The Doctor and the War Widow (6 page)

Abisi spared her the brain searching. “Your profile said you’re a teacher. What do you teach?”

“English.” She waited while the waiter took their orders. “When you teach, you hope you touch them, but you’re never sure if you do.” She noticed that when she spoke, he watched her intently.

He nodded. “I understand. I sometimes wonder what happens to patients when they leave the hospital. Do they really improve? Change?”

“What is your field?” Harley spread the napkin over her lap. He was handsome, really handsome. Eden would have liked him, and Harley couldn’t deny how appealing he was.

He gazed at her blankly at first, as if not understanding. He then smiled as recognition apparently dawned on him. “Oh, I’m an emergency room doctor. I work at LSU Interim. I’m not always used to the American term.”

Harley was genuinely impressed. “That must be very stressful.”

“At times, yes.” He leaned forward, gesturing with his hands. “As a doctor, you want to save people. When I was in medical school, I really thought I could save everyone, but I had unrealistic expectations when I began my career. One person can only do so much.” Shrugging, he added, “Several people said I was too idealistic. Perhaps they were right.”

“Sometimes it’s the same with teaching. You want to save people, but it isn’t always easy.” Harley liked his smile, and he was listening with apparent interest to every word she spoke. Most of the men she’d met through this service talked whole monologues about themselves. He was listening to her. “After Katrina,” she said, “we took in a lot of kids from different schools. We were by the river and didn’t have as much damage. I was teaching eighty extra kids. What’s funny is that I’d never had such purpose or felt so needed. Lately, I’m not feeling as fulfilled. I need a new challenge.” Harley stopped suddenly. The blood rushed to her face. She’d never been this open with anyone since her mother’s death. She’d only ever really confided in Eden and John. Even Donna and Judy didn’t know the inner workings of her heart. She swallowed her embarrassment and continued. “The school served its purpose, not teaching but my current position. I started soon after John died, but I no longer belong there. I’m not sure I ever did.”

“Why not?” Abisi’s dark gaze searched hers. His eyes were penetrating and fiercely intelligent.

Harley shrugged. She didn’t want to sound as if she were judging adolescents, but something in the man was compelling her to be honest. “Well, I teach primarily middle-class kids from reasonably well-off families. It’s a Catholic school with students who aren’t very conscious of anything but their own pleasure. They worry about their prom dresses and corsages. That’s it. They don’t care about issues like the environment, poverty, or this never-ending war in the Middle East. The school says it teaches social justice, but the students really only give the concept lip service, well, most of them. The worst is that I’ve looked for another teaching position, but jobs are tight right now.”

“Have you applied to the public schools?” He rested his chin on his thumb and forefinger. His gaze didn’t leave her. She liked his dark eyes.

“They’re hiring a bunch of Teach for America kids. Those people are cheap. They schools don’t have to pay someone with almost fifteen years’ experience. I also have a Master’s degree. That’s some more money they would have to pay. I went back to school to earn the Masters while I taught. John’s insurance money—” Harley stopped suddenly and took a sip of wine. She couldn’t talk about John to him, not yet.

“You don’t have to discuss a painful topic. I, too, know about loss.” Abisi smiled at her and cut into a slice of pizza. He looked down for a long time. “I lost my wife almost fifteen years ago.”

Harley’s mouth went dry. “I understand.” She looked away but felt his gaze on her and turned to him. “John’s been gone a long time, but I had my mother. She was very sick for a year. I had a focus while she was here, but now—” Harley broke off. No stranger would see her cry. Why, then, was she telling him so much?

Abisi placed a hand over hers. “Losing a beloved is always hard. My wife died of cancer. We hadn’t had an easy marriage. She married me while I was in London, studying medicine. Maureen was a vivacious girl, very beautiful, but she liked a good time. We had a daughter, but she found me unexciting. She spent a lot of time in London. Her family was there, but I loved her. I think she loved me, too, in her way, but I’m dedicated to saving lives. She didn’t like when I worked late. She didn’t like when I had emergency calls. At the time, we were in New York. I was in practice with another group of doctors.” He took a sip of wine. “Maureen even chose to return to London to die.” He looked at his hands and then at Harley. “I followed her, of course, but she didn’t really want me. She said I neglected her. She also blamed me for . . .” He broke off, his voice choked. He stared ahead for a long time before continuing. “Maybe I did neglect her, and she was right to blame me.”

“How old is your daughter?” Harley’s heart beat in her ears. Why was there so much hurt in the world? At least, John had loved her. She couldn’t imagine how it felt when love turned sour.

The man visibly brightened. “Jessica is twenty-five. She works as an assistant to a designer in London. She hopes to break into that industry, but for right now, this will suffice. In six months, she is getting married.”

