Chapter Four – Walls Come Tumbling Down
It was midday Tuesday and Maca sat alone at the cafeteria table drinking orange juice from a tall plastic cup and nibbling on a banana nut muffin. The morning had been a rush of activity and they had finally found a minute to stop for a short break. After Roberto had dropped her at the emergency door of Eggleston Children's Hospital, she met with the ER Director James Belter, and had a brief interview with the Hospital CEO, Dr. Barbara Stahl. They went back to the ER where she and James spent the rest of the morning walking around the department, getting to know several of the doctors and nurses, and discussing the plans for her lectures, speaking engagements, and a dinner where she and several other doctors would be recognized for their achievements in emergency pediatrics. She was feeling overwhelmed with the adulation and wondered if it was too late to cancel the lectures and return to Madrid.
James joined her at the table and noticed how little she was eating. "That must be why Spanish women always look like models," he offered. Maca smiled but wasn't sure how to respond.
"No, they just grow them that way naturally," said a silky voice with a Creole accent behind her that sounded oddly familiar. "Give her a week with you and she'll be eating hotdogs from the corner vendor."
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. Vinnie's got the best kraut south of Chicago," he argued jovially. "Maca, I'd like to introduce you to your tour guide for the month, Dr. Martine Monroe, cardiologist."
Maca rose from her seat, turning slowly to face the woman behind her, and lost her bearings and her breath. She had to reach back for the table to steady herself as the doctors reached out to help her. "Whoa, easy there, we can't have the doctors passing out after they've eaten the food. It doesn't set a good example for the kiddies," the tall woman joked with a wide grin.
Maca's knees were about to buckle and she began to shake. She put her hands on the back of the chair and on the table to get her balance, gave up and dropped into the plastic chair with a thud.
The tall woman knelt down beside her. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock you," she whispered. "Seriously, are you going to be okay? Here, drink this." She handed Maca her orange juice and the pediatrician drank it in one long gulp, peering over the top of the cup at the unexpected woman beside her.
"You always have this effect on women," the ER director teased. "It's your eyes; it gets 'em every time."
It was her eyes and they all knew it. Maca looked up and was captured by them, destroyed by them, and then when the face smiled at her and those eyes twinkled, she was reborn by them.
Dr. Martine Monroe stood slightly taller than Maca, had thick raven hair that she wore in long waves around her shoulders, was thin, though not as thin as Maca. Growing up in Louisiana, she learned to love the outdoors from a very early age and loved basking in the sun. She usually wore a beautiful copper tan from head to toe. She felt it necessary to exercise regularly and preferred swimming and roller-skating to many other sports. But the most striking feature that seized everyone who met Martine was her eyes. They were the color of emeralds. Most people expected dark eyes, or blue eyes, but the green surprised everyone because they were so bright. And when the light hit them just right, they would sparkle with flecks of gold, as they were doing now.
"Hush, Jimmy. She'll think I'm some kind of Casanova," the cardiologist winked one of those green eyes at him.
"That would mean that you would have to actually like them. But we all know that no one is good enough for Dr. Monroe." He turned his attention to the pale doctor sitting at the table. "I'm going to get you some soup; it's vegetable beef today. Do you eat meat, Dr. Fernandez?" Maca nodded automatically at the question addressed to her. "Good, I'll be right back. Marty, see if you can snap her out of it; she's scaring the parents."
Maca, ever conscious of how people perceived her even if she wasn't usually influenced by them, scanned the room. Most people were eating quietly with their families, some seemed to have received good news and were talking excitedly, and one stunned couple with a little boy about Pedrito's age was just huddled together holding him.
"Maca, are you alright? I'm sorry if I upset you."
"Que…? Como…? Wh-where…?" Maca couldn't put any of her thoughts into coherent questions. She was hardly able to breath and her hands still shook. Everything and everyone in the room dropped out of focus except the worried face in front of her. And when the raven-haired doctor picked up Maca's trembling hands from her lap and wrapped them in her own long, cool fingers, a jolt went from Maca's hands throughout her body.
"Shh. We'll talk, I promise. Just please calm down." Martine was genuinely worried about the thin, pale doctor. "Look, Maca, I'm sorry I upset you. Do you want me to leave?"
In the nanosecond that Maca took to ponder that option, she only got more ill and fretful. If she had heard the name yesterday, she would have let out a string of Spanish profanities, cursed the ground below Martine's feet and shouted that she never wanted to see that woman. But at this moment, that woman was kneeling before her with the familiar look in those florescent eyes, and Maca couldn't let her get away – again. Maca's hands quickly moved so that they were sandwiching Martine's hands and crushing her long fingers. And even though she still had trouble speaking, she was able to shake her head a definitive "No."
"Okay, okay, I won't go. Are you ill?"
Another shake of the chestnut covered head, "No."
