Changes (22 page)

“That's my point. And she has enough to contend with in her life, without worrying about me.”

“What makes you think she'd worry?”

“What makes you think she wouldn't? I mean think of it, her whole world has been turned upside down in the last two years, but at least she knows she has you. And there have been no women for her to compete with, in her mind at least. And then I come on the scene, and I'm an instant threat.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I'm a woman. She's a girl, and you're her father. You belong to her.”

“My being interested in someone wouldn't change that.”

“Subtly, in some ways, it might. I'm sure your relationship with Pam was different when your wife was alive. You had less time for her, you had other things to do. Now suddenly you're all hers, or almost. Changing that back again, and for a stranger, won't be very welcome.”

He looked pensive as he stopped the car in front of a little Italian restaurant.” I never thought of it that way.” And then he smiled slowly at Mel. “But I never had to. Maybe I should be a little cautious about what I tell her.”

“I think so.” She grinned. “Hell, you may never want to see me again after the next few days. You're about to see me at my worst. After enough days of no sleep, I start to fall apart.”

“Don't we all.”

“I didn't think you did. You seem to hold up miraculously with all that you do.”

“I have my limits too.”

“Me too, and I hit mine about two days ago.”

“Come on, let's get you fed. That'll help.” They walked inside, and the headwaiter gave them a quiet table. “Wine, Mel?” But she quickly shook her head.

“I'd pass out in my plate.” She laughed and ordered a small steak. She wasn't even hungry anymore, but she knew that the protein would do her good. And they enjoyed the dinner and the small talk, and she was amazed at how comfortable she was with him. He seemed interested in her work, and she already knew a great deal about his. It was a relaxing but stimulating conversation, and she sat back with her cup of coffee at the end, feeling content and sated. “You are an absolute godsend. Do you know that?”

“I'm enjoying it too.”

“This is not at all what I expected when I came to L.A.”

“I know.” He smiled. “By now, you thought you'd be in Bermuda.”

“Is that what day this is?” She had lost track of time and she hadn't even talked to the girls since she'd arrived, but she knew they'd all understand. And the girls were in Cape Cod anyway for the long weekend. She hadn't even realized it had begun, but it had. It felt as though she had already been in L.A. for weeks. And in a way, she wished she had been. She had never felt that way before. Her whole life centered on New York, as a rule, but not right now. Her life was here.

“I'm sorry you missed the trip to Bermuda, Mel.” “I'm not.” She looked frankly into his eyes. “This is where I'd much rather be.” He wasn't quite sure how to respond, so he reached out and took her hand.

“I'm glad. I'm happy you're back, Mel. I'm just sorry you have to work so hard.”

Her eyes were deadly earnest as they looked into his. “It's a small price to pay to see you.”

But Peter couldn't repress a sad thought. “I'm sure the President doesn't feel that way.” They shared a serious moment and then Mel regretfully looked at her watch. It was time for her to go back to work. He offered to take her back to the hospital and wait but she protested for his sake.” I can take a cab after I do the eleven o'clock,” which was only eight o'clock in L.A.

“Ί told you. For as long as you're here, I'm your chauffeur.” He looked embarrassed then. “Unless you'd rather not …”

This time she reached out and touched his hand.” I love it.”

“Good.”

He paid the check and they left and went back to Center City in time for her to announce to the viewers in New York that the President had a slight fever, but it was to be expected. And then half an hour later, Peter drove her back to her hotel, and dropped her outside, promising to be back at the same hour the following morning. And once again, she went inside and climbed into bed, but tonight it took her longer to fall asleep, and she was still awake when he called her half an hour later.

“Hello?” She was afraid it was bad news about the President.

“It's me.” It was Peter and she breathed a sigh of relief and told him why. “I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“That's okay. Is something wrong?”

“No.” He hesitated and she could almost hear him breathing.” I just want to tell you that I think you're terrific.” He was startled himself and he could feel his heart beat faster. Melanie sat up in bed, feeling nervous and pleased all at once.

“I came to the same conclusion about you the last time I was here.”

He blushed and felt silly and she smiled and they chatted for a little while, and then hung up at last, feeling excited and scared and happy, like two kids. They were both taking tiny baby steps out on a limb, and it wasn't too late to turn back yet, but the balancing act got more delicate each day, and neither of them could figure out what would happen when she went back to New York, but it was too soon to worry about that. For the moment they were just enjoying walking along the limb.

Good night, Mel, see you tomorrow … she could still hear his voice ringing in her ears as she lay in the dark trying to go to sleep …and she felt as though she had just been invited to the senior prom by the most exciting guy around … it was funny how being with him made her feel so young again …

CHAPTER 14

The next morning, Peter picked her up again, and dropped her off at the hospital where she was told that the President was doing a little better. And for the first time in days she found that she had a few minutes to herself in the middle of the day, and on a sudden whim, she called the cardiac unit, and asked if she could visit Marie. She took the elevator to the sixth floor, and found her sitting up in bed looking pretty but pale, and her face had a new fullness to it. Melanie realized with sorrow that the unnatural bloating from the drugs was already setting in, but her eyes were bright and she looked happy to see Mel.

“What are you doing here?” She looked up at Melanie in surprise as she entered the room. There were still intravenous tubes in her arms, but she looked healthier than she had before the transplant.

“I came to see you. But not from New York, I'm afraid. I've been in the lobby for days, because of the President.” Marie nodded with a serious look in her eyes.