“That’s good.” Harley smiled and then gazed at him. “It is good, isn’t it? I know some dads don’t like the groom.” She liked gazing at him. The man was easy on the eyes.

Abisi laughed richly. “Oh, yes, he seems to be a nice young man. A barrister.”

“Impressive.” Harley grinned and bit into her pizza.

They ate in companionable silence for a long time. Over dessert and coffee, he gently questioned her about her marriage. “Simply tell me if this is too painful. How did your husband die?”

Harley swallowed. Her throat was suddenly very dry. “John . . .” She cleared her throat. “John was killed by a suicide bomber in Iraq. He’d been there for some time.” She paused. Her voice cracked. Damn! She didn’t want to succumb to this paralyzing sadness. “He was due to come home in two months.” Harley drew in a breath. She hadn’t discussed John with anyone except her closest friends and her mother. Her skin was suddenly gooseflesh. Most people at the school didn’t even know of his existence. “I buried the past.”

“I see.” He squeezed her hand. Harley usually resented a stranger’s touch. She didn’t pull her hand away now. The warmth of his hand soothed her and sent the sadness away. “Let’s discuss more pleasant matters. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’d like that a lot.” Harley let him caress her hand.

When the waiter brought the check, Abisi glanced at the bill and quickly produced his wallet. Before she could open her mouth, he said, “Allow me.”

Abisi insisted upon walking her to the car. She gazed up at him when they stood at the car door. “What brought you to New Orleans?”

“Like you, I felt unfulfilled. Treating spoiled rich people in New York wasn’t my cuppa, as the Brits say.” He smiled warmly at her.

“I’m sure there are plenty of poor people in New York, too.”

“Yes, of course.” Abisi reflectively touched his chin as if considering his answer. “I just associated New York with the breakup of my marriage and a lot of unhappiness. Besides, the story of Katrina made me think you all needed a doctor here. The post came open, and I took it.”

“I’m glad you did.” Harley was surprised at how glad she truly was.

Chapter 6

Late June

“He
is not
a serial killer.” Harley stared at her cousin Judy in the front pew at St. Anselm’s. Her voice was a hiss. Mass would start in less than fifteen minutes.

“How do you know?” Judy was more protective of Harley than Eden had been.

Harley sometimes thought Judy should be on VoodooMatch. She was still lovely with dark hair and an hourglass shape, but she spent most of her time worrying about her family and friends.

“I searched him on the Internet. He’s everything he says he is.” Harley cast a disparaging glance at her cousin. Judy knew no more about the Internet than a gnat. Harley spoke with emphasis. “He
is
a doctor. He
is
widowed. He has a grown daughter.” Harley turned to her cousin and stuck out her chin. “How is he a serial killer?”

“Just be careful, okay? Think twice before you invite him over.” Judy frowned and turned her attention to the altar. She seemed to be deep in prayer.

“He’s been to the house.” Harley suppressed a smile at her cousin’s shocked expression. “See! I’m still alive.”

“You should be ashamed. You’re about to give communion.” Judy tried to sound severe, but she was smiling.

Harley rolled her eyes. “He’s come in for coffee.” She paused and weighed her words. Oh, what the hell! She was a grown-up and could say what she wanted. “I’d like more, but he’s a complete gentleman.”

“So you like him?” Judy glanced at the crucifix on the altar and then turned to Harley.

Harley hesitated. What exactly did she feel? “Yeah, I like him.”

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s from Egypt?”

“What in hell is that supposed to mean?”

Judy colored a deep purple. “I didn’t mean anything. I just know a suicide bomber killed John.”

“Not all Muslims are kooks, Judy.” Harley was surprised at her own anger. Tears pricked her eyes like tiny pins. She stared ahead at the altar. Why was Judy disparaging someone who made her happy?

Judy stared at her for a long time. “No, of course not. I’m not a bigot.” She slipped an arm around Harley’s shoulders. “I just don’t want to see you get into something you regret.”

Harley sighed. She suddenly wanted to sleep. “We always regret things. I’ve already stacked up a few. Your husband’s gone, too. Don’t you wish—?” Harley bit her lip. Her stomach tightened into a knot. Judy had been working while her husband was sick. He’d died in hospice without her at his side. Judy still was haunted by his death and her absence during his last hours. She stared ahead while Harley spoke. Harley cursed her own insensitivity and leaned closer to her cousin. “You couldn’t do anything else, Judy.”

Judy retrieved a tissue from her purse. “I know that. I just wish I could have been with him at the end.”

“Look, I don’t know what this is yet, but I’m having fun. We like the same music, movies, and plays. I also don’t have to pay half. I’m not sure how I feel, but I can talk to him easily. Anyway, you and Donna don’t seem to think women can live without men. You’ve both been at me to meet someone for years.”

“Yeah, the normal way.” Judy shook her head.

