Plain Jane and Doctor Dad

“No. He didn’t.”

The ugly scene replayed in her mind, and suddenly she couldn’t bear talking about it anymore.

“Listen, thanks for talking to me,” she said as she stood to go. “But I’d better get back to work. I’ve already been gone way too long.”

“I understand.” He nodded and came to his feet. “Maybe I’ll see you later, when I do rounds.”

“Sure. And I’m sorry for crying all over you.” He must see her as some kind of flailing, helpless female, she thought, when in fact, she was just the opposite.

“Don’t even think about it, Maura.” His tone was soft and sincere. Maura met his gaze briefly, then turned on her way.

She hurried across the courtyard, then entered the hospital. To avoid the long wait for the elevator, she walked up three flights to the pediatrics department. Her supervisor, Gloria Jones, greeted her with a questioning look but didn’t ask why she was so late returning from her break. There was plenty of work waiting, and Maura dug in, eager to focus on her patients instead of her problems.

As the afternoon passed, her thoughts returned to her disturbing confrontation with Scott—and her conversation with Dr. Connelly. She’d never had such a personal conversation with Doug before. But now she was thankful that, purely by chance, he’d been there for her at such an awful moment. Crying on his shoulder hadn’t solved anything, but it had made her feel worlds better, lending her the boost she needed to carry on.

Some of the staff disliked the handsome pediatrician. They found him aloof and distant. But Maura had never felt that way. He was sometimes distracted by his work, and even brooding. But a more dedicated doctor would be hard to find.

She had never imagined he would also be such a dedicated friend, the kind you could really count on when things went haywire. But whether you liked Doug Connelly or not, he was clearly a man of strong character, and Maura knew without question that her secret was safe.

Her workday wore on, thankfully free of pressing emergencies, as she had a pounding headache that wasn’t assuaged by the pills she’d taken earlier. Luckily, a night-shift nurse came in early, allowing Maura to go home.

She lived in a comfortable family neighborhood a short distance from the hospital. She’d been lucky to find a reasonably priced two-bedroom apartment in a renovated brownstone. Her living room even had a working fireplace, which she really appreciated during the long Chicago winters.

The apartment was the first she’d lived in without a roommate, and Maura had loved decorating it to her own taste. She liked antiques, but since she could only afford a few small pieces, she used her knack for finding interesting items that weren’t genuine antiques but still quaint and unique. The honey-tone wood floors were covered by area rugs, and the walls were warm shades of apricot and creamy white. Her home was her haven, her retreat from her hectic, demanding job. It was a private place where she could rest and recharge. Where she could hide away and sort out her thoughts when life tossed her some seemingly impossible crisis. Which was just the way she felt tonight as she slipped her key into the front door and went inside.

She dropped her mail on a table in the foyer without even glancing at it, then went straight to the bedroom and took a long, hot shower. Even though it was still early, she put on her nightgown and robe, then lay down on her bed, hoping to sleep. But worries immediately crowded her mind.

For some reason, instead of thinking about Scott, she thought about Doug, recalling the first time they’d met, months ago. She had recently started at the hospital and had been working the night shift. She was assigned to one of his patients, a four-year-old girl brought in with advanced pneumonia and serious heart complications. Purely by chance in the small hours of the night she’d discovered that the child was in serious trouble, in danger of heart failure.

When Doug found her with the patient minutes later, she was giving CPR as she waited for the crash cart and respiratory equipment to be hooked up. As Doug took charge, he barely said a personal word to her, but the respectful, grateful look in his eyes said it all.

That night she’d hardly been aware of his compelling good looks, or the smothering shyness that typically fell over her. Working through the crisis with him, she felt totally in synch, and the event somehow forged a mysterious but deep bond between them. She had never felt quite that way about anyone—not a coworker or even a romantic partner. But she had felt it that night with Doug, and forever after.

They had worked together for several hours to pull the little girl through. Even after Maura’s regular shift was done, she stayed on, unwilling to leave until she was sure the child was going to survive. She knew that some people thought it unwise to get so involved with each patient’s recovery. They advised compassion tempered by a cooler, more distant attitude to avoid the burnout that was so common among overworked nurses.

But Maura wasn’t made that way. She hadn’t become a pediatric nurse in order to be distant and detached from the children who needed her. She knew from the first that Doug was the same. Perhaps even more intensely involved with his young patients than she.

She later learned that the little girl’s family didn’t have much insurance and Doug had not even sent them a bill. While it was highly uncommon for a specialist of Doug’s caliber to forego payment, she soon learned that it wasn’t uncommon at all for him to work that way.

When morning came and the crisis had passed, she and Doug sat together outside on a bench in the same courtyard where they had talked today. They celebrated their victory, joking and laughing over cups of steaming coffee and sticky donuts. It was late January and the weather was frigid, yet she could still recall feeling elated by the cold air and early-morning light and the shared success in saving a child’s life.

