After the Rain (13 page)

CHAPTER 10

From Where I Stand

Nathanial

“Y
ou enjoying your steak and eggs?”

“Mmm, Bea’s still got it,” my father said from the round breakfast table in the kitchen the next morning. Bea and Redman had already gone out to work, leaving my father alone in his joyful gluttony. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down with him.

“You’re a heart doctor, you must know how much cholesterol is in that meal.”

“Moderation is the key, Nate. You don’t have to cut out everything.”

When he began gnawing on the steak bone, I looked away. “We’re leaving today?”

“Actually, I told Dale we’d go out with him to do his rounds and spend one more night here and head out tomorrow.” He sat back in his chair and rubbed his belly. “I’m enjoying this.”

“I bet. You don’t have Mom measuring your portions.”

“Speaking of beautiful women, what exactly did I walk in on last night?”

It was the beginning of the father/son conversation I had always craved, but I found myself at a loss for how to explain the situation. “I was just hugging her.”

“On your lap?”

“I like her.”

“Ahh. So that’s what happened. I wondered why you weren’t hassling me to come back to the hospital.”

“Do you know anything about her?” I asked him.

“Your uncle filled me in.”

“She’s very . . . I don’t know . . . guarded. But when she’s not around other people she’s funny and smart and sweet.”

“Well, that’s all that matters, I suppose,” he said earnestly.

“I don’t think she can let herself really get to know anyone, though.”

“In my experience, moving on is part of healing. Think of it like physical therapy during rehabilitation for an injury. You start to use the muscles again while they’re healing, but you have to take it slow and build the strength back before you can make a full recovery. The heart’s a muscle. Did you forget that already?”

I laughed. “Are we talking about matters of the heart in doctor-speak?”

“Why not? This is our shared language. We could use a golfing metaphor if that works better for you.”

I laughed. “That would play more to my strengths.”

He chuckled then leaned in, grasping my arm. “All joking aside, you’re my son and I’m your dad. Every other way in which we’re related is secondary. So think about that when I tell you that you have the potential to be a better
surgeon than me. But nothing would make me prouder than if you became a better husband and father.”

I jerked my head back and fought the lump growing in my throat. “You’re a great dad.”

“I put a lot of pressure on you and I regret it.”

“What has gotten into you, Dad?”

He looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully and then smiled. “Perspective. I think you may be getting a taste of it, too. Son, I want to have barbecues and go on trips and watch my grandchildren grow up.”

“You’re skipping ahead pretty fast here.”

“All I’m trying to say is that in the week after you lost the patient, I started to really question my own life. I thought about the good times, and as much as I like being a surgeon, the best memories from my life did not take place in the hospital.”

“I understand what you mean. I’m working on it, Dad.”

“Nate, remember when we used to watch football and yell at the TV? Or when your mom would go on those girl trips and we would spend the whole weekend eating junk food and watching movies?”

“I remember.”

“Aren’t those the best memories?”

“Yeah, Dad, they are.”

“Do you think of your first bypass that way? The first time you held a human heart? Did you feel joy or determination?”

“I think I get what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure I felt joy when the surgery was a success.”

“See, I think you’re confusing your feelings. What you probably felt was relief; the joy was for the person you saved, not for yourself. Sure, it’s gratifying to know you saved a life,
but it’s not nearly as gratifying as knowing you created one. Joy is family, life, all of it—the big stuff and the small stuff. Just holding the woman you love in your arms can make a hard day at work fade away.”

“Whoa, Dad. I’ve never heard you talk like this.”

“I just want you to think about it. That’s all.”

I stood up and hugged him. “Thank you. I’m going to see if Ava will join us for dinner.”

“That’s a great idea. A little physical therapy for the heart—yours and Ava’s.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Dr. Romance.”

“My pleasure.”

Once outside, I noticed right away that Dancer was not in her corral. One of the fillies was also missing. Uncle Dale was packing up the dually for our day out. We were going to check up on other animals at nearby ranches.

“Have you seen Ava?”

“She had some lessons today.”