“Internet dating is the normal way these days.” Harley shrugged resignedly. “Look, I teach with nearly all women. The men at my school are gay or married to women with better careers. That’s only changed a little bit over the years. How else would I meet new people? The people in my neighborhood or here at church are elderly, infirm, or hooked up like the animals in Noah’s Ark.”

Judy smiled slightly as she glanced around church. “I see what you mean.”

Harley slipped an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “Stop worrying about me. Besides, today I have bigger fish to fry. Communion, remember?”

Judy turned to her, frowning. “Are you okay to give out communion?”

“I think so. I’ll just do some deep breathing before I go to the altar.” Harley kept her tone light, but she was dreading the palpitations that always accompanied her Sunday obligations. “If I faint, call the crash cart.”

“Take it easy, okay?” Judy’s gaze rested on Harley for a long time.

“Don’t be such a mother hen. I’m fine.” Harley grinned mischievously. “Besides, I might let Abisi know I want a little more than a peck on the cheek. I’m starting to wonder if he can do the deed.”

Judy laughed softy and looked around. They were alone in the pew. “They usually can do the deed a few minutes before they’re embalmed.”

Harley handed communion to the congregation of St. Anselm’s. She fought the feeling of panic when she ascended the altar and breathed deeply. Her cold hands eventually regained their warmth, and her heart stopped pounding out of her breast. Harley now heard her mother’s voice ringing in her ears. “You didn’t do a thing wrong. You took care of me like an angel. Don’t feel guilty. You were loyal to your husband. It’s time you lived.” With those words, Harley’s panic vanished, and she found herself thinking of Abisi.

Their dates had been platonic so far, but they had discussed everything from politics to history to civil rights to music. Republicans, she argued, used race and morality to polarize and incite jingoistic passions. He disagreed. History differed depending upon who wrote it. They both agreed. Abisi said that Listz was the greatest classical composer. No, the greatest was Wagner. The Beatles were the world’s most creative rock band. Well, who in hell could disagree with that? Harley argued that John Lennon was the Fab Four’s driving force. Abisi countered that Paul McCartney’s influence was greater.

What she liked was that he listened to her when she spoke and didn’t try to change her mind. He accepted that she had a right to her own thoughts and opinions even as he debated her. What also sent pleasurable shivers through her sinews was how erotic she found their arguing. She even trusted him enough to tell him about her covert life as a writer, and was pleased when he responded enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe you’re a Republican.” Harley said the words without rancor. She’d seen Abisi through most of June. They were sitting on the couch in her living room Fourth of July weekend, sipping wine. Nico lay at Harley’s feet, snoring. He occasionally flicked at a fly that buzzed around him with his bushy tail. Harley had opened her windows so they could appreciate the breeze blowing even on a balmy New Orleans night.

“It’s political.” Abisi drew her closer and took a sip of wine.

“How so?” Harley followed his gaze as he took her in. She could sense his desire, and she’d dressed to encourage it. Spaghetti strap flowered blouse, diaphanous wraparound skirt, and white sandals. She’d seen her stylist the day before and had added the auburn tints that drew stares. His arms were strong as he clasped her shoulders.

“In the South, that’s the trend.”

“I don’t follow trends.” Harley grinned at him.

“There’s something appealing about that.” He touched her cheek lightly and kissed her. His gaze met hers and lingered. That smile was so sensual that liquid flowed through every sinew of Harley’s body.

Electricity pulsed through Harley, setting her insides on fire. Her spine tingled as his breath feathered against her hair. “You-You were saying?” Her voice was hoarse.

“I don’t give them a dime because of their policies on immigration. Isn’t this country, after all, a country of immigrants?” Abisi let his hand slide along her bare shoulders.

“I agree.” Harley let her face brush his own. His beard against her lips tickled. “Then why are you a fan of such a party?”

Harley saw that he was clearly trying to concentrate, but he was losing the battle. His stare rested on her cleavage when he answered in a choked voice. “I wouldn’t call myself a fan, my darling. I guess I just wanted to be accepted down here when I became a citizen.”

Abisi ran his lips along her arm and onto her shoulder. He’d apparently forgotten about Republicans. The sensation of his lips caressing her sent an electric shock wave through her whole being. Trembling with sensual energy, she buried her own lips in his neck and moaned with pleasure as he touched her neck with his hands and then his lips. Nico glanced at them and padded down the hallway. Harley smiled to herself.
Smart dog.
She disengaged herself from her lover’s hungry kisses long enough to slip her tightly clinging blouse over her head. Abisi moaned with obvious pleasure, covering her taut breasts with kisses before lifting her in his arms. Harley’s skin turned to gooseflesh as he devoured her with kisses. She giggled as she unbuttoned his shirt and watched it slide to the floor. Unwrapping the skirt from around her waist, he nibbled at her stomach as if she were a feast. In a few seconds, they were both completely naked.

