A Summer in Sonoma. Робин Карр
Beth said. “I’m not a good candidate for marriage. I’m the one who wouldn’t be able to compromise—I like things the way I like things.”
And I’d do anything, Cassie thought. Really, anything. But that opportunity hadn’t even presented itself. “So, you don’t think it would be crazy?” she asked. “To have a baby?”
“Nah, I don’t think it’s crazy,” she answered easily. “Actually, I think it’s intelligent. What’s crazy is marrying the wrong person because you want a family. If I wanted a child but didn’t have a partner, I’d definitely consider it. But that’s a far-fetched thought for me…”
“How much time do you think you have? I mean, how much time do we have?”
“Six or seven years, realistically. Longer under the right circumstances. We’re getting women through healthy pregnancies older and older. Right now I’m too consumed to even think about things like partners, babies, and that’s the truth. I don’t know what I’d do with a boyfriend if I had one. Run out on him every time the phone rang, probably. Listen, I don’t have any advice—I think that one very bad boyfriend might be it for my love life. I’ve always been too busy. I can’t pay attention to a man for long, which is probably the real reason that last one ended so badly. My mind wanders. I’m always thinking about other things. I’m selfcentered. And if I found a guy like me? We’d be like strangers in the same house—totally preoccupied with our own agendas. I might be better off never running into a guy I could tolerate. That’s why I can’t have a child without a nanny—I’m probably not capable of being completely responsible for a child.”
“Aw, that can’t be true…”
“It can be. Look at my parents. They were just brilliant nutcases—a couple of smart people who didn’t care about much outside of their work. Other than my education, they didn’t have a clue what was happening in my life. You could talk to either one of them for fifteen straight minutes and they might not hear a word. It’s a DNA thing—it’s in me, too. That’s why everyone thinks I’m weird.”
Cassie smiled at her. “Well, I don’t. I think you’re amazing. And your patients love you.”
“I’m so lucky that way,” she said appreciatively. “I think I accidentally became a good doctor. It’s a miracle. And believe me, I don’t take it for granted. I love my work so much.” She smiled wistfully. “Honestly, I live for it. It’s all that matters.”
Cassie had always envied Beth’s brains and success, even though what she really wanted was what Julie had. Beth had always seemed so sure of everything she aimed for in life. When they were younger she’d never been the least bit insecure about not being popular, not having a boyfriend. Even major setbacks—and Beth had been through some heavy stuff—barely seemed to slow her down. She marched on, following her instincts, doing what she was born to do.
Beth’s parents were oddballs—a couple of middleclass eggheads. Her mother was a librarian at the college and her father was a professor—helminthology. The study of worms. Beth grew up in a messy house cluttered with papers, bulging bookshelves and microscopes, dishes stacked in the sink, beds unmade, dirty clothes piled high, her parents completely distracted by their intellectual obsessions. They never had a lot of money to throw around, nor did they pay much attention to their daughter, but they had real high educational standards and had raised themselves a young genius who proved she could be the best of both of them. Beth had been in gifted programs since she was six.
But Julie…Julie had Billy, who had adored her for thirteen years. He still looked at her as if she was the only woman alive. They might have to pinch their pennies most of the time, but their relationship was solid, unshakable. Jules might not be able to count on being able to pay the bills, but she could always count on Billy loving her, being there for her. And if they ran into a big problem, they never failed to tackle it together.
Given a choice, Cassie would take the kids, money troubles and true love, which she figured must make her a fool. A rational look at the world around her indicated an M.D. was more practical and reliable than a Mr. and Mrs.
Driving home from lunch, she found herself passing that motorcycle dealership. She let herself go three more blocks before making a U-turn and going back. She went into the showroom and faced the same grinning salesman. “Hi,” she said. “I wonder if Walt Arneson is working today?”
“One second.” He smiled. He went down the counter to a phone, dialed, spoke into it briefly and said, “Miss?” He held the receiver toward her.
“Hello?” she said into the phone. “Walt?”
“Hi,” he said. “How are you?”
“Good. I was on my way home and passed the dealership and thought…maybe you’d like me to buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Are you in a big hurry?”
“Well…no, I guess not. Why?”
“I’m at another store, but if you want to wait a few minutes—like, twenty—I’ll be right there.”
“Oh, listen. I don’t want you to go to any—”
“Cassie, I love having coffee with you. It’s not any trouble, believe me.”
“Are you sure?”
“You made my day. Go to the bookstore, get us a couple of coffees, settle into our spot if it’s free and I’ll see you in twenty.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Walk slowly.” And he hung up.
This is loony, she found herself thinking. What in the world do I hope to gain by a dumb-ass move like this? “You called him at another store?” she asked the salesman.
“Sure. That’s where he was. He’s on the move a lot.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.” Then she headed for the bookstore, slowly. She browsed a little before buying the coffees, settling into the corner that had become theirs.
Thirty minutes later, she knew what she hoped to gain. She was laughing with him as she told him about lunch with her girlfriends, about Marty complaining about her husband, about Beth suggesting it was perfectly logical to have a baby without one. She told him all about Steve and her plans to get a puppy in a couple of years to keep him company. He told her about the ride he took up to Tahoe over the weekend—just a quick one, a few hours in the morning. When he described the views, the lake, the mountains in full summer green, she began to get a sense for why he found this enjoyable. It was odd that this grease monkey had such an appreciation for the outdoors.
“Seems like if you’re so fond of nature, you’d hunt or fish or camp.”
“I camp,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Sort of. If I have time for a weekend ride, I take a bedroll and backpack, find a nice piece of beach under the stars or a soft pad of grass on a hilltop and…camp. I don’t think I’m patient enough to fish and I could never shoot anything.”
“How about golf?” she asked teasingly.
“You’re kidding me, right?” He laughed hard at that. Imagine this guy in his boots and chains and naked lady swinging around a golf club with the Polo-clad crowd.
They learned a little more about each other. Neither of them had ever been married; they both came from families of four children, though hers were half sibs. His family was local, hers was in Des Moines. And they’d both worked at their current jobs for more than five years.
At one point he asked her if she was still feeling nervous about her incident and she told him she was slowly getting past that, but she’d decided to be a lot more cautious. She didn’t want to find herself in that position ever again. “I’m all done dating,” she said. “At least for a good long time. I think I’ve been through enough.”
“Understandable.”
“That