by Tea DeLuca
“I don’t want to sit, and I won’t be staying that long.”
“Sit down.” His tone left no room for argument, and she slipped into a chair. “Now, can I get you coffee?”
“Shove the coffee and answer my question.”
“What question?”
She gripped the arms of the chair and clenched her teeth. “Are you suing me?”
“The letter is a warning. If we don’t reach an understanding, yes, I will take you to court.”
“You’re an ass. There is no court in the world that would honor that stupid agreement.”
“That’s not true, honey. While it might seem trivial, a custody agreement over a dog, the courts would have to uphold a well-defined signed contract.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled smugly.
“What do you mean well-defined?” she asked suspiciously. She wanted to slap that smirk right off his handsome face.
“That was a very carefully written document, Magnolia. I suggest you read things over more carefully in the future before you sign anything. Maybe let a lawyer look at it.” The smile widened and lit up his entire face.
“First, stop calling me Magnolia. You know I hate it. Second, what exactly did I miss in this document?”
“I have it right here but let me get us some coffee.” He deliberately left the contract on the desk as he went into the hall for the coffee. She was intensely reading as he set her cup in front of her.
“Basically, you can see Rufus whenever you want.”
He was overwhelmed with a memory. He could feel her heat. Her heart racing as he bested her in an argument till they solved all their problems the same way. He blinked back the unexpected wave of emotion and cleared his throat. “Correct. Three times this week I’ve asked to come over, and you’ve said no. That puts you in violation of the contract.”
“Then you’ll have to see her when I’m not home.”
“Section 1, paragraph 3.”
She read silently then shifted in her seat. “I have to be there.”
“Yes, while I don’t want to make modifications to the contract, I can be flexible. I don’t want to make this difficult for you, Mags.”
“I was busy this week.”
“With Craig?”
“Yes and no.”
“Mags.” He leaned across the desk. “You’ve been avoiding me since we talked in your bathroom.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she tossed the document back. “Short of suing me, how do I get out of this ridiculous contract?”
“Section 2, paragraph 1.”
“Just tell me and stop being a dick.” She was obviously frustrated, and though calmer, he still needed to keep the desk between them so she didn’t kill him.
He sipped his coffee, and his heart softened. He wasn’t being a dick; he was holding onto her the only way he could. “In the event you break the contract as you did this week, I’m entitled to damages.”
“What kind of damages?”
“A lump sum, $50,000.”
She just stared at him. “To think I encouraged you to become a lawyer. One of us is crazy.”
“I am perfectly willing to accept a small goodwill payment and start over.”
“Small payment? Dollars and cents?”
“I don’t want your money, Mags,” he said patiently.
“What do you want?”
He pulled her up by her elbow and drew her in close. “Just a good faith kiss, and we’ll take Rufus out tonight.” Holding her body close, the vision in the bathroom came back to haunt him.
She nodded, and he leaned in. At the last minute, though she turned her head, and he kissed her cheek, but he didn’t let her go. “You got your kiss. Now, let go of me.”
“I have never kissed you like that, honey, and I’m not starting now.” His lips found hers, demanding all of her, putting her senses on overload, sucking the air she breathed, and tugging so insistently at her heart. He slid down her throat, sucking softly till her hands gripped his shoulders, and her body pressed harder against him. She pulled away; her head against his shoulder near tears.
“So, you’re not suing me.” She tried to ignore the rush of emotions and heat.
“Not this time. Tonight?”
“I can’t.”
“Mags, I thought you understood…”
“No really,” she added quickly. “I have a doctor’s appointment then I’m driving out to see my folks. I guess my dad isn’t doing so well. Tomorrow is fine. Are you free tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow is good. I was thinking of stopping by to see your dad. He won’t pull out his shotgun, will he?”
Mags shook her head as he threaded their fingers together. “He always loved you, but I’m not sure what’s going on. Wait till after I see him.”
“Call me if you need me.” Mags was close to her dad. If the dementia was stealing him from her, she might need a shoulder.
“Thanks.” She stopped at the door as he called her name, a hint of a warm smile. He tossed her the romance novel she caught against her chest. “The one I was reading in the bookstore? You bought it for me?”
“Not a big deal. I knew you wanted it.”
“Did you read it?” she teased.
“Right, I think you know me better than that, honey.”
She closed the door behind her, and he turned to the skyline from the window. Damn woman. The door opened again. He expected Trisha, but a determined Mags marched up to him and took him by surprise. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him like it was yesterday, five-years yesterday. She demanded then took then lingered till he thought he’d lose his mind. She didn’t say a word as she drew away and tapped her book gently against his chest. His hands tried to hold to her waist, but she slipped away and smiled from the door. “You lied, Mark. You read it.” Then she left.
Chapter 30
She was early for her appointment so she took the stairs. Beige, not a warm deep beige but a doctor’s office beige with green trim, an ugly doctor’s office green paint that looked sterile and unappealing. She had memorized the paintings of elaborate flowers and the warning signs. Get a flu shot, schedule a mammogram, and use sun screen. Dr. Stratton’s office was no different from the hospital testing area or the medical offices next door, except you weren’t likely to forget her specialty was cancer. Mags dreaded this appointment. She hadn’t taken the tests she ordered last month. She had actually cancelled them twice, and the doctor wouldn’t be surprised or pleased.
