A Baby for Tina

"Nice car!" she said approvingly. It was a Mercedes, one of the little two-seat Sportster models that look fast even when they're sitting still. It was midrange; far from being the nicest, flashiest, or fastest horse in Mercedes' impressive stable, it also wasn't the horse you used to plow the field, either. Well, not unless you wanted your fields plowed very, very quickly, that is.

"Thanks," he replied. He pulled away from the curb for what she could immediately tell was going to be a very fast trip.

"I never asked what it is you do for a living." She realized, to her embarrassment, that they had spent so much time talking about her and Tim that they had hardly talked about Brad at all. She had learned from experience that a good way to initiate a conversation with a man was to ask about his job.

"Oh, I'm a businessman," he said vaguely, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "Basically, I have two trays on my desk: one marked 'IN' and the other marked 'OUT'. My job is to move things from the 'IN' box to the 'OUT' box. The hard part is, people keep sticking things in my 'IN' box."

"I know you stuck something in my inbox last night," she giggled. "Only thing is, I don't think you could make up your mind: you'd put it in, then pull it back out, and then turn around and put it right back in again! Not that I'm complaining. Oh, believe me, I'm not complaining one bit!"

He laughed. "Basically, that's what I do: I'm a professional paper shuffler. It hardly compares to an exciting job like being a firefighter or a doctor. But I do okay; I have several other paper shufflers under me, the pay's good, and best of all, I can take time off pretty much anytime I like. So if you call me up and say, 'Hey, let's get together Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday', I can do it."

"Oh, that's fantastic!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't quite sure how things were going to work out in that regard."

"What do you mean?"

"I work for the hospital. I have my own little office and office staff, but I don't have my own practice, so I don't get to say what days I have off. I get three days off a week, but they're not necessarily weekend days. I get every other weekend off, but my three days off on the other week float."

"Well, maybe you'll have a practice of your own someday."

"Maybe," she said unenthusiastically.

"Can I ask you a question?" Brad asked. "What did Tim tell you I do for a living? Maybe he never talked about it, but if he did, I'm curious. My brother and I loved each other, but there were some things we never saw eye to eye on. One of those things was over what I do for a living."

She stared at her hands in her lap, with an embarrassed grin on her face. "I...don't think you really want me to answer that."

"Yeah, I do. I'm not going to get mad. I promise. You and I talked about last night how Tim didn't know the meaning of 'tact', so I know it's not going to be pretty. I won't insist that you tell me, but I'd really like to know, just for curiosity's sake."

"You sure?" she asked carefully.

"Lay it on me."

"Alright. Just remember, this is what Tim said. It's not how I feel. Okay?"

"Okay."

"He told me one time that you were, quote, 'a beach bum surfer who's never done an honest day's work in his life.' For what it's worth, I didn't believe it then and I certainly don't believe it now."

Brad just laughed and shook his head. "That's just Tim being Tim. I don't know how many times when we were younger Brad tried to get me to follow him into firefighting. I told him my destiny lay along a different path. He eventually accepted that and quit hassling me, but that didn't mean he liked it."

They arrived at the airport. Brad insisted on parking the car and escorting her to the Security checkpoint. When they got there, she looked at him with a pained expression.

"Brad, I don't want to say goodbye. If I didn't have to be at the hospital for that 12:00 meeting, I'd get a later flight. I swear I would."

"I know," he soothed, stroking her hair. "I don't want to say goodbye, either. I meant what I said back at the hotel: I want to see you again, and soon. I expect you to call me when you get home so we can pick a date."

"I will," she promised. She kissed him deeply and for a long time. Then she turned and walked off toward the security queue. She made it maybe a half-dozen steps, then paused, and walked back to him. "Wait," she said. "There's something else I need to talk to you about. I've been trying to figure out how to bring this up, but for the life of me, the words just won't come. But now we're out of time and I can't stand the thought of getting on that airplane without talking it over with you."

"Okay."

"When Tim died, I sought solace among friends. One of those friends is Dr. John Cooper, in Radiology. John is the same age as I am, and single. He was friends with both Tim and me, and after Tim died, John and I became even closer friends. 'Special' friends. You understand?"

