Bound to be Dirty (28 page)

Dax munched food, sipped wine, and watched Lily do the same as she told him about the ideas the group had tossed around. Changing the hours of the clinic, taking shifts, job sharing. New processes for making decisions. Different ways of organizing every aspect of the work, from patient scheduling to dealing with supplies and files, even the layout of the office.

“It sounds great,” he said. “Thinking about all the bosses I've seen over the years—in the army, the private sector, government—seems to me a good leader's the one who brings out the best in her people.”

“Not the one who rules with an iron fist and thinks she knows best about everything?”

“Your words,” he pointed out.

“Anyhow, we've got loads of work to do. And—feel free to say ‘I told you so'—we agree that the clinic needs a trained, experienced manager.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“And, finally, to me.” She frowned. “The only hitch is, Jennifer, a receptionist, is taking courses in health-care administration and would love to step up. I don't want to discourage her; she's great, but not ready to take on all the responsibilities.”

“Hire a manager and make Jennifer her assistant. Maybe half-time reception, half-time assistant. She could keep taking courses and get on-the-job training and experience. And she can give the manager loads of information about the clinic, which will save you time.”

Lily's face brightened. “That's a great idea.”

“You've figured out the financing for all this?”

“Patient care and a happy, healthy staff take priority over my pride and my parents' opinion. If I need to dip into the trust fund, I think Gran would approve.”

“I'd bet on it.” He put down his empty plate and reached for Lily's hand, weaving their fingers together.

She gazed into his eyes. “This reminds me of that first summer, the way we shared things and helped each other. I talked about wanting to practice family medicine, and you encouraged me to stand up to my parents.”

“And you suggested that I check out ROTP.”

“You told me you wanted to go to college, but your marks sucked and you'd never get in, and you said your dream was to be a pilot. I did some research and found out that ROTP would pay for your education and the Forces would teach you to fly.”

“Want to know a secret?” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

She squeezed back. “Always.”

“You know why I wanted to go to college?”

“Uh, because everyone did?”

“And there, in a nutshell, was the difference between our worlds,” he said ruefully. “In
yours
, everyone assumed they'd get at least one degree. But neither of my parents had postsecondary education or ever held a decent job. I worked construction, chased girls, and drank beer with guys like me. We talked about the Beavers' chances of winning the Stanley Cup, whether Coors was better than Molson Canadian beer, which waitress had the biggest tits.”

“How evolved,” she teased.

“Yeah, not. I figured that was my future. Best I could hope was that I'd stay out of jail. But then you came along and we got talking about dreams. I'd given up on dreams years back, but you got me dreaming again.” And he'd dreamed big: being a pilot and having a real home with Lily. He'd achieved one dream so why had he let the other one slip through his fingers? He tightened his grip on her hand.

Blue eyes soft in the candlelight, she said, “You told me you'd always watched helicopters, planes, birds, and you wanted to be up in the sky. Where the world was spread out below and you could fly to wild, beautiful places. Where you could be free.”

“Away from my shitty life, away from problems. Yeah.” Lily remembered, all these years later. “I didn't need college for that. College was because of you. I wanted to be the kind of guy who deserved you, Lily.”

“Dax! What were you thinking? You always deserved me. I'm nothing so special.”

“You're special to me. And, honestly, I was kind of a loser. I'd have been a worse one if I hadn't met you.” He shook his head. “Here we are, talking about the past again. We need to focus on the future.”

Her hand tensed in his. “Yes, we do.” She eased her hand free and got up. “Let's put the leftovers in the fridge.” Then, “I'm not avoiding the discussion. I just don't want anything to interrupt.”

“On that subject, you probably don't want to stay up too late, right? You go to the Downtown Eastside clinic pretty early on Saturdays.” He rose and lifted the tray while she collected their glasses and the empty wine bottle.

“I do.”

As they walked to the kitchen, he said, “There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere this time, Lily. We'll talk until we work things out.” He stored leftovers while she rinsed plates and loaded the dishwasher.

She dried her hands on a towel. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I could start hunting up some work here.”

