A Chicago Love Story: Revelations

This is the next part in the ACLS series and follow up to 'Impressions'. The story picks up four days after Catherine and Alex met for the first time. A little phone tag has been played between the two that was mentioned in 'Impressions' and will be in this installment as well. Catherine's mood has improved somewhat since her dour beginning at the start of 'The Meeting', and though she will receive more blows to her fragile emotional state, it is her growing interest in the stranger Alex that continues to be her shred of positive reinforcement. This part also features a little bit more sexual content than the first two though I strongly recommend reading those as they laid the groundwork for some of the main themes of this tale. Hope you enjoy.

Revelations

Chapter 1

"Good morning Stormy." Is the familiar but unexpected early morning greeting from my employer and friend Dr. McDaniels as I pass the always open door of his office while completing my self imposed morning task of turning on all the lights in the patient rooms and making sure they are stocked sufficiently with the necessary equipment.

I smile cheerfully at the given nickname for me; he says it is because of the ever changing hue of my hazel eyes depending on my different moods and not the color of my wardrobe at the time. He does not believed that I have split personalities, just that my one personality could undergo very sudden and extremely dramatic shifts in character based on events that occur at any moment in my life, and that the manifestation of those shifts is the color changes of my eyes.

Entering the last room in the right corner of the perpendicular 'T' shaped corridor that make up the ten patients rooms, two Offices, restrooms, and break room of the Doctor's Office I chuckle lightly at the memory of the conversation where he first explained the method behind the origin of the cherished moniker.

He had stated that the shade of brown represented the open, friendly, easygoing and often times playful Cathy portion of my personality, while the shift to emerald green meant the arrival of the reserved, no nonsense, and very blunt Ms. Sheering part of my persona; then there was the pale grey which signaled the confidant, calm, and outspoken Catherine was present; and finally there was the rare blue tint that he felt usually spelled the arrival of the hurt, angry, and cynical Elizabeth character of my personality.

The astute doctor recently informed me in a concerned fatherly tone that he was sad to have seen so much blue this past year.

Returning to his office located two doors from the entrance of the main hallway along the west wall; I stand in the doorway looking intently at his aging yet well maintained form seated behind his desk in the center of the room.

I am not surprised to see him sitting behind his small Oak desk visually scanning over a couple sheets of paper which appeared to be taken from a small stack of papers on his desk in the moderately spaced room, just that he is sitting there at this early hour.

I am usually the first or second person here in the mornings along with our long time Physicians Assistant Mykela Jasmine getting things set up for the day ahead. He usually arrives promptly at 8:30 to start off his day.

Now that is not to say that the sight of him here at, a glance at my wrist watch reveals the time to be 7:12a.m., is not a pleasant one being that the man is most often the brightest spot of my whole day. My smile widens as a potent feeling of gratitude and compassion for the person before me flows throughout my chest, and I finally acknowledge his salutation.

"Good morning Stewart,' I say with great warmth and genuine affection, though I still receive the mental berating from my stern and respectful upbringing of addressing elders by their surnames proceeded by Mr., Ms. or Mrs. Though he is even against me using his deserved honorific of Dr., instead imploring me to forgo the formalities when alone together and treat him as a friend.

At the end of the day, that is exactly what I consider him, my dear friend; he has been one of my most trusted confidants in my topsy turvy life these past couple years. He has truly been my touchtone; and his advice, companionship, and respect have kept me afloat and sane in the face of my constant inner turmoil over the dissolution of my twelve year marriage to my ex husband Jim.

In truth, Stewart McDaniels has probably become my best friend in the world without any real effort on my part. It actually frightens me sometimes when I think about how much I have come to depend on him being my sole true male companion. I truly do not know what I would do without him; since he is without a doubt the most important man in my life.

"How are we feeling this morning Cathy?" He asks with his gravely voice, head still tilted down staring at the papers in his hands. I always jokingly tell him that the real reason he has so many female patients is because of his sexy older man Sam Elliot voice.

