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“Hannah left me,” he said.
“What do you mean she left you?” his father asked.
“We saved a man yesterday who was having a heart attack. While doing CPR, I broke his rib. She said something to me in the elevator. Nothing derogatory, just a statement, and I reacted like Mom used to react to you.”
There was silence for a moment.
“I thought you guys were just friends,” his father said.
“That was the other thing that happened this weekend. She told me she’s had feelings for a while about me, but she’s tired of waiting for me to catch up. It was time for her to move on if I didn’t reciprocate.”
“Do you have feelings for her?”
This was the hard part. Did he dare admit how he felt about her after they’d had sex for three days? Yes, he loved her, but should he tell his father?
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve loved her for a long time, but I always thought back to you and Mother and the way you fought over your medical practice. I don’t want that to happen to us and when she said I broke the man’s rib…”
“You automatically assumed you two were going to be like me and Francis,” he said.
“Yes, Dad,” he said, knowing he’d been wrong. His head was telling him he’d overreacted while his heart was calling him all kinds of being a fool.
“So how is she today?”
That was the worst part.
“When I woke up this morning, she was gone,” he said. “What do I do, Dad? I don’t want us to become like you and Mom. I don’t want to lose her. I love her and now I’m going to have to face life without her.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No,” he wailed. “I…”
“You want to be able to have your cake and eat it too. You want to have your friend, but not make any lasting commitments because what if you and her became like me and Francis?”
While he hated to admit it, that was exactly his fear. And coming from his father, it sounded so stupid. Hannah did not have a mental problem like his mother. She was not psychotic. She didn’t have episodes or depression or act anything like his mother.
“Yes,” he said knowing it was true. Why couldn’t they be friends with benefits or something like that?
His father sighed. “Son, you and Hannah are not me and Francis.”
Isn’t that what Hannah had said?
“In fact, I doubt any doctor you married would act like we did when you were a child. I’m sorry about that. But your mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia right after we married. It was one of the reasons she refused to get pregnant. Does Hannah have schizophrenia?”
“No, she’s logical and thorough and she’s the best damn doctor I know,” he said.
“Then what makes you think she would act like your mother? What makes you think she would scream and yell at you like your mother did to me?”
For a moment, he remembered what Hannah said about screaming at him. Sitting on the bed, he glanced around the hotel room. It seemed so empty, so silent, and yet it echoed with her words. He was so damn stupid. Not because of what Hannah had said, but rather because she was right.
She was not his mother. She was Hannah. A better doctor he’d never met.
“Son?”
“Oh, Dad, I’ve royally screwed this up,” he said, his heart breaking into a thousand shards inside his chest. He’d fucked up everything. And now because of him, Christmas would be totally ruined.
“Son, I’ve been waiting for you to realize that you and Hannah were perfect for one another. And now I understand why you’ve not put a ring on that girl’s finger,” he sighed. “She is not your mother. She’s a rational human being who does not have mental health issues. Your mother had all kinds of problems and spent a month in a psychiatric hospital when I came home and found her giving you tranquilizers. After that, we made a deal that she had no access to any drugs. I should have talked to you about this years ago. I’m sorry.”
Stunned, he stared out at the sunshine.
