Priceless

“You should,” Mack said, his expression serious. “Tony and a lot of other kids are counting on you, Doc. You won’t be able to help them if you get sick yourself.”

“Point accepted,” Beth said, deliberately taking a bite of salad to prove she’d gotten the message.

They ate in silence for several minutes, then Mack asked, “How’s Tony doing? Any change?”

“You’ve probably seen for yourself that he’s getting weaker every day. We’re doing everything we can to build him back up so we can try another round of chemo, but nothing’s working,” she admitted, her frustration evident in her voice. “Maybe you could work some of your nutritional magic with him. He’s not eating.”

“I’m on it,” he said at once. “Anything he can’t have?”

“No.”

“And I won’t be breaking any rules by carting in takeout?”

“I’ll save you from the food police around here, if you can just get him to eat,” Beth promised.

“Consider it done. I think I have a pretty good idea what might tempt a twelve-year-old kid to eat. And I can always give him the same spiel I gave you about the body needing fuel.”

“Thanks,” Beth said sincerely. “These days he’s much more likely to listen to you than me.”

“It’s a guy thing.” Mack grinned. “Of course, I might have to insist that you stop by to split a pizza with us or maybe some tacos. Kids learn best by example.”

Beth chuckled despite herself. “Still trying to fatten me up?”

“Just a little.”

“It seems to me the women I usually see on your arm are all model thin.”

Mack’s expression darkened a bit. “Don’t believe everything you see in the paper, Doc.”

“Are you saying the pictures lie? How can that be?”

“Put an ambitious female and a sleazy photographer in the same room and all it takes is the click of a shutter to create a false impression,” he said with an unmistakable touch of bitterness.

Before Beth could comment, he waved off the topic. “Let’s not talk about that. Anything on the search for a bone marrow donor?”

Beth wasn’t sure what to make of the quick change in subject, but she accepted that Mack didn’t intend to say another word about the women in his life. Instead, she tried to answer his question about Tony honestly. “He’s on the list, but we haven’t been pushing because he’s not a good candidate right now.”

“Anything I can do?” Mack asked.

“Just keep coming to see him. It’s the only time I ever hear him laugh,” she said quietly.

Mack studied her intently. “What about you, Doc? How are you doing? This is getting to you, isn’t it? I mean even more than it was before. You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Beth struggled with the emotions she tried to keep tamped down so they wouldn’t overwhelm her. Mack had a way of bringing them right back to the surface, of forcing her to confront them.

“Terrified,” she admitted finally.

Mack reached for her hand. “You know, even doctors are allowed to have feelings.”

“No, we’re not,” she said, jerking her hand away from the comfort it would be far too easy to accept. “We have to stay focused and objective.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only way we can do our jobs.”

“Without falling apart, you mean?”

She nodded, her throat tight. Now she was the one who was uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. “Can we talk about something else, please? I can’t do this, not tonight.”

Mack sat back in his chair. “Sure. We can talk about whatever you like.” He grinned. “Want to talk about football?”

She relaxed at the teasing note in his voice. “It would have to be a brief conversation, unless you intend to do all the talking.”

“You know us jocks. We can go on and on about sports at the drop of a hat,” he taunted. “But I’ll spare you. How about politics? Any opinions?”

“I saw in the paper that your brother finally announced he’s running for city council in Alexandria.”

Mack’s expression darkened a bit. “Yep, Richard’s fulfilling the legacy our father left for him.”

Beth heard the edgy note in his voice and studied him curiously. “You don’t seem pleased by that.”

“If it were what my brother really wanted, I’d be all for it, but the truth is Richard has spent his whole life living up to these expectations that were drilled into him when we were boys. Running Carlton Industries is one thing. That’s the family legacy and he loves it. He was clearly destined for it. But politics? I’m not convinced it’s what he wants. He’ll do it, though, out of a sense of duty to a man who’s been gone for more than twenty years, and he’ll do it well.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

He gave her a rueful look. “Nah. You don’t tell Richard anything. He’s the one who tells the rest of us what to do.”

“Do you resent that?”

“Good grief, no. If he hadn’t taken the pressure off the rest of us years ago, I’d probably be behind some desk at Carlton Industries pushing a pencil. I’d not only be totally miserable, but I’d probably bring down the company.”

“Singlehandedly?” Beth asked skeptically.

“No, I imagine Ben, our younger brother, would be even worse at it than me.”

“I think I read somewhere that he’s an artist. Is that right?”

Mack’s eyes twinkled with knowing amusement. “Checking us out, Doc?”

“No, it’s just hard to avoid the mention of the Carlton name in the local media. Even your reportedly reclusive younger brother’s name pops up from time to time.”

“If you say so.”

“Why would I bother checking you out?” Beth inquired irritably.

“Some women think we’re pretty fascinating men,” Mack responded with a straight face.

“I’m not one of them.”