Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance)

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Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance) Page 12

by Beverly Taylor


  “What if he takes Cindy?”

  The question was met with a wide-eye look of offense. “So what!”

  “Won’t you feel embarrassed?”

  “Why should I? I didn’t walk out on him.”

  Natalie remained silent.

  “Can you imagine his face when he sees the new me?” Katharine said, grinning into the phone as if Natalie could see her glowing.

  “Kat, have you really given this much thought? I mean, have you sat down with a consultant or anyone about this cosmetic surgery?”

  “Of course I have. My family doctor recommended a surgeon. I’ve researched his background, and he has an impeccable success record. He came highly endorsed by his clients. I’ve called a few for references, and they gave him the seal of approval. And, on top of that, I’ve even met two of them and they looked fabulous. I have a meeting with the doctor tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Stephen about this first? He—”

  “Stephen’s not a plastic surgeon,” she cut in.

  “No, but he could probably provide you with some valuable medical advice.”

  “No, thanks. I know what you’re trying to do. You’ll try to get him to talk me out of it. Exactly why I didn’t go to him in the first place.”

  “Shucks.” Katharine heard Natalie snap her fingers. “You know me all too well.” She paused and then said resignedly, “Well, I guess your mind’s made up. If it’s okay, I’d like to be there with you. I have a couple of questions to ask him myself.”

  “What for? You’re well endowed—front and back. I’m sure Stephen doesn’t have any complaints in that department.”

  Natalie chose not to comment. Instead she asked, “How do you propose to keep your new look away from Carson until the banquet? He comes by twice a week to spend with the kids when he’s home. Naturally, he’ll see you too.”

  “Simple. I’ll wear the one thing he hates the most—my oversized muumuu.”

  “Okay, Sinatra. Go ahead and do it your way, but there may be dire consequences.” She exhaled heavily into the phone. “Lord, the things we women do for our men,” Natalie harrumphed. “I hope you know what you’re in for.”

  “Believe me, I do. And, I’ve already scheduled time off from work for the surgeries and recovery times.”

  * * *

  Katharine stood in the doorway of the most elaborately furnished waiting room she had ever seen. It was like looking into the office of Donald Trump. She could easily have spent two hours just admiring the paintings and the strategically placed statues.

  Dr. Cordova rose from behind his oversized mahogany desk and motioned them inside. “Ah, Mrs. O’Connor. Please, please come in and have a seat.”

  “This is my friend, Mrs. Natalie Harper,” Katharine said, shaking the surgeon’s soft hand. Introducing Natalie as the wife of a locally, well-known surgeon with whom Dr. Cordova was no doubt acquainted would only divert attention from the topic she wanted to discuss.

  Dr. Cordova extended his hand to Natalie. “Dr. Cordova. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Harper.”

  “Thank you,” Natalie responded, shaking his hand. “Likewise.”

  “Mrs. O’Connor, I want to start this off with any questions you may have. And any information I haven’t covered through your questioning, I will provide afterward. I’ve found this approach much more effective and comfortable for the patient than my talking first.”

  “Okay.” Katharine took a deep breath in and out. “Well, I’ve decided to have the augmentation surgeries and, as you know, I’ve researched your background, read your periodicals, and spoken with a few of your patients who have had the implants, and I’m convinced you’re the right surgeon for me. But for the sake of my dear friend here,” she nodded in Natalie’s direction, “my questions will all be geared toward what to expect from the surgery itself.”

  Dr. Cordova smiled. “Sounds good.” He gave Natalie a friendly wink and turned to Katharine. “Okay, shoot.”

  “How should I prepare for the surgery?”

  “Have you had a recent mammogram?” Dr. Cordova inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “Very good. I’ll need to review it. Breast and buttocks augmentations are usually performed as outpatient procedures. Just be sure to arrange for someone to drive you home after surgery and to stay with you at least the first night following surgery.”

  “Okay. I will.” She and Natalie exchanged glances. “What will the day of surgery be like?”

