Flashback (1988) Read Free

seemed to be giving him a message—that the world, his life, were right where they should be.
    The demands of surgical training had exacted a toll on every aspect of his existence. But of all those compromises and sacrifices, the unavoidable cutback in his climbing was the one he had accepted the most reluctantly. Now, at almost thirty-six, he was anxious to make up for lost time.
    Thin Air … Turnabout and Fair Play … The Widow-Maker … Carson’s Cliff … Each climb would be like rediscovering a long-lost friend.
    Zack closed his eyes and breathed in the mountain air. For months he had wrestled with the choice of a career in academic medicine or one in private, small-town practice. Of all the decisions he had ever made—choosing a college, medical school, a specialty, a training program—this was the one that had proved the most trying.
    And even after he had made it—after he had weighed all the pros and cons, gotten Connies agreement, and opted to returnto Sterling—his tenuous decision was challenged. The ink was barely dry on his contract with Ultramed Hospitals Corporation when Connie announced that she had been having serious second thoughts about relocating from the Back Bay to northern New Hampshire, and in fact, that she was developing a similar case of cold feet over being engaged to the sort of man who would even consider such a move.
    Not two weeks later, the ring had arrived at his apartment in its original box, strapped to a bottle of Cold Duck.
    Zack sighed and combed his dark brown hair back with his fingers. They were striking, expressive fingers—sinewy, and so long, even for the hands of a six-footer, that he had taken to sending to a medical supply house in Milwaukee for specially made gloves. Early on, those fingers had set him apart in the operating room, and even before that, on the rock fece.
    He gazed to the northwest and swore he had caught a glimpse of Mirror, an almost sheer granite face so studded with mica that summer sun exploded off it like a star going nova.
    Lion Head … Tuckerman Ravine … Wall of Tears …
    There was so much magic in the mountains, so much to look forward to. True, life in Sterling might prove less stimulating than in the city. But there would be peace and, as long as he could climb, more than enough excitement as well.
    And, of course, there would be the practice itself—the challenges of being the first neurosurgeon ever in the area.
    In less than twenty-four hours, he would be in his own office in the ultramodern Ultramed Physicians and Surgeons clinic, adjacent to the rejuvenated Ultramed-Davis Regional Hospital.
    After three decades of preparation and sacrifice, he was finally set to get on with the business of his life—to show his world, and himself, exactly what he could do. The prospect blew gently across what apprehensions he had, scattering them like dry leaves.
    Connie or no Connie, everything was going to work out fine.
    Homemade bread and vegetable soup; goose paté on tiny sesame wafers; Waterford crystal wineglasses and goblets; rack of lamb with mint jelly; Royal Doulton china; sweet potatoes and rice pilaf; fresh green beans with shaved almonds; fine Irish linen.
    The meal was vintage Cinnie Iverson. Zack was aware of afamiliar mixture of awe and discomfort as he watched his mother, wearing an apron she had embroidered herself, flutter between kitchen and dining room, setting one course after another on the huge cherrywood table, clearing dishes away, pausing to slip in and out of conversations, even pouring water; and all the while, skillfully and steadfastly refusing offers of assistance from Lisette and himself.
    The table was set for eight, although Cinnie was seldom at her seat. The Judge held sway from his immutable place at the head. His heavy, high-backed chair was not at all unlike the one behind the bench in his county courtroom. Zack had been assigned the place of honor, at the far end of the table, facing his