by Elena Graf
“That’s probably more accurate.”
“Come watch the news,” said Maggie, giving her a squeeze. “When the girls get here, we won’t have time for anything.”
“Let me get a beer. I’ll be right there.”
Maggie headed to the media room and switched on the enormous TV. She landed right in a news story about the spread of the virus in Italy. The masked and gowned reporter took them inside a Roman hospital where covid-19 victims on gurneys lined the halls. A disembodied voice explained that doctors were forced to choose who would live and who would die based on the prognosis and available equipment.
Liz put her beer on the coffee table and sat down beside her. “I’m not surprised they’re down to doing triage. It’s like an accident scene.”
Maggie reached for Liz’s hand. “Could that happen here?”
“Yes,” said Liz, “if we don’t take a lesson from this and figure out how to slow the spread.”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s very scary,” Liz agreed. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure out how to stay safe.”
Maggie leaned forward to look at Liz’s face. “You always sound so confident, but I know you. You’re frightened too.”
Liz nodded solemnly. “People have been predicting a pandemic for years, but we haven’t had one for generations. Seventeen million people died from the Spanish flu, and many people think that’s a low estimate.”
Maggie put her head on Liz’s shoulder. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you either. We’re both in the high-risk group because we’re over sixty.” Liz chuckled softly. “You read that seniors are more at risk and then realize you’re a senior!” Liz reached for the remote and clicked off the television. “This isn’t helping. Let’s listen to some music.” She put her arm around Maggie.
After a glass of wine, Maggie felt calmer. As she listened to the easy jazz and the faint clatter of Liz setting the table in the dining room, she felt safe and content. By the time the ship’s bell on the porch rang, she felt ready to deal with her active grandchildren.
Chapter Thirteen
Brenda put on extra makeup because she would appear on the livestream of the selectmen’s meeting that evening. The lights they used made everyone pale, so a little extra makeup accentuated her features and kept her from looking like a ghost. Maggie Fitzgerald had passed along this little tip, and Brenda had religiously followed it for every broadcast.
Of all of Liz’s girlfriends, Maggie was Brenda’s favorite. Jenny and Alyson, both doctors, had always intimidated Brenda, but Maggie, once you got to know her was warm and friendly. She respected Liz’s friendship with Brenda and never tried to horn in on it. “There are things Liz likes to do that I don’t really enjoy,” Maggie had explained. “I’m glad she has friends who enjoy doing them with her.” One of those things was fishing. Liz had confided that, early in their relationship, Maggie had asked to accompany her on a fishing trip. That had been the one and only time.
As Brenda used the sculpting powder to define her cheekbones, she recalled Maggie’s first makeup lesson. Maggie had given her a complete makeover, but Brenda would never go out in public wearing all that makeup. With a little frown, Liz watched from the doorway. “She tries to do this to me, but I never let her.”
Brenda tried to explain as diplomatically as possible that she preferred a more natural look. Maggie looked disappointed, but her face brightened when Brenda asked how to avoid looking like a corpse during the town-meeting broadcasts. That’s when Maggie had shown her all the tricks for looking good on TV.
Brenda slicked on some lipstick and threw the tube into the belt pouch where she kept her wallet and keys. As she inspected herself in the mirror, she wondered what Cherie would think of her TV-star look. She’d told Cherie about being on local TV. Cherie had given her a sly smile and said she would definitely tune in.
Brenda clipped the rest of her paraphernalia on her duty belt. She still carried the full complement despite sitting at her desk most of the day. She’d thought about lightening up, but it was a small force, and Brenda never knew when she might be called out for backup.
She gave herself one last quick look in the mirror and smoothed back the stray blond hairs around her face. As she headed out the door, she grabbed her campaign hat from the hook.
On the way to the diner, her stomach growled. She was looking forward to her breakfast with Liz. Paula waved from the counter when Brenda came into the diner. “Doc is over there already.” She pointed to the usual alcove table in the back.
Liz glanced up from her phone. “Hey, Brenda. How the hell are you?”
“Eh. Okay. You?”
“Same. Can’t wait for winter to be over. Hold on I just need to respond to this message from Maggie.”
“Okay.” Brenda looked around for a waitress. Lisa waved and brought over coffee in an old-fashioned white mug that looked like it went back to the diner’s founding. The present owners had bought it in 1983. Brenda wondered what would happen to the place when they retired.
Liz reached into her apron pocket and put two creamers on the table. “The usual for you two?” she asked.
They both nodded.
Liz finished her text and put down the phone. “One of these times, we should order something different. Just to keep them guessing.”
Brenda chuckled. “Good idea.” She peeled back the foil on the creamers and dumped the contents into her coffee. “What’s happening over at the Stolz household?”
“Alina moved in with her kids. There are rumors about the virus in the Scarborough school system.”
“You’re kidding.”
Liz shook her head. “Nope. Alina has an inside line being the news producer.”
“But there are no cases in Maine.”
“No confirmed cases. But who knows? We don’t have reliable tests, and they are hard to come by.”
Brenda frowned as she considered what Liz had said. “Does that mean people could be walking around spreading the virus and we don’t know it?”