“Looks like you gained a couple more pounds, and vitals are good.” She stared directly and sharply at her patient. “Why don’t I have test results in this folder for you?”
“I guess I haven’t taken the new ones.”
“Magnolia, you are a test,” she said briskly. “I’ve had to push you like a child through this whole ordeal. I’m sorry, but you’re an adult woman. You know how important this is.”
“I know, but…”
Melissa waited. She liked her patient and was usually gentle, but Magnolia was making her angry. “But what?”
“Not an excuse I know, but I’ve been busy. My life is kind of disorganized at the moment. Kind of messy.”
“So, what has to give is your health? That will not do, young lady. I’m scheduling these again for tomorrow after work. No excuses. I want the results before I leave on my vacation.”
Mags jumped at the chance to change the subject. “Where are you going?”
“Somewhere beautiful and romantic,” she beamed, color flooding her cheeks. “Destination wedding in Italy.”
“Italy.” The memories came rushing back. “It’s on my bucket list. I want to see it someday. Going with someone?”
“That’s the best part. The guy I was with when I saw you in the club, the new guy, isn’t new anymore. We’ve grown close. There’s sparks and love, and I think, hope, I’ll be wearing a ring when we return.”
Mags smiled at her genuine happiness. “I guess there couldn�
�t be a more romantic place to pop the question. Think of the stories and memories you’ll make.”
“You could probably keep me talking about my handsome guy all day, but I haven’t forgotten the tests, Magnolia, so, let me leave for my trip with peace of mind where you’re concerned.”
“Okay, I’ll get them done.” It wasn’t till she reached street level that she realized she wouldn’t be home for Mark tomorrow. She knew he would understand if she told him about the tests, but the cancer wouldn’t run her life. She’d call and reschedule when she reached her parents’ home. A few days couldn’t matter much, and the ecstatic doctor might not notice.
She stopped briefly at home to change and check on the dog then drove out to the house where her parents had lived the last twenty years. They had talked about moving maybe to Florida, but now that her dad had memory issues, the doctors advised keeping him in familiar surroundings. Craig had sent two texts during the day but was busy with Ryan’s baseball game tonight. Maybe she’d drive over and watch a couple of innings later if she didn’t stay too long.
Her mother met her at the door. “How was your doctor’s appointment?” she asked anxiously.
“I’m good. Everything is normal. How is Dad?”
Her mother sighed and poured three glasses of lemonade. “You may not notice anything. He forgets things, mostly words when he’s trying to explain something, or he’ll set something down and two minutes later he can’t remember where he laid it.”
“Those aren’t horrible things, Mom. They can be managed.”
“He’s in the early stages of dementia. Sometimes he gets confused, and it’s hard for him to follow more than one direction. He’s on a good medication that isn’t a cure, but it seems to slow down the progression of the disease. I don’t know what I’ll do when he doesn’t know me or recognize our life.”
“Try not to worry.” She hugged her mother and reached for a tissue. “He’s got a lot of good years left. From what I’ve read, the disease progresses slowly.”
“Try not to upset him, Maggie. It’s not his fault…”
“I know. I’ll take him his lemonade.” She took a deep breath before walking into the yard. Her father was a terrific gardener. He didn’t mind the hot Charleston sun when he dug in his gardens, caring for his vegetables and flowers, but they were quickly getting beyond his control. The beds needed weeding, and some plants were dying in the pots, waiting to be planted.
“Maggie, my girl. Good to see you, honey.”
She couldn’t imagine a time when her father would forget her. “Hi, Dad, need some help?”
“No, no, honey. Just deciding what I want to tackle first. How’s Mark?”
“Mark?” she repeated slowly. “I guess he’s fine.”
“You tell my son-in-law we haven’t been fishing in a long time.”
“Mark is really busy, but he said he wanted to stop by for a visit.”
“Good. I’m planting these azaleas here for your mother. She likes fresh flowers for the kitchen table.”
“That will be pretty, Dad.”
She watched him carefully kneel beside the flower beds. He wasn’t as agile as he used to be, but it was hard to separate the symptoms of dementia and the normal signs of aging. He had always loved Mark so it didn’t really surprise her that his mind had kept him in the family. Neither of her parents had said much after the breakup. They understood Mark was hurt, and the wedding had been a terrible mistake, but they hugged her through those first few weeks. They were as sure as she was that he’d come back to her.
“Do you want something to eat, honey?” her mother asked. “We’ve eaten, but there are leftovers.”
“No, thanks. I need to get home to Rufus.”
“Who’s Rufus?” her dad asked.
“My dog, Dad. The black and white husky?” He nodded, but her mother shook her head. He’d have to see the dog to know what she meant.
“Are you seeing Craig?” her mother asked as she walked her to her car.
“He’s a nice guy. I like him, but it’s too soon to say if we can be a couple, have a real relationship.”
