Let Your Heart Be Light

Chapter 2

"Dr. Hawkeye, am I gonna be alright?" Little Asa Pruitt turned the full force of his innocent hazel eyes onto Hawkeye Pierce, who held the six-year-old's arm in his hand. Hawkeye couldn't help but grin. Asa's family had been the first to choose his new private practice, and he'd been entranced from the moment the boy had skipped into the office over a year ago. He finished rubbing some cream into the boy's smooth, coffee-colored skin and removed his gloves, tossing them into the trash.

"You're going to be just fine. It's just a bit of poison ivy."

Asa giggled. "Mommy says I got it 'cause I didn't listen and ran through the weeds."

"Your Mommy is a very smart woman." Hawkeye winked at Mrs. Pruitt, who smiled back. "Asa, why don't you go out to the lobby and see Nurse Jane? I think she just refilled the candy jar…" he trailed off as the little boy's excited squeal drowned him out. The child hopped off the examination table and tore out of the room. Hawkeye chuckled at his boundless energy.

"How's he doing, Dr. Pierce?" Mrs. Pruitt asked when Asa was out of earshot.

Hawkeye scribbled notes down onto his clipboard. "The rash should fade in a couple of days. All in all, he looks fit as a fiddle."

"You know as well as I do that he isn't." Her tone became gentle and hushed like she was disclosing a secret. Hawkeye stopped writing and nodded.

"How are his pain levels?"

"He still has bad spells every now and then. Sometimes he'll wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying."

Hawkeye winced as sympathy stabbed into his heart. "I wish there was something I could do for him." Asa's mother smiled sadly, seeing the raw, burning flame in the doctor's eyes. She knew next to nothing about Dr. Pierce's past with the Korean war, but she would bet anything that the lurking rage in his irises had not been there before he'd been drafted. She rose from her chair and put a hand on his shoulder.

"From the moment we were told Asa had sickle cell anemia, we knew there was nothing to do but pray, Dr. Pierce. Have good day."

"If he gets worse, let me know immediately, even if it's the dead of night. You have my home number."

Asa's mother smiled again, the lips containing a genuine happiness that Hawkeye could not understand. "Thank you."

Hawkeye remained in his chair, thinking long after the Pruitts were gone. Mrs. Pruitt troubled him every time she came in with Asa. Despite the fact that her son would probably die before she would, she had this…glow about her. A little flame of happiness that no wind in Crabapple Cove could blow out. And, damn it, he couldn't understand how she did it. Here he was, thriving private practice with an expensive car and a healthy father who had already gotten all he wanted out of life when his son came home from the war. Here he was, making his dream of getting Crabapple Cove to say "ah!" come true. He had not one ounce of debt to his name and was the most recommended doctor within the entire state and then some. He had every right to happiness.

So why don't I have it?

The question gnawed at him day after day, chewing his patience to a frayed ribbon. It hadn't always felt like this. When Hawkeye first returned to Maine, he was the happiest he'd ever been in his life. But, as time went by, the change came gradually. He didn't know what it was—or maybe he did, he was just refusing to acknowledge it. Whatever the case, he found the only bright spots in his life to be card games with his father and the monthly phone calls with B.J. He still gave his patients one hundred percent of his attention, but they no longer gave him the happiness he craved, and that terrified him. He was terrified that Korea had ruined the one thing he loved most: medicine.

Hell, the war had spoiled everything else for him.

Hawkeye sighed and combed his fingers through his hair, which was getting long again. He felt like a slow kid on the playground who couldn't keep up with everyone else, like he was being left behind. He was sure that the war was long past plaguing those who he had spent it with. B.J. was always his light and chipper self, but it was different. There was no edge of darkness, no hidden depression that had been under his skin in Korea. Charles seemed to be the only one transformed for the better. He had lost his ostentatious, blue-blooded approach to most matters and replaced it with the calm level-headedness of a kind man.

"Hawkeye?"

The quiet voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Hawkeye's head nurse—the best of the three at his practice—smiled in apology for startling him. Jane Able was a sweet young woman who could turn even her smallest sentence into a mile-long babble of extra information and had a heart of gold that loved even strangers. He flipped on the charm and sent her a grin, hoping to give the illusion of happiness. "What can I do for you, Jane?"

"I need to speak with you about something." She looked uneasy.

"You're declaring your undying love for me. Can't say I didn't see it coming, what with all the doe-eyed stares over patients in the exam room…"

"Hawkeye!" Jane scolded, laughing. Hawkeye's grin widened; he may not be happy, but at least he could make others happier. Jane's nervousness seemed to dissolve with his joke.

"No, no, I'm kidding. Alright, what did you need to talk to me about?"

"I…I, uh, I'm leaving." At his confused stare, she quickly elaborated. "Not just to go home. I mean, I'm leaving for home, too, obviously, but I also mean I'm leaving your practice."

Hawkeye was stunned. "What? Why? Did something happen?"

"No, nothing bad or anything of the sort. I'm moving to Texas to be with my fiancé. He is starting his own private practice with a few other doctors in Dallas and I'm going to be their head nurse."

"Hey, that's terrific! I hear there's some really groundbreaking stuff happening in Dallas. New treatments, things like that." Hawkeye was genuinely glad for her. He'd always seen Jane as the little sister he'd never had, with her awkward, endearing ways and shy acceptance of compliments. "We'll miss you here, though. When are you leaving?"

"May 15th, just as summer starts." Hawkeye sucked in a breath. May 15th was a mere three weeks away. Where was he going to find a replacement head nurse in such a short space of time? Jane grimaced, immediately contrite. "I know it's short notice, and I'm really sorry. I tried looking for someone to potentially take my position, but no one has any feelers out right now."