“One of the fillies is gone. Does she teach lessons on a horse that young?”

“She mentioned something to Trisha about training the black filly. She’s on the R&W ranch today for the kids’ lessons. They have barrels there so maybe she’s going to get a workout in. I was surprised to hear that she’s getting back into it. Did you have something to do with that, Nate?”

“We talked about it.”

“I’m happy she’s doin’ it. It gives her more to focus on. Anyway, when your dad’s ready we’ll head out. Later this afternoon we’ll be going to R&W, so maybe we’ll catch Ava.” He looked up with a knowing smile.

“I’d just like to say goodbye to her before we leave tomorrow,” I said defensively.

I helped Dale carry his bags to the bed of the truck. He looked down at my boots. “Where’d those come from?”

“Ava.”

He chuckled. “Hop in the backseat, kid, and let your dad sit in front.”

I was starting to remember what it was like to be young again and I liked it.

We waited in the truck for twenty minutes until my father came wobbling down the steps from the main house. On his third step down, Dale laid on the horn and yelled out the window, “Hurry up, you old man!”

I could see my dad say, “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

Dale turned in his seat. “He needs to lose some weight.”

“I know.”

My dad walked past the truck into the barn. “What the hell is he doin’?” Dale asked.

“No clue,” I said.

He came back out with a ton of fishing gear in his hands and his fly-fishing vest draped over his shoulder.

Dale rolled down the window. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for that, Jeff.”

“Well, let’s make time. I want to teach my boy to fly-fish and I want you to help me,” he said in his matter-of-fact tone.

“Throw it in the back, then.”

Uncle Dale looked at me in the rearview mirror, and even though I could only see his eyes, I knew he was smiling. When my father finally got in the truck, we made our way down the long dirt driveway onto the main road.

We went first to a local cattle ranch so Uncle Dale could deliver some medicines, then we made our way several miles south to a home of horse owners who had called complaining
that their six-year-old quarter horse was thrashing around.

“What do you think it is, Doc?” my father said to my uncle as we drove toward the house at the top of a hill.

“Probably just colic, or some kind of impaction.”

“I think we should let Nate examine the horse. What do you think?”

“Sure, that’s a great idea.”

I kept quiet in the back but wondered why they were acting so strangely.

We pulled up behind a huge red barn where we were met by two young women. They greeted us with friendly smiles. I noticed the taller of the two had her blond hair braided perfectly over her shoulders.

Dale waved as he walked past them into the barn. “Morning, ladies.”

“Morning, Dale,” they said in unison.

“I’m Nate.” I put my hand out as I approached, but they started laughing. The shorter, dark-haired girl looked away shyly.

“We know,” the girl with braids said. “You’re the doctor.”

“Yes, I’m a doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too,” my father interrupted wryly, but the girls didn’t seem to care.

They followed us into the barn where we found Dale in one of the stalls looking over a mare.

“Get in here, Nate, and put on one of those gloves.” He pointed to a long plastic glove hanging out of his case.

My father leaned over the stall door and watched the show. “Go on, Nate. Get the glove on, son.”

I moved into the stall, took the glove in hand, and proceeded to pull it all the way up to my shoulder. The girls watched and tried to suppress their laughter.

“What’s going on?”

“Come on, Nate. You can’t be that clueless,” my dad said.

Dale turned to him. “See how smart that fancy college made your boy?”

I looked to the girls for a clue. The short one laughed into her hands before the one in braids said, “You’re gonna have to stick your hand up the horse’s ass and pull out the poo.” She burst into laughter and then they scurried away.

“What? No. No. I can’t. Do you know how much these hands are worth?”

“Come on, Nate, give me a break. Nothing is going to happen to your hand, just be gentle with her. You don’t want to get kicked in the balls. I can’t imagine it feels very good to have a bony arm like yours up her ass.” My father was really enjoying himself.

“Why do I have to do this?”

“Because we’ve both paid our dues.”

“Dear god.” I moved toward the rear of the mare and looked up to Dale.

“Pet her real nice, right there on her behind. Let her know you come in peace.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“And a horse’s ass.”

