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Chapter 10.
When Jack finally made it down to the cafeteria at a quarter past eight, he was half convinced that Kate wouldn't be there, that she must have come to her senses by then, but to his relief he spotted her over at her usual booth, studying her watch.
She was freshly showered and dressed in the grey tank top that brought out the green in her eyes, her wet hair falling in waves over her shoulders; as he moved close enough to get her attention, he caught a whiff of her shampoo – something sweet and tangy, like passionfruit – and he found himself wondering if it was wrong of him to hope that she'd gone to all of that trouble for him.
"Hey," she said, glancing up at him in surprise when she sensed his presence beside her.
"Hey," he echoed, breaking into a grin when she did.
A flicker of tension passed between them, but while it was pleasant enough, he felt like they should be doing something more than staring at each other.
"So're you ready to…?" he asked to fill the silence, trailing off with an awkward gesture in the direction of the bistro.
"Sure," she agreed, getting up.
"How's your mom?" he asked her as they perused the menu board, embarrassed that he hadn't had the foresight to suggest something less casual. With what the hospital must be charging her, she had to know that he could afford it. She'd been living off cafeteria food for days and none of it was what he would call decent.
"She's okay. Better now that my dad's here," she told him, picking up a plastic container and inspecting its contents, her tone neutral, and he sensed that she didn't really believe this either.
"Really?" he probed gently, even though he knew that he was probably overstepping his bounds. He needed to be sure that she understood her mother's wishes, just in case he was forced to respect them. He couldn't make Diane have the operation and neither could Kate, no matter how much she wanted to. "Because I got the impression that she wasn't too happy about going in for more surgery."
He waited for her to lose her temper again, to tell him that this was none of his business, grateful when she didn't. Instead, she looked guilty.
"No one's happy about getting surgery," she insisted as she replaced the container and moved on to the next, "but sometimes there's no other choice. You know that."
He could see that the conversation was agitating her so he decided to drop it for time being. He didn't even know if her mother's heart could sustain another surgery. He wouldn't until he ran some more tests.
"Don't tell me I put you off junk food with all that stuff I said the other day," he pretended to joke when she settled on a salad. He hadn't meant to embarrass her. If anything he was impressed that she wasn't overly concerned with her weight. There was nothing worse than watching a woman starve herself. He would never expect that of her. "Because you should know, I was just making conversation."
She shot him a titillated glance out of the corner of her eye. "I'm a vegetarian," she explained, and again he couldn't hide his surprise. That was another thing that he wouldn't have guessed about her, one in a long list that just kept getting longer.
"I guess I should probably put this back then, huh?" he teased her, waving the beef lasagne that he'd reached for on instinct.
"You can relax, Jack – I'm not gonna preach at you," she assured him with a laugh and he decided that it was fast becoming one of his favourite sounds. It seemed like the only times that he ever got to see her was when she was angry or depressed. It was nice to have her in a good mood for a change. "None of my family is. It's just something I kind of fell into on my own."
She smirked at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Besides, if you saw how some of that stuff is prepared…"
She shifted her weight when they handed their purchases over at the counter, reaching for her purse with an uncertain look.
"I got it," he insisted, sliding a wad of bills from his wallet, hesitating when it struck him how sexist and presumptuous this might come off. It wasn't a date. He didn't want her to feel like it was. "Unless you're uncomfortable…" he rushed on in case she was afraid of offending him when he was the one who'd offered to buy her dinner in the first place.
"No, it's okay," she told him softly, her smile appreciative. "Thanks."
Satisfied that she didn't mind him playing the gentleman, he carried their tray back over to the table, returning her food to her with a thoughtful look.
"So you're a kindergarten teacher who works in a diner…?" he asked her, taking the lid off of his.
"This is the part where you tell me I'm wasting my life, right?" she said, sneaking a glance at him as she got organised, opening the container, ripping the top off the little sachet of dressing, arranging her cutlery…
He watched her go through the process, fascinated. He would never have picked her as being that methodical.
"Well you'll have to get in line – my dad says the same thing."
"No, I'm just curious," he explained. "Why didn't you try to get a job after college?"
She looked surprised at this question, as though it wasn't something that she'd given much thought.
"Honestly?" she said after a long moment, and he could see her choosing her next words carefully, trying to justify this decision not just to him, but to herself. "I guess I figured Tom and I would get married as soon as he finished med school, so it didn't seem like there was much point.
"He used to say we'd have nine kids," she finished, her expression wishful, though whether for her former fiancé or that life he couldn't tell.
"Nine?" he repeated, cocking his brow, trying to imagine what that would be like. As much as he wanted to be a father himself, it sounded like a few too many. "I think I'd settle for one."
He watched her take this new information in without comment and he could see that she wanted to ask why he'd never gotten around to starting a family with his wife, but she seemed to know better than to push the point.
