by Barbara Ebel
In the storage and work room, she frowned at the newspaper on the counter. She missed chit-chatting about crossword puzzles with Robert. It was the only reason she had started to bring the paper to work – as a way to engage Kevin between his cases. It had at least proved to be useful when their interactions had slowed down.
Looking at the aluminum holder of paper towels which she used as a mirror, she put on a little bit of lipstick. He was due in about ten minutes but, to her surprise, she heard him come into the adjacent room and drop down his duffel bag.
“Good morning, Rachel.” Kevin stood in the doorway, his arms bridging the door frame. “How would your heart and your mind like to accompany me this evening?”
He had tufts of pitch black hair poking out of the head bonnet and wore a sheepish grin; Rachel looked at him as if she was puzzled.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s an expression. My mom was American Indian and she always asked me to do things with my heart and my mind. My dad, on the other hand, was Irish so he’d ask me to do things for the love of the Irish.” He smiled just thinking about them.
“No wonder you’re unique,” she said. “What an interesting combination.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, I thought since you are so knowledgeable about artwork, you’d like to go to a big art event tonight. It’s short notice but I only found out about it last night. It starts at six.”
“I would love to.”
“Good. I’ll fill you in after the first case.”
She hoped so … and now her initial worries about seeing him again outside of the OR were over.
-----
At the front entrance of the foundation’s museum, Danny signed the ledger. A well-dressed woman pointed to white sticky labels.
“You can wear a name tag if you’d like,” she said. “It makes the event more personable.”
He printed his name, stuck the tag on his jacket, and went in search of Mary, Sara and Casey. Almost twenty regional artists were competing and, due to so many qualified submissions, each of the ten rooms was shared by two artists’ work. Danny found the room with Mary’s name on the outside before stopping in the main room for wine or food.
With outstretched arms, Mary walked over; toeing in her one foot, she gave Danny a big hug.
“Whoa,” Danny said. “You and those babies are getting big. Soon we’ll be blowing kisses to you over your belly.”
“Yes. They’re growing like weeds.” She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the rest of the family.
Danny gave Sara a kiss. “You must have gotten home and changed into something sexier,” he said. She wore a white scarf over a long golden brown dress. Even her nails were polished which made Danny realize she’d gone the extra mile to look special.
“Tonight means a lot to Mary,” she said. “And look what’s on the wall to the right. It’s Julia and Dakota’s picture.”
“I see that. It stands out and there is a bounty of good work here.”
Casey and Mary stood closer. “I’ve been watching a person over there in the corner,” Casey said. “By his name tag, he’s a judge. He sure is spending a lot of time in here.”
Mary waved his comment off. “There’s another artist in here, too,” she said.
“Since I see how spectacular this painting is in the correct light and frame,” Casey said, pointing to Julia and Dakota’s work, “I am wondering if you couldn’t do a special request for your husband.”
Mary stepped in front of him. “Tell me,” she said.
“If I gave you a picture of Tommy and me when we were little, could you paint something like it?”
Sara squeezed Danny’s hand and he pressed her hand back
“I would love to,” Mary responded. “Maybe someday I’ll get to it.”
“That’s a great idea,” Danny said. “We’ll be back in a bit. Sara and I are going to look around.” When they were far enough away, Danny commented, “Casey thinks about his younger brother more than I thought.”
Chapter 25
Rachel signed in for the art event and stood off to the side waiting for Kevin. He had requested to meet her there since, more than likely, he’d be coming straight from the hospital. She realized it wouldn’t be wise to date a resident or a doc doing a fellowship. Besides the fact that they weren’t earning the big bucks yet and were probably in severe financial debt, their hours were unpredictable. Of course, Kevin would soon be on his own.
She tapped her foot as she waited. This time she wore black dress pants and a Japanese-styled silk blouse. Its crisp collar was open and a round gold enameled flower on a gold chain rested in the depression of her neck. Adjusting the dressy handbag she had on her shoulder, she smiled to see Kevin walk in and spot her.
He slapped his name tag on while walking towards her. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” he said.
“Not at all. I just arrived. How did all your surgical patients do today when you saw them later for postop rounds?”
“All of them are peeing like race horses and no one is complaining of too much pain.” His eyes darted to her blouse and her neck and then settled on her face. “You look very nice.”
“Thank you.”
He realized what an exceptional voice she had; smooth and seductive. He remembered thinking that only one other time about a woman and it was while watching an old movie with Marilyn Monroe.
Rachel had rested her hand on his upper arm. “Shall we?” she asked, trying to coax him to walk.
“Of course,” he said. “How about we check out the artwork and then come back for wine and some of that delicious-looking cheese?” Between groups of people, they could see a huge center table decked out with all sorts of appetizers.
They entered a spacious room with a buffed hardwood floor. Gazing at an oversized painting flanking most of a wall, Rachel was at a loss to comment on it or the artist. After work, the little time she had available was used to find out about the host organization.
“Hmm,” Kevin hummed. “What do you think?”
