Breaking the Doctor, page 9
Our sounded like a dream come true, but she pursed her lips to figure out how to help him as he opened a cabinet that housed all the shoes near the door. “So part-time child care…I’ll talk to the nanny and set the schedule.”
He grabbed his Gucci sneakers that looked practically new and handed over her canvas sneakers that had seen better days. “I don’t mean to give orders.”
“It’s good to set routines.” The pounding in her head meant her adrenaline was on overdrive. She ignored how jumpy her skin was and asked, “Anything else?
He held open the door for her and let her pass as he said, “You can do whatever you want, Patti. It was just a suggestion.”
She’d over-reacted—something she tended to do when she became afraid of losing something. She chewed on her bottom lip for a second and kicked a small pebble while he locked the door. It was a bad habit so she stopped, wishing they’d said goodbye to the girls. It was too late now, but she offered her hand as they walked to the Mercedes in his driveway. “I shouldn’t have sounded so prickly. I’m nervous about meeting your friends.”
He walked her to the car door and opened the passenger side for her. “Look, Persians in a small community all know each other.” He closed the door and she was in silence until he got behind the wheel and pressed his finger to start the engine. Reza motioned with his head for her to do her seatbelt. She buckled herself in and he did the same while he said, “There is an email group where they get together and talk politics, among other things. Even if you unsubscribe, the community is small and people continue to contact you.”
Huh. He backed out with the video monitors guiding him as she asked, “Why?”
He transitioned to drive on the smooth road. “We enjoy our food and holidays, the same as every other group, and email is the easiest way to include everyone.”
Almost like a small town that gets together for holidays. She’d seen things like that in movies and read about them in books. Her life had never been anything like that. Even when she was a girl in school, she barely remembered anyone ever coming over to her house. When she’d moved out on her own, she hadn’t invited people over. She used to dream that she belonged somewhere. Patti smiled at Reza. “Like the stew we had, which was delicious.”
He nodded and then snapped his fingers like she’d reminded him of something. “Yes. I’ll order take-out from a restaurant to serve when the women come over tonight and have the chef make a few desserts.”
Food was good if they were hosting a party. She stared ahead at the road and nodded to herself as she patted his strong arm. Where did he work out, or find the time? “Let’s not think about this anymore. I’m sorry I was so uneasy at the idea. I’ve not been to a party at all in six months, since my sister came to live with me.”
He turned into a strip mall with a social security office inside it. He bumped into her arm gently once he parked and then jumped out to get her door. Once she joined him on the sidewalk, he asked, “What about you?”
She blinked, not having a clue what he was talking about. Patti ran her hand through her hair to massage her skull. “What about me?”
Reza held the glass door for her and walked beside her as they made their way to the attendant. People were seated in plastic seats and staring at various televisions overhead. “Any friends you want to introduce me to? We can combine, or invite them another night.”
Oh. She pressed her lips together and dug out her paperwork from her bag as goosebumps grew on her arms. Reza looked like he needed an answer so she quickly said, “No, not really.”
She talked to the agent and showed her current driver’s license, then completed the application. He handed them a ticket and then she and Reza sat on the multi-colored chairs for waiting. She held Reza’s hand, grateful that he’d let the subject go. He would probably consider it strange that she didn’t have a dozen friends.
A few minutes later, she had her new social security card and they quickly left the building. He asked, “Why not? Are you embarrassed by our marriage?”
“No.” She looped her arm through his, aware that she hoped for their relationship to grow. She let a small sigh as they returned to his car and said, “My high school friends all left Miami to get jobs in other parts of the country and even I went to New York for a while, losing touch. So I’m not really close to anyone these days though I’m active on social media.”
He opened her door. “That sounds lonely. The Persian list serv with events gets me out and mingling, even with Sara, as children are usually around.”
“That’s nice, not all of us have that.” Had she been lonely? She scooted in the passenger seat and he sat on the driver’s side. Errands could be accomplished fast with him so close to everything. He started the car and backed out of the spot. “It’s the reality for a lot of people now,” she said. “The days of knowing your neighbors ended a while ago. I find children groups to be the closest thing I’ve seen to old-fashioned communities.”
Small groups for activities sometimes had the advantage of getting to be friends. He drove across the lot, stopping at a DMV. This area of town was more upscale, and it showed here too. He parked in front. “What young children groups?”
Her body had tingles from his being near, but she pushed her hair out of her face as she got out her door and met him outside. “I’ll look up ones in your… our area to bring Sara and Rose to.”
They walked toward the next door and he said, “I can pay you…”
“No, I’m not taking a salary.” Her hope that more might happen would hit a huge wall if he viewed her as an employee. A million thoughts raced in her head on how to show him that they fit together. She smiled. “I’m your wife. I’m happy to be part of your family.”
“Our family,” he corrected. “And as my wife, I’ll set up an account for your personal use and for you to get whatever you want for the children. It’s great how wonderful they are getting along.”
