The Alphabet of Love Ch. 16

In the morning I called Dr. Couslard and Dr. Miliano after I'd had plenty of coffee. Dr. Couslard seemed more irritated than Dr. Miliano, but I couldn't help that. Shit happens, I thought. And a lot of shit was happening to me right now.

I checked out of the motel and loaded my things in the car again. I hoped I could get Derek's bag into the small area behind the front seats. I considered going back to my apartment to dump my stuff, but decided to wait until Derek was with me. Faldo was going to be really whiny by the time we got there.

Since I had nowhere to go, I spent hours at the airport. I ran down the battery on my iPad and had to recharge it. I napped. I drank more coffee, browsed in the overpriced airport shops outside the secure area. Derek called me during his layover in Minneapolis. His flight might be late, a snowstorm had come in and they were clearing the runway.

God, I thought, how much longer? I was exhausted. And we'd be going home to my disaster area. The very thought made me want to say fuck it to everything I owned and start over somewhere else.

Finally he arrived. We kissed and held each other. Thankfully it didn't take long to collect his bag and I drove us to my apartment.

"This weather is a big change," he said as we sped down the freeway in pouring rain.

"This is winter in Seattle," I nodded.

"Guess I won't need my parka," he shrugged it off, though it wasn't easy in the limited space in my sporty car. "So how bad is it? Your place?"

"Pretty bad. Furniture turned over, things broken. The cops took all kinds of photos and dusted for prints but they'll probably never catch them. I changed all my passwords but I hope I did it in time. I checked my bank while I was waiting for you and didn't see any weird transactions."

"That's good. Keep checking."

"I will. I'm really glad you're here, Derek."

He ran his hand over my arm gently. "I was going crazy worrying about you. I promised Couslard I'd bring you to the clinic and meet your physicians. I think he wants to parade me around."

I laughed. "That's funny, because he acted all butthurt when I talked with him. Maybe having you around will make him more amenable to me."

"I'll set him straight, don't worry about that," he assured me.

"He's afraid I'm going to leave and go to Boston."

"He should be."

"You know, after all this - I'm just about ready to say fuck it all and go with you. I've always liked being on my own, but I can't tell you how good it is to have you here. Like you belong here."

"With you," he added.

We reached my apartment complex and he followed me upstairs. He took the key from me and unlocked the door, peering inside. I saw his mouth drop open, and heard a faint meow.

"This how it was when you left?" he asked me.

I looked inside. "Unfortunately."

"Here's your cat," he said, stepping over Faldo as he went inside. Faldo stood looking at him as if to say, who in the hell are you?

"Hi," I said to the cat. "I suppose you're hungry."

"He looks well fed," Derek observed as he picked his way across the living room. He surveyed the kitchen, continued into the bedroom, and came back shaking his head. "We've got a lot of work to do."

"Tell me about it," I sighed, dumping food into Faldo's dish.

Derek didn't waste time getting down to business. Together we uprighted the tumbled chairs and tables. We manhandled the armoire off my bed, though the clothes and accessories still lay scattered all over the bed and floor. He helped me pick up broken items, deciding what was worth fixing and what to throw out. We replaced books in bookcases. We made three trips outside to the dumpster. My life, I thought. Pieces of my life going in the trash as if they never mattered at all.

After a few hours, things were looking way better. I'd even hung all my clothes back in the armoire, replaced all the belts, purses, and shoes on the upper and lower shelves. I ran a vacuum over the rugs, loud clinks and clunks sounding when I picked up pieces of broken items. Faldo mostly hid during all this clamor; he had a hiding place in my bedroom for times like this.

"Well," Derek said at last, hands on his hips, surveying the apartment, "I'd say we deserve a reward for all our hard work."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, hoping it involved ordering takeout and collapsing on the couch.

"Taking you out somewhere romantic for dinner."

"Oh, Derek -"

"Don't argue. I know you're tired. But we need to get out of here for a little while, recharge. When we come back I'll make love to you and then you can sleep."

