The Doctor's Undoing (18 page)

Ron nodded. “Seems like a decent guy. Mom made a few comments behind his back about his Hispanic heritage, but she's not really a bigot. She's an equal opportunity criticizer.”

Haley wondered what Carolyn might be saying about
her,
but she wasn't going to worry about it. “Sorry I lectured them when they were making fun of you. I tried to keep quiet, but they were starting to annoy me, ganging up on you that way.”

“It's okay. I appreciated you taking up for me. But I'm used to it.”

“They were out of line.”

He shrugged. “They had some justification for the things they said. I did start and stop a lot of things in the past. Even college, the first time. You can't really blame them for expecting me to quit this, too.”

“After four years of college and two and a half years of med school? I'd say you've proven you're sticking with it this time.”

He shrugged. “That's the plan. Unless something goes wrong, of course.”

She sighed. “You want to hear some armchair psychoanalysis?”

He chuckled in response to her wording, though he kept his eyes focused on the wet road ahead. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“I think one reason you kept quitting things is because you never thought you could do them well enough. Your parents are so critical that you could be forgiven for thinking you could never please them. It wouldn't take much to expand that mind-set to thinking you might as well not invest too much of yourself if you couldn't win, anyway.”

“Hmm.”

She couldn't tell if he agreed, disagreed, or was just humoring her. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Could my theory be at least somewhat credible?”

“There's some truth in it.”

“Your mother probably has OCD, you know.”

“My mother definitely has OCD. I've known that for years.”

“Oh.” Only a little deflated, she said, “You didn't mention it.”

“I told you she's impossible to please.”

“Well, yes, but not that it's partially because she can't really help herself.”

“Took me a few years to figure that out.”

A hard gust of wind buffeted the car. She saw Ron's hands tighten on the wheel.

“Why don't you turn on the radio?” he suggested. “We really should be listening to the weather reports.”

Rain swept in curtains across the road ahead as she reached for the knob. “It seems to be getting worse again, doesn't it?”

“Picking up some.”

A somber male voice read weather updates on the airways. Haley frowned a little. It sounded as though the system was moving quickly in from the west. The western half of the state was under a new tornado watch. “Hope we get home before that gets to Little Rock.”

“Me, too. If we have to, we'll pull over somewhere. Have a leisurely dinner while we wait for it to blow over.”

She nodded. “Not that I'm hungry yet. Your mom made so much food.”

“She'll complain for days about how tired she is from all that work. But she seemed to enjoy having us there.”

“I think she did.”

“She liked you, Haley. I could tell.”

“That's nice. I hope you don't think I dislike your family. I don't, you know.”

He slanted her a quick smile. “I know. You don't really dislike anyone, do you?”

“Well, not many people,” she admitted, thinking of a few. “But everyone was very nice to me today.”

He took his right hand from the wheel long enough to squeeze her knee. “You're easy to be nice to.”

Unexpectedly, she felt her cheeks flood with warmth. How far gone was she that a simple squeeze and an offhanded compliment could make her hands suddenly tremble?

Careful, Haley.

He placed his hand on the wheel again, fighting the gusts of wind. He drove doggedly on, and she didn't want to distract him with conversation. She didn't even try to study during this ride; Ron needed to keep his attention on the wet road. Darkness was falling quickly, though it was hard to distinguish from the already-cloud-darkened skies. Rain fell steadily on
the roof and washed across the windows. The radio kept them informed about watches and warnings, informing them that the worst of the storm was still headed their way. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot of traffic on the roads and most of the other drivers were also using caution, though there were the occasional idiots who drove as recklessly as if the weather was completely clear and dry.

The silence had extended for quite some time before Ron spoke again, his voice somber, raised a little above the noise from outside. “What you said to my family? About me being more capable of commitment than they give me credit for?”

Drawn from her own thoughts, she nodded. “Of course you're capable of commitment. There's no way anyone would survive the first two years of med school without being completely dedicated to it.”

“I would have thought you'd have agreed with them. As often as we've argued about that very sort of thing, I mean.”

She sighed. “The reason we argued in the past was because I hated hearing you sell yourself short. All that talk of quitting and falling back on Plan B, all those doubts about whether you belonged in medical school or whether you would be able to see it through—well, hearing those things just annoyed me because I knew it was all foolishness.”

“So you do think I'm capable of making a total commitment, despite what you said to Lydia and Kristie at the party.”

Rain hammered harder against the top of the car, sounding even louder than before in the awkward pause that followed his comment. The wipers weren't having much effect against the downpour. She cleared her throat, staring hard out the windshield rather than at him. “Of course you're capable, Ron. You just don't always choose to do so.”

She craned her neck to look ahead for a safe place to stop for a while. They were pretty much surrounded by farm and pastureland. There weren't a lot of cars on the road with them; maybe other people had the sense to stay inside during weather like this. But it really hadn't been this bad when they'd left his parents' house, she reminded herself.

“I am going to finish medical school, Haley,” Ron said.

“Of course you will. Can you see the road?”

“Yeah, I can see pretty well. You don't have to worry, you know.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I'm trying not to worry. But this weather is really getting ugly. I don't know whether it would be better to keep moving toward home or pull over somewhere and hope we get another break in the rain.”

“I'm still hoping we can get home before that next front line moves into the central part of the state. I'll pull over if I think it's getting too risky to keep driving, but right now it's just a heavy rain. I can drive in that as long as I watch my speed—and the morons don't run us off the road.”

He spoke just as a big truck with oversize tires sped past them, throwing up fountains of water from the road, blowing the smaller car slightly sideways on the wet pavement.

