Physician, Heal Thyself
September 1957
Hawkeye methodically went about the business of giving Norma Jacoby her physical exam despite the fact that she was yakking his ear off the entire time.
"You're not looking especially well, Dr. Pierce. It's that bachelor lifestyle of yours, I'll bet." She clucked as he took her blood pressure. "When are you going to get married?"
"Well, not this week, anyway," he answered with a slight smirk on his face.
"It's just that you're not getting any younger. That awful war is behind you, you have a nice practice here and a stable life. Seems like marriage is the only thing missing." She waggled a finger at him as though she was about to reveal the secret of the universe and he'd best be paying attention. "You need to meet your soul mate."
"I already did," he answered automatically, because it was the truth. Why he was telling Mrs. Jacoby this, he had no idea.
She was tsk-tsking. "You shouldn't have let her go. There's only one of those per customer. That's how the Lord plans it." Hawkeye made some noncommittal noise and she went on, "Now take me, for instance. I was with Mr. Jacoby for 53 years. He was my soul mate, all right. But he died two years ago."
"I know that, Mrs. Jacoby. I was his doctor."
"Yes, dear, but don't worry. I don't hold you responsible."
Hawkeye literally bit his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn't. He remembered being summoned to the Jacoby home and declaring Lawrence dead. Old codger had died of a heart attack in his sleep at the age of 81. Never knew what hit him. We should all be so lucky.
Mrs. Jacoby was barreling along. She was on a definite roll. "So, with my soul mate gone, I don't see any need to ever date again. What would be the point? No sir, I had my one true love and that's all I get. No more men in my life."
"I'm sure the entire male population of Crabapple Cove will be distressed to hear that."
His sarcasm was lost on Mrs. Jacoby. "So be it. But back to you, young man. You need to look up that soul mate of yours. Maybe she's not married. Or maybe she got married but now she's divorced. There's a lot of that going around these days. You younger folks... you ought to be more certain of yourselves before you get married, but there's so much impetuousness nowadays." Another tsk-tsk sound, then back on track once again. "Take my advice. Look her up. Could change your life."
"Yes, Mrs. Jacoby," Hawkeye humored her. "Let me listen to your heart yet, and then we'll be all through here. You seem to be in excellent health."
"Well of course, sonny. Never drank, never smoked, never stuck my nose into anyone else's business. A clean life is a long life."
For some reason, Hawkeye couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Mrs. Jacoby. The woman was a pest and a buttinsky, so why he should put so much stock in what she'd said, he didn't know. Probably it was the phrase she'd used, "soul mate." He never used to believe in soul mates. The concept was far too romantic for a cynic like him. But then came Korea. He changed a lot in Korea; his belief system went through an overhaul. The term "soul mate" suddenly had merit when you actually met yours.
Maybe she's not married. Or maybe she got married but now she's divorced. The profound wisdom of one Mrs. Norma Jacoby. Hawkeye wanted to smack himself for falling into her trap. Getting him thinking these thoughts. Four years. He was over it. He thought he was over it.
He found himself at his desk, looking through his address book. No, I'm not going to call. It's been too long. We lost touch and I'm not even sure why, except that it's easier this way. Probably for both of us.
He hadn't even contacted anyone from the 4077th when his dad died earlier in the year. He didn't want anyone to make the trip to Maine for the funeral, and he received enough flowers without anyone else adding to the sympathy bouquets. He made it through that dark period on his own. As he was doing most things these days.
Hawkeye got up to fix himself a drink. Why did we lose contact? When was the last time we spoke? He wracked his brain and finally remembered a phone call at Christmas nearly two years ago. It'd been brief, mostly just "how are you"s and "have a nice holiday"s. There had been an exchange of letters after that, he was pretty sure, but again, there was no substance to the correspondence.
We didn't feel close anymore. People drift apart; it happens.
It shouldn't have happened to us.
He crossed to the phone and snatched it up before he had a chance to really think about it. Consulted the address book and dialed the number that was written there. Closed his eyes and waited, having no idea what he was going to say.
"Hello?"
"B.J., hi. It's Hawkeye."
"Hawk? Hey! Seriously?" There was the old Hunnicutt laugh he remembered so well. "Wow, this is a surprise. How the hell are ya?"
B.J.'s happy reaction seemed genuine, which was a huge relief. "I know it's been a while. I was just thinking about you... feeling bad that I haven't been in touch for... well, for years, I guess. I'm sorry."
A brief pause. "Yeah, well, it goes both ways. I'm to blame too. It's great to hear from you now, though. How's the practice going? How's your dad?"
"The practice is fine. Dad died about seven months ago. It was sudden."
"Jesus, Hawkeye, I'm sorry. Why didn't you call me?"
Because you have your own life and your own family and I'm not a part of it. Because I was afraid to ask you to come and be with me, figuring the answer would be no, figuring you didn't have time for me anymore.
"I don't know. I should have, I guess. I'm doing OK." He paused. This phone call had started out fine but he was feeling more and more nervous as it went along. "Listen, do you think I could come out there and see you?" What? Where the hell did that come from? That was not at all what he'd had in mind when he picked up the phone. Of course, he didn't have anything in mind when he picked up the phone. Talk about impetuous.
"Absolutely! Come on out! Damn, it would be great to see you again. I've missed you."