  “For both procedures, you’ll be anesthetized. You can choose either local anesthesia or intravenous sedation. If it seems necessary, we’ll administer general anesthesia. Before the surgery, I’ll examine your breasts and buttocks and possibly take photographs for your medical record. If your breasts are sagging, I may recommend a breast lift in conjunction with the augmentation.”

  “What are the risks?” Natalie inquired anxiously.

  The doctor looked at Katharine as he answered Natalie’s question. “Naturally, no surgical procedure is risk free, but we do our best to minimize the risks for our patients. One of my consultants will discuss your medical history to make sure you’re a suitable candidate. Thousands of women undergo successful augmentation surgery every year. However, anyone considering surgery should be aware of the risks as well as the benefits. There is no scientific evidence that breast augmentation increases the risk for breast cancer, but infection and bleeding can occur. Other surgical risks include nerve and/or muscle damage, slippage of the implants, and asymmetry. I perform at least four to five implant surgeries every month—that’s one a week on average. I can assure you’ll receive the best possible results.”

  “How is the surgery performed?” Natalie queried.

  Dr. Cordova opened a book of surgical illustrations and turned it to face Katharine. “After we’ve determined your appropriate breast size based on your personal preferences and body type, an incision will be made either in the crease of the breast, the armpit, the navel or the pigmented area of skin that surrounds the nipple, and the implants will be placed based on your choice of procedure. You will want to take into consideration the procedure that leaves virtually undetectable scarring.

  He turned a few pages. “For the buttocks, a two- or three- inch incision is made between the buttocks in the midline and the buttock muscle is lifted up to make a pocket just large enough for the implant to be inserted into it.”

  “How long can the results last and what about recovery time?” Natalie barged in before Katharine could ask the same question.

  “The results will be long-lasting. However, gravity and the effects of aging will eventually alter the size and shape.” His eyes cut back and forth between the two women as he spoke. “And, as for recovery, after the bandages are removed, if your stitches are the traditional variety, they will be dislodged between one and two weeks after your breast implant placement surgery.

  “The breasts are wrapped and supported with a gauze bandage. You will then be fitted with a special surgical bra that provides support for the first several weeks. This will help expedite the healing process and minimize any discomfort.

  “It is extremely important to keep the area around the stitches clean. Avoid submerging your incision site in water and do not let dirt or products come in contact with the area. You should also avoid any strenuous activity, lifting, or stretching that could pull the sutures. This will prolong healing time and make your scar more noticeable.

  “For the buttocks, a post-surgery undergarment must be worn which will help to get rid of inflammatory process as well as helping the implants to heal and settle properly.

  “If after several years you become dissatisfied with the appearance of your breasts and buttocks, you may choose to undergo a lifting to restore their youthful contour.”

  “Last question, doctor. What are the costs?” Katharine asked in an I-really-don’t-care-how-much-it-costs tone.

  “Ah,” he said, grinning. “Save the best for last. Breast impl
ants cost anywhere between seven and eight thousand dollars and buttock augmentation around nine thousand.”

  “What!” Natalie exclaimed. “That’s highway robbery.” She turned her face away from Dr. Cordova’s full view and whispered out of the side of her mouth to Katharine. “My instincts are telling me this is a big mistake, Kat. I—”

  “Shh,” Katharine whispered, cutting Natalie off.

  Dr. Cordova gave Natalie a disapproving look.

  “Mrs. Harper,” he began calmly, his fingers intertwined and resting comfortably on top of his desk. “I’m a professor of plastic surgery and have lectured nationally and internationally. I have performed successful breast and buttocks augmentation surgeries for more than twenty years. I have published books and journal articles in my fields of expertise and am frequently called upon for consultation by other surgeons around the world or to donate my services. I can assure you these prices are extremely competitive and reasonable.” He cut his eyes at Natalie and looked more kindly at Katharine.

  “Do you have any further questions, Mrs. O’Connor?”

  “None I can think of at the moment.” She gave Natalie a sideways glance. She wanted to see how she looked swallowing her size eight shoe.