"I am actually feeling pretty spry this morning Stu; though am certain I should be asking you that very question, you do know it is 7:15 in the morning don't you?" I say moving further into the room and taking a seat in one the soft leather upholstered chairs opposite his desk.

Placing the papers in his hands down onto the desk in front of him in a neat little pile he finally raises his eyes to mine before he speaks next, "Yes ma'am I am quite aware, and I do say I am touched by your maternal concern over my well being." He answers with a twinkle in his eyes and mirth in his voice without an ounce of condescendence in his tone all the while smiling knowingly at me.

We both share a brief laugh at our usual flowing banter that perhaps releases some unknown tension from each of us from our own individual issues.

I stop short at the thought of Stewart having any issues and stare closely at his face and body language as my mind really goes into mother mode at the inkling of anything stressing this man who always seems so mentally and emotional impervious to negativity, "Is something the matter Stewart, something that may be bothering you; you know you can tell me anything?"

He shakes his head at my question as he slowly brings his own chuckle to end. "You are a wonderful and amazing woman Cathy, always remember that, okay?'

A short but telling sigh proceeds his next words, "No Cathy, nothing is amiss, at least nothing that warrants our immediate attention. I am merely here at this time in hopes of getting an early start on the day, since today promises to be a busy one.' He says opening a desk drawer to his left he uses for filing personnel files and sliding the papers previously in his hands inside of it before closing it again and rolling his straight back computer desk chair back from his desk and standing to reach for his white Physicians Lab coat hanging on a matching Oak standing coat rack stationed behind his desk between two large file cabinets.

"We have eleven new patients scheduled for this morning and afternoon on top of our regular check ups; added to that Sharon and Teresa are not coming in today, so you and Mykela will be tested." He finishes adjusting his coat and helping me to my feet before guiding me out of the office with his hand on the small of my back.

Not at all happy with his side stepping my question, since he always has been nothing but open and honest with me, I force my anxiety to recede into the back of my mind as a despised fear of mine attempts to rear its ugly head; that this man who has been my source of strength for so long now could become weakened by an outside cause.

If Stewart McDaniels can be broken down, then what hope did I have for surviving this life?

Quickly dismissing the thought, I put my game face on in preparation for the presumed hectic day ahead.

Chapter 2

The day has indeed turned out to be a chaotic one, which is somewhat welcome as it has assisted in diminishing my worry over whatever it is that Stewart was not telling me.

Mykela a twenty six year old kind hearted, and extremely efficient Puerto Rican mother of three beautiful children and myself along with our sole Medical Assistant today Jessica have managed to keep things flowing well enough that no one is complaining and Dr. McDaniels is not overwhelmed.

At the current time of 12:56pm we have dispatched seven of our new patients, and two others had called to reschedule. The small amount of walk-ins has certainly helped, and all of our regulars have been good about not needing to be instructed at every point.

Placing my head in my hands, I began messaging my temples and release a tired sigh into the still air of the small break room. It has been an insane last few days, what with the newly constant presence of my ex husband Jim in my daily life after willingly being absent from it for so long. I mean the man is calling me three times a day, emailing every morning, and has even come by the house twice since...well that is the other cause for the uptick in my anxiety level.

My surprise morning visitor of four days ago has left an incredible imprint on my psyche; and Jim's as well apparently. I know his increased interest in all things Catherine all of a sudden is a direct result to the vagueness, and evasive quality of my responses to his posed questions concerning the young black male he found sitting in my den on that interesting morning.

I have decided to put my issues with Jim on hold in favor of dealing with my piqued interest in the man I had only spoken to briefly, while nearly naked inside of my home might I add. Alexander Haden had certainly stirred something formerly dormant inside of me with simply a first impression; and also seemingly single handedly (as I had suspected) upon his exit from my home a few days ago caused a complete 180 degree turnaround from my prior dour outlook on my life.

