Once the door closed behind his final patient of the morning, Hawkeye opened his desk drawer and took out the number he'd been trying to work up the courage to call for the past week. He stared at it, as was his ritual during his lunch hour these days. Usually he put it back in the drawer, sometimes he got as far as picking up the phone and hearing the operator speak. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone and gave the operator the number, gripping onto the handset like his life depended on it.
"Good morning, Doctor Freedman's office. How may I help?" a cheery female voiced sing-songed.
"Uh, I'd like to speak to Doctor Freedman please," Hawkeye asked, his throat dry. "If he's with a patient it's not important, I can call back tomorrow or next week or..."
"No problem, I'll put you through immediately sir," the receptionist replied. He remembered to mutter a quick thank you before being placed on hold.
"Hello, Doctor Freedman speaking," a voice said, bringing back memories of a mental hospital, of surgery, of loosing a patient, of poker games, of young soldiers scarred by what they'd seen, what they'd done.
"Hey Sidney," Hawkeye said.
"Hawkeye?"
"Yeah," he smiled.
"It's great to hear from you. How's life in Maine? Eaten all the lobsters yet?"
"Not quite, but I'm trying. Margaret and I got married."
"Congratulations, that's fantastic!"
"Yeah... She's pregnant. I'm scared Sidney," he confessed.
"I'd be worried if you weren't," Sidney replied. "I know I was."
"No, but I'm scared... Because... Because of what happened on that bus." There. He'd said it. "What happens if it starts crying and won't stop? What if I freak out, start telling Margaret to shut it up?"
"Hawk, I know Margaret, and there is no way she's killing her baby for anyone. Even you."
"I know. I'm being stupid."
"No you're not. You're being an expectant father. Mild hysteria is a very common symptom of impending fatherhood."
Hawkeye chuckled, beginning to relax slightly.
"I'm sure if you asked BJ, he'd tell you that he felt exactly the same when Erin was born."
"He spent the whole of Peg's labour with Benji on the phone to me," Hawkeye recalled.
"There you go. When my eldest daughter was born I drank so much coffee I jittered for three days straight," Sidney said. "When the second one was born, the nurses arranged got me to have me own coffee IV in the waiting room."
Hawkeye laughed.
"I'll take my IV with gin please," he joked, before bursting out laughing again. "Make sure you put an olive in the bag."
"And refill it every hour," Sidney added. "Feeling better?" he asked, once their fits of laughter had died down.
"Yeah, actually I am," Hawkeye replied. "Thanks Sidney."
"No problem. And if you want to talk, I'm only a phone call away. Give Margaret my love, tell her I'm asking for her."
"I will," he promised.
"And you still owe me a lobster."
Which promptly sent Hawkeye into another fit of giggles, and left his receptionist wondering yet again, why his wife put up with a man who giggled to himself in an empty office.