Growing up her mother took care of the house and her father worked to make money so she remembered how family can also be a team. The air conditioning of the DMV was a nice contrast to the heat outside. Rows of empty seats, and uniformed DMV officers were all at their stations. They took a ticket at the machine.
Reza accepted Rose, and that Rose and Sara were hitting it off, calling each other sisters already. She took out her new social security card and her old driver’s license, and showed them to the DMV officer. Again there were no lines so everything was easy. The last time she’d gone to the DMV, she’d sat in a cheap plastic chair for hours. Once the agent left, she nodded and said, “Right, and this ID, with me taking your name, is the first step in proving that we’re family.”
“You don’t have to,” he argued.
Yes. They were now one family and company coming shouldn’t frighten her, even if the woman had wanted to marry Reza. The agent returned and handed her a paper that showed her license would be mailed to her in a week. For now they were finished. “Reza, it’s done. Let’s go home.”
He walked with her and opened the door, but said, “No.”
Outside the heat and humidity baked her skin almost immediately and she longed for a cold breeze. Luckily they’d parked close. Reza opened the car and had already turned on the air conditioner. She settled back in her seat. “No?”
Once he claimed the driver’s seat and closed his door, the air conditioner cooled her down and she calmed, until he took her hand. “Persians are into fashion. I didn’t see you pack any fancy dresses other than one black one.”
So tonight was a test? She didn’t own nice things anymore—and never to the extent of his wardrobe. “Dresses?”
He glanced at her simple green t-shirt and shrugged. “You’re beautiful as you are, but let’s stop at the mall and get you a few nice labels and some heels too. Dressed up, you’ll be the prettiest woman there.”
Well, when he put it like that… she relaxed into her seat. Shopping could be fun and distract her from the fact that people were coming over for dinner to meet her. “You know about heels?”
He headed down US1 toward a high-end shopping center.
She turned the music on for background noise as he said, “In my culture our relationship will be judged based on how you look, so we need to get you the best.”
Clothes were never her thing. Even back in school, she was happy enough in a t-shirt. Music didn’t require her to be beautiful or wear lots of makeup. She could strum her guitar and be transported in her head to someplace magical. She hoped this part of her life was temporary because she’d never pull off being fashion forward. Her skin was raw nerves but she held her hands on her lap and said, “I don’t need clothes, but I want to make you happy, Reza.”
He drove into the mall and nodded to her. “Patti, it’s important, or I wouldn’t say anything.”
Fashion wasn’t something she was good at. They were from two different worlds to begin with, and now this? She gritted her teeth and let herself out of the car. Without looking at him, she said, “Then I’ll learn about fashion, just for you.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and massaged her arm like she’d done to him earlier. “Only around other people, not for me.”
Well…okay. Once in a while, on special occasions, she could wear nice clothes. “I’ll make you proud.”
They entered the upscale New York clothing store that she’d never be able to afford before and held her head high. Somehow she’d show him they could blend, and blending meant she’d have to change too. She studied the clothes and wished she knew what worked for her.
Patti Davies Moradi was about to learn fashion.
Chapter 11
Reza waited near the dressing room as Patti paraded back and forth to show him the dresses that he’d picked out, with the assistance of a knowledgeable saleswoman.
Patti seemed shy. He guessed it was about money though she hadn’t said exactly. There might be another reason that she hadn’t shared yet.
He’d once been far poorer than she’d been. Becoming a doctor meant he now could afford whatever he wanted, but there was something about Patti’s nervous ticks that gave him pause.
Perhaps it wasn’t the money—but what, then?
She showed him a final black dress with a sweetheart neckline—the silhouette followed the line of her body until it reached her knees. It could have been custom-made, it fit that well. Reza stood immediately. She turned around and he glanced at her curvy figure and smiled. She was beautiful on the inside as well as out, and in this dress, everyone would see he’d found a jewel. He took both of her hands and smiled at her. “This looks great on you.”
She tugged on the knee-length hem of the dress. “Are you sure?”
He smoothed her skin and noticed how soft she was under his touch. Her blue eyes glimmered at him as he said, “It shows off your figure nicely.”
The truth was, Patti was a dream. She had no idea that she’d starred in his fantasies long before he’d ever met her. She said with a red face, “And it shows off my backside.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Which is definitely squishable and one of your most memorable parts.”
“You can’t be real, Reza.” Her eyes fluttered closed.
Goosebumps grew on his body from her touch. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers.
Patti kissed like she was an angel, sent from heaven above to bless him.
He never wanted the kiss to end, but he had to let her go. They needed to pay for the dresses and get out of here.
Seeing her naked again was on the agenda, but they had to hurry to prepare for the last-minute get together.
Waiting till after the party seemed way too long. He led her to the cashier, paid for the clothes and shoes, and carried the bags to the car with her beside him.
As he opened her passenger door, he said, “We just need to order the food now and then we can go home and have a few hours to ourselves.”
A few hours where she was completely his. Despite their differences, she was sweet and good and he ached for her again. She brushed against him. “That sounds wonderful.”
