Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(16)
The couple entered the elevator. The husband placed his arm around his wife’s slim shoulders. Phillip noticed how she leaned into him, as though the love and strength of her mate was the only thing that could keep her upright.
Their baby’s chances were good; Phillip didn’t anticipate complications. The boy would do fine … God willing.
He spent the next hour doing paperwork and was surprised when he glanced up and saw that it was already after seven. He’d meant to leave earlier. Old habits die hard, harder than he realized. Finding balance in his life had demanded discipline and restraint. It was much too easy to fall back into the trap of staying late at the hospital and completely immersing himself in his work.
He saved lives, and these babies needed him. What he’d discovered, though, much to his chagrin, was that he wasn’t much good to anyone if his entire focus remained in the hospital. After he and Heather split, he’d realized the problem was his. At the time, he’d felt she wanted more of him than he was willing to give.
After the breakup another realization had hit him. Working such long hours, he’d completely lost sight of himself. Every day at the hospital he became enmeshed in the life-and-death drama of what was happening around him, taking no time to reflect on or absorb the impact of these events. He needed to get away, think, make time for himself and for a life outside the hospital.
Since then, he’d given a lot of thought to his tendency to be so completely single-minded and focused on his work. He realized there was more to this personality trait of his than just pure dedication. Self-analysis wasn’t comfortable or especially easy, but he knew that if he was ever going to find fulfillment in life outside of work, then he was going to need to change. It struck him that he was the kind of person who found rigorous self-discipline and accomplishment actually easier than relaxation. He hadn’t gotten to the point where he was comfortable lowering his guard, but he was working on that.
One of the first things he’d done was set a hard-and-fast rule that he had to leave Seattle General before seven o’clock. For a while, he’d cast about to find something other than work to occupy his time. That was when he’d stumbled upon the idea of sailing. He enjoyed the water, and being on either Puget Sound or Lake Washington looked exhilarating. So after much research and a series of sailing lessons, he’d bought his own sailboat and made a friend in the bargain. Phillip got along well with his sailing instructor, and the two often went out together for a couple of hours. They weren’t bosom buddies, but it felt good to hang out with Fred.
Phillip spent many a summer evening on Lake Washington, soaking in the sunshine and the warm breeze. Recently he’d been invited to join a poker game with a group of other physicians. He’d accepted and enjoyed the camaraderie. Cards had never been his forte and he’d lost far more than he’d won, but being able to laugh with the guys was all the compensation he needed. The funny part was that despite the fact that he always enjoyed himself, he often had to talk himself into going. At heart, he was still a loner.
He logged off his computer, ignoring the long list of emails requiring his attention. They could easily wait until morning. Most evenings he grabbed a quick meal in the hospital cafeteria. The food wasn’t half bad; it was tastier than anything he could make himself and it was a damn sight more nutritious than anything he could pick up at a fast-food place.
As he headed down the wide corridor he recognized several nurses. Since he’d started at the hospital a few of them had made it clear that they wouldn’t be opposed to seeing him outside of work. Rule number one in Phillip’s book was not to get involved with anyone in the medical profession. That was a lesson he’d learned early on in his career, and it’d stuck.
Every now and again he wondered about Heather. They’d met in medical school, fallen in love, moved in together, and decided to marry when they finished their residencies. That was the original plan. But they both worked crazy hours and they barely saw each other. With so little time together it felt like they slipped out of sync—they practically had to start at square one on the rare days they both had off at the same time. He knew they were drifting apart but he didn’t realize how far until one day he returned to the apartment only to find it empty. Heather had moved out. He tried to talk to her, to reason things out, but she hadn’t listened.
Fine. Whatever. He played it cool for a month or so, gave Heather space, and waited for her to come to her senses. Only she never did. The next thing he heard, Heather, the love of his life, had married another doctor and moved out of the state. Just like that.
It took him six months to get over the shock of it. He dated again, but the results were mostly the same. Marsha Lynch, a reporter who worked for The Seattle Times, and Phillip had dated for almost a year before she called it quits. It’d shocked Phillip because he thought their relationship was going along just fine. Sure, he worked long hours, but that was to be expected with his profession. They’d actually discussed marriage at one point. When Marsha walked out she claimed marriage was out of the question. With tears in her eyes, she told him he was remote and too hard to get close to. She said he worked ridiculous hours, but she could live with that if he wasn’t so closed off when they were actually together. The ugly scene had lingered in his mind for months afterward.
His problem, Phillip had reasoned, was that he didn’t understand women.
It took almost eight months for Phillip to realize that Marsha had pretty much hit the nail on the head. Phillip was married to the hospital, but there was more to it than that. He hadn’t viewed himself as remote or distant. He’d never been one to share his troubles or wear his heart on his sleeve, but that didn’t make him emotionally inaccessible, as both Heather and Marsha had accused. And yet his tendency to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself seemed to be a problem. His friends were few, but that was the way he liked it. Life shouldn’t be a popularity contest.