Page 43 of Daddy to Go

I was filling in for another General Practitioner who was on vacation. I started to notice that I seemed to be the one always filling in for practitioners on vacation but was never actually the one thattooka vacation.

Then again, for a while there, I felt like my job was my vacation. Traveling all over, having no real ties, and doing whatever I wanted to do in brand new places almost every week. But standing here today, wiping the crumbs from breakfast off my white lab coat, I wasn’t feeling the excitement that I used to feel from being a traveling doctor.

I had always been so dedicated to my work, so ready to go to bat and get my hands dirty, but today I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around my job. I stood there in the empty examination room staring out the window at yet another asphalt parking lot, my mind somewhere else.

“Doctor Rivington,” the physician’s assistant chirped out as she burst into the room.

I jumped, spinning around. I had to grab the windowsill with my other hand to make sure I didn’t fall over. I had been so lost in my thoughts that she scared the living crap out of me. I hadn’t met this physician’s assistant yet. She was cute, a bouncy blonde with a pepped up attitude like she drank seven cups of coffee each morning.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she giggled as she walked forward putting her hand out. “They told me you were in here and I wanted to introduce myself to you. I’m Helena.”

I gave her a wooden smile and shook her hand, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just lost in my thoughts.”

Her smile seemed to grow bigger. “Well, you better find your way out because you have a huge patient list today. And I do have to say, I understand why everyone wanted to make an appointment.”

Only half hearing what she said I scrunched my forehead. “Why’s that?”

She laughed and shook her hand at me innocently. “Because everyone says you’re super handsome and, of course, now I can see that they were right.”

Was she flirting with me? Oh shit, Helena was definitely flirting with me. Am I really asking myself that question? I used to be able tell within two seconds if a woman was flirting with me, but to be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention. I blinked my eyes at her and glanced up at the clock on the wall. Without warning, as if I was a robot finishing up my charge, I jolted forward and walked quickly from the room.

As I passed her, I mumbled, “Excuse me, I have a patient to see.”

I wasn’t really even sure if I had a patient yet. I just needed to be alone. Helena was a very pretty girl, and most likely was able to hook quite a few guys, especially with that petite body and her flowing blonde hair. She kind of reminded me of one of those women that was super-obsessed with raw foods and at-home workouts.

Normally, a girl like her would interest me. But I wasn’t feeling it at all, which should have been setting off an alarm in my head. But for some reason, I just kept feeling confused. Every time I even tried to think about another woman, Abby came into my mind. If I couldn’t be with Abby, then who would I be with? That’s the question I kept asking myself over and over again.

My conscience was honestly killing me. I felt terrible about leaving Abby like that. I didn’t tell her a thing, I just up and left. Experience had always told me that a clean break was best. There was no sense in dragging things out because long goodbyes are painful and they can last forever. Plus, they usually ended up in tears and snot, with lots of wadded-up Kleenex.

As a result, I was hell-bent on making a clean break, and even changed my phone number because I wanted to start everything new and fresh when I moved. But who really benefited from a clean break? Every other woman in the past had been easy for me to leave. I just left, and within hours I was in a new place with new women. But this time, thing were different. My fingers itched to call Abby. I longed to hear her voice and to lay eyes on those sassy curves.

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’ve been trying so hard. My best friend counseled me and as a result, I went to bars, I talked to women, and yetstill she was right there. All I could think about was how absolutely stunning Abby looked. How she took my breath away when we went on vacation together. How I missed her laugh and her smile. But it wasn’t just about her physical attributes, they were just the starting point. Once I got to know the girl, I realized how sweet and giving she was. She said hello to people as we passed them on the street, and even dogs wagged their tails at her in greeting.

She was the kind of girl that when she cared about you, she cared about you a thousand percent. She was the epitome of selfless, and no matter how many compliments I gave her, or how many times I told her she was absolutely gorgeous, she never lost that essential goodness. It just glowed from her. She had a simple life as a call center worker, yet she tried to pay for a doctor’s dinner. I wanted to treat her to everything and anything she ever wanted, but she never asked for anything. When it came down to it, I wanted to take care of her. It was the first time in my life I ever wanted to take care of anybody besides myself.

After all, sometimes the people who had almost nothing financially were the most generous people that you would ever meet. Abby was the embodiment of that. For all intents and purposes, she was poor, yet she was the person who had the most giving heart. She wasn’t impressed by fancy hotels and expensive dinners. She was impressed by big hearts and good conversations.

I had never met anyone like this girl, and I had a feeling I was never going to meet anybody like her again. She was one in a million, and I had to be honest with myself: I missed her. I missed her texts, I missed her phone calls, and I missed that excited look on her face whenever we got together. She made me feel so special, and she truly thought that I was special as well, and for no reason at all. The only other person that I could think of that ever thought I was special was my mother, and that’s because she was genetically predisposed to think I was god’s gift to man.

Yet, I gave it all up. Why? Out of habit, more than anything. And now, I felt hollow and empty. I missed her goodness, her sweetness, and the loving curves of her body. Don’t get me started on our sex life. The physical connection between the two of us was more intense than I’d ever felt with any woman in my life. Up until Abby, sex had almost felt like a chore for me. An enjoyable chore once I got started, but a chore nonetheless because there was no emotion behind the movements. It was purely physical with the other women.

Not with Abby though. It wasn’t just her body, it was everything about her: the way she moved, the way she breathed, and the way she moaned. She was so giving and willing in the bedroom. She wanted to learn my body, and what I liked so that she could satisfy me. And in return, I was obsessed with figuring out how to give her as much pleasure as I possibly could. I yearned to stroke her plush curves once more. To taste her lips, both top side and bottom, and to feel her shaking against me when she reached ecstasy. The reality of it was, she was so open and honest and ready for me because she trusted me. Yet I took that trust, packed it in my suitcase, and then left.

“Here’s your first patient’s file,” Helena softly said to me this time. “Her name is Abigail Turner, forty-five years old, complaining of abdominal cramping and sudden weight loss. Her blood results are in the file.”

I shook my head, still a little distracted. Helena looked at me strangely and then walked away. Clearly, I had to pull it together. First, because I was going to scare the hell out of the nurse practitioners and everyone else here. Second, because I took a vow a long time ago that I wasn’t going to form any type of serious connection with a woman.

I took the job as a traveling doctor for myself, to get out there and see the world. I wanted to learn, not just about medicine but about who I was. I wanted to sow my wild oats, and to ride off into the sunset whenever I was ready. Eventually I might settle down somewhere, but eventually to me was another ten years away, or maybe even more.

Plus, I loved this job. I loved moving from place to place and starting fresh every time I went. I loved meeting new people, not just women, but people in general. I’ve made so many contacts in so little time that even when I do decide to stop, the career options are endless for me.

But now something’s changed. I found myself in Winchester, Iowa, not wanting to be here, and hating my life. The sad thing was, Ithoughtthis was what I wanted. How could things change so quickly?

I stood there absolutely miserable. I wondered what Abby was doing in that moment. I wondered if she was smiling and happy, or sad and down like me. But what did it really matter? I was gone. I made the decision andI’mthe one who left.

With a deep sigh, I opened up my next patient’s file and glanced over the information with unseeing eyes. This would never do, so I opened the exam door and plastered a fake smile across my lips. I had a job to get done, and the job was everything to me. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

20