I laughed out loud. "You have it all planned out?"

"What do you say?"

How could I argue? So we showered and dressed, and he treated me to a lovely dinner. We talked mostly about work, and I found myself excited to show him around the clinic, introduce him to my colleagues. It would be good for him to see that we, too, were doing important work with renal patients and that I was needed here. Getting me away wasn't going to be as easy as all that, despite my moment of weakness earlier.

Back at my place, he did indeed make love to me. Having him in my bed was a dream come true; I'd fantasized about it ever since I'd come back from Vegas. Even after he fell asleep I lay there beside him, stroking his face and hair, thinking about having him like this for the rest of our lives.

He woke me in the morning, a cup of coffee in hand. "For you, my love," he kissed me. "I told Couslard we'd be in by nine."

"Ugh," was my response, but that was better than having to be there at seven. We lingered over coffee and yogurt, and Faldo even made an appearance. He came to meow at me for food, but looked warily at Derek. He certainly didn't take to him like he had to Trevor. But how much of that was because of the trauma he'd been through? I felt more tenderly toward this creature, felt badly for what he'd had to endure. I gave him a few more strokes while he ate and again he let me do it. Maybe we'd be friends eventually, I thought.

Everyone wanted to meet the famous Dr. Derek Wiley, a star among renal physicians. Dr. Couslard swept in to take Derek on a tour of the clinic, leaving most to think that he'd been responsible for getting him here. I swallowed my irritation and let them go. I had work of my own to concentrate on. It niggled at me, though. I'd wanted to take Derek around, introduce him, show off what we were doing here. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't even be here.

My mood had soured by lunchtime. I figured Couslard and Miliano would take Derek out to lunch for three hours and a few martinis. I wouldn't see him again until it was time to leave. Derek texted me to say he was going to lunch with them and asked if I was coming along. I told him no, I had work to do. He said he loved me and would see me later.

Whatever.

I ate a container of yogurt and a package of nuts for lunch. The whole time I wondered if I were to marry Derek, is this how it would be? Shoved aside because he was the great renal researcher, hero to kidney patients and nephrologists everywhere? And I was just some hack doctor, plugging away at meaningless work? I'd had some crazy idea that we were equals on some level, both MDs, both professionals. I might just as well have been the shop girl who catches the rich man's eye until he gets a better offer.

Oh, I worked myself into righteous indignation, so that when my phone rang I was ready to bite the head off whoever it was. It turned out to be the Normandy Park Police. They'd got back results from the fingerprints they'd submitted to a national database. Did I know any of these people? Rogelio Lopez, Cary Graves, Trevor Banks? Oh hell, they'd find out who Trevor was without my help anyway, so I copped to knowing him. The other two, I'd never heard of. Besides me and Trevor no one else had been in my apartment in weeks.

They seemed to have backed off on the idea that Trevor was responsible since they'd found other prints, and because the other two guys had extensive criminal records in Nevada and California. Trevor, they told me, had one misdemeanor disturbing the peace for loud music, in Boise, back when he was barely twenty years old. Those were his party boy days.

The police said they were looking for the other two, but of course a simple breaking and entering, and theft charges wouldn't grant them a lot of effort. The two were either long gone, thinking they'd got what they wanted from stealing my computer and files, or they were still lurking around in hopes of killing me. Right now, I didn't care which. It would serve Derek right, going out to schmooze with Miliano and Couslard without me. He could marry one of them after I was dead from a sniper's bullet.

I reviewed the notes Dr. Couslard had left for me, data he wanted me to work into an intelligible table for the next physicians' staff meeting. I gritted my teeth as I worked, considering telling him I wanted to blow this job and go back to being a regular old nephrologist, seeing my patients and working one-on-one with them. At least that was rewarding and I felt like I made a difference. This? My skills certainly weren't being challenged. I was getting paid more than I deserved for what I was doing. And I missed my patients.