“Jerk,” Haley muttered.

“That's one word for him,” Ron agreed grimly, peering through the semicircular swaths carved by the wipers.

Once he'd steadied the car again, he glanced at her. “I wasn't actually talking about the weather.”

She drew her attention from the dark skies ahead. Between the rain on the roof and the droning of the weather reporter on the radio, she was having a little trouble hearing him clearly. “Hmm?”

“When I said you don't have to be nervous, I meant you don't have to worry that I'll hold you back in your career. I know how exclusive those triple-board programs are, but I have no doubt you'll get into one if you want.”

Forgetting the weather for the moment, she turned in her seat to stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

He sighed loudly, looking both frustrated and self-conscious. “It's just—well, I know several people lately have warned you that it's hard sometimes for a couple to find residencies in the same hospitals. I know a few have hinted that I could be a liability to you. And then Deb made that comment today that left you looking so nervous, so I thought maybe you should know…never mind. Forget I said anything. Stupid time to bring this up.”

She bit her lip. Was he really trying to convince her that he wouldn't interfere in her career plans? Or was he implying he wasn't expecting them to still be together when the time came for applying to residency programs?

A flicker of anger sparked beneath the dull pain his clumsy assurances had left in her chest, and she spoke without bothering to guard her words. “Let me make something clear to you. If I wanted to find a residency program at a hospital that was also a good match for you, I wouldn't care what anyone else said about it. Not our classmates, not our families, not our friends…no one. I make my own decisions. Nor do I think that being with you would ever hold me back in my career, for that matter. I've told you before that I believe you can get into any residency program you want. I was being completely honest.”

His jaw tightened as he stared grimly ahead. “I would never want you staying with me because you don't believe in giving up. Sometimes it really is best to walk away. For your own sake.”

Her temper flared higher. “And I wouldn't want to stay with someone who wasn't willing to fight against all the odds to keep us together. What's the point of making commitments at all if a person is willing to just walk away when the going gets hard? How can you pour everything you have into anything if you aren't willing to invest whatever it takes to succeed?”

He risked glanced at her again. “Are we talking about school again—or about us?”

“We're talking about whatever is important to you,” she answered evenly.

She might as well face it. She had told herself she wouldn't fall in love with him. She had promised herself she could keep it light. That she wouldn't expect too much and therefore wouldn't be disappointed when it inevitably ended. After all, she'd been able to accomplish that goal with other men from her past.

It wasn't the same with Ron.

When had she fallen in love with him? Since they'd become lovers? Sometime during the two years prior to that? The first day she'd met him?

“Haley—”

He cursed when rain lashed the car so hard it nearly blew them sideways. “We're going to have to pull over for a while until this band blows over.”

Nodding stiffly, she peered through the torrents. “Looks like a little café up ahead. We could wait in there.”

She wasn't hungry, but there was no need to risk both their lives in this weather.

He pulled into the parking lot and as close to the door as he could get. There were only a few other cars in the lot at just before six on this Saturday evening. Either it was too early for the dinner crowd or other people had the good sense to stay out of this storm.

“You want to make a run for it or just sit out here in the car?”

She looked at the sheets of rain between them and the door, weighed the discomfort against a continuation of this painful discussion with Ron. She really didn't think she was ready to hear him confirm that she had offered her heart to a
man who wasn't interested in the responsibility of caring for it long-term. Maybe she just wanted to hold on to the fantasy for a little longer.

“Let's go in.”

They didn't bother with umbrellas, but simply jumped out of the car and made a dash for it. They shed their wet coats inside the café, hanging them to dry on a coat rack just inside the door. Their pants and shoes were wet, and their hair hung damp and limp, but at least they weren't soaked to the skin.

A waitress with flame-red hair and too much black eyeliner approached them with a commiserative smile. “Pretty bad out there, isn't it? We've got the TV on in the corner over there so we can watch the radar. You know we're under a tornado watch, don't you?”

“Yes, we know.” Ron glanced at the screen where a graphic showed almost the entire state covered in boxes depicting thunderstorm warnings, tornado watches and flash-flood warnings. Two serious-looking men in white shirts and loosened ties sat at a news desk, discussing the radar activity they were showing on-screen. “We thought we'd have a bite to eat and wait for the rain to let up a little before we keep driving to Little Rock.”

Nodding, she waved a hand tipped with blue nail enamel toward the small dining room. “Just sit wherever you want. I'll bring you a menu. And some coffee?”

“Please,” Ron and Haley said in unison.

“Be right with you.”

At a quick glance, Haley noted that only a few other people were in the café, counting the two waitresses and whoever was working the kitchen. A family of four sat at a table next to the front glass wall. Mother and father in their late thirties, a boy and girl of maybe nine and twelve, respectively, all talking at once as they ate. An elderly couple—mid-seventies, perhaps?—were silently putting away bowls of soup and a basket of corn bread muffins at a table in the corner. And a
younger couple dined on hamburgers and fries while stopping often to coo at the baby sitting in a carrier on a third chair at their table. Occasionally they glanced at the TV and out the windows, keeping an eye on the weather, probably judging when it would be safe to make a run for their car.

Haley doubted that the little establishment often had a full dining room, but she suspected there were usually more here than this. The place was clean and the food looked good. The weather had to be a factor in the lack of business tonight.

“Here's your coffee.” The waitress, identified by a name tag as Candi, set steaming mugs in front of them. “Bet you're both chilled with that damp hair.”

“We are,” Ron answered her with a smile that made her eyelashes flutter. “Thank you, Candi.”