ADRENALINE: New 2013 edition (12 page)

Despite her athletic build, Laura couldn’t skate that well, but this worked to Doug’s advantage. He skated backwards, relying on his intramural hockey skills, and held her hands. Frequently he would have to stop to avoid hitting someone on the crowded ice, and Laura would plow into him, laughing all the way. Several times, she even made Doug lose his balance, and they both went down in a sliding heap. Normally he would’ve been embarrassed, but that night he didn’t even notice.

He drove her home afterwards in his 1968 VW beetle with the broken heater. They both froze, but neither seemed to mind. She invited him up to her apartment for some hot chocolate to
warm up. They talked the night away until three in the morning before either of them noticed the time. Embarrassed, Doug got up to leave. She tugged on his shirt and wouldn’t let him go unless he promised to come back for breakfast; she said she made killer pancakes. He promised. They shared a long goodnight kiss and finally said goodbye. Doug walked outside into the night oblivious to the cold, his head spinning and lips tingling but feeling happier than he had ever been. The crescent moon smiled and the stars winked at him as he skipped to his car. He went home but couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t wait to see her again. They saw each other constantly over the next two weeks, and separations longer than several hours were painful. By the end of the school year, they were engaged.

The Stairmaster chimed, proclaiming he had reached his goal, and Doug was yanked back to the present. The emotive part of his brain was still resonating with the memory of Laura, basking in the afterglow of their newfound love, and he was reluctant to relinquish the feeling. He hadn’t thought about their first date in a long time. The pleasant memory made their current troubles all the more strange and difficult to understand. What was happening with their marriage now was hard to put a finger on. Doug wondered if the problem was simply due to the hectic nature of their lives with two children in school and a preschooler. But he wasn’t sure this was enough to explain it. Other things came to mind.

Laura was a stay-at-home mom who excelled at it, but she had a strong work ethic, possibly the result of a father who had abandoned the family early in Laura’s life. She tended to be extremely sensitive to the other women around her who had jobs. She felt they viewed her as a lazy wife who sat at home having coffee with friends, watching soaps, and chatting on the telephone. Being a doctor’s wife didn’t help because she felt guilty that she
could
stay at home with the kids, and the family could survive on one income.

To assuage her guilt over being a stay-at-home mom, Laura volunteered for everything from homeroom mother for the boys in school to assistant soccer coach to Cub Scout den mother. If there was a job opening for a parent—the more onerous the better, no money please—Laura was always first in line. She managed to squeeze in delivering Meals-on-Wheels to the elderly shut-ins between shuttling the kids back and forth to activities.

In addition to being an avid volunteer, Laura lacked the capacity to say “no” to anyone asking a favor. If her friends asked her if she’d mind feeding their dog while they went away for the week, she’d respond, “No problem. I’m home all day anyway.” Unfortunately, she made it sound like she had nothing to do and that she’d be thrilled to help out, so that her friends did wind up taking advantage of her.

Ironically, Laura wound up working twice as hard as any “working” mother. Sadly, no one realized this except Doug. The neighbors and Laura’s friends and acquaintances still thought she had it pretty easy. After all, she found time to volunteer for all sorts of things; she
must
be bored. Even Laura herself didn’t perceive herself as taxed to the limit; her sense of work ethic/guilt clouded her view.

Doug, however, realized his wife frequently bit off more than she could chew, and sometimes he and the kids got caught in the crossfire. Their lives seemed to be an endless array of activities centered around the three children. There were constant soccer/baseball/swim team practices and games, homework, science fair projects, piano lessons, cub scouts, etc. Laura orchestrated the scheduling of all these activities with a precision the Pentagon would have been proud of. Doug plugged into the scheme of things whenever he was available. Their conversations consisted mostly of planning the logistics of the busy evening or weekend. Minor concerns were often left unaddressed until they became unbearable and blossomed into full-fledged shouting matches.

Doug was startled out of his introspection by a voice and a blur of blond hair coming from the Stairmaster to his right.

“Hey, you come here too!” The voice and blond hair belonged to a surgical intensive care nurse at Mercy.