"Friends with benefits, you mean."

"Exactly," she nodded. "I want to remain friends with John and I plan to do so, but if you ask me to, I will tell him the 'with benefits' part of our friendship has to end."

"Okay, well -- "

"Brad," she said softly, looking meaningfully in his eyes and gently squeezing his hand. "I want you to ask me to."

Brad looked at the need in her eyes and understood: don't ask me to end it if you plan on this being just a 'fling' between us, but if you want us to try to have a future together, then please ask. He didn't have to think about it at all. He clasped his arms around her and looked warmly into her eyes.

"Tina," he said confidently and gave her a warm smile. "I'd like you to tell your friend that the 'special' part of your friendship is over, please."

She searched his face, her pretty blue eyes looking up at him hopefully. "Are you sure?"

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life," he whispered, kissing her tenderly. When they broke their kiss, Tina looked happy and relieved.

"I will," she smiled, looking at him with a face filled with hope and admiration.

They kissed again, much more briefly this time, and she walked off to the checkpoint. Brad stood off to the side while she waited her turn in line. When her turn finally came, she looked his direction, smiled at him, and blew him a kiss. After she cleared into the sterile area and started walking to her gate, he watched her until she was out of sight.

Brad went from the airport to his office downtown and tried to work in order to keep his mind off of her. After forty-five minutes of not getting much done, he gave himself permission to spend the day goofing off. He was the boss, after all, and therefore entitled to goof off now and then, dammit.

He opened a web browser and went to a flight tracking website. He typed in Tina's flight number, and a moment later a map appeared showing her approximate location, altitude, and speed. He mentally transported himself to the airplane, imagining himself in the seat beside her, holding her hand. Or better yet, lying beside one another. She was flying first class. They could simply lift the armrest, turning their seat pair into a small but comfortable loveseat, get a blanket, and lay side-by-side as the world zipped by below them at nine miles a minute. Maybe they would use the opportunity to quietly and discreetly join or renew their membership in the Mile High Club, but probably not. That wasn't really the point, was it? No. It had felt so good to hold her the night before and this morning, and to sleep in each other's arms. That was why he wished he was on that airplane beside her: just to be able to hold her for three more hours.

It was only two days ago, in this very office and seated in this very chair, when Tina had called him. He meant what he had told her at dinner: even though she was now only his brother's widow and not his wife, he still considered her a part of the family, so he had been happy to hear from her. She had asked when would be a good time for her to fly in and have dinner with him. She had something she wanted to talk to him about, face-to-face, not over the phone, she said. She gave no hint or clue as to what it was about. Whatever it was, though, he knew it was important enough to get her on an airplane and fly three hours to see him, and that made it important to him. He told her he'd be out of town the following week, but anytime in the next four days was good, and her reply was that she'd see him the next day.

Could it have been only two days? No, it hadn't even been that long. He had met her for dinner at 7:00 the evening before. Now it was what? A few minutes after 10:00 the next morning. Fifteen hours. Less than that, even. Was it possible that his life had actually changed so much in such a small space of time?

Brad had never been very lucky with women. Oh, he had been lucky and highly successful in business. He seemed to have the Midas touch there. But the opposite sex was an entirely different matter. Tim had gotten all of the luck in that arena. The two brothers were identical in nearly every way. True, Tim was somewhat larger and in better shape, but Brad was hardly a slob. He was in excellent shape for a man of forty-one, and in what would be considered very good shape for a man of any age. Yet put the two of them both at a party and women were almost magnetically drawn to Tim before he even opened his mouth. Tim had won Tina, after all, and if he hadn't died in that fire six months ago, she would still be his.

Brad, on the other hand, the story of his adult life vis-a-vis the opposite sex had been one of heartbreak, and disappointment, of women he had loved who had claimed to love him back, but actually hadn't, and of promises made and promises broken. He had kept his promises faithfully, but others had not necessarily kept theirs to him.