I had worked up the courage to contact him yesterday from the small business card he had given me with his office number on it, only to be greeted by his voicemail. Quickly discarding my prepared speech for him, I nervously mumbled at the machine something about being available for lunch to talk about his genuineness on seeking to hold me to the ad I had foolishly placed so many months ago.

Unjustifiably disappointed all of last night at not being able to hear his voice live over the phone, I could not contain my elation at receiving his own left message on my voicemail this morning while driving in to work.

He confidently stated with a deep, masculine and incredibly sexy phone voice that he would be working through lunch today in order to make it to a doctor's appointment scheduled after work; so we could possibly meet tomorrow if it was acceptable to me.

I blush embarrassingly to myself in the empty break room at the memory of my immediate and enthusiastic verbal agreement at the voicemail message to his proposition of a Saturday lunch date. Thinking of that, I still have to call him back to actually agree and discuss meeting arrangements with him before the day is over.

Reaching for my cellular phone, I bring the display screen up, unlock the phone and am met with an incoming text message from Jim informing me that he plans to stop by the Doctors Office soon to give me something.

I groan at the mixed feelings Jim's recent influx of attention is bringing forth in me. For so long after he left I ached with wanting him to return to me, for him to want to know me and spend time with me again; to desire me like he did in the early years of our courtship and marriage. Yet he could not be bothered, having obviously found his true soul mate in a leggy blonde fellow Attorney at his law firm by the name of Deborah.

Now here he is all around me, and I cannot help but pitifully hope that it is because he is finally having second thoughts about deserting me, and quitting on our marriage, and wants to come home. I do not know if I would truly even take him back, but I also cannot say that I absolutely would not. He was the man I had promised to spend the rest of my life with after all; I mean I love...loved him; god I do not know what I am gonna do.

Searching for some distraction from my inner conflict, I am somewhat relieved by the thought that it is just about time for my lunch break.

The next instant finds Mykela strolling into the break room heading toward the refrigerator at the end of the small counter space along the North wall of the room carrying a take out bag from Dos Diablos from over on Hubbard Street and her customary bottle of V8 juice.

Placing her items inside of the 'fridge, she turns a smiling face in my direction, "How you doing mama, you look a little tired." She asks pleasantly, though there is an undertone of worry in her voice.

Besides Dr. McDaniels, Mykela has been a great inspiration to remain positive during my transition. Her approach is more subtle than Stewart's, but most times equally effective; it is not so much of what she says or does, but instead what she does not say or do. It is little things like the fact that she started not too long after I finally announced my separation from Jim to give me big, friendly hugs when parting at the end of every work day; or how she periodically texts' me funny little anecdotes she finds on the internet.

She is a very passionate woman, but she knows how to control her emotions, and I do not know if having children helps but she learned long ago it seems, that sometimes people do not need words from their friends when they are hurting emotionally, sometimes they only need to sit quietly next to them and lend strength.

I often wonder if I have shown this incredible woman just how much I appreciate her. Looking at her standing before me now awaiting a response to her question which I apparently have yet to offer, I cannot help but admire her quiet strength of character, and the warmth that she exudes to those she cares about.

"Yes 'Kela, I am a little tired; I've had a lot on my mind these past few days, but I am honestly feeling much better than recently." I finally say to her expectant expression.

She gives me that knowing look that says 'I know there is more you are not telling me, and there is no use hiding it now, because I will eventually find out.' Though I do not crack under the pressure this time, I merely smile in return and begin gathering my belongings to go to lunch.

"Well chica, I guess we will have to discuss the mystery man another time, 'cause I got the next two patients while Dr. McDaniels is in a phone conference. Oh and the chicken is good today at Diablos by the way." She states matter-of-factly while exiting the room with the same briskness she entered it moments before.

It takes me a couple seconds before I can close my mouth from my astonishment at Mykela's presumptuous yet partially correct implication that there is some new man in my life inciting such heavy thoughts.