“That’s exactly what it means. The incubation period is supposedly one to two weeks. We’re not sure about that either.”
“Shit,” said Brenda and gave Liz a worried look.
“Ayuh. Not a happy thought.”
The waitress delivered their breakfast. “More coffee, Doc?”
“Please.” The waitress grabbed the coffee pot. She refilled Liz’s cup and topped off Brenda’s. “I have two boxes of N95 masks for your officers,” said Liz. “Good thing that woodworking supply company appreciates all the business I give them, but they sent a text saying they were only supplying them because I have an M.D. after my name.”
“Always good to have connections.”
“I talked to the dry-wall contractor who worked on Erika’s house. He coughed up another two hundred masks.” Liz finally realized what she’d said was a pun. “Hah. Not trying to be funny.”
Brenda wasn’t laughing. “It’s incredible that here, in the richest country in the world, we don’t have enough masks to go around.”
“I read an article about that in the financial pages. You wouldn’t think so, but masks and paper gowns are commodities like paper towels and napkins. We closed our own mills and factories and sent all that manufacturing business to China,” said Liz, mopping up her eggs with her toast.
“Can I stop by later and pick up the masks?”
“Be my guest. Cherie will be there all afternoon.” Liz grinned.
“Are you trying to set me up, Liz?”
“Nope. You can set yourself up. I’m just your wingman.”
***
As Brenda rode down Route 1 on her way to Beach Road, she remembered the awkward goodbye on the night she’d shown up with the wine.
Cherie’s Cajun stew t
urned out to be delicious. After the big revelation, the conversation became more relaxed. JP told stories about growing up in Calais. Brenda had a wonderful time. When she was ready to leave, she leaned forward for a goodnight kiss, but Cherie backed up.
“I’m sorry, Brenda, but I’m just not ready for that.”
Brenda swallowed her hurt. “I was only going to give you a kiss on the cheek to thank you for the wonderful dinner.” It wasn’t completely a lie. She was going to start with a kiss on the cheek and work her way around.
“Let’s wait until we get to know one another a little better.”
The memory of that little scene stung. It had kept Brenda awake that night. Maybe she’d lost her touch with women. She’d been with Marcia for fifteen years before she passed. Her dates since had been disasters. Once and done. She just hadn’t been ready for a new love. Now, things were different.
She certainly didn’t want to blow it with Cherie. Since that night, they’d exchanged a few friendly emails on innocuous topics like the health of Cherie’s father and the sudden snowstorm that had dumped nearly ten inches and closed the schools again.
Brenda pulled into the Hobbs Family Practice parking lot and turned off her engine. This was a professional call, so she decided she should put on her hat.
The eyes of all the patients in the waiting room followed her as she walked through on her way to the counter.
“Hey, Chief, how are you today?” asked Ginny cheerfully.
“Well enough, thank you. And you?”
“Never better.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Is Ms. Bois available? I’m here to pick up something.”
“She’s with a patient, but she should be done soon. Should I page her to let her know you’re here?”
Brenda waved her hand. “No, please don’t disturb her. I’ll wait.”
“Do you want me to hang your hat back here?” asked Ginny, reaching for it.
“That’s very kind. Thank you.” She handed over her hat and took a seat in the waiting room. The patients gave her another curious look, then went back to their magazines or cell phones. Brenda dialed down her scanner so noise wouldn’t disturb anyone. She gazed out the window at the salt marsh and noticed the tide had come in.
Cherie finally came out with her stethoscope around her neck. “Chief Harrison? Are you looking for me?”
Brenda stood and Cherie gave her a look of apprehension. The uniform. Brenda had forgotten that Cherie didn’t like it. Cherie’s expression instantly changed from dismay to a professional mask.
“Follow me, please,” said Cherie in a chilly, formal voice.
As they headed down the corridor, Brenda said, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“One of my patients canceled, so I have a few minutes.”
Brenda lightly touched Cherie’s shoulder to slow her pace. “I’m sorry. I know my uniform frightens you.”
Cherie turned around. “It does, but I’m trying to get used to it.” She pointed to an open door. “Dr. Stolz said you’d be by this afternoon. I have everything ready for you in here.”
They went into the storage room, and Cherie closed the door behind them. “How are you?” she asked, her eyes searching Brenda’s face. The look felt unnervingly intimate.
“Fine,” Brenda stammered.
“I want to say I’m sorry for pushing you away the other night.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I understand. You want to take it slow. That’s okay with me.”
Cherie reached for Brenda’s hand. “I like you. In fact, I like you a lot, but I really want to get to know you before…anything happens.” She nodded toward Brenda’s uniform. “This outfit scares the shit out of me.”
“Still?”
“Yes, still. Please…give me time.”
Brenda smiled. “For you, I have all the time in the world.”
Cherie returned the smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Can I give you a hug?” Brenda asked hopefully.
“That might be a little too much. And we are in the office.” Cherie raised a suggestive brow. “I don’t think Dr. Stolz would approve of hanky-panky in the storage room.”
Brenda snorted a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Liz has been in more mischief than you and me put together!”