Brad had long ago accepted the inevitability of someday dying lonely and alone, surrounded by the trappings of success, but with no one to weep over his grave and no children to carry on his legacy. But suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, there was a flicker of hope that he might avoid that fate. Tina didn't love him, and he didn't love her. He knew that. The idea of "love at first sight" was a myth. A fantasy. Anything he felt for her right now -- and he was feeling a lot for her -- was infatuation. Nothing more. Yet there was something different, something unidentifiable with Tina, something he had never felt before in his life, with any woman. It wasn't love, but could it possibly be a seed of love, something that if properly cared for, nurtured, and fed, could one day grow into love? He didn't know, but he was willing to try to find out. He hoped Tina was, too.

He opened another browser window and searched for her hospital. Ah, there it was. Beautiful place it was, too; handsomely landscaped, immaculately maintained, with buildings that were designed by architects who clearly considered form to be nearly as important as function.

And there she was: Tina herself! There was a section of the home page that contained rotating images of select staff members. He had mostly ignored it; after all, aside from Tina, who did he know there anyway? But then her picture had caught his attention, and he clicked on her beautiful face. He was redirected to a staff profile page, with a brief bio about her. Though only a few paragraphs, it was glowing, to say the least.

"Wow," Brad said aloud.

"Wow" was the only word for it: she had done her residency at the world-renowned Mayo Clinic, had either won or been nominated for a number of highly prestigious internship awards during that time, and the bio went on to describe her as a "gifted pulmonologist" and "brilliant researcher". An Internet search on her name revealed that, in spite of her young age, she had nonetheless already established herself as one of the best in the world in her chosen specialty. One authoritative website hinted remotely that she possibly could one day be a candidate for the Nobel Prize if an initiative of hers to combat tuberculosis bore fruit.

So. Brad sat back from his computer in awe. She was modest, too. If half those accolades were true of him, he expected he would make sure every person he came into contact with knew who he was. Yet she had not so much as hinted at any of it. "Just another doctor, doing the best she can" was how she had described herself earlier at dinner, long before she "popped the question", so to speak. And she cared deeply. Brad had seen the pain and regret on her face when she told him about the patient she had accidentally killed, and he saw the passion brighten her face as she talked about the family she was meeting with later in the day.

"And you called her a 'sex therapist' and a ten-dollar whore," he said to himself, chuckling darkly. Yes, she had asked him to treat her like that, and it had all been play, for the sake of heightening the sexual experience for both of them. But you still don't kick Superman in the nuts, even if he asks you to.

He did some more web surfing, played a couple of computer games, and fielded some phone calls as he waited for her call. He periodically refreshed the flight tracking page to check her progress. She finally called at a quarter after twelve. He was a little surprised to hear from her at that time.

"Hey, sweetie, I'm home," she told him.

"What happened to your noon meeting? I figured you had gone straight to the hospital from the airport."

"The meeting's still on. Two hour time difference, remember?" she giggled. "It's only 10:15 here,"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Oops. Have a good flight?"

"It was okay, I guess. I slept almost the whole way. Well, except for when the flight attendants woke me up for breakfast. Remind me next time to borrow a 'Do Not Disturb' door hanger from the hotel. The really upsetting thing was, they woke me out of a dream about you."

"Oh, really? And what were we doing in this dream?" he chuckled.

"It was kind of weird, actually. You and I were on this little tiny island, just the two of us, I didn't have any clothes on, and we were making love on the beach. I don't know where we were, but it was gorgeous."

"Hmm, interesting," was all he said. "Alright, young lady, no more 'Gilligan's Island' reruns for you before bed." She giggled in reply.

"I'm sitting here on my living room sofa with my laptop and calendar open, just like I promised. So, when is it you want an appointment for, Mr. Miller?"

As soon as possible, was the first thought that came to mind. "Uh, week after next."

"Week after next. Well, it looks like I have an opening Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of that week. Do you want to go ahead and schedule that?"

"Yes, please. I really need your help, Doctor. I've got this recurring swelling of my penis."

"Well, I'm sure we can take care of that. We have a number of effective therapies we can use. My personal favorite is one called DTD. I've also had excellent results with ETD and FTD therapies as well. Those acronyms stand for, 'Dominate the Doctor', 'Eat the Doctor', and 'Fuck the Doctor', respectively. Are you familiar with them?"

"Only one brief session. It wasn't long enough, though. Not nearly long enough."