I kept looking at the clock, wondering what Derek was up to, if those three had just blown off the clinic for the whole day. Maybe they'd just gone to a bar to drink and talk shop. Couslard didn't strike me as much of a drinker but you never knew. If Derek wasn't back here by the time we closed, I would leave without him, I told myself.

But I knew I wouldn't. I wanted him to go home with me, to forget about how they'd snubbed me, to have it be just the two of us. Like it should be. I had no idea how long he was going to stay in Seattle; he had his own work in Boston, no doubt he'd had to cancel presentations, engagements, appointments to be here. I knew he couldn't stay long.

Around four, Dr. Couslard returned to our offices, followed by Derek. They were in a conversation about patient hospital admission protocols. I bent my head over the computer and ignored them.

Derek pulled up a chair and sat beside me. "Sorry I was gone so long," he said, leaning in to see what I was working on. "Getting a lot done?"

I didn't turn to him. "I've been busy," was all I said.

"As soon as you're ready, I'll take you out to dinner. Mark recommended a quiet little French café not far from here."

"Mark?" I finally looked at him.

He nodded. "Dr. Couslard."

"Oh." I knew that was his first name, but had never addressed him by it. I doubted 'Mark' had ever taken his wife to a romantic café; he wouldn't even buy her a diamond necklace.

"Do you feel all right?" Derek asked, concern in his brown eyes.

"Sure, I'm fine," I said dismissively. He was being sweet to me, as if he had no idea that I was upset and feeling denigrated. Miliano and Couslard had fauned over him the whole day and I'd been left behind. But then, would I really have wanted to be with them? I might have learned something, but otherwise, no. I probably would have felt like a third wheel.

Dr. Couslard spoke up from his desk, where he'd sat and was presumably checking his email or something. "Dr. Westland, why don't you take off for the day," he suggested. Oh sure. He'd say that because Derek was here.

"Great idea," Derek chimed in, smiling, encouraging me.

So I closed out my computer and said goodbye to Dr. Couslard. To my shock, as we were going out, he told me to take the next day off. In disbelief, I agreed.

"Holy shit," I whispered to Derek as we walked down the hall to the elevator, "he's never done that before."

"I told him what you've been through recently. He said you never complained or asked for anything. He felt bad."

He felt bad. I bet.

"He did," Derek sensed my doubt.

"I hope you didn't make me sound like some kind of victim."

"Of course not," he followed me into the elevator. "He's quite impressed with you, actually. He says you're smart and insightful. I can tell he's scared to death that you're going to gallop away to Boston with me."

I laughed, beginning to relax a little.

"I missed you today. I wish you'd come with us. We talked about you. They both don't want to lose you, they know you're a huge asset to the clinic. Miliano came right out and asked me what was going on with us."

"Really?" I asked, just as the elevator reached the ground floor. We stepped out.

"He did. I told him I'm in love with you and I hope to marry you."

"Derek!" I stopped and turned to him. He nearly ran into me.

"What?" a smile played on his face. "It's the truth."

"I just - I --"

He took my hand. "It's only a few blocks from here. You mind walking?"

So we walked to the French restaurant. It was quite small and I'd never noticed it before. In the window were framed reviews from local newspapers, touting the quality of the food. 'Seattle's Hidden Gem,' one of them opined. How original.

We ordered wine and eventually chose entrees. Derek took my hand in his, gazing at me. "What would you like to do tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I never expected to have the day off. I'm behind on laundry."

He laughed. "We are not spending the day doing your laundry."

"Why not?" I tossed my head coquettishly. "In between loads we could be frolicking in bed."

"Well, now, there's an idea," he smiled.

I sighed, sipped wine, and shrugged. "We can do anything you like."

"How about shop for engagement rings?" he suggested hopefully.

"I don't know," I said, not looking at him.

"What don't you know?" his voice was soft.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that step."

He nodded, released my hand, and sat back. "I talked with my attorney today. Brenda doesn't want the house. She just wants a lump sum settlement and an interest in the clinic."

