’ve got a patient for you.”
Jason took the stairs two at a time, but the dank, enclosed staircase didn’t give him what he needed.
He needed to work off some excess energy in the fresh air and sunshine. Wide open spaces normally cleared his cramped brain.
For safety reasons Jason never hiked alone. But he was tempted to risk it. That was what women did—made men do foolish things.
No, he wouldn’t risk going it alone with no one to call on for help. No woman was worth being stuck stranded on a mountain with a broken leg. Or a broken heart.
No. Not a broken heart. He would have to love Stephanie for that to happen, and he’d promised long ago to never be that foolish again.
Stephanie’s phone rang, showing Jason’s office number. He never called. He was a face-to-face kind of guy. Warily, she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stephanie, when you said you needed …” He paused, giving Stephanie time to catch up with his one-sided conversation. “What is it you need?”
What should she answer? I need you to show me your heart? I need you to love me? I need you to put me first in your life? “I need you to attend a sensitivity training class.”
“A what?”
“A sensitivity class.”
“Why?”
“You’ve got another complaint filed against you, I’m afraid.” Yes, that sounded nice and businesslike. Stephanie was rather proud of her control.
“So?”
“So the hospital is being very careful about these things nowadays, particularly because of the lawsuit. The class is mandatory.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?”
At the thought of never seeing Jason again Stephanie felt her stomach drop. “No, Jason. Of course not—not you, anyway. But showing that we insist upon a consistent policy will help with the lawsuit and our malpractice insurance. I need you to cooperate with me.”
“What’s the complaint?”
“Mrs. Canover said you were rude to her.”
“Remembering Mrs. Canover, I would have to agree with her.”
“Jason, we’ve discussed this before. A large part of patient care is attitude. We treat the whole patient and the family, not just the illness.”
“No, that’s not in my job description. My job is to find the problem and fix it. Has Mrs. Canover’s son had a relapse? Difficulty breathing? Rash? Fever? Sore throat?”
“No. None of that. Her son is recovering nicely.”
“Then what’s her complaint?”
“Did you really tell her she should stick with growing African Violets instead of children?”
“The woman demanded that I give her three-year-old son allergy shots twice a week rather than getting rid of her house-plants. What would you have said?” Jason had been staggered when the woman had refused to give up the prize-winning African Violets that had been passed down through generations for the health of her son, and hadn’t hesitated to give his opinion.
Frankly,
