But when it came time for residency assignments, all hell broke loose.
I was offered a residency spot at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, Maryland—one of the most coveted spots in the country. Betsy was beside herself with pride and bragged to everyone who would listen that her husband was going to Johns Hopkins to become the best damned doctor the world had ever seen.
I wasn’t so sure moving across the country was the best decision for our family. Would Betsy and the kids adjust to a new place knowing we may only be there a few years? Would I be working too much to spend any time with them?
Not for the first time, I wished Major had been there to talk things through with me. He’d thankfully survived his fifth tour in Nam, but then he’d been sent to Germany for a year. Now he was posted somewhere he wasn’t allowed to say. Our letter writing had slowed to a trickle, but we both made a point of touching base by telephone on Christmas Day at the very least. He’d gotten along so well with Betsy and my family during the weekend visits before deploying to Vietnam, that they’d encouraged him to consider the ranch his home base for visits home.
At least three times so far, Major had come home to the Wilde ranch between assignments to help my father and give my mother someone to fuss over. Betsy and I took the kids to Hobie for the weekend whenever “Uncle Major” was at the ranch because the kids adored the gentle giant and loved having someone to “teach ranch things” to. Billy in particular had stars in his eyes for Major. It didn’t hurt that the man looked like he was born to ride a horse and wear a Stetson. He reminded me of the Marlboro man or at the very least Clint Eastwood with his stern face and in-charge demeanor.
But now that I had a big, important decision to make, he was unreachable.
“You know what he’d say,” Betsy said from the sofa where she was knitting something while The Brady Bunch played softly on the television in the background.
“Who?” I asked stupidly.
She rolled her eyes. “Weston. He’d tell you to go. He’d tell you not to be an idiot.”
“I don’t need his say-so.” Did I sound as stubborn and petulant as I felt?
“No, honey, but you’d like his input all the same. He’s like a mentor to you, and we both respect his opinion. I think he’d tell you to follow your dreams. And your dream is in Baltimore.”
“But the ranch… right now we can get there in a few hours easily. What happens when we’re a plane flight away?”
She put down the yarn and stood up before walking over and putting her arms around my neck. I slid my hands over her hips to her lower back and up along the soft cotton of her nightshirt.
“Liam, my parents are there. Your parents are there. All the hands are there, and every danged person we’ve ever known in our lives is there. If something happens, they’re covered and you know it.”
I leaned in for a quick kiss. I loved the way she looked after she’d washed all the makeup away at the end of the day. The little freckles that peppered her nose were starting to appear on Gina’s face too. “You’re pretty amazing, Elizabeth Wilde. Don’t know if I tell you that enough. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Yes, you could have. But I am amazing too.” She stepped back and twirled before taking a dramatic curtsey. “And I’m going to parade around town the wife of a doctor before long, and Patty Ritches can stuff it.”
I laughed along with her. Patty Brown had been Betsy’s nemesis before she’d married into the Ritches family. Now it was ten times worse.
“I guess that means we’re going to Baltimore,” I said. She squealed and jumped up and down, hugging me again.
“Just think! We can show the kids all the history in Washington and maybe even take the train to New York City.”
But we’d only been living in our little rental house in Baltimore for eighteen months when Marsha Hobart was diagnosed with uterine cancer. By the time she realized her symptoms weren’t just a terrible side effect of menopause, it had already spread to other organs. Thankfully, I had gotten to know a specialist at the university hospital in Dallas, who hooked Marsha up with an aggressive treatment plan.
Betsy and the kids raced home to Hobie to help take care of her. My mom watched the kids while Betsy ferried Marsha to Dallas for treatments and I stayed in Baltimore to finish my residency. I felt torn, but the medical team in charge of her care assured me she was in good hands, and Betsy promised to tell me if she needed me to come.