It was then Doug learned she was dating Scott Walker, and Maura learned Doug was Scott’s old pal from college. There was something in Doug’s reaction to the news that made Maura think he was disappointed to hear she was seeing someone. But the moment passed and later she decided she’d imagined the brief flicker of interest.

On her side Maura would never deny that she found Doug very attractive. But at that time she had felt so committed to Scott, she’d never once thought of Doug in a romantic way.

Besides, Maura reflected, even if she had been free, Doug was not her type at all. For one thing, she was looking for a man who would have time in his life for a wife and family. Doug was far too focused on his work to make family life, or even a romantic relationship, a priority.

And he could be temperamental at times. She had to acknowledge that his smiles and bright moods were rare. He seemed most often to be shadowed by some deep, mysterious unhappiness, and too often she found a dark, brooding look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching him.

What brought on that somber mood of his? Was it the pressures of his work? Maura had always suspected it was something more. Some deep hurt in his past, some painful loss. Doug had never spoken to her about his past, but she did know from Scott that he’d gone through a difficult divorce a few years back.

As the months passed, she and Doug always had so much to say to each other whenever they met. She’d run into him on her floor while he did rounds, in the hallways, in the cafeteria. He would ask her advice about his cases, and she enjoyed helping him figure out some knotty problem in a diagnosis or discuss a curious turn in a patient’s condition.

It was unusual for a doctor of his standing to take a nurse into his confidence in that way, and she was secretly pleased, even proud, of the way he seemed to value her observations. But they didn’t only talk about patients. They talked about all kinds of things, movies, books, traveling to exotic places, which they both planned on doing someday when they weren’t working so hard.

But Maura had to acknowledge that, for all their interesting conversations, she still knew very little about him. The staff at Chicago General was always brimming with gossip, and while she avoided discussing other people’s lives, she had overheard a few basic facts about Doug. He had been at the hospital since his residency and at one time had been married. He was divorced for almost two years, but no one seemed to know what had gone wrong. His ex-wife was now married to a prominent plastic surgeon, and some said she’d hurt Doug badly with an affair.

Even though she didn’t have romantic designs on him herself, Maura wondered why he wasn’t in a new relationship, or even married again, by now. But her knowledgeable co-workers answered that question, too. Many hopeful women had pursued the handsome doctor, but the relationship had always ended unhappily. Despite his giving, caring nature as a physician, it was reported that Dr. Douglas Connelly was distant and even difficult as a romantic partner. An emotional Mount Everest with wickedly icy heights to scale.

Maura suspected his single-minded focus on his work had been the real problem. She knew it would be one for her. Some people didn’t need a home life and family. Maybe Doug was that type, she concluded. But a home and family was something Maura had always longed for, because she’d known so little security growing up.

When she’d met Scott, back in November, she’d believed at last she’d found a man who shared her values and outlook and wanted the same kind of life that she did.

Her thoughts drifted as sleep overcame her weary mind. How devastating it had been to discover that Scott had only pretended to be that kind of man, saying just what she’d wanted to hear in order to get what he’d wanted from her.

And by the time she saw him clearly, it was too late.

Two

Maura woke to the sound of sharp knocking on her front door. Her bedroom was dark, and the clock on the night table showed it was nearly eight. She sat up and pushed her hair back with her hand as she walked toward the foyer.

She wondered who it could be. Maybe her friend Liza, who lived downstairs. Liza often stopped by at night just to chat, mostly about her problems with boyfriends.

But Maura wasn’t in the mood to see Liza. She walked toward the door and tightened the sash on her robe, wondering what excuse she could make.

Just as the knock sounded again, Maura turned the lock. “Just a second,” she said.

She pulled the door open a space. Then felt herself jolted to the core by the sight of Doug’s tall, imposing form.

“Doug. What are you doing here?”

She was rarely so blunt, but he was that last person she’d expected. He’d only been to her apartment once, when her car wouldn’t start and he’d given her a lift home from the hospital. She didn’t even realize he remembered where she lived.

“I was on my way home and thought I’d stop by. I went to your station after my rounds, but they said you’d left early,” he added. “I hope you’re all right.”

He smiled at her, yet his gaze looked serious, questioning, as if he wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing by surprising her like this.

“Another nurse came in early, so I was able to leave before the shift ended,” she explained. “I was just taking a nap.”

“Have you had dinner yet? We could get something at the café around the corner if you like.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay in tonight. I mean, I appreciate you stopping over—”

“That’s all right. But I did want to talk to you some more. You seemed so upset today. I’m not sure it’s good for you to be alone.”

“I-I’m okay,” she insisted. “Really.” But she wasn’t okay and they both knew it.

“Maura?” Doug moved up to the opening in the door, his tone firm but concerned. “Please, let me in. I’ll only stay a minute.”