"Mina, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"How about dinner tonight at the Victorian Restaurant over by the lake?"

"You must have read my mind," I said. "I've wanted to go back there for a long time."

"The Victorian it is," Rosetti said. "Be ready at seven. I'll pick you up."

"That sounds wonderful. See you at seven."

I hung up the phone and burrowed deep beneath the bed covers. It felt so good just to lazily stretch out and relax. The only thing better than lounging here alone would be lying here with a lover I didn't want to escape from in the morning. It had been quite some time since I'd had that luxury.

What if something were to happen between me and Rosetti? Would it be the beginning of something wonderful or the kiss of death to our friendship? Of course, I realized that for anything to happen between us, she would have to share the romantic feelings budding inside of me. And I didn't think she did. I hated the fact that the two women I cared for most romantically didn't return my feelings. For better or for worse, Regan and Rosetti were in my life but didn't seem to want to share it as my partner.

I tried to get these thoughts out of my head, so I picked up the phone again and dialed Sean's number to check on him and Ed. Sean picked up immediately. His voice sounded tired.

"You okay?" I asked, worried that perhaps this was too much for him after all.

"Yes, just tired."

"How's your dad doing?

"He's still pretty out of it. Do you think you can come over and check on him? I called hospice and they said it would be a while until they could send someone out. They told me they were having a hard time finding a replacement for Regan."

"I'll see if I can speed things up. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Last night after I got off the phone with you, Regan's baby suffered a cardiac arrest. Things didn't look so good for a while, but I think she'll be okay. The baby, I mean."

"Why do you think I want to hear anything about that?" His anger rose more quickly than I had imagined. "And why do you have anything to do with all that in the first place? Mina, stay away from that woman!"

"I'm an ER doctor and she came to the ER, Sean. It's my job to deal with her. I can't stay away."

"I know, I know." He paused, obviously trying hard to calm himself. Then he continued quietly. "I hope she's okay. And the baby, too."

"Yes, I think they'll both be fine. Sean, I..." I felt bad for having brought all this up. But I needed to talk about Regan. Sean, however, was not the person to talk to about this. I realized that.

"What?"

"Nothing. I...Let me get up and moving. I'll be there within the hour."

"Thanks, Mina."

I lay back on the pillows and thought about Sean, about how even though we were divorced, we managed to maintain a close and loving friendship despite our disagreements. I wanted to make sure that nothing would disturb that. I thought about Regan and the fact that I spent the past years yearning for her, imagining, hoping for a life with her, unable to truly move on without her. Then I thought about Rosetti, about our friendship, and the twinge of excitement that went through me when we were together. These were the three most important people in my life so far, and I needed to figure out what role I wanted them to play in the life I had yet to live.

I dialed the hospital's number and asked the operator to put me through to Regan's room. The phone rang about seven times. A male voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Is Regan Martin still there?"

"Regan Douglass?" The male voice became gruff.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Regan Douglass. This is..."

"Wait a minute. She's in the bathroom."

I heard him knock on the bathroom door. "Regan.... phone..." he said and waited. He never did come back on the line. Regan picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Regan, it's Mina...is everything all right?"

"Oh, hi, Mina, yes, I'm...I'm getting ready to go home. My OB just released me. Jim and I will be going right over to Children's Hospital to check on Tess. She's supposed to have her echocardiogram this afternoon."

Of course, the gruff voice belonged to her husband. Regan was married. No matter what Page and Rosetti said about Regan having come back for me, she was married and had a child.

"Good. Sounds like the doctors over there are right on track," I said quietly, hoping she wouldn't notice the wave of sadness sweeping over me. "Are you doing okay?"

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the phone line.

"Regan...?"

"I'm okay...I better get going. The nurse's aide is here with a wheelchair to take me downstairs."

"Okay. Please keep me posted. On Tess's condition, I mean."

"I will. And thanks, Mina...thanks for everything."

"You're welcome. I hope everything turns out all right." I really did want her to be all right.

"Thanks," Regan whispered into the phone.

I rubbed my head as I pulled myself out of bed. There was too much going on, too much emotional turmoil, too much to think about; it actually made my head ache and my stomach churn. I poured water into the Mister Coffee and went into the bathroom to clean up while the coffee brewed. There is nothing like the smell of fresh coffee brewing to clear your head.

Halfway through my second cup, the phone rang. It was my mother.

"Mina, I've been trying to get a hold of you for days. Where have you been?"

"Working. I've been at the hospital for the last day and a half," I said. "Oh and Sean's dad is sick. I've been over there a lot, too."

"Ed? What's wrong with him?"

"Lung cancer. I'm afraid it doesn't look good."

"Oh, that's too bad. Ed is such a nice man. Why does this stuff always happen to the good ones?"

"I don't know, Mom. I wish I knew."

"I hope you're not still mad at me because of the other night. You haven't returned any of my phone calls."

"No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just busy, that's all. Work takes a lot out of me."

"I know it does. You've accomplished so much and not under the best circumstances, I might add."

"Well, thank you, Mother. Thank you for noticing."

"I'm so proud of you, and I know your father would be just as proud."

"Thanks. That means a lot."

