Chapter Twenty-Six

Leah sat on a bench in front of the hospital, waiting for her cab. She had managed to leave the program designs she brought with her on Mark's desk while he was away. She wasn't prepared to face him again after their parting conversation her first day home. And why not? What if he did have romantic feelings for her? He was attractive, had a wonderful personality, and they certainly had things in common. No, she couldn't even bring herself to imagine being with him. He would always be a kid brother. But how was she going to explain that to him without hurting him?

Her deep sigh was easily seen by the doctor sitting on a bench across the plaza who watched her as she waited for her cab. She didn't look forward or even around her. She avoided the possibility of meeting the eyes of anyone walking by her. He'd stayed away as Dr. Sandler had asked, at least long enough, he thought, to understand his own feelings for her. Now watching her, he was second guessing himself. Still, he got up and walked across the plaza, sitting next to her on the bench.

She looked the other way, aware that someone had sat down next to her, but without knowing or caring who. Then she sniffed the air, and slowly turned. "Dr. McIntyre. I'd recognize that smell anywhere," she said, smiling. He looked at her with raised eyebrows and a slight opened-mouthed smile. "It's a nice smell," she clarified.

"How's my favorite patient?" asked Trapper, chuckling.

"I'm not your patient."

"Then there's no reason we can't be friends, is there?" She smiled tentatively as she looked down. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she answered, looking across the parking lot. "I seem to be a little lost without my work to keep me busy."

"I thought Dr. Gates said you could do some desk work."

She looked back at him, squinting in the bright sunlight. "Desk work, yes. At home. All by myself. I'm afraid I'm finding that I'm not very good company. Besides that, I think too much lately. If I could just do…something…anything that would get me out of my apartment."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Taking a walk would be a good starter. And then I think I'd like to go explore those places I never bothered exploring…like Pescadero," she said, blushing and smiling at the same time.

"That would be a little too much this soon. Leah, you had surgery on a transplanted heart. You know the risks of rejection, but you're also more susceptible to infections. For instance, you've already had one that Dr. Gates was able to take care of fairly quickly. But that might not always be the case."

"Am I doomed to be cooped up for the rest of my life?" she asked, somewhat distressed.

"Not necessarily, but you need to give yourself time to heal. And three months might not be long enough this time. I have no idea how you managed that the first time."

"Well, I was in a wheelchair because of my hip, so I really couldn't get into much trouble. And I had to ride a bus for the handicapped, so I didn't have to do anything but sit in my chair. My left arm and shoulder were in a cast and a brace, but I could still write since I'm right-handed. I just needed something to occupy my mind, and Dr. Avery felt that work was saving me from debilitating depression."

"I see no reason you can't work, but you can't be the person you were before this surgery. The stress of that kind of environment alone could cause more problems. And you can't work sixteen hour days. You have to find time to relax…and get some exercise." He knew he'd upset her by the way she turned her upper body away, rather than just her head. "I didn't mean to preach, but you needed to hear that while you still have an open mind."

Taking a deep breath, she turned back and gave him a forced smiled that eventually relaxed into something genuine. "Have you had lunch, Dr. McIntyre? You see, I haven't had lunch, and I'm starved. Only, I don't have anything at the apartment to eat, and it will take awhile to get something delivered." Her look changed to almost pleading. "I'll buy."

Laughing, Trapper said, "I know just the place where you can get something that won't clog your pristine arteries. I'll drive."

"Wait. What about the cab?"

"There'll be someone else who needs a cab out here in a matter of minutes. Trust me." Standing and holding his arm out to her, Leah hesitantly wrapped her arm around his and let him lead her to his car where he opened her door and held her hand as she got in.

"So what's this healthy place you're taking me for lunch?"

"Chez McIntyre." Trapper heard the breath she sucked in. "Relax. It's just lunch."

Closing her eyes, she exhaled as quietly as she could and stared out her window for the remainder of the drive, looking forward only when she felt the car slow, turn and stop. As they waited for the garage door to open, she looked up and was taken by surprise. "You live in a Painted Lady?"