"Your nephrology clinic?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, ever since I took it over from the doctor who brought me in, it's been very profitable. She knows that. My attorney argued that, as a non-physician, she shouldn't have an equal interest to mine, but she'll have enough to live like a goddamn queen for the rest of her life."

"What if you sell it?" I asked.

He gave me a funny look. "Why would I do that?"

"I mean - if you retired or something." I didn't tell him I'd entertained thoughts of him leaving Boston altogether.

"She'd have to agree to sell her interest at the same time, I suppose, or agree to whomever I wanted to sell it to. That'll all be spelled out in the settlement."

I nodded. "It sounds like things are moving along."

"Slowly," he sighed. "She was in such a hurry at first, now that she's secured a steady income from me contingent on the settlement she's in no rush to finish the divorce. But I'll make sure it's finalized as soon as possible."

Our food had just been served and I'd taken a delicious first bite when two men approached our table. One of them looked vaguely familiar.

"Doctor Westland?" he said. He wore a suit and tie under a rumpled rain coat.

I glanced at Derek, then at him. "Yes, I'm Doctor Westland."

"Detective Sains with Normandy Park PD. We've been watching your apartment to see if the people responsible for the break-in return. We apprehended a suspect this afternoon attempting to pick the lock of your door."

"That's great!" I cried.

But Derek held up a hand. "Wait a minute. How did you know she'd be here?"

Uh oh. He was right. The only person who knew where we were going was Dr. Couslard, and I doubted they'd tracked him down.

Detective Sains looked a bit sheepish. "We've been following you."

"What!" I cried indignantly. A few people looked toward us.

"This is quite rude, interrupting our meal like this," Derek told them, getting to his feet. At six-two, he stood over the policemen.

"Trevor Banks," the second one pointed at him.

"I am certainly not Trevor Banks," Derek informed him.

"So you were following me the other night?" I wanted to know.

"Yes, ma'am. You lost us at that McDonald's drive-thru. That was pretty sharp."

"Jesus, I thought someone was trying to kill me!'

The waiter came to our table. "Is everything all right?" he looked around at the four of us.

"Yes," Derek nodded. "These two were just leaving."

"Actually, we need you to come and see if you can identify the man we caught," said Detective Sains.

"After we finish our meal, we'll consider it," Derek told him, resuming his seat across from me.

"We don't need you, sir, we need Doctor Westland."

I shook my head. "You might need him, too. He was with me in Nevada."

"Doctor Wiley?"

"Yes," Derek said.

"Then by all means, yes, we'd like to have you take a look as well."

"Fine," he responded curtly. "Excuse us while we have our dinner, and we'll be there in an hour or two."

The detectives looked at each other. "We'll be waiting."

"Christ," Derek said under his breath.

"At least they caught someone," I said, hoping to assuage his irritation.

"It's not going to be one of those murderers. They wouldn't be doing penny-ante shit like breaking into apartments."

"Even if they were hoping I'd be there to kill me?"

He shrugged. "This feels all weird to me. There's something else going on."

"Like what?"

"Maybe your two-bit surgeon hired someone to check up on you."

"Oh come on. Trevor wouldn't do that."

He eyed me.

"Well, he wouldn't!" I asserted.

"You notice they didn't say why they were following you," he let it go and

resumed eating, and sipped wine.

"I did," I nodded. "I'm guessing they were hoping to find someone else following me, too. You know, when they investigated the break-in they all acted like I was paranoid, that whoever did it was just after shit they could sell fast. They must have talked to the cops in Boulder City."

"Pretty shoddy police work if they didn't."

"I hate to say this," I sighed, "but this could go on for months or years. Who knows when or if they'll catch the murderers but up until they do, they'll be trying to kill us because they think we witnessed something."

"Then we have to get the word to their gang or whatever it is that we didn't see shit," he countered. "Because we didn't."

"That should have been in the police reports," I said, the fact finally dawning on me.

Derek pointed at me. "You're right. So they should know we didn't see enough to identify anyone or their car. Then what's going on?"

"Maybe we'll find out when we go take a look at this guy they arrested," I said hopefully.