Eight minutes later finds me casually walking toward 'Granos de Colombia' a small outdoor Cafe' three blocks up the street from the doctors' office which boasts world renowned coffee. I am feeling a little antsy after receiving a phone call from Jim my ex husband shortly after talking with Mykela. He had stated his impending arrival to my workplace for the lunch hour, so I suggested he meet me at this favored place of mine instead.

I spot him immediately only a mere twenty-five feet from the establishment. He is sitting at the one of the small French style umbrella featured Bistro tables placing an order with the waitress. I slow the steps of my approach to allow myself to admire his attractive features before arriving at his side.

He still looks dashingly handsome, with his medium length George Clooney like salt-n-pepper hair framing a broad forehead and narrow face, and lightly brushing the tops of the flat to his head ears. Not being able to see the rest of his features from my distance and angle, my sharp memory fills in the blanks for me.

I wistfully imagine his strong jaw line sloping down to a cleft chin I used to often bite down on when we would wrestle around in bed on lazy nights. I visualize his thin, straight soft lips that used to kiss me breathless while in his tight embrace standing in the doorway of our house after he had returned from a long case in another city. I recall his long, straight, and pointy nose I would always tease him about, because the openings to his nostrils were decidedly more oval then circular.

Jim rises from his chair as I finally arrive before him, "Hello Liz, you look lovely," he says while pulling me into a somewhat awkward hug in greeting. Though being gifted with the unexpected contact from this oh so familiar body, I quickly remove all awkwardness as I return the hug with gusto, wrapping my arms around and holding on to his large, solid form maybe a tad longer than necessary before finally separating from him.

"Hey Jim, thanks, and you don't look so shabby yourself." I lamely reply as I am momentarily taken aback by his larger then remembered physical presence. I have to force myself not to openly stare at the amazing breadth of his shoulders on display in the single breasted jacket of his dark grey suit.

Glancing up along his 6'3" frame to his cordial yet reserved countenance, I find myself becoming a little aroused remembering what is was like to have those same shoulders sweaty, naked and flexing above me while he drilled his satisfyingly large penis into my quivering sheath.

Don't go there Catherine, you have no idea what he is here to give you, and having lusty thoughts about the man who now belongs to someone else will only lead to disappointment when you have been making actual progress.

Taking heed to the little angel on my right shoulder, I dispel those thoughts and images as I place my purse on the ground next to my chair and settle into my seat at the table. The waitress, whose name I know to be Sarah from my frequent lunch trips here immediately comes over and asks me if I will have my usual, to which I answer in the positive.

"So I take it you come here fairly often then?" Jim asks while retaking his own seat across me at the small round table referring to Sarah's mention of my usual.

"For the past six months yeah, I like it; the employees are friendly and no one bothers me." I state as I fold my hands together in my lap and force myself to look confidently at the man who was once my other half.

"Oh, I thought you didn't drink coffee, said the caffeine could be deadly after a long period of ingesting." He says nearly quoting verbatim my nervous spiel from our first date. I smile lightly hoping we are both currently sharing the memory of that unforgettable evening all those years ago.

"Well, I don't..." I am interrupted by the waitress Sarah arriving at our side and placing a cappuccino and slice of pecan pie down in front of him as well as my 'usual' on the table in front of me followed by her standard line of 'there you go darlings, enjoy' before leaving us alone once again.

Jim laughs a little as I gesture to my large blueberry muffin and bottle of Non Pulp orange juice. The sound of his laughter stirs something at the edge of my splintered heart, as I recall how I used to make him laugh so easily and how it always made me feel so close to him.

"So, still no coffee right?" He asks, chuckle still present in his voice.

"Right." Is my own immediate response as I tear off a piece of my delicious smelling muffin and begin to eat it; savoring the wonderful taste on my tongue as I wait for him to move the conversation along to the reason he is here.

"So how have you been Liz, I've been worried about you lately." He says, and I nearly choke on my muffin at the serious tone of his statement, and the genuine concerned look on his face. I wave off his rising form from coming to my aid as I clear my throat and open my juice to take a sip before speaking again.