The ER Director returned with a steaming tray of food. "Marty, here, sit in a chair, for god's sake. You've got to be killing your knees." He pulled a chair toward her. Martine rose from the floor and sat in the chair but kept it so close to Maca that their knees formed one lap for their interlaced hands. "Marty, see if you can get her to eat. I've got a meeting with the nurses. Are you going to be okay, Dr. Fernandez?" he put a worried hand on her shoulder.
Maca looked into the older doctor's kind, grey eyes. "Si, gracias. Lo siento. I am sorry to cause you so much trouble."
"It's no trouble, my dear. Just take care of yourself, okay?" His head tilted questioningly.
Maca nodded and smiled at him. "I will. Gracias."
"Good." He turned his attention to his younger colleague and saw the effect that the Spanish doctor was having on his young friend. "You got this, Marty?"
Martine nodded, unable to take her eyes off her trembling patient. "We'll be fine. Thanks Jimmy." She finally turned to look at him and he immediately realized that something had changed.
Martine was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and was often approached by both men and women for romance. But Martine always remained detached and her relationships seldom lasted for more than a few months. Within medical circles, she was also well-known for her ability to make bold decisions and daring surgical procedures with a cool head, which made her an exceptional cardiologist. The older doctor had stepped in when Martine's father died and had guided her schooling and her career for the last twenty years. He thought he knew all of her moods and all of her looks, but this was a new look, one he would never forget because it was the first time he had ever seen it. His protégé was in love.
"Okay. I'll leave you two now. Dr. Fernandez, I'll see you tomorrow to introduce you to your students. Have a good afternoon and take care of yourself."
"Gracias, Dr. Belter." "Thanks, Jimmy," they replied in unison. He walked away worried for both of them.
Green eyes were locked on brown eyes. Maca trembled with emotion on the verge of overflowing. Activity continued all around them. The tray of food soon cooled. Maca's hands kept moving; feeling fingers, feeling palms, holding onto wrists and sliding up arms, then back to the hands. It seemed like Maca wanted to make sure that the figure before her was real before she released the flood of emotion and questions.
Martine knew that flood was coming for both of them. "Let's get out of here and go somewhere we can talk." Maca nodded. A kitchen worker came to take the tray as they stood up to leave. Martine smiled and thanked the young woman; Maca simply watched Martine. The two women walked from the cafeteria to the ER locker room silently. They retrieved their jackets, hung their white coats, and pulled out matching black leather backpacks. They looked at the bags and then at each other and smiled.
"You always liked leather," Maca said with a smile.
"Ah, she speaks," Martine teased and Maca smirked. "So did you."
Maca nodded and then scolded herself. If I just keep nodding, I'm going to get whiplash. I've got to pull myself together. "So, where are we going?"
"There's a park we can go to. It's very nice this time of year. I thought we'd go there."
"That sounds nice. I will call Roberto…" but Martine raised her hand to cut her off.
"Come with me," Martine requested putting her hand out. Maca nodded and took the offered hand. The two doctors walked like school girls, hand-in-hand, through the emergency room, out the door and to the doctors' parking lot. Maca laughed when they stopped in front of a black Yamaha Roadliner.
"Some things never change," Maca laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "That bike is perfecto."
"You're not afraid are you?" Martine challenged.
Maca took her wallet out of her backpack and flipped it open. She thumbed to a well-worn plastic sleeve with a photograph of herself and Pedrito on a black motorcycle and showed it to Martine. "Mmm. That's a nice ride. What is it?"
"It's a BMW R850. It is a few years old, but I love it."
"And who is that little fellow?" Martine smiled at the laughing boy who had Maca's eyes. "He's adorable."
"That is Pedro, my son; he was three in that picture. He found it in the garage one day and he wouldn't stop crying until I took him for a ride. I finally convinced Esther to let me take him around the block. He was smiling and clapping the whole time. He was fearless," Maca beamed proudly.
"He takes after his mother. You were never afraid of anything."
"I think only one thing…" but Maca couldn't finish the sentence without choking up. She looked down at her trembling hands. Martine put her hand on Maca's cheek and lifted her face, seeing tears welling in the brown eyes.
"What?" she paused, waiting for Maca to continue, but the pediatrician closed her eyes as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. "What are you afraid of, Cherie?" the green eyes pleaded for an answer using an endearment only ever used for Maca.
Maca wanted to run, to escape the flood of feelings that she was barely able to contain. The nickname brought back so many memories, so many feelings of joy and awakening desire, and feelings of despair and loss.
She took a step back and started to turn away but Martine put a hand on her arm, not forcefully but strongly enough to let Maca know that she wouldn't let her run away. The tears continued to fall and Maca covered her face as the stronger woman pulled her into an embrace.
Arms wrapped around Maca, rocking her from side to side, Martine tried to calm the shaking woman. After letting Maca struggle with her emotions for a moment, she finally asked the question again. "Tell me, Cherie, what is the one thing you are afraid of?" she whispered in Maca's ear.
"Never seeing you again." And the walls crashed and the tears rolled and Maca clung fiercely to the woman who had awakened her feelings of love and passion twenty years ago.