Twice Upon a Train

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Twice Upon a Train Page 7

by K A Moll


  “I could’ve done that for you,” Willow said, resting her hand on Nikki’s hip, as she sat down on her bed.

  Nicole grimaced, shifting her weight, and turning in her direction. “But you didn’t have to because I got it.”

  “You think maybe you should see a doctor?” Willow asked softly. “We just happen to have one on board.”

  “Of that, I’m well aware,” Nikki snapped. “I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve mentioned your doctor friend from childhood. But read my lips, I don’t need or want to see her. Give it a rest, Willow.”

  “For now, I will,” Willow responded, slipping her purse strap over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go out for a little while. I have my cell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Willow knocked, then knocked harder.

  “Just leave it outside the door,” Keegan called out.

  “It’s me, Keegs,” Willow answered, her stomach fluttering.

  Within seconds, Keegan was standing before her. “Hi,” she greeted softly.

  “Hi,” Willow responded, noticing medical journals laying open on the table. “I can see you’re busy. I won’t stay long.”

  “I’m not busy,” Keegan said, her eyes brightening, “just catching up on some reading. I’m glad you stopped by.” She pointed out her attire—bare feet, mussed hair, faded jeans, a well-worn UCSF School of Medicine t-shirt, and no bra. “I just hope my morning-look doesn’t scare you off.”

  “No chance of that,” Willow responded, wishing she was bold enough to put her arms around her neck and kiss her. “After the night I’ve had, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about last night,” Keegan said, dropping her gaze before meeting her eye. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Willow crinkled her brow. “Forgive you? For what?”

  “For pushing you to do more than you were ready to do.”

  “You didn’t push me, I pushed you,” Willow responded. “And then to make matters worse, I shut the door in your face and left you standing in the hall. It’s me who should be apologizing.” She went on to explain that she’d felt scared and exposed. “And, when that happens, I get quiet and usually cry.”

  “I understand the scared part,” Keegan said, “because this is all new territory. But you felt exposed?” She motioned for them to sit down on the sofa. “Because of me, something I did?”

  “And me,” Willow answered, her belly tingling, “the way my body responded to your touch. I mean, I expected to feel something, but not anything like that. It was like this neon sign flashed on in my head and I started imagining things that I couldn’t believe I was imagining—what would happen if we removed our clothes and our breasts touched, skin on skin; how it would feel to have your fingers inside me; and with each flash, fear swirled with passion.”

  “I know that sign,” Keegan said quietly, “flashing out of nowhere, sending your mind over the edge with an explosion of sexual feelings.” Her gaze dropped from Willow’s eyes to her shoulders, to the exposed skin between her breasts. “But once you know what flips its switch—a glimpse of cleavage—the curve of the underside of a breast—clothed nipples, hardening—you can control it.” She smiled gently. “Well, mostly, you can.”

  “What freaked me out,” Willow continued, “was that I’d never thought of myself as a lesbian, not once in my entire life, not even after your hand was in my pants. I was only thirteen. It was easy to explain that experience away as two girls playing doctor.” She took a breath and swallowed. “And then out of nowhere, there you were, kissing me and forcing me to deal with my sexuality.” She felt her pulse beat in her center. “I wanted you, right then and there, more than I can remember wanting anything, having no idea what that meant—which was embarrassing.” She shook her head, disgusted.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Keegan said softly. “God, you were beautiful.” She held her face between her hands, kissing her like a warm breeze kisses a spring morning, a warm breeze that left an aftertaste of whiskey. “And I wanted you. Oh, God, how I wanted you.” She took a breath, returning them to the previous topic. “So, it was different for me,” she went on. “I’ve always and only been attracted to women.”

  “You never thought you’d grow up to marry a boy, not even for a moment?”

  “Nope, when that neon sign first flashed on, terrifying me with sexual feelings, it was for a girl.”

  “How old were you when it happened?”

  “Fourteen,” Keegan responded, brushing Willow’s cheek with her fingertips. “On a train just like this one, I fell hard for a girl who took and kept the key to my heart.” She buried her nose in Willow’s hair, brushing a kiss on her cheek. “And having her back in my life, in my arms right now—” Her voice broke with huskiness. “It’s like the shadows have lifted, and all is right with the world.”

  Willow raked her fingers through Keegan’s hair, peering into her eyes. “Take my breath away, why don’t you.”

  Keegan kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids, and finally, her mouth.

  The whistle blew.

  The train stopped, then started.

  As it moved forward, chugging uphill, someone knocked.

  “Be right there,” Keegan called out, claiming one last kiss before answering the door. She collected her breakfast and tipped well. “So, tell me about Nikki,” she continued, sitting down, and dipping the corner of her toast in egg yolk. “You two have been friends for a long time.”

  “We have,” Willow said, concern slipping into her tone. “When you get to know her, you’ll probably pick up on two things; that she’s difficult on her best day and that we have next to nothing in common. We’ve been friends since junior high. She didn’t have friends because she couldn’t get along with anyone. I didn’t have them because I was timid, so one day at lunch we decided we were a match made in heaven. And since that day, we’ve always been there for one another.”

