by Judy Baer
As if.
Clay returned in a few moments with a carbonated soda in hand. He put the straw in my mouth. “Suck. You probably shredded your throat screaming, and it will settle your stomach if it’s still churning.”
The cold wetness felt wonderful on my lips and the sugar hit didn’t hurt, either. I felt myself gradually coming back to earth.
“So you do more doctoring than just delivering babies,” I mumbled faintly.
“A regular Renaissance man,” he agreed cheerfully. “That was fun. Want to do it again?”
I groaned. “Not in this lifetime.”
“I have to admit it, Molly, you were right. I’m staid and stuffy. I should be enjoying life more. How do you feel about roller coasters?”
I pointed in the direction of the kiddies’ rides where a mini roller coaster whipped around the track. “That’s the biggest I’ll go on.”
“If you aren’t going to be any fun, maybe we’d just better shop for Noah.”
He was way too cheery for my taste.
“Did you get any gift ideas while you were hanging upside down?” I tried to stand up but my legs seemed to have other ideas.
“Actually, I did.” He lifted me off the bench and stood me upright on watery legs. “How do in-line skates and a helmet sound?”
“Like a recipe for a broken arm.” My legs buckled and I sat down again.
“Downhill skis?”
“Same recipe, different broken body part.” Had I created a monster?
“A chemistry set.”
“Better. Of course, he could blow up your house.”
“I’ll work with him. It might be fun for both of us.”
“How about throwing in a parakeet and an ant farm?”
“No birds.”
“Ants, then. Clay, the boy needs some sort of pet that he can call his own. Even an ant is better than nothing. Besides, they can lift twenty times their own weight and have three eyes. Little boys love that stuff.”
He looked at me curiously. His eyes were lovely when lit by a smile. “Is this coming from a woman who at one time or another has owned an ant farm?”
“Years ago. The older I am, the bigger my pets get.”
“What’s going to be next, a milk cow and an elephant?”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea. I like it. The cow, I mean. My yard isn’t big enough for an elephant.”
“You are incorrigible, do you know that?” He leaned against a post, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was a mix of amusement and dismay.
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me out of this. As soon as I can stand, we’re going to buy an ant farm.” I attempted to stand again. My legs had turned into cooked spaghetti. “Or you can buy it and come back for me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the expert. Maybe you’ll feel better after we shop a while longer.” He took my arm and helped me up, then put his arm supportively around my waist. I grabbed the circle of his leather belt, needing to hang on to something.
“Maybe we should shop for you now that we’ve got Noah figured out.”
“Me?” Where did that squeak in my voice come from? “But Noah…”
He pulled a mall directory and map out of his shirt pocket. “There are a couple places in here that should have what we’re looking for. We’ll stop there on the way out. Now, what do you need? Clothes? Shoes? Women always want shoes.”
The merely surreal was quickly spiraling into the exceedingly bizarre, I realized as I sat in a small specialty shoe store trying on shoes and being grateful that I had not only given Geranium a pedicure, but myself one, as well. Clay had morphed into a man of virtue and patience that I hadn’t believed possible. He good-naturedly sat in the chair next to me, giving me a play-by-play of his opinion of the shoes the clerk was showing me.
“Too flat… Too ugly… I wouldn’t even put those things on Geranium….”
I love shoes but rarely buy anything other than sturdy things with good arch support and little style. I’m on my feet a lot, often on tile floors, so anything with high heels or any sort of style is highly impractical.
“Man, I could do surgery with the points on those toes. I didn’t know foot binding was coming back into fashion,”
The clerk glared at Clay and pursed her lips. I’m sure she wanted to smack him but held her tongue. I know the feeling.
He stood up and sauntered to the far side of the store and picked up a glorious shoe, one I’d noticed as we’d walked in. “How about this?” He dangled the shoe from his forefinger by its slim black back strap. “Stylish, sophisticated, good arch support, can be dressed up or down, able to serve the same function as that other old standby, the little black dress.”
The clerk stared at him with new respect in her eyes.
“And more expensive than my car payment.”
He glanced at the price tag on the sole. “Hardly. Not much more than those.” He pointed to my Birkenstocks.
“They are if I only wear them to church on Sundays.”
“What about your family get-together, the Cassidy bash, or whatever it is?”
“I usually don’t dress up that much…. My family wouldn’t know who I was…. Hildy might eat them….”
He turned to the clerk. “She’ll take them.”
Suddenly Clay was her best friend. “I have a lovely evening bag that would match perfectly. Would you like to see it?”
Clay glanced at me and grinned. “Molly would love to.”
I was stunned to walk out of the store with shoes and a purse that I would never have purchased on my own. I also felt a little giddy. I’m good at denying myself things, and I loved the shoes. The part that astounds me is that it was Clay Reynolds who talked me into buying them.
In the hallway I turned to the right, but Clay grabbed my arm. “This way.”
“I thought we were going to buy Noah’s gifts.”
“We will. But first, I like the look of this little store over here.” He steered me toward a women’s apparel store, one of those places that has only two or three things in the window on gaunt models, which guaranteed that the prices would be king-size.
