He didn’t even want to talk? She was beginning to feel taken for granted, or rather, feeling not quite that important. It was a familiar feeling.
She had everything worked out in her mind. She would be with Patrick forever. They might never marry, that was all right. He was too old, in his mind, to start a family, but she had never really longed for children. As long as she had Patrick, she could be happy. He hadn’t quite reached her expectations, but it was still early in their relationship.
She knew he was now back in town. He said he’d be in surgery for several hours on his first day back and he was starting at six a.m. so, regrettably, he might not be able to see her for another day or two. But couldn’t he at least let her know he was back, was thinking of her, couldn’t wait to see her?
She called him a few times, but was forced to leave a message on his voice mail. She thought even if he was terribly busy he should have time to send her a text. So she sent him a few texts. The first few said, I miss you so much. The seventh said, Are you ignoring me?
She was working all day, of course. She had patients to see, lab work to review, specialists to call, even an office meeting with the other doctors, and yet she had time to text and call. At the end of the day she went to the hospital to check on a couple of patients, though she didn’t have to. They were thrilled to have the added attention and she reassured them they were going to be fine. But her real purpose was to see if Patrick’s car was in the parking lot.
And it was not!
She drove by their favorite taco shack and his car was there. She parked in the parking lot and walked into the restaurant. She didn’t have to go very far—Patrick was seated at their table with an attractive woman. Patrick was wearing his scrubs, like he was barely off work, but the woman was dressed richly. She wore a camel-colored pencil skirt, heels—not in-the-clouds high, but three inches, anyway—a lightweight ivory sweater with a cowl neck and a fashionable leather belt over the sweater. Her brown hair was supershort and she wore gold hoop earrings. She had a briefcase and some papers on the table, but Jessie immediately thought that could be a decoy. She walked into the restaurant, to the bar area, and ordered some nachos and tacos to go. While she waited, she watched Patrick. He never looked around to notice her. In fact, he never seemed to notice anything but his nachos, tacos and the woman.
The woman shared his nachos. How sweet.
When Jessie was leaving with her takeout, he finally noticed her. He frowned; she glared. How dare he! He didn’t have time to even text her? But he could have dinner with a sexy woman?
Her fury grew as she drove back to Mill Valley. This, too, was familiar. She’d been down this exact road with more than one boyfriend. By the time she got home, there was a text from Patrick.
I’ll give you a call tomorrow. I’ve been slammed today and I’m going back into surgery tonight. I won’t get home before midnight.
And she responded, Yes, I saw.
He did not text back an explanation or excuse, and although she was melting down from within, she didn’t say or do anything more. But she wanted to.
It was nearly seven the next evening by the time her doorbell rang. Having thought ahead a little, she had brought home pizza and wine and beer, knowing exactly what he liked—what type of beer, what toppings, even that he preferred thin crust.
By the look on his face, he wasn’t going to be impressed by her thoughtfulness.
“Patrick!” she said.
“We have a problem, you and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to hear something,” he said, stepping into her town house. “Let’s sit in here,” he said, throwing an arm wide, indicating her living room.
“Would you like a beer or glass of wine? I picked us up a pizza...”
He just pressed Play on his phone. Where the hell are you? You should be back by now! I’ve called several times and went straight to voice mail. I know you’re home by now! You said you had patients but surely there’s time in your very busy schedule for a call or a text to at least tell me you’re back! I had hoped to at least see you for a little while. If you can fit me in.
“I was frustrated...by not hearing from you...”
“I told you I was getting in from Boston late, that I had a full surgical roster for the next day and was operating on the east coast time change.”
“Did... Didn’t you get to rest in Boston?”
“No, Jessie. Boston was not a vacation, it was work. I was in conferences or meetings day and night. Not only was I presenting, I had meetings with colleagues to discuss spinal cord surgical procedures and other professional matters. There are not that many opportunities for one-on-one discussions.”