“As my mama used to say, ‘If you don’t have something nice to say about something, don’t say anything at all.’ However, the Nashville Art Foundation is to be commended. It’s funded by The Carlin Family Charity, The Humanities Forum and The Nashville City Community Institute.” She turned from the painting and looked directly at him. “They financially help these aspiring artists. Many of the exhibitors here acquired the skills and knowledge they needed to prepare for a career in the visual arts only because of the NAF. They have to develop self-awareness, too, to make a canvas come alive.”
“It didn’t help this artist too much.” He chuckled and she nodded in agreement as they walked to the other side of the room.
After viewing the next room’s paintings, Rachel and Kevin passed the name tags of the artists on the wall for the next exhibit. On one of them was written ‘Mary Tilson.’ Could it be Danny Tilson’s sister?
Her open-backed heels clicked across the floor. She wasn’t interested in the other artist as she spotted a work which caught her by surprise and in awe. Kevin lingered close to her.
Her mouth gaped open and her eyes softened. It was what she thought it was from across the room. Julia, her darling Julia. And Dakota, too. Shouldn’t she receive royalties or something for her daughter being used in a portrait?
“I’m no aficionado of art,” Kevin said next to her, “but that is amazing.”
Rachel broke out of her trance as she realized he still didn’t know about her daughter. Mothers with children could be game changers, she thought, when it comes to single guys so she knew she had to tread carefully. Although she’d been lucky in that department with men before, she had not had the opportunity yet to mention Julia to Kevin.
“Yes,” she said. “This artist was able to engage the child and the dog together as well as pull in the viewer. It’s beautiful.” She fidgeted her foot, unsure of what to do.
Kevin looked closer at the painting, noti
ng the name of the signature. “I wonder if the artist made this up or modeled it after subjects she knew.”
“I have a young daughter,” Rachel said. “Come to think of it, this painting looks just like her as well as a dog I used to have.”
“Really?”
She didn’t know what to say. Did he mean did she really have a daughter or did the painting really look like her daughter?
“What a surprise.” A familiar voice sounded behind her and Rachel swung around to find herself face-to-face with Casey. A woman stood next to him.
Casey immediately extended his hand to Kevin and told him his name. Kevin did likewise and then said, “Do you all know each other from the medical field? I’m a surgeon at Rachel’s hospital.”
“I’m a paramedic,” Casey said. “It’s a good thing I’m not a surgeon because my career may have been cut short due to a hand injury this year.” He stared at Rachel when he finished speaking and raised his hand in front, displaying his missing fingertip.
“I take it this is the artist,” Rachel said, interjecting quickly.
“Yes,” Mary said. “We’ve never met,” she continued, her voice flat and cold. “But I’ve heard a lot about you over the years.”
Rachel gulped and her pulse quickened. “You are a gifted artist,” she said, thinking that she had to catch every verbal curveball they threw and hit it like a fly ball into oblivion.
“Nice of you to say so. What do you think of Julia? You must be overjoyed to see your own daughter in a piece of art.”
Kevin Mcbride hung on every word as the conversation had gotten more bizarre by the minute. Since he’d met Rachel, she seemed to know a lot about art. And was she so involved in humanities that Mary had heard all about her and had painted her daughter? That was odd, too, that she hadn’t mentioned having a child.
Rachel placed her hand on Kevin’s arm and turned to face him. “I don’t want to be impolite while you’re hearing this conversation,” she said. “But this is a surprise to me that Julia is so beautifully portrayed in this hanging masterpiece.”
“And, of course, you know Dakota, too,” Mary said.
“Yes, I do. You have captured the bond between a child and a dog,” she said. “This painting is like a testimony to the saying that a dog is man’s best friend. And in this case, a little girl’s.”
“So Kevin,” Casey said, “have you met Rachel’s daughter?”
“No. I didn’t know she had one. But we only work together and have only socially met outside the hospital once or twice. But I hope there will be more things to do together.”
“Oh, I’m sure there will be.” Casey bit his tongue, stopping himself from adding ‘if she has anything to do with it.’ “Actually, do you know Dr. Danny Tilson?”
“Oww.” Rachel took her hand off of Kevin and held her side under her ribs. “Ouch.” She leaned forward. “I have a pain … a gnawing in my abdomen. It’s probably best if I go out front and get something to eat.”
Kevin draped his arm around her back and crouched near her ear. “Are you okay? Would you like to sit down instead?”
“No. Let me get a small plate and, if that doesn’t work, then I better go home.”
“That would be a shame,” Casey said. “Danny would be sorry to miss you.”
“Bye, both of you,” Rachel said. “And Mary, it’s very nice you dreamed up that portrait of my little girl.” She slid her hand into Kevin’s and edged him away. After slipping through a group of people, she sighed. Maybe now she was rid of them.
“Rachel?” Danny had a glass of wine in his hands as he almost brushed past her. They were so close, he could discern her faint fragrance which was similar to sniffing a bottle of pure vanilla; it brought back memories of being intimate with her and he shuddered.
Rachel glared at him. “Yes, it’s me. I can’t stop because I feel famished and must get something to eat.”