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about it, Jane. I'll manage. I'm really happy for you."

She grinned. "Thank you, Hawkeye." They said goodnight and Hawkeye turned to pick his clipboard up from the exam table, glancing back over the notes he'd written.

Jane suddenly poked her head back into the room. "Oh, Hawkeye?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have a friend named B.J. Hunnicutt?"

"Yes."

Like a squirrel that has seen a nut, Jane became distracted. "What's B.J. stand for?"

Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "He says his name is just B.J., but I don't believe that," he grumbled, recalling the entire week in Korea he'd spent telegramming people who'd been in contact with B.J. to ask them what the letters stood for.

"Who would name their kid B.J.?" she wondered. Hawkeye just shrugged helplessly, waiting for her to get back on track. "Anyways, he called for you today while you were busy. I told him you'd call him back as soon as you got the time."

"Thank you. Have a good night."

"Dad?"

Hawkeye's ears perked up, straining to make anything out in the silence of the house. The house was dark aside from the kitchen light that had been left on.

"Must be asleep," he muttered to himself, tossing his keys onto the counter and opening the refrigerator to get a bottle of soda. The phone was already in his hand and ringing by the time he sank into his favorite kitchen chair.

Noise came to life on the other end of the line. "Erin, no, put that—hello?"

"Beej!" Hawkeye felt better upon hearing his best friend's voice.

"Hey, Hawk! How was work? Your nurse said you were busy."

"Busy, but good," he managed to get out through a yawn. "I actually need to shower and go to bed, Beej. Just called to see what you needed."

"Oh, right!" B.J. felt suppressed nervousness expand in his chest. It had been almost two weeks since he'd talked to Charles about the reunion. Potter and Radar had practically yelled for joy when B.J. told them about the reunion, and both agreed to be there in rain or shine. He half expected Hawkeye to completely reject the idea. "Well, Hawk, we're planning a reunion."

A few moments of stunned silence followed. Hawkeye swallowed hard, the lump in his throat not budging an inch. He coughed. "Who is 'we?'"

"Charles and I."

At that, Hawkeye smirked in disbelief. "Charles is helping you plan a reunion? At which he would have to lay eyes on the both of us again?"

B.J. chuckled. He could hear the incredulous grin in Hawkeye's voice. "Would you believe me if I told you the whole thing was his idea?"

"Ha! This is incredible!" Hawkeye pushed his hair off his forehead. No one was more surprised than he was that he was actually getting excited about a reunion. He had always thought that the subject of reunions was something just thrown around in Korea to keep up appearances. Truth be told, he had not even expected to see B.J. ever again. He tossed the idea around in his mind for a few more moments before another question stopped his musings in their tracks. "Who's going to be there?"

B.J. took a hesitant breath and tried to be nonchalant. "Right now, just Potter, Radar, Charles, and I. If everyone accepts, the whole gang will be there: Potter, Radar, Charles, Father Mulcahy, Klinger, Margaret, you, and me. Family members allowed, of course."

Hawkeye had stopped listening after he'd heard Margaret's name. In Maine, it was easy to insulate himself against the memories. No one besides his father even knew about her, and he didn't bring her up. But hearing B.J. say her name had brought his unconscious dam crashing down, allowing waves of memories kept at bay to flood his mind.

He didn't know how long he was paralyzed in reverie. "Hawk?" B.J. said for the third time.

"I'll come." The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to think about an answer.

"…You will?"

"Yeah, Beej. I'll be there. Just tell me when and where."

"A reunion?"

Margaret stopped dead, letting the box she'd been carrying fall to the floor with a smack. Charles hissed and rushed forward to pick it back up. "There are breakables in there, Margaret, you know that! And yes, is the idea of a reunion so shocking to you?"

"Well…yes." Margaret rubbed the back of her neck as Charles checked for broken bottles. "Everybody only promised to organize reunions back in Korea because they couldn't admit to themselves that they'd most likely never see each other again."

Charles raised his brows. "Yet, here we are. Father Mulcahy and Klinger have already confirmed that they will be there."

Instead of the hollow ache that Margaret usually felt, sparks of excitement were beginning to fly. She was surprised at just how much she longed to go to this reunion, to see everyone again. But there was one thing that stuck out in her mind.

There would be no reunion without the presence of Hawkeye Pierce. It was a given that he'd be invited.

The sparks and the ache combined at the thought of meeting him again, creating a force that tingled under her skin. However bad or awkward it could turn out to be, she had to see him another time. She didn't even care if they ended up not speaking or somehow arguing. Margaret had to see Hawkeye. The worst thing was that—now that she knew seeing him again was possible—there was nothing that was going to get in her way.

"I'd love to go."

This time, it was Charles who nearly dropped the box. He had expected a fight from her, which would have culminated in either her reluctantly accepting or him threatening to use physical force to make her accept the invitation. "Really?"

She shrugged, trying to hide the boiling emotions causing her hands to shake a little. "Yeah. It sounds like it could be fun."

Charles was speechless as she took the box back from him and disappeared into another inventory aisle. He turned to leave and, just as he was about to close the door behind him, he faintly heard her humming.

B.J. clambered through the front door after a long day at work, tossing his lab coat and briefcase onto the sofa and dashing into the kitchen. He dialed Charles' number as quickly as he could.

"Hello?"

"Charles!" he shouted. He was about to burst from holding in the reunion news all day.

Charles sat up so fast that the book he'd been reading toppled to the floor. "Hunnicutt, I have wonderful news!"

"Me, too!"

Then, both men proceeded to shout simultaneously.

"Hawkeye said yes!"

"Margaret said yes!"