Harley knew they wouldn’t even make it to her bedroom. Abisi lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lowered her to the floor as his hands gently caressed the rosebud of her womanhood. Harley sighed deeply as the stubble protruding from his chin tickled her soft flesh and sent spasms of pleasure through her midsection. Warm liquid flowed through Harley’s being as she moaned with uncontrollable pleasure when he caressed her, his hands moving along her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. She traced the contour of his jaw with her fingers, reveling in the waves of energy the warmth of his skin imparted. His beard tickled her soft flesh, and she gasped softly as her reawakened womanhood called to her lover. Harley’s hunger was a volcanic force that surprised her. Her experience outside of her marriage had been minimal, but she devoured the sensuality of her lover’s touch with hungry kisses. He kissed her chin, lips, and eyes. His hot breath bathed her forehead and filled her with raging desire. She ravenously met his kisses as the warm liquid in her midsection spread throughout her body, leaving her moist and ready.

Abisi was as hungry as she. He caressed her face with skilled hands while his lips feasted on her neck and shoulders before settling on her hard, taut breasts. When he sucked on her nipples, waves of heat raced through Harley’s blood. He made his way slowly across her body, nibbling on her thighs until they opened and thrusting his manhood inside of her. Harley closed her eyes and held onto his neck as he moved within her most private part. Her whole body grew taut as the man let his lips caress her neck with undisguised rapture. Waves of hot lava swept over Harley. She cried out softly and buried her face in her lover’s neck. Slowly, tantalizingly, she let her lips linger on his neck while he devoured her in kisses. She felt his muscles vibrate as she ran her tongue over his neck and then let her fingertips gently scan the muscles along his arms and back. He clasped her head in his hands, his fingers intertwined in her hair as he covered her breasts and neck with kisses. Harley felt him grow hard over her as his manhood exploded inside of her like molten lava.

Minutes later, they lay on the floor together, sated. He rose, retrieved a sheet from her bedroom, and wrapped her in it. Neither said anything as Abisi settled Harley in the crook of his arm. She nestled against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart while he took a swig of wine from the bottle. She took it from him and swallowed a long draught. The warm Merlot glided down her throat as its warmth flowed through her veins. The sweetly intoxicating grape lingered on her tongue as it numbed her body. Harley and Abisi finished the bottle of wine before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Harley rolled onto her side to watch him as he slept. An elaborate tattoo covered one shoulder blade. A heart. Harley paused. What had compelled him to put that heart on his back? She drew closer. The lettering above the heart grew clearer. J-E-S-S-I-C-A. His daughter. His one true love? Harley looked closer. Underneath the rose was etched J-O-R-D-A-N. Who was Jordan? His wife’s name was Maureen. Harley frowned at the spark of jealousy ignited inside her psyche. She laughed softly at her possessiveness. The letters could have spelt his late wife’s name. That would be much worse. Besides, she wouldn’t ask him about anything upsetting after she’d had such a good time.

Harley rose, walked into the bathroom, slipped on a T-shirt and panties. Time to put on the coffee. Nico appeared from the spare bedroom, wagging his tail. She stroked his ears and let him out the back door. Harley heard her lover stirring in the living room. She glanced at the backyard as Nico roamed, chasing a squirrel. Firecrackers littered the yard. The Fourth of July. In Abisi’s arms, Harley hadn’t heard a thing. In his arms, she’d felt safe. Harley stared through the window. The familiar white bird chirped happily in an oak tree.

“Dad, what do you know about this woman?”

Abisi could hear the worry in his daughter’s voice even though they were thousands of miles away.

“She’s no ax-murderer, if that’s what you mean.” He’d phoned Jessica from his office at the hospital in one of the few spare moments he had, and he certainly hadn’t planned a major discussion of the intricacies of his love life, but his daughter had sensed some change in him and persisted.

“You just have to be careful, for God’s sakes.” Her clipped British accent was too much like her mother’s, but he’d loved them both. Maureen had on occasion driven him close to murder, but her passion kept him coming back. Now, he’d found the same kind of ardor in Harley. In some ways, she was like Maureen. Very prim on the surface but smoldering layers of volcanic intensity under a peaceful façade. Why shouldn’t he be happy? God knows he’d been single long enough. That one disastrous romance after Maureen’s death, but . . . His daughter’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Maybe she wants a meal ticket, as the Yanks say.”

Abisi switched the cell to his other ear. His daughter was too skeptical for being so young. “She works, Jessie.”

“A teacher. She can’t make much money. Does she know that you inherited money from Gran and Granddad?” He heard her sigh in undisguised exasperation.

“No, and she hasn’t asked.” The conversation was beginning to gall. “Is it so impossible to imagine someone wants me? I know you think I’m old, but even men my age can want happiness.”