“What a terrible thing. Is he any better?”

“A little today. But he's not out of the woods yet,” and then suddenly she realized that it was a tactless thing to say, because Marie wasn't out of the woods yet either. She smiled gently at the young woman who was only a few years her junior, and whose life was held in such a delicate balance. “He's not as lucky as you are, Marie.”

“That's because he's not a patient of Peter Hallam's.” There was a warm glow in her eyes as she said his name, and Mel watched her as understanding dawned. Peter Hallam had become a god of sorts to this girl. And Mel suspected that she had a crush on him. It was not an unnatural occurrence, given her dependence on the man, and the fact that he had saved her life by performing the transplant. But it was only when Peter himself came into the room a little while later, and blushed as he saw Mel, that she saw something more. The remarkable communication between doctor and patient. He sat down beside Marie's bed, and talked to her in his quiet, soothing voice, and it was as though everyone in the room disappeared except them.

Mel suddenly felt like an intruder and left a little while later, returning to the mass of press still milling around the lobby. And she didn't see Peter again until he drove her back to the hotel that night. As she had the night before, she had a two-hour break, and then she had to return to the hospital at eight o'clock to do a live report for the eleven o'clock news in New York. And it was on the way to dinner that she mentioned Marie to him.

“She absolutely worships you, Peter.”

“Don't be silly. She's no different than any other patient.” But he knew what Melanie meant, there was a special bond between him and each of his patients and maybe particularly with Marie, who had no one to stand beside her. “She's a nice girl, Mel. And she needs someone to talk to while she goes through all this. You lie there all day and you think, sometimes too much. She needs someone to vent all that with.”

“And you are so eternally patient.” She smiled, wondering how he did it. He gave and he gave and he gave, almost beyond measure, of his skill, of his heart, of his time, of his patience. It was incredible to her how he did it.

And halfway through dinner his pager went off, and he had to return to the hospital for an emergency.

“Marie?” Mel asked worriedly as they hurried to the car.

He shook his head. “No, a man who came in last week. He needs a heart badly and we don't have a donor yet.” It seemed to be a never-ending problem for him, the absence of a heart when it was desperately needed.

“Will he make it?”

“I don't know. I hope so.” He wove his way expertly through the traffic and they were back at the hospital in less than ten minutes, and it was the last she saw of him that night. She got a message in the lobby before she went on the air that Dr. Hallam would be in surgery for several hours, and she wondered if that meant they had found a donor, or if Peter was trying to do whatever repair work he could in the meantime. She went back to her hotel alone in a cab, and she was surprised to find how much she missed him. She took a hot bath, and sat staring at the tile wall, sorry that she had questioned him about Marie. There had just been something in the woman's face when she said his name, and his tone with her had been so intimate. It almost made Mel jealous. She was in bed by nine thirty and slept soundly until her five o'clock call the next morning, and at five forty-five he was downstairs as always. But he looked tired this morning.

“Hi.” She slid into the car quickly and for an instant there had been almost a reflex reaction. She had been about to lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, but at the last minute she didn't. She searched his eyes, and suddenly realized that something was wrong. “You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

But she didn't believe him. “How was last night?”

“We lost him.” He started the car and Mel watched his profile. There was something hard and lonely in his eyes. “We did our best, but he was just too far gone.” And Mel suddenly understood something.

“You don't have to convince me.” Her voice was soft. “I know how hard you tried.”

“Yeah. Maybe I just need to convince myself.”

She reached out and touched his arm then. “Peter …”

“I'm sorry, Mel.” He glanced over at her with a tired smile, and she wished there were something she could do for him, but she wasn't sure what.

“Don't do that to yourself.”

“Yeah.” And then five minutes later, “He had a young wife and three small kids.”

“Stop blaming yourself.”

“Who should I blame?” He turned to her with a flash of sudden anger.

“Has it ever occurred to you that you're not God. That you aren't to blame? That you don't give the gift of life?” They were harsh words, but she could see that he was listening. “It's not in your hands, no matter how skilled you are.”

“He would have been a perfect candidate for a heart transplant, if we'd had a donor.”

“But you didn't. And it's over. Close the door.” They stopped in the hospital parking lot then, and he looked at her.

“You're right and I know it. And after all these years, I shouldn't punish myself, but I always do.” He sighed softly. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” There was something so comforting about her presence and he needed to be comforted.

She looked at her watch and frowned. “Sure. I'll just check in. There's probably nothing new.” But when she walked in, there was news. A bulletin was due to be delivered on the air in three minutes. The President had just come off the critical list. When the news was announced, a cheer went up in the lobby. For most of the members of the press, it would mean that they would go home soon, and could stop camping in the lobby of Center City.

Mel went on the air to deliver the news to the East as Peter watched. While the whole country would rejoice, she and Peter felt strangely depressed. Their eyes met when she went off the air.

“Will you have to go home now?” It was a worried whisper.

“Not yet. And I just got a memo. They want an interview with his wife today, if I can get it.” And at that moment, Peter was paged, and he had to leave her.

Mel sent a note upstairs to the President's wife, who had been sleeping in a room adjoining the President's for the last two days. A response came back a little while later. The First Lady would grant Mel an exclusive interview at noon, in a private room on the third floor, which ruled out any hope of having lunch with Peter, but the interview went well and Mel was pleased, and that afternoon another encouraging bulletin was delivered. The President was out of the woods. By that evening when Peter drove her out for a bite to eat, the atmosphere of tension had greatly abated.