“Stop it, Dad!”

Dale came over with a large milk jug full of clear gel. “Hand out, son. Got to lube her up first.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You two are enjoying this.”

“Immensely,” my father said.

Uncle Dale continued petting the mare’s head and trying to calm her. “Nate, I’ve done this a million times. Dolly here is constipated. She needs us to help her out. Now work your way in there and see if you can’t find the blockage.”

I hesitated, staring at Dolly’s hindquarters as she whipped her tail around.

“She seems pissed,” I said.

“She’s just really uncomfortable. You’ll see once you grow a set and get this procedure under way.”

“I don’t know if I should be doing this. This horse isn’t familiar with me.”

“What do you want to do, take her out on a date? You’re a doctor, kid. Buck up.”

With no expression on my face, I looked back toward the stall door and my father’s smug grin. “No more talking, Dad.”

I pushed my hand into poor Dolly’s backside and immediately discovered the culprit. The odor alone could have killed a small animal. Gagging, I pulled handful after handful of . . . well . . . poo, out of the horse’s enormous anal cavity. About ten minutes into the procedure, Dolly seemed to relax and feel better.

“She likes you, Nate,” my uncle said.

I’d had too many encounters with shit since I’d been on the ranch to find humor in anything my father or uncle said. “That’s it. She’s good,” I mumbled as I pulled the disgusting glove off my hand. I walked out into the main part of the barn to a sink where I attempted to wash the skin off my hands.

The girl with the braids came over. “Hey, Nate. You did really good in there.”

“Thanks. It took a great deal of skill pulling poop out of that horse’s butt.”

“How long are you in town for?” She didn’t get that I was making a joke.

I stepped back and dried my hands on my flannel shirt. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Wanna go out and have some fun tonight?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, cocked my head to the side, and looked down at her in a fatherly way. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.” She looked seventeen at best.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’ll show you my driver’s license.”

“No need . . .” I paused, realizing I didn’t even know her name.

“Darla,” she offered.

“Well, Darla, I’m actually seeing someone so I’ll have to politely decline your offer.”

“Oh, is it one of your doctor friends in Los Angeles?”

“Actually . . .” For a moment I thought I would use Ava as my excuse, but I quickly realized how fast word travels in a place like this. She seemed to know a lot about me already. “I mean yes, someone from L.A.”

“Oh. For a minute I thought you were gonna say you were dating that freak, Ava.”

“What? Why in the world would you say that about her?”

Realizing I was affronted, she quickly changed her tune. “I mean, I don’t know Ava that well, but everyone around here calls her a freak.”

“Why do you think that is, Darla?” I drew out the last syllable of her name in an unnatural way as I struggled to keep my tone neutral.

She shrugged.

“I have no idea who you’re referring to when you say ‘everyone here,’ but I do know one thing. Ava isn’t a freak at all. She’s smart, beautiful, and talented. A lesser woman might find that intimidating. It was nice to meet you, Darla.”

Still speechless, she managed to squeak out a “bye” as I walked past her.

I was feeling more and more defensive of Ava as I saw how others treated her. There was little compassion for her, it seemed. It was like the hard-knock cowboy life had made everyone a bit callous when it came to death, even one like Jake’s. They didn’t seem to appreciate the impact of a tragedy like that on a man’s widow.

My father’s intention was exactly as I suspected. He sent me out to the ranch so I could see this hardened way of life and learn that some people aren’t given a magical antidote for every problem. These were matters of the heart in many ways but not in the way that I knew the heart. It was strange how being faced with death on a regular basis in the hospital and knowing that I could save a life with my own hands had given me a false sense of what it means to be alive. I was learning that being alive means knowing the threat of dying is there but facing your mortality and moving through it anyway.

I kept quiet while my father whistled a nameless tune. My uncle pulled down a small dirt road to the bank of a stream. We got out and walked down to the tree line so we could see if it was a good fishing spot. It was the widest and most still part of the river, probably five feet deep in the middle at least. Uncle Dale knew exactly where he was going and it looked like my father was familiar as well.