Whenever my mother said these kinds of things, I always wondered how my father would feel about my life if he were alive today. We had been close. Losing him three months before my eighteenth birthday left a deep scar on my heart. I used to skip school to take care of him while he was sick. We talked a lot during those times. He taught me all the necessities for life, like how to balance a checkbook, how to fix a flat tire, and the importance of an oil change every three months. I loved him for who he was because at the time I felt loved for who I was.

I knew he would be proud that his daughter, who had struggled through high school to get Bs, actually made it through medical school. But I wasn't sure how he'd feel about my lifestyle. Something deep inside told me he wouldn't be so proud of that. That thought always made me sad. It somehow tainted the closeness we'd had when I was growing up.

My mother was the only one in my family who knew I was gay. I wouldn't have told her, except when Sean and I were going through our divorce, he threatened that if I continued with the proceedings, he would "out" me to my family. I pleaded with him not to tell, but he was so adamant about it, I did the only thing I could do: I outed myself. I went to my mother's house, sat her down, and told her the truth. It was one of the roughest nights of my life. My mother and I sat at her kitchen table and cried. I cried for having to tell her something I knew would hurt her. She cried for all the lost dreams she'd had for me. But it never changed the way she felt about me. She still loved me no matter what. I would always love her for that.

Mom and I hung up the phone with plans for me to come to her house for dinner the following Sunday. She was cooking homemade ravioli, my favorite.

"You can even bring that Rosetti girl if you want," Mom said. "I bet she could use a home-cooked meal, too."

It was four o'clock by the time I arrived at Sean's. Ed was still lethargic.

"What meds are you giving him?" I asked, thinking that perhaps the dosage needed an adjustment.

Sean opened the kitchen cabinet to retrieve Ed's medication bottles.

"Just this." Sean handed me the small amber bottle of morphine. It was almost empty.

"How much pain medicine are you giving him?"

"Two droppers full, ten milligrams."

"Two? That's too much. He's only supposed to get one dropper full. You can knock out his breathing drive with that much narcotic."

Sean turned pale. "Oh, my God, Mina...I could have killed him. See, I can't do this, I almost killed him."

"Of course you can. You made a mistake. It's a good thing we caught it now. Don't give him any more until he wakes up a bit. If he's in pain, crush up some Tylenol and mix it with some pudding or applesauce. Sometimes that's just as good as the hard stuff."

I went into the living room to check on Ed. I still couldn't believe that the man lying there was the same man who danced the chicken dance with me at my wedding a few years earlier. Ed was a wonderful man, a respected police officer, and a great father to Sean-and to me for that matter. I slid my hand into his as he slept. His hand was bony and cool. I took his pulse to make sure he was still with us. He was.

My heart felt heavy and I couldn't hold back the tears. What did this kind, gentle man do to deserve this, I thought as I watched his skeletal chest rise and fall. I guess it is true what they say, that only the good die young. Maybe that means there is something better out there. Maybe the afterlife doesn't have any of the pain and disappointment that this life has.

"He seems to be doing okay," I said to Sean as I returned to the kitchen. "Just don't give him any more morphine until tomorrow. He's resting comfortably and his vital signs are stable."

"Thanks for checking him, Meen. Can you stay for dinner? I could throw a couple of steaks on the grill."

"Thanks, but I can't. Rosetti and I made plans for dinner tonight."

"Oh...I thought she was working that drug stakeout...that case over already?"

"Not quite. She's just off tonight. We're really just getting together to have a few drinks and catch up." I wanted to spend time with Rosetti alone, just the two of us. We rarely got to do that anymore because of our work schedules and I missed it a lot.

"Well, maybe some other night then," Sean said.

"I'd like that." I hugged him goodbye.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Rosetti arrived on my doorstep at seven o'clock sharp for our dinner date.

"Boy, you're a sight for sore eyes" I hugged her hello. "You smell good, too. What is that stuff?"

"Nautica."

"Isn't that a men's cologne?

Rosetti nodded.

"Since when did you start wearing men's cologne?"

"Since I figured out women love it...You liked it, see."

I giggled. "Yes, I guess you're right."

The restaurant was crowded as usual. Good thing we had a reservation. Rosetti ordered us two glasses of wine as we waited at the bar while they got our table ready. I hadn't been in this place for a long time. The last time I'd been here was with Sean. We had had a huge fight, which marked the beginning of the end of our marriage.

When our table was ready, Rosetti and I were disappointed when a male maitre d' came to escort us to our seats and not the hot hostess with the Martina Navratilova accent. "Where's Marina?" Rosetti asked as we weaved around linen-covered tables.

"She doesn't work here anymore. Something about her 'being inappropriate' with some of the female customers," the waiter said arrogantly.

Rosetti and I looked at each other, astonished and more than a little let down by the news. We followed the maitre d' into the solarium, the most beautiful part of the restaurant with its lush hydrangea plants, babbling stone water fountains, and large, open skylights. The maitre d' pulled my chair out for me, and I sat down. He didn't, however, pull Rosetti's chair out for her.

"I must really be obvious," Rosetti said, sitting across from me at the small table.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this guy pulls your chair out because you're a woman...obviously a woman. Me, on the other hand...I don't think he's so sure."

"Rosetti, don't be ridiculous."

"You don't think he looks at me and sees dyke?"

"Maybe he was confused by the scent of the men's cologne you're wearing."