“Yeah, uh, you work at Mercy, don’t you?” Doug managed to get out. He was horrible with names. They both had to talk louder than Doug was comfortable with to be heard above WTPA, the heavy metal station cranked up on the gym’s sound system.

“Yep, I’m Jenny Stuart. I work in SICU. I just joined Gold’s a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hi, I’m Doug Landry. I work in anesthesia.”

“I know who you are. I was there the other night when you brought that ruptured triple-A in. That was some case!”

“I remember you now. You look, uh, sort of different,” Doug stammered.
God, she’s pretty!

“Different? Hmmm. Now there’s a compliment.”

“No, no. I mean your hair and all. I just didn’t recognize you, that’s all. You look great.” Doug felt himself blush, and they both laughed.

“How’s he doing?” Doug continued quickly, eager to get back on safer ground. “He was pretty sick when they brought him to us—no blood pressure—the typical abdominal aortic aneurysm. Bled like stink when they opened him.”

“He’s doing really well. In fact, he’s being transferred out tomorrow. You do good work, Doctor.” She punctuated this with a big smile as she gazed a bit too long into his eyes.

“We got pretty lucky with him. I didn’t think he was gonna make it there for awhile. Must’ve had good nursing care postop.” Doug smiled back and returned an equally long stare. He’d never seen her with her hair down or dressed in a tight gym suit before. She was slim, about five-foot-four, with shoulder-length blond hair and a body Demi Moore would have envied. He had trouble keeping his eyes on her face as they talked.

“So, how long have you been coming here?” she asked.

“Oh, a couple of years now. It’s a nice gym and right on the way home from the hospital.” Funny, he thought, her lips are so full. He never cared much for full lips, but suddenly found them irresistible.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“Just down Route Thirty, three or four miles down the road in Heatherfield.”

“Which days do you usually come to the gym?”

“Kinda whenever I can. I try to get in two or three times a week, although I do come in pretty regular Friday nights after work.”
Why is she asking so many personal questions and why am I so willing to answer?
He felt sort of guilty talking to her just after he had been reminiscing about Laura, but the twenty-year-old fading memory couldn’t compete with the here and now in the flesh. Doug’s Stairmaster program was over again. He quickly punched in another ten minutes and adjusted it to Level One so he wouldn’t get too out of breath.

“I used to belong to a Gold’s in California,” she said. “They’re all over the place out there.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re pretty serious about your exercise.”

“Whatever do you mean?” She flashed another big smile at Doug, who could feel his heart accelerating even though he had turned down his machine.

“You have a really nice figure.”

“Well, thank you. I do believe you’re getting better at giving compliments. You look like you’re in pretty good shape too.” Her eyes slid up and down his torso and legs.

“Naw, not really.” Doug felt the blood threatening to return to his face. “I don’t exactly belong at Gold’s. You know, the image is serious body builder and all that. Look at the guys around here—they’re animals.” Doug nodded toward Mule and Chowder. As if on cue, Mule let out an inhuman scream as he successfully squatted over five hundred pounds, the bar literally bending over his
shoulders. “I just come here because it’s the only gym on the way home from work. I do some basic weight stuff to keep my back in shape. But, muscle-head I’m not.”

“Coulda fooled me.” She lit up her smile again. “Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked coyly.

“Sure,” Doug answered, feeling a bit sheepish. He figured she would ask if he were married now and spoil all the fun.

“Why did you go into medicine?” she asked, her face turning serious.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But if you want to hear it—”

“Please,” she said quickly and then did something with her face, some sort of adorable pleading look, that made Doug wonder if he’d be able to refuse her anything.

“OK. I started off as a chemical engineering major at Cornell.” He didn’t feel it necessary to add that Laura was a pharmacology major there also.

“Engineering?”

“Yeah, I got my degree in it. I was always into math and physics. Nice and clean—no emotional stuff to get tangled up in.”

“I always knew you were weird,” she said and laughed.

“But then in my senior year my dad got sick and was diagnosed with colon cancer.” She winced in response. Doug couldn’t help but notice that even her pained look was cute. “So I decided I would go to medical school, learn all I could, and rid the world of cancer.”