“You have good taste.” I had to give him that. “But I don’t shop there.”
“Why not?”
“The question is, why do you care?”
“You’ve been manipulating me to your way of thinking about Noah. I’m just returning the favor. This is how I think you should shop.”
Ouch. Touché.
“I don’t have any money left after purchasing those shoes.”
“When was the last time you bought a new dress?”
“Not long ago. I found the skirt while I was shopping with Lissy.”
“An evening dress, one that might match those shoes.”
“A while, I guess.” I counted backward in my head. “Five or six years, maybe. I live a very casual life, you know.” I was loath to add, but it bubbled out anyway, “I suppose my friends might be getting sick of the same dress, but I reaccessorize….”
He gazed at me, one dark eyebrow lifted speculatively.
“Okay, I’ll look, but this is all weird, just plain weird.” I flapped my arms. “You hate me. You don’t want me anywhere near you and yet you think I need new party clothes?”
“I never said I ‘hate’ you. And the only place I don’t want you near me is in the hospital. Besides, you’ve been aggravating me for weeks. It’s fun to return the favor.”
I felt my lower lip jut out. “I liked you better cold and obnoxious.”
“Don’t worry, today is an aberration. It won’t continue. I’m just having a little fun. The last time I went shopping like this was just before…” His words trailed off and I saw pain pierce through him as plainly as if he’d been stabbed by a sword.
Before he lost his wife.
I put my hand on his arm. “Okay, come on. Have your fun, but I’m not speaking to you again after today.”
He rallied and some of his smile ret
urned. “Good. You’re very noisy. You disturb my peace and quiet.”
You, Clay Reynolds, disturb a lot more than that in me.
I tried to pout but the dresses were too pretty. What’s more, Clay, shockingly, has a very good eye for style. Every dress he recommended I try on fit like a glove. The ones I chose on my own were a parade of deteriorating fashion disasters.
“Why are you so good at this?” I asked, as the clerk wrapped up a trim black sheath that was going to look stunning with my new shoes.
He chuckled. “Actually, I had a good teacher. My grandfather’s sister was a bit of a clotheshorse in her day and she often dragged me with her when she went shopping. I adored her, so she could have asked me to go to Siberia with her and I would have said ‘How much do I pack?’ I learned by osmosis. That, and the fact that she’d always tell me why she liked a dress or why she didn’t. She explained the styling and the workmanship.”
“You had an odd upbringing.”
“Not necessarily odd, but certainly different from yours.”
“And now you’re duplicating your upbringing for Noah.”
He stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
“You were treated like a little old man and that’s how you treat him. You overprotect him, you know.”
“And you’re an expert on that?”
I laughed. “I was the exact opposite of over-protected. Mom always said if there wasn’t blood, it probably wasn’t serious. I wrestled with my brothers, dangled from trees and ate mud pies. And look at how I turned out!”
He eyed me and I realized that might not have been the wisest example to use to secure my argument.
Chapter Twenty
“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Clay, loaded down like a pack horse with bags and boxes, looked up and down the parking lot for his vehicle.
“You’ve been working hard.” I took one of the larger bags from his hand. “It’s not easy to boss me around.”
“You’re telling me. It’s like pushing a boulder uphill in a thunderstorm.” As if he hadn’t insulted me at all, he added, “After we put this stuff in the car, I know a great place on the St. Croix for dinner.”
My mind whirring, I trailed him to the Mercedes. I couldn’t explain, even to myself, how I can feel comfortable with him while knowing what he thinks of my ilk, but I can. If he is willing to leave work at the hospital, I am, too.
He put the bags in the trunk before courteously opening the car door for me and rounding the car to the driver’s side. When he dropped into his seat behind the wheel, I blurted, “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” He buckled his seat belt and turned the key in the ignition.
“If I’m so difficult, why did you spend the day with me?”
“Because, in spite of being a pain in the neck, you’re funny, cheerful and the only living human being to ever get me on a carnival ride that was ten stories off the ground.”
“So, I’m determined and relentless, too. A worthy foe.”
He glanced at me sharply. “If you’re talking about Bradshaw Medical and my opinion of birthing rooms that look like Grand Central Station, no. You can’t win that one.”
“Too bad. I thought I was getting to like you.”
“Now why would you do that?” He seemed to enjoy the repartee.
“You’re actually fun when you haven’t got a chip the size of Nevada on your shoulder. You’ve been a relatively good sport, you had patience enough to go shopping with me and you have probably been as cheerful as you know how to be.”
“That’s a ringing endorsement. I’m overwhelmed.” He pulled into traffic going east on the freeway and relaxed in his seat. A faint smile tipped the corners of his lips and lit his eyes, improving the already impressive scenery.
“Why are you nice to me outside the hospital and when we are there such a…a…”
“Swine?” He filled in the blank.
“No. I like swine. You’re a fiend at Bradshaw Medical.” I immediately felt a twinge of guilt. “No offense or anything.”
“None taken. I will always be a ‘fiend’ where my patients are concerned, particularly if I believe there is anything happening that is not in their best interest. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that.”