“How about leaving that until next week? I'm going to find someone to sub for me at the clinic. I want us to be able to talk—tonight, and then tomorrow—without distractions.”

This really was a new Lily, willing to shift a responsibility to a colleague. He touched her cheek, which made him want to kiss her soft skin, so he leaned down and did exactly that. “I suppose sex counts as a distraction, right?”

She laughed softly. “Maybe an intermission? Talk, then make love, then more talk?”

“See, we can compromise.”

“Let me go make a call.”

When she turned to go, he caught her shoulder. “Thanks for doing that, sweetheart.” For putting their marriage first on her priority list.

She rested a hand atop his. “Thanks for coming home, my love.”

Thirty-one

F
ive minutes later, Lily, sitting at her desk chair, said into her phone, “Thanks, Vijaya. I owe you.” A doctor at the Well Family Clinic, the other woman was single, childless, and not currently dating anyone. She spent much of her free time working out and visiting art galleries.

“No problem. It's not like I had anything better to do on a cold Saturday in January.”

Normally, that would be Lily's situation as well. But tomorrow, she would have something better to do. She and Dax would apply their intelligence, creativity, and flexibility to finding an amazing solution.

They'd both have to compromise. Could she imagine giving up the Well Family Clinic and practicing in a little town in the middle of the wilderness? Maybe, if it meant that much to him. But what about the thing that meant so much to
her
? Having children. What if he stood firm, and she had to choose: Dax or kids?

“Lily?”

She turned to see her husband standing in the door of her office.

“Having problems finding someone?”

“No, it's fine.” A surge of nervous energy pushed her to her feet. “Dax, we need to talk about children.”

“Uh, yeah, I know.” His words weren't exactly encouraging. “I made coffee.”

Nerves plus caffeine? She'd be awake all night. But then, with her love for Dax and the whole rest of her life on the line, what hope did she have of sleeping anyway? “Coffee sounds good.”

“I'll get it.”

Lily went back to the living room, where she buried her nose in the vase of flowers on the mantel. Roses and freesia provided the heavenly scent, and other more exotic blooms and greenery made the bouquet distinctive. For some reason, the flowers made her remember how Dax used to give her bouquets of mixed blooms that he pinched from Mrs. B's garden at Camp Skookumchuck. When he came into the room, she said, “You didn't steal these from anyone's garden.”

“Figured it wouldn't be so romantic if I got arrested.” He put two mugs down and took a small box from under his arm. “Dessert.”

She recognized the wrapping. “You went to ChocolaTas.”

“Irish Coffee chocolates for me, Baileys and Grand Marnier for you.”

Her two favorite flavors. She opened the box, took a Grand Marnier chocolate, and sat on the couch. “I'd almost think you were trying to woo me.” Or soften her up.

“Only to show how much I appreciate you.” He took a candy himself and sat beside her. “So, the kids thing. You really want them. I know you said that when you were a teenager, and I guess it's a pretty normal thing for a woman, but—”

“For anyone. Dax, it's one of the most primal biological urges. Mate, reproduce.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Fair enough. But beyond the biological stuff, can you tell me more about it?”

“How do you mean?” She studied him over the rim of her coffee mug, taking it as a good sign that he looked confused rather than dismissive.

“Why you want kids, how many you want, what life would look like with kids. You gotta understand, I don't really get what family life is supposed to be.”

Poor Dax. With his upbringing, no wonder he couldn't relate to the idea of a happy family. “Very different from what you had. Different from my family too. I don't really care how many kids, but probably at least two. The important thing is that it be a loving, supportive family. Yes, kids should have rules, boundaries, goals, but also fun, play, encouragement.”

He'd sipped coffee as she spoke and now put his mug down. “Do you want kids because you want to create, or make up for, what you didn't have yourself?”