“Don’t worry. I have a good feeling about you and Craig.”
She leaned back against her car. “I’m not sure he’s over his wife.”
“And you’re not over Mark. Maybe you can help each other. Bring Craig to Sunday lunch after church.”
“I’ll ask him.”
As she drove back, she thought her mother was right. Maybe they could help each other. This concern of Mark’s, the attraction probably wouldn’t amount to anything. He was seeing someone, and Mark wasn’t the kind of guy to lead a girl on.
Maybe she should give up on men and focus on her pet. Rufus was always glad to see her. It brightened her day. Maybe she’d stop at the pet store and buy her some special treats. Prepare her for the day when Mark disappeared again.
Chapter 31
Technically, she cheated. Melissa’s little something to eat was an authentic Italian meal from Luigi’s, that included all his favorites. The aroma from his favorite restaurant made his stomach growl in anticipation. Hot crusty bread, antipasto salad, a veal dish in a wine sauce, and buttered potatoes were already on the table. The expensive rich dark wine was breathing.
“You went all out,” Mark said, pouring two glasses of wine.
“Just pretend we’re in Italy.” He got the message. She was still trying to make the trip to Italy into a romantic Roman holiday. She tapped his glass and took her seat. Mark had missed lunch, and he chose to ignore the underlying message. He filled his plate, tore off a piece of the bread, and savored the first bite.
“You’re not eating,” he noticed as she sipped more of the wine.
“I am, but I’m bothered by one of my cases, and I can’t shake it off. I guess you must have clients you feel bad for and bring home with you.”
“Eat.” He patted her hand. “You went to a lot of trouble, and there’s nothing you can do for your patient right now.”
“You’re right. It’s just so frustrating.” She filled her plate and took a small bite.
“Is she terminal?” Mark asked.
“Oh, no, but I shouldn’t talk about her.” Half way through dinner, Melissa turned on some soft mood music and finished her wine, but Mark sensed her worry.
He sat with her on the sofa with the rest of the wine, and she cuddled against him.
“Maybe you should talk about her, generically speaking. Doctors must need to vent or process like the rest of the population. You can trust me, Melissa, not to repeat anything you tell me.”
She smiled at him thoughtfully. “I would like to tell you, Mark, but it can’t go anywhere else. It could cost me my license.”
“I understand.”
“Normally, I can keep my emotions a safe distance from the surface. They teach you in medical school not to get emotionally involved for good reason.”
“It has to be hard with the devastating disease you deal with.”
“Yet, I do it every day, but this patient is different. She’s not the typical over fifty breast cancer patient. She’s just thirty without a family history of the disease. That in itself didn’t touch me, but she’s not the ideal patient either. She’s terrified of hospitals, doctors, needles, anything related to medicine. I’ve had to cajole, threaten, push her through this whole process.” She took another sip of her wine.
Was Melissa talking about Mags? He hadn’t considered she might be frustrated with her. Should he stop her before she told him anymore?
“She had a malignant tumor, but fortunately it hadn’t spread beyond the immediate area of the breast. I wanted it removed yesterday, but it took her almost a month to schedule it and keep the appointment. The day of the surgery I went in to check on her pre-op, and she almost walked out. I gave her a mild sedative to relax her then I realized she was alone. Can you imagine, Mark? There was no one there to hold her hand, calm her down.”
Mark felt sick. Was that Mags? Did s
he really go through that nightmare alone?
“Just as I was leaving, her mother burst in the door. The woman was completely scattered, fearful she had missed her daughter before surgery. I don’t know why she was so late, but she barely had time to kiss her good-bye when the orderlies came for her.”
It couldn’t be Mags. Her mother wouldn’t be so thoughtless. They had a good relationship, and he was certain she would have been there for her.
“After the surgery, I checked on her in recovery. She was still kind of out of it, but she was calling for someone. Asking for someone named Mark.” She smiled at him, amused at the coincidence. “Anyway, if she needed this Mark, I was going to bring him right to her. It is so important to treat the whole patient, Mark, not just the cancer. I thought this guy could help her.”
She cuddled into the curve of his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently. “What did you do?”
“I went to the surgical waiting room to find her mother, and her sister had arrived. First, I told them she had done well, and the prognosis was good. Then I told them she was asking for Mark. Oddly, there were no men in the waiting room.”
“What happened?”
“Her stupid sister exploded calling this Mark every derogatory name in the book. I don’t know what he did, but sister wanted him tarred and feathered. Mom, on the other hand, pulled me aside and told me Ma…I mean, my patient and Mark were no longer together. I insisted she needed to contact him. Surely, he could offer a little comfort, a little support in a friendship kind of way, but mom said she had no way to contact him.”
Mark shook his head. He could have been found. His folks knew where he was. Did Mags’ family not want to approach them? Would his parents have turned them away? “What did you do?”
“The only thing I could do. I returned to my patient, hoping she’d be more lucid and forget she had asked for Mark. She talked quietly, seemed to understand as I explained what I did. Then she started to cry, asking for Mark again. I had to tell her he couldn’t be there, and you wonder why I couldn’t keep my professional distance.”