"Yes, well, that's why we have you scheduled for a three-day appointment. Now, Mr. Miller, you do understand that this is a chronic problem, not an acute one, don't you? These treatments will work, but they must be repeated on a regular basis, since the problem will return."

"I understand. Is there anything I need to bring with me to the appointment?"

"Yes. You should bring a large box of condoms. Anything else you bring is welcome, but not necessary."

"How about a 36-count box? And what is 'anything else'?"

"Yes," she sighed, "I suppose a 36-count box might be sufficient. You should probably bring a second box that size as well. If airport security gives you a hard time about that many condoms, remind them that it is a three-day trip: 72 hours, 72 condoms.

"And as for what 'anything else' is, I mean toys, games, lotions, lingerie, whips, chains, gags. You know, the sort of thing you bring to any doctor appointment." Finally she couldn't keep up the charade any longer, and burst out laughing.

"Seriously, Brad, you can bring anything you like. I'm open to pretty much anything. But if you show up empty handed, that's fine, too."

"Mm, maybe some lingerie. You know how much I love stockings. But I'll need your sizes."

"I'll email you that information later." She paused, and then turned serious.

"I'm going to have to go," she said. "I want to take another shower before work, and then I have to leave for the hospital. I want to review some lab work on my patient and look at his x-rays before the meeting." Her voice darkened. "It's, um, not going to be good news. I'm going to buy him as much time as I can, but at 12:00 today I have to sit down with a husband and wife who are about my age and basically tell her that in twelve months or so, she's going to be a widow."

"Mm. That's a hard thing to do," he agreed quietly. He felt bad for Tina, but at the same time he was thankful he wasn't the one who would have to tell the family that. Damn. He could again hear the passion and pain in her voice. He remembered her more-than-impressive credentials. He wondered how soon the woman would be a widow if it was anyone other than Tina caring for her husband. It would be less than twelve months, he was certain. He wanted to tell her that, but he didn't feel it was appropriate just then.

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish... Well, never mind. May I call you later? It'll be late. Maybe as late as 10:00 or 11:00 your time." Her voice was grim.

"I'll be awake," he promised. And if I'm not, I'll wake up, he thought but didn't say. That's how important you are to me.

She hung up, and Brad finished the rest of the day at the office. After work, he went to the gym, worked out, and played basketball with a couple of friends. It was just before 11:30 when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"It's me," she said. "Did I wake you?"

"No," he said truthfully. "Are you home?"

"I'm in my office, sitting here with the lights off, wearing my white lab coat."

"Oh, okay."

She laughed a little. "No, you don't understand. I'm wearing my white lab coat. And nothing else."

"Oh!"

"My meeting went better than I expected it would. The husband and wife both cried, but not as much as I thought they would. They said they love each other and take each day as a gift and live it to its fullest, without assuming there's going to be another, so when I told them they don't have a whole lot of tomorrows left, it changes nothing. I was humbled by that. Tim and I tried to be that way. I hope you and I can as well."

"Me, too," he said quietly. Neither said anything for a long time, both thinking their own private thoughts.

"I know he's in the best possible hands, Tina. You're the best in the world. One of the best, anyway. I was curious about what your hospital looked like, so I went to the website today. Your profile was on the home page. Please don't think I'm spying on you, because I'm not, but I saw your credentials today online. All I can say is, 'Wow'."

"I suppose I couldn't hide them from you forever," she whispered sadly. "As much as I wish I could."

"I don't understand. Why would you want to hide them at all?"

"Because I want to be just your girlfriend. I want us to do fun things together and care about each other and have lots and lots of really hot sex. That's all I want. I don't want to be a superstar. I want you to see me as more than just a doctor. I want you to see me as the woman who cares for you. When you talk to your friends about me, I want you to tell them things like, 'She can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch' or, 'She fucks like there's no tomorrow', not, 'Hey, guess what Tina's doing today: she's giving a presentation at Harvard University.' Please, Brad. I've been a woman a lot longer than I've been a doctor. There has to be a place in my life where I can hang up the lab coat and the stethoscope and be just plain old Tina Miller. Please let me do that."