Saving Meghan(49)

She knew her marriage was on rocky ground, but Carl was still her husband, and Becky could not turn off her loyalty like a light switch. She’d done that with her mother for valid reasons, but also with lasting consequences. Despite her best efforts to hold on, her marriage had turned into something utterly unfamiliar. She was no longer a wife, but she wasn’t a widow or an ex-wife either. She was trapped in something akin to marital purgatory.

On occasion, they’d still have sex, but Carl had grown distant and disconnected. Sometimes she’d get him to look her in the eyes, but those looks never lasted for long. Their lovemaking went from being intimate to a check-box item that they had to make sure got done because it seemed the only thing that bound them as husband and wife.

When he became angry with her over Meghan, when innuendo turned into accusation, they had stopped having sex altogether—unless they had enough wine and whiskey to make it possible to forget who they were and what they were going through. In that way, they’d become intimate strangers. Maybe that was all they could manage. Maybe that’s why she had decided to keep two secrets from Carl that day, her breakfast meeting with Dr. Peter Levine being one of them.

At first, Dr. Levine would not even take her call, but Becky guessed right how to bait him. His LinkedIn profile showed membership in Alpha Omega Alpha, the national medical honor society, along with other academic achievements. Levine might not have had a lot of experience as a doctor, but a scan of his curriculum vitae revealed him to be competitive and determined to succeed. He was also professionally green as a newly sprouted sapling, having completed his residency only a year ago, which meant he was still out to prove himself, leaving his ego vulnerable to attack.

Becky’s instinct told her that Levine was under Nash’s thumb, so she put that assumption to the test first by getting him on the phone, and again after he’d rejected her breakfast invitation.

“I understand your reluctance to meet,” she had said on the phone to him. “I’m sure Dr. Nash wouldn’t approve.”

“Dr. Nash doesn’t manage my schedule,” Dr. Levine said in a sharper tone. Becky could not suppress her smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Dr. Nash gave me the impression that she was the one in charge, that you were … inexperienced. Her word, not mine.”

Even though Nash and Levine worked in different departments, Becky knew enough about a hospital’s inner workings to play up the turf war angle. She had been careful to keep her tone friendly while making sure Levine knew she thought less of him because of Nash. It was a delicate mind game, and Levine was too inexperienced in the ways of life and women to realize he was being played.

“I don’t work for her,” he had said. “She’s not my boss. I’m a doctor, same as she is.”

Becky knew then and there the battle was won, but she still had to seal the deal.

“How about this, Peter,” she said, using his first name. “Meet me for a cup of coffee, just the two of us. There’s something you should know about Dr. Nash. Something my lawyer told me that you’d want to hear. I promise I only want to talk. Unless, of course, you’re not allowed.”

That was it all took. They spent another five minutes setting up the meeting place and time with all the intrigue of an espionage novel. Levine’s objections were numerous: That’s too close to the hospital. I don’t want anyone to see us. It has to be discreet.

Now that they were finally together, Becky had high hopes of emerging victorious once again. For her, victory was an easy mark to define: Meghan had to come home. Manipulating and maneuvering the green doc gave her no joy, but Levine and Nash had given Becky no alternative.

Dr. Levine set his menu down on the red laminate table. “I’m just going to have coffee,” he announced.

“Me, too,” said Becky, setting her menu down as well.

She was careful to keep her eye contact brief. She did not want to do anything that would come across as blatantly flirtatious, but she did not want to seem unavailable either. It was a delicate balance, and while she tried to exude confidence, underneath she was as nervous as a new driver. Levine was the way out of her nightmare, but one misstep would close that exit for good.

She appraised him thoughtfully, hoping his eyes would do the talking. Should she play the Nash angle as she had planned? Or try the Mrs. Robinson approach: the older, more experienced woman, piquing his curiosity?

By the time the waitress came to take their coffee orders, Becky had settled on her strategy.

“How is Meghan?” she asked.

It had been almost forty-eight hours since she’d last seen her daughter. Almost two days without hearing Meghan’s voice, seeing her precious face.

“She’s fine. We’re taking good care of her. I promise.”

“Peter,” Becky said, aware of the effect using his first name would have now that they were in person. “Peter, please, look at me—just look.”

He did. He could not help himself.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

Levine’s boyish face took on a newfound hardness. “Is that why we’re here? I thought you had something to tell me about Dr. Nash.”

“I do, and I will share it. But I want you to see me, really see me, to get to know me. I want you to believe that I’m not the person you think I am.”