Hawkeye couldn't read the meaning behind the words. He hoped B.J. was being sincere. It sounded like he was. He rubbed his forehead, confused. All of a sudden it was like he needed to go to B.J. All these years of being apart and growing apart, and now, out of the blue (thanks a lot, Mrs. Jacoby), he was downright desperate to see his former best friend again.
Best friend. Shoulder to cry on. Prankster to prank with. All of that and much more, except the one thing Hawkeye never dared to ask for. Lover. Nothing had happened between them in Korea. Only harmless flirting (if flirting can ever be called harmless)… stolen glances… X-rated fantasies (oh boy, the fantasies. Sometimes the only cure for them was a warm nurse or a cold shower). Hawkeye smiled as the memories filled his head.
Did B.J. ever feel the weight of his stare? Did he ever cast aside thoughts of Peg—even if it was just for a few minutes—to entertain thoughts of Hawk? Doubtful. To Beej, it was probably nothing more than the deepest of friendships.
"You should definitely come," B.J. was insisting, apparently noting Hawkeye's hesitation.
"OK, yeah," he finally agreed. "I'll give you a call after I book the flight."
"And you'll stay here, not in some hotel. Don't even argue with me about that."
"OK, Beej. Thanks." He hung up the phone, bewildered. The whole conversation had lasted less than five minutes, and now he had travel plans to San Francisco with no idea what he was going to do when he got there. What are you planning to do, magically erase four years and pick up where you left off? And even if that were possible, what's the point?
According to Mrs. Jacoby, it could change my life.
He rolled his eyes, hardly believing his thought process. He found himself wishing he'd just tuned out everything that exasperating woman had said to him.
They embraced when they met at the airport, and the years seemed to melt away. They had been apart twice as long as they'd been together in Korea, but Hawkeye didn't feel any awkwardness. Conversation wasn't forced or weighed down with silences. Laughter came easily, as it always had with them. In the car on the way to B.J.'s house, they talked about Maine and Hawkeye's practice, then Beej said that he had run into Charles, of all people, at a medical conference in early '56. The two of them had spent some time catching up and shared a lot of laughs.
"A lot of laughs?" asked Hawkeye, skeptically. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Charles?"
"C.E. Winchester the Third. The one and only. He's lost more hair," B.J. confided, "and actually quite a bit of snobbery along with it. Believe it or not."
"No kidding."
By the time they arrived at B.J.'s, Hawkeye realized that neither of them had mentioned Peg. In truth, he wasn't looking forward to meeting her, expecting it would be uncomfortable, no matter how hard he tried to be polite and the perfect houseguest.
The house was a small rancher and Hawkeye liked how homey it felt. B.J. ushered him into the living room and offered him a beer. Hawk took a seat on the couch, where B.J. joined him after retrieving two bottles from the kitchen. They drank in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Hawkeye said, "Your wife's out with Erin?"
B.J. set his beer down on the coffee table. "Actually, Peg and I got divorced last year." He shrugged. "I thought about telling you over the phone, but it seemed like something that should wait until I saw you."
Hawkeye blinked, stunned. He had no idea what to say. Well, well. Score one for Mrs. Jacoby.
"She's with a college professor now, and I get to see Erin on weekends. It's working out all right, actually." He was watching Hawkeye closely. "There were dozens of times when I almost picked up the phone to call you. I kept wondering if... I kept wondering how you'd react if you knew I was divorced."
Hawkeye finally forced some words out, "B.J., I'm sorry. Yours seemed like a storybook marriage. I can't believe it."
"Honestly, Hawk, it's for the best." He took Hawkeye's beer and set it next to his own on the coffee table. He stared at Hawk's now-empty hands for what seemed like a long time, then finally reached out and took hold of the right one gently, as if it were fragile. "Aside from being sorry... what else are you thinking?" he asked softly.
Their eyes met. Hawkeye felt something inside him start to unravel. "That I'm glad I came. That we should have never lost touch."
B.J. nodded and moved just a little bit closer. "Yeah," he breathed. "Why did we? Lose touch."
They were staring at each other now, a long, steady, intense stare. "It doesn't matter anymore."
A silence settled in for a few moments, but neither man averted his eyes. "You gonna make me be the one to say it?" B.J. eventually asked, smiling. "Fine, I'll say it, what the hell. I was in love with you over there. I think I could easily fall in love with you again. Should we...do anything about that?"
Something stirred in Hawkeye's chest. Probably his heart, getting a jump start after being dormant for so long. A smile came to him, and he halved the distance between himself and B.J. on the couch. "Yeah, I think we can figure out where to go from here," he practically purred. He was a little rusty in the romance department, but B.J. was bringing out the flirt in him. He reached up and put a hand behind B.J.'s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He meant for it to be soft and gentle, but desire took over almost immediately, and it turned powerful and passionate. He'd waited a long time for this. Crazily, he heard Mrs. Jacoby's voice saying "soul mate," and a shiver traveled down his spine.
"That woman's going to get a bouquet of flowers when I get back home," he mumbled when he broke the kiss, and B.J. looked at him, confused.
"What?"
"Always listen to your patients, Beej," Hawkeye advised with a grin. "Sometimes they can be very wise." He leaned back into the couch, pulling B.J. with him, and captured his mouth in another kiss.