The Ranch (16 page)

“You do that very well,” he said admiringly. It was very unusual for him to go out with women with young children. Most of the time he preferred women who were too involved in their careers to marry or have kids, which was exactly what Zoe had been when he met her. And then she had stunned him by adopting a baby. It hadn't been at all what he'd expected of her, and it had somehow altered their relationship, but he still found her agonizingly attractive, and he would have liked to spend a lot more time with her. But she was too busy with her practice most of the time, and now with the child, so he did the best he could, and accepted crumbs from her table. “I haven't seen you in two weeks,” he complained as he started his dark green Jaguar.

“I've been busy,” she said simply. “I have a lot of very sick patients,” she said matter-of-factly. She had lost several of late, and it had been very depressing for her because she always got so close to them, particularly in the end, when it was always so touching, and so pathetic.

“I have very sick patients too,” he said, sounding mildly irritated, as he headed toward downtown, and through the Haight just below her.

“Yes, but you have partners.”

“True. You ought to think about that some time. I don't see how you manage the way you do. You're going to get sick one of these days, a bad case of hepatitis, or worse yet, get AIDS from one of your patients.”

“That's a pleasant thought,” she said, looking away from him, out the window.

“It happens,” he said seriously, “you should think about what you're doing. There's no point being a hero, or a martyr.”

“I have thought about it, and this is where I belong. They need me, Dick.”

“So does everyone else. So does your daughter. You need to take more time off.” He was the second person who had told her that that night, and she glanced over at him, wondering why he had said it. He wasn't usually that solicitous, or that concerned. He wasn't much of a nurturer, although he was a doctor. “You look tired, Zoe,” he said simply, and then he patted her hand with a smile. “A nice dinner out will do you good. You probably never eat either.” She couldn't even remember if she'd had breakfast or lunch that day, she had hit the deck running the moment she got to the office. Most of her days were like that.

But when they got to the restaurant, she was inclined to agree with him. It was so pretty and well lit, and the table was so inviting that she was sorry she didn't see him more often. He ordered wine for both of them, and they decided to split the rack of lamb, and they ordered soufflé for dessert. It was certainly a far cry from the leftover hamburgers she ate at home off of Jade's plate, or the cold pizza she found in the fridge at the office.

“This is lovely,” she said, looking grateful.

“I've missed you,” he said simply, reaching out for her hand. But she wasn't in the mood for romance, and there was something about his arrogance that always kept her from falling for him, although she found him physically attractive. But, tonight, in spite of the candlelight and the wine, she was inclined to keep her distance.

“I've been busy,” she said, explaining her two-week absence.

“Too much so. What about a weekend somewhere? I've rented a house at Stinson Beach for July and August. What about coming over for a weekend?”

She smiled at him then. She knew him better than he thought. “With Jade?” she asked, and he hesitated, and then nodded.

“If you prefer, but it might do you good to get away from her too.”

“I'd miss her,” she said, and then laughed at herself. “I'd probably be an awful guest right now, I'm so tired I'd probably sleep all weekend.”

“I might think of ways to wake you,” he said, looking alarmingly sensual as he raised his glass to her, and then sipped it.

“I believe you would, Dr. Franklin.” She smiled at him again, and the evening sped by with talk of the hospital they both practiced in, the politics that were typical of all major teaching hospitals, and several intriguing rumors. They each talked about their specialties, and he described a new technique he had perfected which was already going into textbooks. He was good at what he did, and not particularly modest, but Zoe didn't mind it. It made for fascinating conversation, and she liked talking medicine with him. Although when she said as much to Sam from time to time, he accused her of being too single-minded, and said he hated going out to dinner with female doctors and discussing liver transplants over pasta. He thought she should expand her horizons, besides which, he couldn't stand Dick Franklin. He thought he was impossible and pompous.