It didn't sound like a challenge, only an honest question. She considered it seriously. “Maybe in part. But, more than that, it's just this feeling, deep inside me, that I really, really want to be a mom. I love children. I mothered Anthony to death until he got old enough to hate it. I adored my friends' kid brothers and sisters.” Chocolate eased anxiety so she reached for a Bailey's candy. “And Sophia makes my heart melt. How about you? You looked pretty comfortable holding her.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “She's a charmer.” Then he ran his hand over his bearded jaw. “I like kids, I guess. I mean, what's not to like? But I don't know anything about raising them. I'd be crappy.”

“No. You'd be responsible and protective, and you'd be there for them. You'd never make them think they didn't matter.”

He twisted his fingers together. “Maybe.”

“When we first got together, I talked about having kids and I thought you agreed with me. Was that true, but then you changed your mind and never told me?”

“I thought you'd changed your mind too.” He rolled his shoulders like he was easing out tension. “That's what we get for not talking.”

“So you were telling the truth?” she persisted. “You did want a home and children?”

“I guess. It was a crazy dream.”

“It wasn't crazy. What happened to that dream?”

He frowned and she couldn't tell whether it was because his thoughts were confused, or there were things he was wary of saying to her.

“Dax, talk to me.” She leaned toward him, but didn't touch him. “I need to understand. Do you no longer have that dream, or do you think it can't come true? Do you really think you'd make a bad father, or do you think I'd make a bad mom? I swear, I'd cut back on work and I wouldn't be controlling and demanding like my mom and dad. I'd—”

He'd been shaking his head and now held up a hand to stop her. “I believe you, Lily. Now, I believe you. Before, I thought the clinic was your baby and that it ruled your life. But now I see you making changes, and yeah, I do think you'd make more if you had kids.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “
You
need to understand? Hell,
I
don't understand. I thought I'd given up on the dream. I thought
we
had done that. And it made sense, because I never really believed I'd have . . .” He trailed off and bit his lip.

“That you'd have what you didn't as a child.” She grabbed his hand. “Right? Well, I believe we can do it. We can create the kind of home and family we didn't have as kids. Why don't you think so?”

“I don't know.” He said the words leadenly. “Lily, I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But something's holding me back.”

She let go of his hand. “You don't trust me? You don't trust us? To build a home together and be good parents?”

With a pained expression, he said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love and trust aren't the same thing.”

“Maybe it's me I don't trust.” He dragged his hands through his hair. “I don't know, Lily. I have to be honest with you and—”

“Yes, please, Dax.” Even if the truth was hard to take.

“Okay. Until last week, I thought we'd decided against having kids, so I dismissed the whole idea. Now that I know it's so important to you, now that I have to think seriously about it, I . . . well, it's like what you said. You have this deep-rooted feeling that you should be a parent. I have this feeling that I shouldn't. That I can't. That it's not right.”

Worry lines creased her forehead. “Maybe you're scared? It's some kind of defense system?”

He frowned, reflected for a moment. “I don't know where it comes from. But I promise, I'll try to figure this out, see if I can, uh, change my mind. Lily, I'm not saying no. I just can't say yes either. Is that okay for now?”

She bit her lip. “I admit it's not what I want to hear.” He hadn't said a flat-out no, though. She picked up her coffee mug and rotated it in her hands. “But you know, even if we were both sure we wanted to have kids, we'd have a lot of other things to work out before I'd feel confident about doing it.”

“If we have kids, we need to know they'll have a stable, happy home.”

“Yes. And we won't do it until we're both absolutely sure.” She caught and held his gaze. “But if you decide, absolutely decide, you don't want children, you have to tell me.”

“I promise. Are you”—he cleared his throat—“are you saying you'd leave me if I don't want children?”

There it was: the question she'd posed for herself an hour ago, in the home office. He'd interrupted before she'd really considered it. A pang hit her heart. A deep physical ache. No children or no Dax. Now that she and her husband had rediscovered, or renewed, their love for each other, the idea of life without him was agonizing. But to never have children . . .

“Which would I give up, my left arm or my right?” she said softly. “My heart or my soul?” It was an impossible dilemma. “I don't honestly know.” And she hoped never to have to make that choice.

He swallowed audibly, like he was forcing down a lump in his throat.

“I love you, Dax.”