I could see his steely determination in the set of his jaw and, although I didn’t agree that a doula was not in a woman’s best interest, I have to admire the ferocity with which he protects his patients.
“Frankly, I’m not even sure why today happened,” he continued. Then his blue eyes began to twinkle like my brothers’ do when trying to aggravate me. “You didn’t annoy me nearly as much as you do when you’re doing your doula thing at Bradshaw.” He softened the statement with a smile as charming as the ones Noah could shower on me.
“The makings of a perfect relationship.” I sighed. “I’m sure great friendships are forged on foundations like this.”
“Tolerance and compromise. The building blocks of rapport.”
“That’s for warring countries, not human beings.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot.” He looked completely at ease as we drove across the river toward Hudson, Wisconsin.
Today Clay’s charm definitely outweighed his stubborn pigheadedness. There I go again, insulting pigs.
It was fruitless to speculate any further, so when we arrived at the restaurant overlooking the St. Croix, I made up my mind to enjoy the food and not think of the inevitability of next time Clay and I were bound to cross swords.
There was just enough wind to keep the mosquitoes from biting, and the air was comfortably warm as we sat on the outside deck overlooking the river. The St. Croix, a tributary of the Mississippi, was dotted with large boats. Everyone seemed to know Clay at the place, and he was led, without question, to be best table overlooking the river.
“You’ve been here before.”
“A time or two. I recommend the bruschetta and the artichoke dip as appetizers, the prime rib for your entrée and the chocolate cake for dessert.”
“If you think I should eat all that, we should have bought my dress a size larger.”
“Want to share?”
Share? Now that’s a concept. I come from a family in which there are always skirmishes over food. My brothers decided long ago that I, as a girl, didn’t need as much food as they did and certainly no dessert. To have a man suggest sharing an entire meal with me is an anomaly of the highest order.
“Is that deer-in-the-headlights look a yes or a no?”
“Yes, I think.”
He ordered before turning back to me. “What are you staring at?”
“You’re beginning to scare me. Who are you? Is the man at the hospital your evil twin, or what?”
He laughed and laid his hand on the table so that it brushed mine. “You’re growing on me, Molly. And I appreciate anyone who cares about my son’s feelings. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation. You turned my attitude on its head toward Noah’s birthday.”
“That was the carnival ride, not me.”
“Let’s just enjoy the evening. I’ve put the hospital out of my mind for the night. I’m not a chameleon. I know that tomorrow my attitude about having you or any doula with my clients is not going to change. I’d like to think that today is about Noah and you. What do you think?”
There was nothing I could do but agree. Today was an island in the storm.
Dusk descended into a clear, cloud-free night, and the candle on the table flickered on the planes and angles of Clay’s features. Relaxed, he looked so much like Noah that I knew exactly how Clay himself had looked as a child. Noah’s childish features would eventually take on the ruggedness of his father’s, including the finely chiseled chin and sensitive mouth.
“How is it to raise your son alone?” Had such a personal question come from my own mouth? “Sorry,” I added quickly. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
“You’ve already seen what a lousy jo
b I’ve done of his birthday in the past. It’s no wonder you’re curious.” His eyes focused somewhere behind me as he spoke.
“I didn’t think that at all!” I paused. “Well, maybe a little.”
“You’re a compulsive truth teller, aren’t you?”
“‘Truthful lips endure forever, but a lying tongue lasts only a moment.’ That’s in Proverbs. Besides, I’m not savvy enough to lie. I couldn’t keep straight what I said and to whom. Truth is definitely easier.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied me through lowered lids. “Noah’s IQ is off the charts, but socially and emotionally he’s very much a six-year-old. I’ve always been glad he isn’t one of those precocious brats that no one can tolerate. The reason I decided to leave California and come to the Twin Cities is that I think Noah will thrive here. The schools are good, my grandparents have a home here so he’ll see family and—” he smiled a little “—I like to ski, particularly cross-country. I do biathlons.”
I must have looked blank.
“It’s a combination of marksmanship and skiing.”
My eyes narrowed. “Do you hunt?”
“No. And I’m not lying just so that you won’t jump up and storm out of here. I’m not interested in killing anything. I’m a healer, remember? I am brutal to a field target, however.”
I imagined Clay on skis with a rifle strapped to his back, a rather enticing masculine image.
“You are an athlete, then?”
“Armchair type, mostly, these days, but I hope to change that this winter. I might add a little downhill to Noah’s repertoire. How about you?”
“I grew up with brothers. I played hockey, as the puck…football, as the ball…softball, as the one who had to climb the fence and go into the neighbor’s yard to retrieve the ball.” And the evening was half-over before I realized that Clay had deftly turned the topic of conversation from himself to me and kept it there.
The next afternoon Tony and Lissy stopped by with a supreme pizza, a liter of soda and an ice-cream cake. Hildy’s ears came to attention and Geranium poked her snout through the pet door at the first whiff of the food.
“What’s the occasion?”
“We’re celebrating.” Lissy put the ice-cream cake in my freezer and headed for the silverware drawer. “Tony got a promotion.”