"Yeah," she agreed with a grimace, poking at a shred of lettuce.
"Then my mom got sick and I had to put everything on hold to take care of her. And now, well—" She let out a harsh laugh "—I was right about Tom getting married – just not to me."
Her movements increased in fury as she speared a cherry tomato with her fork. "It's a shame, because I would've made a good wife. I think I know almost as much about medicine as he does just from grilling him the night before finals."
He could feel his own sense of outrage returning as he thought again of everything that her childhood sweetheart had given up in her. He couldn't imagine Sarah ever being that supportive of his career, even in the early days of their relationship. Unlike Tom, he would have appreciated it.
"Do you think you'll ever go back to it? Teaching?" he asked her.
"I don't know," she confessed, shaking her head. "It's hard for me to think ahead at the moment. I'm just trying to take it all one day at a time."
"I meant what I said yesterday, Kate," he assured her, when she returned her gaze to her food. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure your mom gets better."
He smiled when this got her to look up at him, her eyes alight with a mixture of hope and gratitude. "Then maybe I could take you out for a real dinner to celebrate."
"You can count on it," she agreed.
"So I guess you'll be going home now?" she asked once they'd finished eating.
He couldn't help letting out a self-deprecating laugh at this. Home was an empty apartment. He tried to spend as little time there as possible.
"I wish. I've still got a stack of labs to get through," he told her. He wasn't in any hurry to cut the evening short; he reached a hand up to run his fingers through his hair, more embarrassed than he should be as he added, "I'm heading upstairs if you'd like me to walk you back to your mom's room."
"Only if it's not too far out of your way," she argued, but she looked pleased.
Without thinking, he allowed his palm to drift to the small of her back to lead her, emboldened when she made no attempt to remove it. "No, come on, I insist."
He kept it there until they reached the lift, dropping it as he followed her into it.
"I'm glad we did this," she confessed with a shy smile when they stopped in the hall outside. "I had a good time tonight."
"Me too," he admitted, his eyes straying to her lips, wondering if he should try to kiss her. He might have if he could be sure that it was what she wanted.
He wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, but he thought that she seemed disappointed when moments passed and nothing happened, offering her hand to him instead.
"So, truce?"
He took it in his, holding it for longer than he needed to. "Truce," he repeated as he let go.
"Night," she told him, flashing him a flirtatious grin, opening the door and slipping inside.
Despite his resolve to avoid another attachment, he couldn't deny that he was falling for her. He had to find a way to keep his promise to her; he was in his office, going over her mother's scans, when a sharp rap disturbed him.
Thinking that she must have come looking for him, he closed the file. "Come in," he called, pinching the bridge of his nose, his heart sinking when he glanced up and saw that it wasn't Kate who entered.
"I'm glad I caught you," his father said, closing the door behind him, his expression grave. "Son, we need to talk."
Something about the way he said it set Jack on edge. His relationship with his father was complicated at best; he couldn't remember the last time that he'd sought him out like this. "What's going on, Dad? Is Mom okay?" he asked, pushing himself to his feet.
"Your mother's fine, Jack," his father assured him. "It's you I'm worried about."
When Jack let out a heavy sigh, waiting for his father to clue him in on what he'd done wrong this time, he explained, "One of the nurses informed me that she saw you having dinner with Diane Austen's daughter earlier tonight."
"So what if I did?" he insisted, defensive at the idea that his father thought the only way to keep tabs on him was to send his employees to spy on his behalf. Why was it that he never asked? "I don't understand what this has to do with—"
"Don't you see how it could be considered inappropriate, given your… history?" he continued in the same reasonable tone.
"My history?" Jack repeated, incensed that he would rather make insinuations than get whatever was bothering him out in the open. No wonder he valued the truth so much. It was a rare commodity in his family.
"Sarah? Dad, is that what this is about? Or do you honestly think I'd ask for some kind of favour from her in exchange for saving her mom's life?"
His father recoiled in shock at these words and he could see that he'd hurt him. "Of course not, Jack!" he insisted. "I'm just suggesting that you try to maintain a professional distance this time. Need I remind you of what happened with Mr. Busoni?"
He softened when Jack sank back into his chair, running his hands over his face. He really didn't. All of a sudden he was relieved that he hadn't kissed Kate. He didn't want to make another mistake like that.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt again, Jack."
"I've learnt my lesson, Dad, believe me," he assured him, even though he wasn't sure that he had, more confused about his relationship with Kate than ever.
She was his patient's daughter; he shouldn't be having these feelings for her, but he couldn't seem to stop them. At least when she was with Tom he had a reason to ignore them.
"I know where the line is and I'm not about to cross it again. Kate's just going through a rough patch and I was helping her out. That's as far as it goes. That's as far as it can go."
Next chapter: Kate and Sam talk about Jack, and Kate calls Jack on his strange behaviour... ;)