  “A lifelong friend is a treasure, regardless of how the friendship began.”

  “You’re right. And that’s what worries me about telling her.”

  “Because you think she’ll end the friendship?”

  “I don’t know, maybe,” Willow responded. “I’m pretty sure she won’t be able to wrap her mind around me being attracted to a woman.”

  “Never know, she might surprise you.”

  “She might, but I won’t risk telling her for a while.”

  “Because she’s been sick?”

  “Because she’s still sick.”

  “If you want, I’d be happy to take a look at her.”

  “That’s what we fought about this morning,” Willow responded. “She hates doctors, makes her living pinning them to the wall, and will not agree to see one, especially you.” She smiled shyly. “I think I may have mentioned you a few too many times.”

  Keegan smiled back. “What are her symptoms?”

  Willow listed them, one-by-one, saying that Nikki was getting worse, not better. “I’m worried she needs an antibiotic or something.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  “Even sick,” Willow warned, “she’s a force to contend with.”

  “And I’m a smooth-talking doctor,” Keegan answered with a wink. “Sit tight,” she added, “it’ll just take me a minute to shower and dress.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Wait here,” Willow said, slipping her key into the lock. “She’ll do better if I don’t just spring this on her.”

  “Whatever works best.”

  Willow stepped inside, finding Nicole at the desk. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Nicole looked up from her laptop. “The work doesn’t get done unless I do it.”

  “But you’re on vacation. And more importantly, you’re sick.”

  “I’m better.”

  “You’re not better. You’re pale, still throwing up, not eating, or drinking.”

  “I ate.”

  “Right,” Willow said
with a gentle eye roll, “Ripple eats more in one meal than you have since we left.”

  “And look at him, he’s fat.”

  “And your pain is worse,” Willow persisted, noticing that whenever Nicole moved, she winced. “You need to see about this.”

  “I took some Ibuprofen a little while ago. It just needs to kick in.”

  “God, I am so worried about you,” Willow said, jerking her hand through her hair.

  “It’s the flu, Willow. It’s a bad bout, but it’s the flu.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Willow answered, looking off, and back. “Okay, so you’re gonna be pissed about this…”

  Nicole closed her laptop lid, making direct eye contact.

  “You need to see a doctor, Nikki. You need a prescription for antibiotics or something.”

  “Didn’t we just go around this tree? I told you no.”

  “Yes, you did,” Willow answered, her tone suggesting that she was firm in her conviction. “And most of the time, I go along with whatever you say.”

  Nicole glared, crossing her arms. “Willow—”

  “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t call you on this. You’re sick, Nikki, and you need to see a doctor. You have to listen to me on this. Please, if only for me, please see her.”

  “She’s outside the fucking door,” Nicole snarled. “You brought her fucking home with you.”

  “Please, Nikki—”

  “Good God, are you ever a pain in the ass.” Nicole exhaled, furious. “Fine, I’ll see her. I’ll see her, but she’s not touching me. She can write me a prescription if she wants. For all the good it’ll do. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Willow, but we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. Where the hell am I gonna get it filled?”

  “Trust me, Nicole,” Willow shot back, “if she writes you a prescription, I’ll figure out how to get it filled.” Her tone softened, catching her gaze before stepping to the hall. “Please, be nice. For me, please, be nice to her.”

  Nicole glared. “Whatever.”

  *

  “Okay, she’ll see you,” Willow said, shutting the door. “But she’s mad as a hornet and adamant that you’re not touching her.”

  “I can’t make a diagnosis,” Keegan answered, “or even address her symptoms without examining her. And I can’t do an exam without touching her. I’m not sure how much good I’m going to be in this situation.”

  “At least you can take a look, see if you think I’m overreacting.”

  “If her symptoms are as you’ve described, I don’t think that you are.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “I know,” Keegan said softly, brushing Willow’s bottom with her fingertips as they made their way inside.

  “I have someone I want you to meet,” Willow announced lightly. “This is the friend I told you about, Dr. Keegan Wade.” She smiled at Keegan. “Keegs, this is Nikki.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Keegan greeted, extending her hand. “A friend of Willow’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Well, well, well,” Nicole responded, a satisfied gleam sparkling in her eyes, “Dr. Keegan Wade.” She ignored the offered hand, reaching for her satchel. “So kind of you to make a home visit.”

  Keegan caught Willow’s eye.

  And in that split-second, Willow put the pieces together—the man Keegan had saved, the one who’d lost his leg—Nikki’s new lawsuit—the defendant who hadn’t been served because she’d gone on vacation—the trumped-up case of medical malpractice. “Keegan,” she said firmly, “I need a minute with Nikki. Would you mind stepping out?”

  “Not at all,” Keegan answered, furrowing her brow. “I’ll be in the hall.”

  Nicole’s eyes narrowed, watching her step off. “Do we have a problem?”

  “I hope not,” Willow responded, her tone leaving no doubt that what she had to discuss was serious. “I need to talk with you before you speak with Keegan.”