He felt slightly relieved they didn’t have to talk. Sara was following him with her own drink and it always unnerved him when she had to tolerate Rachel’s presence.
“Excuse me. You’re Dr. Tilson, aren’t you?” Kevin asked. “I remember you from a grand rounds you gave a few years ago.”
Danny shook his hand. “That’s me. I hope my talk left a good impression.”
“I’m Dr. Mcbride. It did. I’ve also read about you since then.”
“You can’t believe everything you read,” Danny said. “Please, meet my ex-wife, Sara.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “And Rachel, good to see you with a free Friday evening like Danny. Julia is in good hands tonight with one of our daughters; she was quite delighted this afternoon when I gave her a new pair of sneakers.”
“Fantastic,” Rachel said. “She is fond of sneakers. I hope you didn’t throw out the blue ones I gave her.”
“No,” Danny said. “We always send back to you the things she comes with.”
Kevin’s eyes squinted which made the wrinkle lines on his temple get deeper. The exhibit had turned into some weird exposé of the woman with him and who he’d been working with. He wondered if she was as complex as the art topics she had enlightened him about.
Rachel squirmed, anxious to get away. This town had gotten too small for her to socialize with anonymity from the Tilson family. She disappeared through the crowd without pulling at Kevin’s sleeve. Luckily, she sensed, he flanked her heels like a puppy dog behind its mother.
But in any case, it was time to call her attorney.
-----
“Come on,” Annabel said to David, “You have another week of monitoring behind you and it’s time to get out with people your own age and enjoy the weather.”
Putting her hands on her hips, she took two more steps into his loft. “Exams are over except for wrapping up lab stuff and there are two college bands giving a concert on the lawn tonight. I came over specifically to get you.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, stretched out on his bed with an iPad in his hands. “It’s too much trouble to go back and forth to escort me somewhere.”
“Your parents even agreed you should get out. I didn’t make the trip for nothing, so let’s go.” She walked over and grabbed his hand, coaxing him to get up.
“It’s a little cool so wear something warmer,” she said. “I have a blanket and we can spread it out on the lawn. And I know your friends would like to see you.”
He slid off his T-shirt, rummaged through one of the antique chests, and pulled out a long-sleeved athletic shirt. She could see that he had lost a bit of his toned musculature as he slipped into it. She grabbed his hand again. “You look great,” she said with a smile and led him out the door.
-----
A view of the sun poked between the university lecture halls as it sunk towards the horizon. The verdant campus was alive after two heavy weeks of students being barricaded in dorms and study halls for final exams and a portable stage had been built in front of the massive-columned library where graduation ceremonies were usually held. Young adults threw Frisbees, passed snacks, and played music while a four-member band tuned their instruments.
Annabel carried a rolled-up picnic blanket under her arm as they strolled toward the back corner of the lawn. She stopped and scanned the area. “Some of our friends and your basketball team said they’d be over here,” she said. Someone waved and they approached a group they recognized.
“Hey, look who’s here,” Annabel said while spreading the blanket.
“Yo, David. We’re glad to see you. It’s been a while,” said a young man. He sat on a plastic storage container holding a can in a bag. “How about a beer?”
“No, I better not,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”
“You missed the hardest damn physics final exam,” the woman next to him said. “Maybe next fall when you come back, it won’t be so difficult.”
David grinned. He didn’t even know if he’d be back in the fall; his life was too unpredictable. “I’m sure you all handled it ok
ay.”
Annabel patted her hand on the turquoise fabric. She sat crossed-legged and pulled the sweatshirt she’d worn down over her waist. When David lowered himself, he sat close and flexed his legs the same way. As the evening darkness closed in, a light breeze started and the lights came on; they left a subtle light yellow glow, especially over the areas closest to the roads.
“I’m lucky if I got a B-minus,” the teen said, “but I bet Annabel ends up with an A.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Annabel said. “In any case, I wouldn’t be working so hard if I didn’t want to get into med school.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I refuse to go that route. You’re going to spend the rest of your life more buried in books than anything else. My doctor cousin says there are now mandatory exams every few years after you even pass your board exam. It goes on forever.” She sipped from a coke can and pushed a bag of tortilla chips toward them.
“Thanks,” Annabel said. “Well, there are probably a lot of professions like that. You can’t just learn your trade and never expect to keep up with new information.”
The girl shook her head. “Better you than me, that’s all I’m saying.”
The fellow next to her gave her a push. “Let’s forget about school right now.”
Planting a swat on David’s shoulder, two tall male students came from behind and sat on their blanket. “Hey, David. Whenever you’re able to, come play basketball with us over the summer. Most of us will be working, but we’ll be calling each other when we throw something together.”
“I’ll let you know,” David said.
The band had finished with its short practice session and began a mediocre rendition of a recent pop song. David glanced at Annabel as she wrapped one hand inside the other and bobbed her head to the lyrics. Although he enjoyed being outside and hearing the band, an uneasiness settled in on his bones. Like a child who had sat down in the wrong classroom, he felt uncomfortable; like he didn’t know these people anymore and their worlds were not the same.