“So did you?”

“No, but thanks for playing along.” Doug stopped climbing and focused on her. “My dad died when I was a second year medical student. I wasn’t very far in my training and had little extra to offer him.” Doug recalled the bitter helplessness of watching his dad wither away, consumed by the cancer.

She stopped climbing and returned his gaze. “I’m sure you were more helpful than you realized.” They both stood silent for a moment looking at each other.

Doug shook his head to break the spell. “Anyway I got sidetracked into clinical medicine somewhere along the line and then gravitated to anesthesia. I haven’t looked back since.”

“Wow,” she said and pushed a stubborn lock of hair out of her eyes.

“So, you used to live in California?” The more he looked at her, the prettier she got. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew she was beautiful. No, exotic-looking. Maybe it was the high cheekbones? Some sort of Slavic background?

“I just moved back East three months ago,” she said. “Messy divorce and all that.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Doug lied. He felt self-conscious; he looked around to see if any of Laura’s friends were there. He didn’t see any.

“Don’t be. I’m not—definitely for the best. That’s what I’m doing back in good ol’ P–A. I grew up outside of Philly. Figure I’d make a clean break and a fresh start. Mercy had the opening I was looking for.”

“Yeah, it’s a good hospital. I’ve been there about twelve years.”

“Wow, twelve years! You don’t look that old, Dr. Landry.” Long stare again.

“Call me Doug.” Landry glanced at his feet, suddenly afraid that he was about to stumble off the Stairmaster. He also glanced at the clock on the wall.
Shit! I gotta go soon
.

“Sure, Doug.” Her voice lingered a bit over his name. “Or maybe it’s
Doogie
Howser?”

“Uh, not hardly. You don’t look so old yourself.”

“Old enough,” she said and started to laugh lightly.

Doug laughed too, and then said, “So, what happened in California, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t mean to pry.”

“No, not at all,
Doug
. I guess we just got married too young. I was still in nursing school, and Paul was a local musician when we met.”

“Oh, what’d he play?”

“Piano, mostly, but some guitar and trumpet, too. He’s really quite talented—or was. He’s also quite the bullshitter.”

“Ah, I know the type.”

“Well, I fell hard for him and bought into all the bullshit. You know—the record contract, TV appearances, Grammys. Paul used to dream big. We got married, both thinking success was right around the corner.”

“What happened?” Doug asked although he was having trouble concentrating on the story; her rhythmic pumping and perfume were hypnotic.

“Well, the dream was just that—a dream. When his career didn’t take off as fast as he thought it should, he started drinking—first just at the clubs, then at home, too.”

“Sounds rough.”

“Yeah, and he began to spend more time with the college groupies. It was as if he thought I felt ashamed of him, that he failed me. I never thought that—I loved him—I was just happy to be with him.” Her cheerful expression gave way to a wistful, pained look.

Doug genuinely felt sorry for her and wished he could comfort her in some way. “Some guys just figure they’re not worthy of real love unless they earn it somehow,” he said. “Sounds dumb, I know.”

“If he couldn’t be successful at his music, he tried to demonstrate his success in other areas—with the women. I got jealous, and the marriage started to crumble.”

“That’s a really sad story.”

“Like I said, that’s all behind me. We’ve been apart for two years now. So, how about you, Doug?”

“I, uh, just lead a perfectly boring life.”
With my wife and three kids. Now’s the time to tell her, Doug
. But he didn’t feel like mentioning this. He was enjoying the flirtation too much.

“What do you do for fun?” she asked.

“Fun, well, I like to play tennis. I play over at the racquet club, and I like to hike. There are some nice mountains just south of here.”

“I love to hike, too. You’ll have to show me those mountains sometime. Tennis, I’m not so good at.”

“Anyone can learn.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Wow, a fellow outdoors-person. It would be fun to show you those mountains sometime.” Doug glanced at his watch. “Oh boy. Listen I gotta run and . . .” He almost said pick up Steven for Cub Scouts. “See you round the hospital, Jenny.”

“When are you on call next?” she asked. “I work mostly nights.”