“I know. I love you too.” He squeezed his eyes shut, gave his head a brief shake, opened his eyes again. His gray irises were soft and silvery.

Lily gazed into them, hoping and praying that he'd find the same dream that was so clear in her mind: the two of them cuddling a baby of their own.

Dax reached over to grip the bare feet she'd curled up on the couch. He cradled them easily in his big hand. “This isn't easy.”

She sighed. “I don't think marriage is supposed to be. Talking to my patients, the staff, I hear stories about tough times. When people get married, they're full of optimism and dreams. But life happens, people get older and change, and after a while marriage is less about dreams than about getting through each stressful day. That's when a lot of people throw in the towel.”

“Like we were going to.” He gave a tired half smile. “But we found out it's not so easy to quit, not when you love each other. Nor is it easy to stay, and fight to make it work.”

A thought struck her. “Do you love flying the most when it's easy, or when it's challenging?”

His smile widened and warmed. “You know the answer to that.”

“Me too. Not that I wish illness on my patients, but I love solving the tough medical challenges.”

“So we're fighters who thrive on challenge. This is a good thing.” He released her feet and stood. “More coffee?”

“Just what I need.” All the same, she held out her mug.

He took both mugs to the kitchen, then came back and returned hers full of dark, steaming brew. “So the other thing,” he said as he resumed his seat beside her, “is my job. Those long stretches in the bush.”

“Or my job,” she said reluctantly. “I love the clinic, especially with the changes we're talking about, and I love living in Vancouver. But if it's really important to you to be out in the wilderness . . .”

“Something in me needs to connect with the wilderness regularly, but I don't have to live there. I've been thinking, I could get a job based here, like with the Coast Guard doing search and rescue. Or I could get my own helicopter and take freelance work, mostly day trips, occasionally for two or three days. Since we paid off the condo, I've salted away a fair bit.”

Her heart flip-flopped. She touched his arm. “I'd love it if you were based here.”

“But I'm not a condo guy, Lily. This place made sense with me being away so much. But if I'm home, I want a house and a big yard, the bigger the better, or maybe a park nearby. A wilderness park like Pacific Spirit.”

If they had kids, she wanted a house and yard too. Especially if Dax was home to look after the heavy yard work and house maintenance. “That sounds good, but a house by Pacific Spirit Park would be really expensive. Like, three or four million, I'd guess.” The moment she said that number, she realized something. Slowly, she said, “Gran's money . . .”

He shook his head. “No, that doesn't feel right. If we get a house, it should be one we can afford on our own. Here's another idea. We keep the condo but get a cottage in the country and go there for weekends. Long weekends, whenever we can both manage it.”

An in-between place that worked for both of them, as Kim had suggested. “Like the people who own the cottage we stayed in at Whistler. Prices there are high but property values have dropped.”

“Or a place closer to Vancouver, somewhere less developed, less touristy. Lions Bay, Britannia Beach, Squamish, Bowen Island. Hey, we could even live there and commute. It'd be less than an hour's drive.”

“Which lots of people who work in Vancouver do every day, from Surrey, Langley, White Rock. I always feel smug, being a ten-minute walk from work. Not,” she added quickly, “that I'm saying we can't do it. Only that it'd mean some adjustments. It's great to consider these options.”

“It is.” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch toward her. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She fit herself into the curve of his arm. “I told everyone at the clinic that I not only want to focus my time on patient care, but also cut back my hours. We could coordinate our schedules and make sure we have most weekends free. Maybe even three-day weekends.”

“We could work four long days. If we lived in the country, we could drive into Vancouver before rush-hour traffic and leave after it. We could afford to do that; we both make good money and we're not exactly extravagant about spending.”

“So much to think about.” She curled closer against the familiar, wonderful warmth of his muscular body. “We lost each other for a while, Dax. Maybe even lost ourselves. I feel like we're finding our way back. Or rather, ahead, together. It's wonderful.” Particularly since he'd promised to seriously consider having children.

He kissed the top of her head. “I guess it's like with your clinic. There aren't magic answers, right off the top. It takes brainstorming, thought, time.”

“Trust,” she said.