The Doctor's Undoing

His frown deepened. “Is this a bad time?”

He glanced beyond her, as though checking to see if she had other visitors.

“No, it’s fine.” She moved out of his way. “Come in.”

He walked to the center of the living room. Studying him somewhat warily, she closed the door. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Ron in a bad mood, but it had been a while.

“Have a seat,” she said, waving toward the cushioned, cream-colored couch she’d bought for comfort as much for style. Her whole apartment was furnished with relaxation in mind; in addition to the couch, the living room featured a cushy green recliner, a brown leather club chair she’d found at an estate sale and trendily mismatched tables arranged for her guests’ convenience. She enjoyed entertaining, though she’d had little time for it since starting medical school, only hosting her study group on occasion. “Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head. “I was going to talk to you at the hospital, but you avoided me all afternoon.”

“I didn’t avoid you.” Of course, she hadn’t exactly gone looking for him, either, she admitted silently.

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his rumpled khaki slacks. “So it was just an accident that you were everywhere I wasn’t today?”

Feeling defensive now, she planted her hands on her hips. “I saw you on rounds this morning. I was very busy this afternoon. I’m sorry if that was inconvenient for you. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I visited one of your patients this afternoon. Georgia McMillan.”

“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “What made you do that?”

“She summoned me into her room when I was passing in the hallway.”

She knew Georgia enjoyed watching people pass in the hall, occasionally calling out greetings, so it was no surprise that she’d taken advantage of spotting Ron. Unfortunately. “Um—what did she say to you?”

“She wanted to give me some advice about my personal life.”

Haley sighed. She didn’t really have to ask what advice the romantically minded older woman had offered. “Yes, well, she seems to enjoy doing that.”

“Damn it, Haley.”

Defensiveness returned, crowding out embarrassment. It wasn’t as if she had any control over what her patient said when she wasn’t around. “What?”

“We’ve been friends for two years. Good friends, despite the rough patches.”

She nodded. “Yes, we have.”

“And you’re going to let one old woman’s ramblings drive a wedge between us now? After all the other obstacles our friendship has survived?”

He sounded genuinely angry, which—as always—triggered her own rare temper. It seemed to be a unique talent of his. “I’m doing no such thing.”

He was pacing now, though her small living space gave him room to take only three or four steps in each direction. “I knew something was bugging you yesterday. Couldn’t figure out why you weren’t meeting my eyes, why you jumped every time we made accidental contact. Why you started stuttering when I suggested we go to my place. To study, damn it.”

Two “damn its” in as many minutes. He really was irked.

“I told you I had to do laundry.”

“Yeah. And I’d never seen anyone look so eager to spend an evening with detergent and fabric softeners.”

“Look, Ron—”

He stopped in front of her, his gaze holding hers. “What I want to know is, why did you let what she said get to you that way? How come you didn’t come to me and laugh about it, the way we always do when something funny happens at work?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just—okay, you’re right. I let her get to me. It embarrassed me, and I wasn’t sure how to—what to—well, you know.”

“What did she say that was so embarrassing?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “All she said to me was that you’re a sweetheart and I should ask you out. She giggled a little, and I grinned back at her. I thought you and I would get a laugh out of it, but then I realized that she must have said something similar to you yesterday. And that the unsettling patient comment you mentioned last night must have been hers. So what did she say to you that was so disconcerting?”

She had no intention of telling him Georgia had implied that Ron was in love with her. Sure, they should be able to laugh about that—but for some reason, Haley didn’t find it all that funny. “She just went on about what a good catch you are and how I should make an effort to land you. As if you were a prized fish or something. I tried to tell her you and I are good friends, but she just wouldn’t let it go. I guess that conversation was still on my mind when you suggested we have coffee and dinner.”

“And when I invited you to my place to study.”

“I really did need to do laundry,” she muttered, glancing down at her hands, which were now clenched in front of her.

He shook his head. “I still don’t understand why it shook you up so much for her to suggest I’ve got a thing for you. I thought it was funny.”

It was only natural, she assured herself, that her feminine ego would be a little piqued by that. “I guess I was just more tired than I realized.”

The prevarication didn’t seem to satisfy him completely, but he nodded. “So we’re good, then?”

She gave him a smile she hoped looked completely natural. “Of course we are.”

To her relief, he smiled in return, his usual good humor returning to his warm blue eyes. “You don’t think I’m going to lure you to my lair so I can jump your bones?”

She sighed gustily, her usual response to his teasing. “No, Ron, I don’t think you’re going to jump my bones,” she said drily, making him laugh.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, can I have a sandwich?”

She blinked a couple of times, then glanced toward the table, where a barely touched ham sandwich still sat on a plate next to her computer. “Of course. Sit down, I’ll make you one.”

Sensing that she needed a change of subject, he talked about work while she moved around the small kitchen, assembling another sandwich and adding a handful of chips and pickles to the plate. She set the plate and a glass of lemonade in front of him, then took her own seat as she responded to his conversational lead. It was much easier to concentrate on their training than…well, other things.

Because he was there and they were already talking about school, it seemed only logical to spend some time studying together after they’d eaten. Their lecture on the following Monday would be about antibiotic-resistant, hospital-acquired infections, so they discussed the topic together, quizzing each other on their knowledge so they would be prepared if their attending physician aimed questions at either of them.

Settling into their practiced study routine, Haley was able to relax and put the former awkwardness aside, to her relief. Ron fell back into teasing, to which she responded with her usual retorts.

As so often was the case, she picked up the information a bit more quickly than Ron—memorization just came easier to her than to him, though once he internalized the material, he retained it well. When she sensed he was becoming frustrated, she tactfully boosted his morale by reminded him how well he’d been doing in the rotation. Clinical skills were his strong point; the fact that he struggled a bit more with the memorization just meant everyone had different learning styles and strengths, which she had lectured more than once during the past two years.

When both were satisfied they were prepared for Monday’s lecture, Ron glanced at his watch and stood to leave. “Thanks for the sandwich. And the study help,” he added, moving toward the door.

She walked with him so she could lock up behind him. “You helped me, too,” she assured him. “It’s always easier to study with someone.”

Rounding the end of the couch to join him at the door, she stumbled over a strap of the computer bag she’d left lying on the floor. She threw out a hand to steady herself, bumping against the lamp on the end table. She had no trouble preventing a fall, but the hematite bracelet she’d donned that morning caught on the lamp. Shiny, gray-black stones scattered at her feet when the elastic cording snapped.

“Darn it.” She bent to scoop up stones, sweeping one hand beneath the couch to retrieve a couple that had tumbled under there.

Ron helped her, plucking a stone from beneath the end table, another from the top of the table. “I don’t see any more.”

“Thanks.” She shook her head. “Clumsy of me.”