And feeling that new, stiff denim stretch at the front of my jeans, I’m relieved when Mandy says it can wait. But she asks aloud if she can call Mrs. Peters when we get home.
“Of course, you can,” I chuckle. “You don’t need to ask me if you can… Oh –,” I trail off.
Understanding that she means to call and let Rose Peters know she won’t be coming back in. Not today or any other day.
“In that case, can I give Dr. Mark Chandler a call? Technically, he is the real head of my department,” I explain.
And only because he’s the only one of us doctors that even wanted to be on the hospital board.
Mandy looks wounded slightly until she asks why I’d need her permission to call him. I take a moment to be clear in my mind that this is actually what I want. What’s best for both of us.
“Maybe for the same reasons you’re calling Rose Peters,” I tell her.
I hear her take a long, shivering breath in.
“Foxx, you don’t have to give up being a doctor just to be with me,” she says, and I know she’s right.
“I’m on vacation right now, Mandy. But since yesterday, all I can think about is us. Just us. I’ve got enough for several lifetimes. We don’t need the hospital salary and all that work getting in the way of what we want,” I explain.
But she doesn’t seem totally convinced, at least not about me quitting medicine, which is okay. But she hasn’t done what I have for as long as I have.
Same as I don’t know everything she’s leaving behind too. It just feels like going back to work would be like going back in time.
To the other me.
Before I even knew Mandy could and would be mine.
Mandy’s not just a breath of fresh air in my life. She is my life now, my wife to be, and soon enough, the mother of our children.
“I promised myself and you,” I remind her, “That I wouldn’t waste one more second of this. Us, Mandy. And I mean it,” I tell her, sounding a little more than just stubborn.
She lifts her hands in surrender, creasing the sides of her mouth.
“Alright, Foxx. Okay. But I think you’re an amazing doctor. Lots of people could benefit from your help. Just don’t give up your whole career on account of me. That’s all I’m saying.”
I study her for a moment, never prouder or more in tune with someone else.
Never more in love.
We’re nearing our building when I see a familiar car pull up right out front.
And our doorman seems to come alive as he sees the carriage coming.
“I guess we can have a final trip around the block while we wait,” Mandy suggests, noticing neither the car nor its driver is budging.
Mark Chandler himself.
Come all this way because I wouldn’t answer his calls.
“I think we can stop behind him. Save me a phone call if nothing else,” I say in a low tone. My annoyance at being disturbed twice in one day is beginning to show.
Our time. Mandy’s and mine, nobody else’s. What the fuck is wrong with people?
“Foxx?” Mandy asks, looking up at me with worry in her eyes.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I tell her, fishing in my new jeans pocket for my phone.
“There,” I quip after sending a quick email.
“He has my resignation. Can’t fire me now,” I say out loud, figuring that’s what he’s come down here to do.
I’m glad I’m an early riser too.
Glad I got up and made all the arrangements I could think of to secure my new life with Mandy.
I just wanted to get that ring on her finger. Hearing her say yes was the most important thing to me.
By the time our carriage pulls up, Mark Chandler can see the day he’s intruding on. Any moron, yes, even him, can see that he’s parked himself right in the middle of something special.
My something special, and he moves pretty quickly to shift his car. He parks a distance ahead but still makes a point of coming back to speak with me.
I let my eyes tell him everything as I step down from the carriage, not forgetting to hoist my bride-to-be into my arms. Ready to carry her upstairs if I have to. Our own need for each other is just a little more important right now.
“Uhhh. I’m sorry, Foxx. I didn’t know you were…Uh….”
“Busy?” Mandy says sharply, finishing his sentence and making me smile.
Bringing a little light relief right when I need it because I don’t appreciate being stopped by anyone on my way home after proposing to my future wife.
He’s carrying a cardboard tray with what looks to be a couple of king-sized cups of coffee.
“Foxx, I just came down to talk. Been trying to reach you… Been running off our feet the second you left,” he says, pleading like a man who doesn’t know how to.