The Doctor's Undoing

“He loves that old car.” The car seemed to be the only inanimate object James did truly value. He’d even given it a name. Terri. If there was any personal significance to the name, he’d never said.

“Way more trouble than it’s worth. I’d have dumped it a long time ago.”

But then, that was Ron’s stated philosophy, Haley mused, gazing into her coffee cup. If something didn’t work out, or was more trouble than he deemed worthwhile, he walked away without looking back. He’d even proclaimed that he was prepared to do the same with medical school. If his grades had slipped or he’d failed one of the critical tests, he’d have taken it as a sign to move on, he’d insisted.

Haley had made no effort to hide her disapproval of that attitude. She was of the “Try, try again” credo herself. Ron had teased her during their first year of studying together that “Never give up. Never surrender!” should be her motto. The allusion had sailed over her head until he’d hosted the study group one blessedly study-free Saturday afternoon for pizza and a showing of a sci-fi spoof movie that was one of his favorite films. He’d performed a bowing, fist-against-the-heart salute every time he’d seen her for several months afterward, until she’d finally threatened to dropkick his computer if he kept it up. Although he hadn’t believed her—entirely—he’d finally grown tired of the joke and moved on to another one.

He drained his coffee. “Ready for noodles?”

She’d already agreed to eat with him. It would be a little too obvious to cancel just because James wasn’t coming along, after all. Besides, why shouldn’t she share a quick meal with Ron? she could only blame Georgia McMillan and her silly imaginings for making her suddenly self-conscious around her friend.

Telling herself this foolishness would all be forgotten by tomorrow, she pushed her empty coffee cup aside and reached for her purse.

Ron couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something was off with Haley. She seemed to be lost somewhere in her own thoughts, though she made an effort to participate in their conversation. He couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, and her smiles looked a little distant. She didn’t seem annoyed with him—a common enough occurrence that he knew how to recognize those signs—but neither was she fully connecting with him this evening.

Setting down his chopsticks, he studied her from across the little table in the crowded Chinese restaurant. “What’s going on, Haley?”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re acting weird. Have been ever since we left work today. Have I done something to tick you off again?”

She twisted noodles on her own disposable chopsticks, and he wondered if she was deliberately avoiding his gaze. “Have I ever not let you know when you’ve ticked me off?” she asked wryly.

“Well, no. But I think I know you well enough to tell when something is bothering you. Did something happen at work today?”

“Not…exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

She sighed a little and looked up from her bowl. “One of my patients said something that caught me a little off guard, but it’s no big deal, okay? It was just an observation she made that I think was inaccurate.”

Conscious of the patient privacy laws that had been drilled into them, he glanced around to make sure no one could hear them before leaning a little closer to respond. “The only ‘she’ you have is the one who always winks at me when we come into her room on rounds. What did she say?”

Haley shook her head. “You know we’re not supposed to discuss our patients outside the hospital.”

“Not if it’s a privacy issue,” he agreed. “Is that what it was? Is there something your resident should know, and you’re wondering how to tell him?”

She shook her head again. “It’s nothing like that. She was just teasing me. Let it go, Ron, okay?”

“Fine.” He wondered if she would have been so reticent with Anne. Or even James or Connor. But then he told himself to stop taking it so personally that she was holding something back from him. It wasn’t as if they told each other everything.

He’d become increasingly aware lately that there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about Haley. One would think after knowing her for two years, he’d have learned all there was to discover. And yet, it felt sometimes as if he’d barely scratched the surface of Haley Wright.

She gave another little shake of her head, as if clearing her mind of whatever had been bothering her, and quickly changed the subject. “I met with the rest of the class officers this morning for another planning session for the big tailgate party in September. I think it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Haley was the class vice president, and an active member of several committees. The whole class had been together every day during the first two years of classes and lectures; now that rotations had started, they would rarely all be in one place again. Haley was committed to making sure the class stayed connected as much as possible during these final two years of medical school. If it were up to her, they’d probably have monthly pep rallies designed to keep up morale and increase classmate bonding, he thought with a smothered grin.

“You are planning to go, aren’t you?” she asked when he didn’t immediately respond.

He shrugged. “Probably. I figure you’ll come after me if I don’t show up.”

She smiled. “You could be right.”

She had a pretty smile. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her when they’d met. She’d sat beside him in their first class and their hands had collided when they’d both reached to plug in their computers to the same outlet. She’d smiled, and his heart had given a funny thump. He still remembered their first conversation.

“Aren’t you excited?” she had asked.

“I guess.”

“And a little nervous?”

He’d had no intention of letting her see that he was scared spitless. He had shrugged and drawled, “Nah. I figure if I bomb at doctoring, I can always become a mortician.”

Haley had blinked a couple of times, then smiled again. “We aren’t going to bomb. Not if we give it all we’ve got. Maybe we can work together sometime. We’ll find a few others who want to form a study group.”

He had realized immediately that he was sitting next to a cheerleader. It had been no surprise to learn in coming months that she had, indeed, been a cheerleader throughout school—not to mention senior class president, “Most Likely to Succeed” and a homecoming princess. Far from being one of the “mean girls,” Haley had probably been popular with everyone in her school. Teachers, other students, cafeteria workers, custodians—she’d have been equally pleasant to all of them, and she would have had their vote for any position she ran for. She just had that way about her.

There’d been times when her we-can-do-anything attitude had irked him. Especially when his own confidence and morale had been lowest. When he’d been convinced he would have to drop out of medical school and return to east Arkansas with his tail between his legs, proving his family right in their predictions that he would never make it all the way through.

It hadn’t taken him long to find the right tone to chip through Haley’s cheery optimism. He seemed to have a knack for setting off her temper, which most people probably never even saw. Yet as much as they irritated each other at times, he wasn’t at all sure he’d have made it through those first two years without her. And the rest of the study group members, too, he amended quickly.

They talked about the tailgate party plans for a few minutes, and then Haley set down her chopsticks. “I can’t eat any more. I’d better go home and study.”

“Yeah, me, too. You know, you could come over to my place. We could have some dessert, study a couple hours.”

She had studied at his apartment many times during the past two years. He wasn’t sure she’d ever been there without any other members of their study group, but it wouldn’t be so different with just the two of them, right? Just because he and Haley were the only ones of their group on this rotation didn’t mean they couldn’t still be study partners.

So why did she look so surprised by his suggestion? “Um—your place?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yeah. You remember—the loft apartment with the bare gray walls? The couch you said looks like it came through World War II—and lost?”

She sighed. “I remember your apartment. I was just…I really need to go home. I have to do laundry tonight or I’ll be doing rounds in cutoffs and a T-shirt tomorrow. Maybe we can study together another night?”

Something was definitely on Haley’s mind, but he suspected it would do him no good to ask her again what was bothering her. He simply nodded and stood to escort her to the door. They were both parked in front of the coffee shop; he accompanied her down the sidewalk to her car.

He placed a hand on her shoulder to detain her when she opened her car door and prepared to climb in. “Haley—”

She glanced at his hand, then his face. “Yes?”

“You know if there’s anything bothering you, I’m here for you, right? I mean, if you want to talk or if there’s anything you need…”

She went very still for a moment, then made a face, looking more like herself than she had all evening. “Thanks, Ron. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Just tired, I guess. Really, everything’s fine. But thanks for the concern.”

He searched her face, relieved to see that the smile was back in her eyes now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Really. Just tired.”

He chuckled. “Show me a medical student who isn’t tired.”