“I bet she has.” When Cherie smiled, her whole face lit up.
“When can I see you again?”
“Tonight?” asked Cherie in a hopeful voice. “Maybe we can go to dinner at a nice place. I’d have to go home and get dinner for my father, but after that I’m free.”
Brenda sighed. “I can’t tonight. I have the town council meeting.”
“Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot.”
“Liz will be there too. We’re discussing how the town should respond to the virus. She’s speaking both as the town doctor and the president of the chamber of commerce.”
“Well, if that’s not a conflict of interest, I don’t know what is,” replied Cherie with a thoughtful frown.
“I’m sorry about tonight. How about tomorrow night? I can make you that romantic dinner we talked about.”
Cherie looked momentarily shy. Then she smiled. “All right,” she said. “That’s even better. I can plan for Daddy’s dinner, and he can heat it up in the microwave.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Daddy is pretty self-sufficient. And he won’t mind. He likes you.”
“He does?” asked Brenda.
“Yes, he said you look kind.”
Brenda found that oddly touching. “Despite the uniform…and the gun, I am kind.” Brenda found herself moving closer to Cherie, holding her gaze.
“I know,” said Cherie, looking deeply into Brenda’s eyes. “Can I have that hug you offered?”
“Sure,” said Brenda. She glanced down. “Sorry about all the crap on my service belt.”
“It’s okay. We can hug like society ladies. No body contact.”
As Cherie touched her cheek to hers, Brenda could smell the sweet scent of freshly washed hair. The warmth of her soft skin was delicious. Brenda wanted to linger, but Cherie told her that she had a patient on the way.
Chapter Fourteen
Cherie hadn’t worn a dress since fall had brought its first frost. She remembered staring with fascination at the glittering ice crystals on the grass. When they’d had their first snowfall, a few days after Halloween, she couldn’t take her eyes off the snowflakes. As a Southerner, she still found the cold shocking. Her friends had questioned her sanity when she’d said she was moving and warned her about the northern winters.
Allthough Cherie longed for the long winter to end, she was glad for an opportunity to wear the green sweater dress she’d bought in an L. L. Bean winter clearance sale. The dress was warm and clung just enough to accentuate her curves. Cherie worked hard in the gym to maintain her figure, and she wasn’t shy about showing it off. She slipped on high heeled pump and inspected herself in the mirror. After a winter in jeans, hoodies and boots, it felt good to look feminine for a change. She suspected that Brenda would agree.
When Cherie came into the living room to tell her father she was ready to go, he whistled through his teeth and exclaimed, “Ooh la la! Très jolie!”
“Thank you, Daddy.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Have everything you need? Your oxygen is right here if you’re short of breath.”
He waved her away. “Stop babying me. I’m fine, honey. I raised you, didn’t I? How do you suppose I did that?”
Cherie smiled. “You were a wonderful father and still are.”
He tried to look around her so he could see the TV. “Get out of here,” he said in a slightly cranky voice. “Have a good time,” he added, apparently to make amends for the crankiness. He turned up his face for another kiss. His cheek
was rough with a day’s growth of beard.
“You need a shave, Daddy.”
“Tomorrow,” he replied in a dismissive voice. “No one sees me except you.”
“Well, then shave for me. I’m the only woman in your life now.”
“Yes, you are, my beautiful baby girl.” He reached for her hand and gave it a kiss. “I promise I’ll shave later. Just for you.”
Cherie slipped her arms into her dress coat and called goodnight to her father as she headed out the door.
She needed the GPS to find Brenda’s house. When she’d said it was in the woods, she wasn’t exaggerating. To keep down the light pollution, there were no streetlights except at major intersections. The same with street signs. The locals all knew where they were going, so it didn’t matter to them. The summer people kept to the shoreline and had no idea that anything existed on the other side of I95.
Finally, Cherie found the entrance to a development in the middle of nowhere. She drove around twice before she found the mailbox with the correct number and pulled into the driveway. The light on the porch went on as soon as her headlights hit the house. A moment later, the front door opened, and she saw Brenda’s familiar figure silhouetted against the light from inside.
Heavy rain and warm weather had melted most of the snow in the last few days. The walkway to the house was dry. The scuff of her heels on the pavement echoed against the house.
The storm door opened. “Welcome,” said Brenda, holding it open for her. “I see you found your way in the dark.”
“You were right. You do live in the woods.”
“Yes, and I love it. Come on in.”
Brenda took Cherie’s coat. “What a pretty dress. So dressed up! Now, I feel like a slob.”
Cherie took in Brenda in a glance. She was wearing corduroy pants and a knit top, but no shoes.
“Would you like me to take off my shoes?” asked Cherie. “Most people up here don’t seem to wear shoes in the house.”
Brenda’s eyes were welded to Cherie’s feet. “Most people I know don’t wear sexy shoes like yours. Please leave them on.” Brenda gestured toward a door. “Come into the living room. I have a fire going in the wood stove, and it’s nice and toasty.” Brenda led her into a casually furnished room with leather furniture, gleaming wood floors, and colorful woven wall hangings. “Some people think it’s strange that I have rugs on the wall instead of on the floor.”