  Natalie glared at Dr. Cordova for so eloquently setting her straight.

  “Should any questions arise, please feel free to contact me or any member of my staff. My goal, as your plastic surgeon, is to make your surgical experience as easy and comfortable for you as possible. And, if necessary, we also provide a payment plan for your convenience.”

  Natalie couldn’t get beyond his rebuttal. “Did he just cuss me out?” she asked Katharine in a low voice.

  Katharine nudged her arm. She turned to Dr. Cordova, who acted as if he hadn’t heard them. “I don’t want to delay this procedure any longer than I have to,” she said. “I’d like to schedule the surgeries as soon as possible, doctor.”

  “Very good. We can schedule the breast implants for next week, and the buttock augmentation the week after, provided you’ve been determined as a candidate. You should be able to return to work in about four weeks, or even sooner, depending upon your recovery response.”

  Dr. Cordova rose from his chair and Katharine followed suit. Natalie remained seated for a moment. Katharine could tell from Natalie’s dirty look that she wanted to blurt out, “Hell to the no thanks, doc. We’ve changed our minds,” but instead she slowly rose from her seat as the doctor again shook Katharine’s hand.

  “You’re in good hands,” the doctor said. “I’ll see you next week,” he smiled at Katharine. “Mrs. Harper,” he added coldly, nodding a farewell to Natalie.

  Natalie barely managed a polite smile.

  Chapter 18

  “I have to fly to Asheville this weekend to interview a high profile football coach,” Carson informed Cindy.

  “Asheville!” Cindy cheered. “I love it there, and I’d love to go with you—I mean, meet you there. It would be the perfect place for Deanna and me to reconnect. After your interview, the three of us can have a fun, relaxing weekend together.”

  “Actually, I was thinking how my children would get a kick out of seeing the Great Smoky Mountains,” Carson replied. “Katharine and I visited the Blue Ridge Mountains before they were born. The waterfalls were breathtaking,” he smiled reminiscently, then sighed. “But Katharine would never approve of my taking the children out of state.”

  “Does Katharine know I’m living here with you?”

  “Are you kidding? No way! As innocent as our relationship is, she’d have a conniption if she found out. That’s why I’ve asked you to stay at your mother's house when the children spend the night here.”

  “I didn’t think she did,” she replied in a melancholy voice. “So it’s all right if Deanna and I meet you there?”

  Carson gave it brief consideration. “Why not,” he answered. “Where would you like to stay?”

  “The Asheville Hilltop Cabin?”

  “Perfect,” Carson said. “I’ll have the Weekly reserve it for me. Well, us, but they won’t know that I have any guests except the coach I’m interviewing.”

  “No need,” Cindy said. “Just leave it to me.”

  * * *

  On Friday evening, Carson arrived at the Asheville Hilltop Cabin four hours after Cindy and Deanna had checked in. The front desk clerk gave Carson his cabin key, a copy of his check-in invoice, and a slip of pink paper with a message from his office.

  “The lady who left the message,” the clerk pointed to the paper in Carson’s hand, “said she’d been calling your cell phone, but it gave her a constant busy signal and then disconnected. To be on the safe side, just in case you didn’t get the messages she’d left at your office, she left one here too.”

  “Thanks,” Carson said. “I appreciate it.” A wave of annoyance swept over him as he read the message: His interview had been postponed at the last minute and would be rescheduled for a later date—this time in Los Angeles.

  Not wanting to disappoint Cindy and Deanna by going back home, he removed his luggage from the rental car and located his cabin, which was secluded in a grove of pines and boasted an incredible mountain view. Looking at the peaceful blue sky and listening to the crickets chirping in the shrubbery, he thought, maybe the weekend will do me some good.

  The cabin looked rather rustic and quite plain from the outside, but he knew it had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a fireplace. The brochure said it could comfortably accommodate four adults. He opened the unlocked door and set his luggage inside.

  Deanna was staring out the cabin window at the marvelous view.

  “Deanna,” Cindy called to her.