"Mm hm," he grunted. He drove in, and then showed Leah into the house. "You know, I was just as surprised at your apartment in the old cannery building right across from the wharf. There's usually a waiting list a mile long to get in there…and you got a rooftop apartment."

"It's a sublease. The woman I lease from got married and moved, but didn't want to give up a prime piece of real estate just in case it didn't work out. The only catch is that I have to leave at a moment's notice if she decides marriage isn't for her."

"Come on into the kitchen. I'll let you earn your keep."

Laughing, she said, "And just how do you know I can cook?"

"Well, I don't, but it doesn't matter. Everything we need is already cooked. How do you like stuffed tomatoes?"

"That depends. What are they stuffed with?"

"Chicken salad."

"You're in luck. I like tomatoes and chicken salad."

Trapper pulled chicken, vegetables, mayonnaise, fresh herbs and two boiled eggs out of the refrigerator, setting everything on the counter. Next, he produced two cutting boards from behind the toaster, and two knives out of a drawer. "Grab something and chop." He placed a bowl between them, and picked up a knife. "How are the sessions with David going?"

"Dr. Sandler?" Trapper nodded. "Well, better than Dr. Matthews. She smiled as she chopped celery. "Dr. Sandler is…how do I say this? His thinking is a little disjointed. I get the feeling he never learned to temper what he actually thinks before it comes out of his mouth, at least, not completely. But it's actually very charming…and sometimes funny." She stopped chopping and looked ahead of her in thought. "He's easy enough to talk to…until he hits a nerve. Is this enough celery?"

Peering over from the chicken he was chopping, he said, "Yep. Put it all in the bowl." She moved the celery away and picked up an onion. "What nerves does he hit?"

She looked at him and smiled. "You're a nosey doctor, aren't you?"

Sniffling, he answered, "You don't have to answer, you know. This isn't right. You're chopping the onion, and I'm the one who's crying."

"Open your mouth. You'll stop crying. Better yet, do you have a candle handy?"

Trapper stopped chopping, wiped his hands on a towel, and left only to return a minute later with a candle and matches. "Where do you want it?"

"Right there," she said, pointing behind the bowl.

Resuming his chopping, Trapper said, "You were saying?"

"Was I?" she asked teasingly before she continued. "He said the way I'm dealing with the loss of my children is fine as long as I remember the children I see belong to someone else. But he thinks I'm going to have a much bigger problem dealing with John."

Moving the chopped chicken into the bowl, Trapper separated several different sprigs of herbs from their bunches and began to chop again. "And why would that be?"

"He thinks if I become involved with someone else…" She stopped chopping and lowered her head. "He thinks the guilt will be too much for me. He thinks I'll compare someone else to John, and it will never be enough." She brought the knife down harder than she had intended. "At least, until I manage to get John out of my system. The only thing is I don't know how I'll ever get John out of my system without there actually being someone else. And I don't think I'll ever stop loving John just because there's someone else in my life." After dumping the onion into the bowl, she picked up the water chestnuts, and chopped quietly for a moment before she stopped again. "The truth is I'm lonely," she said faintly. "And I need to take care of some things that I never did."

"Like what?"

"I need to sell the house in LA. But I'm afraid to go back. An entire life with John and the kids is still in that house…their clothes, the kid's toys, John's skis and bicycles. What do I do with those things?"

"Seems to me you have the topic of your next session with David." Trapper dumped chopped eggs into the bowl and looked over at her board. "That's enough water chestnuts. Plates are in the upper cabinet to your right, stainless is in the drawer right in front of you, and glasses are back there," he said, nodding behind him, "next to the fridge." While Leah set the kitchen table, Trapper added mayonnaise, olive oil and vinegar to the bowl along with salt and pepper and mixed the salad. He loaded up two tomatoes, bringing them to the table. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine."

Taking a pitcher of ice water out of the refrigerator, he poured both glasses and sat at the table next to her.

"Mm. This is really good, Dr. McIntyre."

"Trapper." She glanced over at him with her mouth twisted. "Look, you're in my kitchen having stuffed tomatoes for lunch. Don't you think that warrants a friendship?" Looking up at the ceiling, she chuckled and nodded.