Zoe and Dick both had cappuccino after the soufflé was gone, and it was almost eleven o'clock by then, and Zoe didn't want to admit it to him, but she was exhausted. It was all she could do to stay awake at the table. And she was planning to do rounds at seven o'clock the next morning, which meant she'd be up at five or five-thirty with Jade. She got up with her every morning, and played with her before she went to work. It was her favorite time of day with her baby.

But Dick didn't even seem to notice how tired she was when he took her home and reminded her again about the weekend in Stinson. “Let me know when it works for you,” he said, with a warm look at her. “I'm at your disposal.”

“I have to line up my relief doc first, and make sure the au pair can stay over on Sunday.” Despite teasing him, she would never have inflicted Jade on him for an entire weekend. She would have driven him crazy, even though she was a good baby. But he wanted to listen to classical music, make love in the afternoon, and discuss surgical techniques with an equal, not change diapers, or wipe applesauce off a baby. And Zoe understood that. “I'll see when they're both free, and I'll call you.” They were sitting in his car outside her house, he had wanted to take her to his place first, in Pacific Heights, but he could see as they drove across town that she was already yawning, and she apologized for being such bad company, as he drove past his place toward Edgewood.

“The trouble is you're not,” he said gently, looking longingly up at her house, but he wasn't sure about tackling the child and the au pair, and he knew Zoe preferred to go to his place. “Every time I see you, I want to spend more time with you, and you're always too busy.” He understood that about her life though. He himself had a busy schedule with an enormous number of patients to see, he was considered the preeminent breast surgeon at UC, and he still managed to lecture all over the country.

“Maybe that's what keeps things interesting,” Zoe said, smiling at him, as she sat in the comfortable car, watching him. He was incredibly smooth and good-looking, and yet, although she enjoyed his company a great deal, she knew she could never love him. “Maybe if we spent more time together, I'd bore you.”

But he laughed at her when she said it. “I don't think that's very likely.” She was one of his favorite women, and she tantalized him in some ways, as she did now. She managed to be both vulnerable and unattainable, both powerful and gentle, and the contrasts excited him more than he cared to tell her. “I don't suppose I can talk you into shocking your household tonight, can I?” he asked hopefully, and she shook her head slowly. She never did that. Not with the au pair and the baby around, and she wasn't going to start that, even for Dr. Franklin.

“I'm afraid not, Dick. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not surprised,” he smiled good-naturedly, “only disappointed. Well, go look at your calendar and pick a date for a weekend. Soon, please.”

“Yes, sir.” He walked her upstairs, and opened the door for her with her key, and kissed her chastely on the lips. There was no point getting anything started that they couldn't finish, as far as he was concerned. And he was a patient man, he could wait a week or two to see her again, although he would have preferred to make love to her that evening. But he was willing to accept her limitations. She thanked him for dinner, and he left, and the moment he was gone, she hurried to her bedroom, took off her clothes, and slipped into bed without even putting on her nightgown or brushing her teeth. She was too tired to do anything but sleep, and she lay dead to the world until six o'clock the next morning.

Jade was already awake when she went in to check on her, and playing happily with the toys the au pair had left in her crib the night before for exactly that purpose. She was alternately talking to herself and singing softly, but she stood up and squealed when she saw her mother.

“Hi there, monkey face,” Zoe said as she picked her up and took her to change her diaper, But she noticed as she did that Jade seemed heavier than usual, and Zoe was still tired after a night's sleep. That was happening more and more lately, and it reminded her to call the lab when she got into the office.

She left the house at six forty-five, and was at UC Hospital to do rounds at seven, and in her office at eight-thirty, and there were already two dozen patients waiting for her. It was one of the busiest days she'd had in months, and she didn't have time to call the lab till lunchtime. And when she did, they didn't have the results for her, and for once she lost her temper.

“We've waited two weeks for this, dammit. It's not fair to keep people waiting that long,” she complained. “These are life-and-death situations, we're not talking about a urinalysis here, for chrissake. How soon can I have it?” They apologized for being backlogged and promised her that if she called back at four o'clock she'd have the results, but she didn't get a chance to stop again until five-thirty, and she still had patients waiting for her. But she wanted the results before the close of business, so she called them. They fumbled around for a while, while she fumed, and pushed several messages around her desk, and then they came back on the line and told her.