  Deanna turned with a feline motion that was very quick, very controlled. Predatory.

  “Carson, I’d like you to meet my daughter,” Cindy said. “Deanna, this is Mr. O’Connor.”

  For a moment, it was utterly quiet. Nothing moved but Carson’s outstretched hand. “You want my arm to fall off?” Carson smiled.

  Cindy laughed. “That’s original.”

  Deanna said nothing, did nothing, simply watching Carson as though she’d never seen a man like him before.

  “She’s an innocent,” Cindy whispered to Carson. “Very cautious.”

  “What? Have you never met a genuinely good person?” He playfully tilted his head sideways and spread his arms to invite her to hug him.

  Deanna turned back to the window as if she didn’t trust herself to speak or look at him.

  Carson stood with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, waiting for her to make the next move.

  “I don’t know you.” Deanna’s voice was flat and calm, but he could sense the anger seething just beneath the surface. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  Nothing answered Deanna but stillness.

  She turned to face him. “Did you know my father?”

  “A wise man assumes everyone is his enemy—that is, until he meets me,” Carson responded, smiling. “I’m not your enemy, Deanna. I’d really like to be your friend and enjoy the weekend with you and your mother.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Deanna said.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I never met Norman, but I’ve heard nothing but praise of him. He must have been a good man. I’m a good man, too, but don’t mistake goodness for weakness.” He wanted to make sure she knew who was the adult and who was the child.

  “And don’t mistake innocence for stupidity,” she retorted.

  Hm, well said, he thought. She’s a smart, well-spoken kid, uh, child. Cindy hadn’t warned him that her daughter would be so defensive. Maybe her chubbiness had something to do with it. Well, chubbiness was putting it kindly. “I could never do that,” he returned. “Tell you what, though. How’d you like to meet LaBron James?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not into basketball.” Her expression remained flat for a moment and then brightened. “Can you introduce me to Soulja Boy and Drake?”

  �
�Uh . . . I’ve heard the names but don’t know them personally. I’ll check with my paper’s entertainment editor and see what I can do. Deal?” He extended his hand.

  Deanna smiled for the first time. “Deal,” she said and grasped Carson’s fingers.

  Cindy’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and she gave Carson a grateful smile.

  * * *

  On Saturday, they toured America’s largest home and the world-famous winery at the Biltmore Estate and then drove along the Blue Ridge Parkway to see the highest mountains in the eastern United States. After exploring vibrant downtown Asheville, shopping for fine arts and crafts, and visiting an artist’s studio, they toured the neighboring towns of Hot Springs and Black Mountain.

  That evening, they dined at the Cafe on the Square, sitting inside the enclosed glass patio and watching the people in Park Square. Carson was careful to order the rainbow trout rather than the steak or fried chicken, correctly guessing Deanna would follow his example. Afterwards, they attended a play at the Performing Arts Center.

  Sunday morning, they rose early to go whitewater rafting, hiked the Appalachian Trail, and enjoyed the view from atop Chimney Rock. At noon, they enjoyed a picnic lunch beside a waterfall before cruising the sky-blue waters of Lake Lure, all in the coolness of March.

  In a pamphlet, Cindy discovered a photographer’s studio offering the opportunity to dress in a variety of costumes. Deanna liked the Ma and Pa Kettle outfits and Carson voted for the turn-of-the-century clothing, but Cindy argued for the bride and groom, with Deanna as a junior bridesmaid. The photographer enthusiastically supported Cindy’s choice, telling Deanna how pretty she would look, and eventually the others were won over.

  For Carson, Cindy chose a white two-button, single-breasted tuxedo with satin-edged lapels that he thought self-consciously made him look like a plaster groom on a wedding cake.

  Deanna’s bridesmaid gown, a beautiful coral color that suited her complexion, had three-quarter trumpet sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Deanna was ecstatic over the scalloped metallic embroidery on the skirt. Holding a beautiful arrangement of pink and white silk carnations and smiling with the excitement of dressing up, she looked pretty despite her chubbiness.

 

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