Right. He closed the door behind her and as he walked to the driver’s door, he realized he shouldn’t worry about their differences—she seemed open to learning new things. He stepped into his car, started the engine with a wave of his thumb and said, “Patti, we’ll need to go to a few hospital benefits together, and I’d like in the future if we both go to some of the bigger Persian events, like New Year’s.”
Was that a wince? He almost asked but then she smiled at him and nodded. “New Year’s sounds fun. What happens there?”
Culture was important to him, especially for Sara. Sara would need to see some Persian holidays and he’d continue teaching her Farsi like her mother had been by speaking to her in his native language. “We have a nice table setting and usually go to a fancy party.”
She held still, but her tone made her sound… stressed, like his patients were before he gave them the news. “So more dresses?”
This wasn’t that bad. Fashion was something they could bridge. He squeezed her hand and then backed out of the spot as he said, “It’s not every day or anything. You can choose whether to come, or not.”
She let out a deep breath and color grew on her cheeks but she relaxed in her seat and said, “Okay. I don’t know why this is a problem. I’ll shake it off. I’m just nervous about meeting a woman who wanted to marry you.”
Ah. He should have realized that. He winked at her as he drove her to the restaurant to order their food for later. “Patti, we just need time to learn each other.”
He turned into the parking lot behind the restaurant while she said, “You’re so calm about everything. Were you always like that?”
He glanced at her briefly and returned his attention to hunting for a space, then shook his head. “Calm? Me? My mother would be surprised at that statement.”
Her eyes widened but he also saw where to put the car. He maneuvered to get the spot another car was vacating while she said, “She would? But you’re so put together, all the time. Do you ever, I don’t know, loosen up?”
Wait. Was he not up to her standards? His muscles tightened. He parked. “How do you mean?”
He turned off the car and opened his door. Once he opened hers, she took his hand and answered, “Loosen up. Not care what people think about what you look like, and just enjoy yourself?”
She thought he cared about other people’s opinions? He wasn’t sure how to answer that, but it was only marginally true. Well-made clothes were an investment and looking put together was expected of a doctor for any formal event he took her to. If she didn’t fit in, everyone would notice. “About some things. Does that upset you?”
He reached for the door as she said, “No. As you said, we’re learning about each other. This is the restaurant?”
He waited for her to go inside and then held her hand again as the waiter gestured to an empty table. “Let’s stay for a few minutes and you can taste the kebob.”
Her eyebrow lifted but she walked beside him and said, “Sounds yummy.”
They took their seats. The waiter had held her chair for her, but Reza waited for her to sit before he took his. He told the waiter in Farsi their order, and his to-go order. Once the waiter left, he reclaimed her hand across the table. “Anyhow Patti, do you really want me to wear a t-shirt when we go to Orlando?”
She laughed, tracing his fingers and back of his hand. “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to you without a button around your collar.”
Every single one of his shirts had a button. Polo shirts were his usual casual wear, except for the gym. Good. He’d solved the problem. He’d wear one of his gym shirts around the house to satisfy her. “Why is that important to you?”
The waiter returned with two plates of kebab, rice with saffron, and tomatoes. She picked up her fork. “Cause your life is perfect on the outside, but…”
He sprinkled sumac that was on the table onto his meat and she put her fork down and followed his example. “This spice makes the meat taste sweeter. But what?”
She cut her food without looking at him. “But sometimes I’m a little messy and kids are messy and sometimes a sloppy joe is just yummy.”
Sloppy wasn’t his usual anything. Ever. He ate his kebab in silence and let her enjoy hers as well. Her small sighs of pleasure from the lamb and beef meat meant she liked her food.
Once they were both done with their meal, he asked, “What’s a sloppy joe?”
“A sandwich.” She took his hand again and smiled at him as she said, “I’ll make them if you’ll try it.”
He had no concept of what it could be. The waiter brought them black tea and his to-go bags. He waited till the server left and asked, “Does it have pork?”
She shook her head fast and raised her hand like she was swearing in to be a judge or something. “No. Beef.”
Sloppy still sounded bad. But he hadn’t tried too many American foods though he’d lived here for over a decade. There probably wasn’t a polite way out of this. He nodded and hoped he hadn’t just agreed to his own death. “Then I look forward to it.”
She saw his torture and decided to up it when she teased, “It’s messy and might drip.”
He picked up his clear glass of tea and used it to block his grimace. “Why would you want them?”
He drank his tea hot, but she let hers cool down while she said, “Because they’re good.”
He couldn’t imagine drinking tea so tepid, but it was a very British-influenced habit Americans had. “Black tea is a staple for after meals. Did you enjoy the kubideh?”
She stared at him blankly. “The what?”
He processed his words and then realized he’d used Farsi. He smiled. “The kebab.”
She tested her tea but it was clearly too hot for her still as she put it back down. “It was really delicious, and not dry at all, which is what I remember from one I had in the past.”