“Positive,” the lab tech said matter-of-factly. It was no big surprise. Her patients tested positive for the AIDS virus all the time. That was why they came to see her.

“Positive?” she said, as though she'd never heard it before.
“Positive?”
She could feel the planet spinning.

“That's what I said,” he said easily. “Is it a surprise this time?” The trouble was, it wasn't. It explained how tired she had been, how exhausted, the weight she had lost, the diarrhea she had had from time to time, and the symptoms that had been troubling her for six months, since Christmas. The results were her own this time, and she knew exactly when it had happened. She had stuck herself with a dirty needle by accident, nearly a year before, when she was doing a blood test on a little girl who had died of AIDS two months ago, in April.

She thanked the lab tech for the results, and hung up the phone ever so quietly, feeling as though the world had just come to an end, just as her patients did when she told them. There had been nothing subtle about it, nothing gentle about what he said. “Positive”… positive… she had AIDS… What would she do with Jade?… How was she going to work? Who would take care of her when she got sick?… What was she going to do now? And as she contemplated the enormity of it, she was overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. She had had denial about it at first, but she had suspected it for weeks, when she had gotten a funny sore on her lip. It had disappeared fairly rapidly, but her suspicions didn't. Her own medical background had finally forced her to face it, and at least get tested. It was exactly what she dealt with, with her patients. But her concerns had been vivid enough to make her avoid Dick Franklin for the last few weeks, although she had always been extremely careful with him. Ever since her lover had died of AIDS ten years before, she had always exercised every precaution, and warned the men in her life about him. She had told Dick, and they had both been unfailingly cautious. She had never exposed him to any risk. But if she were to continue seeing him now, she would tell him, just so he'd know what she had to contend with. But she had no desire to see him, or tell him. She couldn't imagine him taking care of her or even being very sympathetic. He had even warned her of the risks she was taking, with her kind of practice. It had happened to other doctors before, just as it had to her. And he didn't think the dangers were worth it.

He was a scientist, and they were good friends certainly, but he wasn't the kind of person you went to with a problem. He was the kind of man you went out with for a nice evening. But she was sure he'd be appalled, if she told him. And she knew, without even thinking about it, that their dating career had just ended. So had a lot of things, maybe not her medical career for now, but certainly her future. She had an overwhelming urge to burst into tears, but she knew she couldn't, she still had to see patients. But suddenly, she could hardly think straight.

“Anyone home?” Sam Warner popped his head around her door again, and looked startled when he saw her expression. She looked as though someone had just shot her out of a cannon. And they had. A big one. “Are you okay? You look awful,” he said bluntly.

“I think I'm coming down with something,” she said vaguely, groping for an excuse to explain her complete discomposure. “A cold, a flu… something.”

“Then you shouldn't be here,” he said firmly. “I'm not hustling you for work, but your patients can't afford to catch anything from you, and you know it.”

“I'll wear a mask,” she said, fumbling in her desk with trembling fingers, and he saw how badly her hands shook when she tried unsuccessfully to tie it. But he didn't say anything. He just looked worried, “I… really… I'm fine… I just… I have a headache…”

“You're a mess,” he said, taking the stethoscope from around her neck and putting it on the table. “Go home. I'll see the rest of your patients, and I won't charge you. It's a gift from me. Some people just don't know when to quit.” He wagged a finger at her and almost pushed her out the door, but she didn't refuse him. Suddenly she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't believe what she'd heard. She had AIDS… AIDS… the killer that all her patients died of… her life was over. It wasn't, of course, she could live for years with the proper care, and she knew that. But she had the virus in her blood, waiting there, like a sniper or a time bomb. “Go home,” Sam was saying to her, “get into bed, and stay there. I'll come by and check on you later.”