  Nicole removed her glasses, laying them on the desk. “You have my undivided attention,” she said, her gaze as probing as a laser. “What’s on your mind?”

  Willow hesitated, gathering her thoughts. “Keegan’s not just anyone,” she began quietly. “She’s not just a childhood friend that I ran into on vacation. And she’s not just a doctor who’s willing to see you as a favor to me.” Her stomach rolled, traversing foreign territory. “She’s very special,” she continued with painfully direct eye contact, “and if I were to learn that someone intentionally hurt her, you need to know that it wouldn’t matter how much I loved that person, whatever relationship we had prior to that action would be finished.”

  Nicole’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m just letting you know where things stand.”

  Nicole placed her finger on her chin. “It was the summons. For some reason, when I reached for it, you figured out she was a defendant.”

  Willow’s eyes narrowed, saying nothing.

  “So, I’m curious, Willow,” Nicole said, her tone condescending, “would you have brought your precious Dr. Wade to me had you known that I was looking for her?”

  “Nikki, why do you have to be like this?”

  “Am I in such dire straits that you’d have taken that risk?”

  “Why can’t you just admit that you’re sick, be happy that we have a doctor on board who’s willing to see you?”

  “So, the answer’s no.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I find it interesting that you chose to take a stand on this,” Nicole went on. “I mean, you obviously know how things work. She gets sued, but the settlement doesn’t come out of her pocket. Trust me; she’s well insured. But that’s not it, is it? It’s not the one that’s pending; it’s the one that could be. You bared your claws, afraid I might file a personal lawsuit, take her to the cleaners. And afraid that under that circumstance, she wouldn’t be covered under her hospital’s umbrella, maybe not even by her own insurance.”

  Willow released a soft breath. “You need to see a doctor, Nikki.”

  “So, you say, Willow.”

  “She’s not like the ones you know; she’s different.”

  “She’s not arrogant, greedy, and addicted to one or more substances?”

  “No, of course, not.”

  Nicole laughed. “Shows how little you know.”

  Willow glared. “You’d better not hurt her, Nikki.”

  “Good God, you act like you’re sleeping with her.”

  Willow froze, stunned in the moment.

  “Oh my God, you are.”

  “I wasn’t gonna say anything until you were back on your feet.”

  “Why?” Nicole asked, drawing her eyebrows together. “You didn’t know she was my defendant, so why wouldn’t you tell me?” They were two very different people who just happened to talk about everything. “You could’ve told me. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  “Because I didn’t want to upset you, not when you’re so sick.”

  “Upset me? Why would you having sex with someone upset me?”

  “After what you said on the news, you have to ask?”

  “Oh, good grief,” Nicole muttered, “I say what I have to say to win cases. Or, as was the case in that situation, to garner public sympathy for my client. You should know me well enough to know that I’m not a bigot. God, you should know that.”

  “You said terrible things about gay people.”

  “To garner public sympathy for my client.”

  Willow pressed her lips together.

  “I’m not a bigot, Willow.”

  “I’m glad,” Willow answered, sickened by Nicole’s code of conduct. “So, I should go talk with Keegan, tell her what’s up,” she said, stepping off. “She’ll either come back in with me, or she won’t.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I’m sorry to send you out the way I did.”

  “No need to be,” Keegan responded. “I checked my mes
sages, returned a couple of calls, all’s good. Did you get everything taken care of?”

  Willow drew a breath, releasing it before speaking. “I don’t think so. That’s why we need to talk before we go back in.”

  Keegan nodded toward an upholstered bench at the end of the car. “Let’s sit down,” she suggested, threading their fingers together as they walked. “Bring me up to speed,” she said, resting her arm behind her.

  Willow explained the situation. “So anyway, when she reached for her satchel, I knew what she was about to do, and needed to get you out of there. I’ll understand if you want to stop right here.”

  “Nothing’s changed,” Keegan answered, “let’s go see her.”

  “You don’t need to do this, really. We’ll get off at one of these rural stations, get her seen by a doctor; this isn’t on you.”

  “That might not be as easy as you think,” Keegan responded. “Access to medical care in rural areas can be challenging.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “No, I need to do what I can for her.”

  “Keegan—”

  “I can’t walk away from her,” Keegan responded quietly, “not when my sense is that she needs immediate medical care.”

  “But she’s not going to accept it,” Willow countered, “not from you, and maybe not from anyone.”

  “That might be true, but I need to try.” Keegan’s breathing slowed, remembering a time when her passion for medicine was alive, working within her soul, causing her to become a doctor. “I took an oath to do no harm,” she said with quiet emphasis, “and I believe that walking away would be inflicting harm. Eating disorders are serious, potentially life-threatening conditions.”

  Willow crinkled her brow. “An eating disorder? That’s what you think is causing this?”

  “That’s my armchair diagnosis.”

  “God, if that’s true,” Willow responded, “oh God how could I have missed that. Some social worker I am; I can’t even see what’s right under my nose.”

 

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