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“You shouldn’t have done that,” I tell him. Totally lying and so glad that he did. There’s no way I would have had the confidence, let alone the contacts to pull that off.
“Friend of the family?” I ask him after kissing him as many thank you’s as I can muster.
“For a while, we were the only family each other had,” Mark reminds me.
“And anything that will give you that second shot at what you want to do is fine by me,” he adds.
It’s so refreshing to have someone support me for once.
I love my dad, but if he knew I wanted to be a doctor, he’d do everything in his power to stop it.
Mark’s doing everything he can to make it happen, but I know I’ll have a lot of work to do. If I get accepted.
I wince at the thought though.
Dad finding out, his reaction to me studying medicine.
Dear God, his reaction to Mark and me.
“Let me handle your dad, too,” Mark says reassuringly, holding me closer and reading my thoughts as his body comforts me.
“And let’s get ready, for heaven’s sakes. We only have a few hours before we need to be at the airport,” he adds with a smile. Both of us keen to get there now, knowing what’s at the end of the travel rainbow.
I think about the few things I know I could pack. My passport, which is good to go. Some clothes, a shower pack.
“Anything you need?” he asks, his smile broadening as he scans my body with hungry eyes.
“What about visas and stuff like that…and money?” I hear my logic blurting out of sheer nerves now. Knowing I have neither.
This is actually happening.
“Everything has been arranged. Private hospital business,” Mark grins and then frowns just as quickly.
“Money, we have plenty of. I meant what do you need? What do you want to take, maybe some new clothes? That swimsuit I’ll never let anyone else see you in?” he teases.
“Maybe even some new lingerie?” his voice growls gently, moving dangerously close to the place we only just managed to move back from moments ago.
“Can we make just one more call?” I ask, feeling the familiar stab of guilt in my chest.
“Your dad?” Mark asks nodding, of course.
He dials the recovery ward directly and gets an update. Like he said, if there’s a real problem, they’ll call him directly even though there’s a new post-surgical team in place now that he’s officially on holiday.
But Dr. Love being Dr. Love, always insists on being kept in the loop, especially with this patient.
It’s never easy hearing my dad spoken about like just some patient, but it’s Mark’s job, and I trust his judgment a hundred and ten percent.
Signing off from the hospital he nods with a creased mouth.
“He’s doing well, but will most likely be sedated for the next few days as a precaution. We’ll see him as soon as we get back if you want?” he asks, but as much as I hope dad’s okay it’s the last thing on my mind right now.
Seeing him, knowing just what he’ll say once he has enough strength to be his old self again.
Kind of dreading it actually.
“Tell you what,” Mark says with renewed enthusiasm, “Just take your passport, we can stop on the way and grab anything you want.”
His eyes dance at the suggestion, but I’m still not sure. I feel awkward having him pay for everything like this, but he reminds me I’d better get used to it.
“I hate packing anyway, let’s just get a few outfits and some new luggage,” he suggests, practically talking over me as he literally pushes me out the door, both of us laughing at how crazy and spontaneous all this feels.
How wonderful it all is.
I lock up and with my arm hooked in Mark’s, he walks me to his car opening the door for me like a true gentleman and we’re away.
The main shopping strip I frequent is a mall about ten miles away, but Mark is headed downtown on the way to the airport.
To stores that have one name, which is usually always a brand name.
Stores I’d never shop in, but Mark only shrugs when I try to tell him that.
“We actually have plenty of time,” he says, glancing at his watch as he parks right out front of a group of stores, flipping over a sign in his window.
He explains with a touch of guilt that he has MD plates as well as a Doctor in attendance notification for his car.
“I’ve never used it before,” he protests when I gasp in amazement. “But, who knows? Somebody could start choking, happens all the time,” he quips.
“I hope it doesn’t,” I murmur, knowing I have to wait for him to open my side now.
If I don’t let him spoil me, I know Mark will think he’s doing something wrong.
