Robin Kaye Bundle

by Robin Kaye

  Annabelle smiled. “I take it you want to leave now?”

  “You don’t mind leaving a little early?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Mike whispered to his mother, who turned toward Annabelle. “That’s fine, Michael. Don’t mind me. I’ve wanted to visit with Vinny, Mona, and the children anyway. I’m sure Annabelle’s mother won’t mind you seeing her home properly, would you, Maria?”

  Mama smiled and made a shooing motion. “Go, go. Of course, you want to spend time together. I remember what it was like when I first fell in love with my Paulie.”

  Annabelle couldn’t believe her ears. Apparently, neither could Rich. They looked at each other and then at their mother. Rich laughed and stopped abruptly, ending in a grunt. Annabelle grinned, thankful she was out of reach.

  Mike pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m afraid Annabelle and I have to leave a little early. I want to take her home before I have to get back to the hospital.”

  Of course, her whole family smiled and nodded, which was good. She didn’t think Ben even noticed, which was better. If he had, she’d have hell to pay tomorrow. But Ben didn’t seem to have a problem with Rita. He looked as if he was enjoying himself, which was more than Annabelle could say.

  She gathered her purse while Mike retrieved her crutches. “Bye, Mama, Papa, Aunt Rose. Richie, will you take care of this, and let me know how much I owe you?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Take good care of that ankle. I’ll call you later.”

  “Thanks, Rich.” Annabelle rose and took her crutches. “Mike, are you ready?”

  He pulled out his wallet, and Vinny waved him off.

  “Go. Take care of your girlfriend. Come by for dinner sometime, and we’ll talk.”

  She waited for Mike as he kissed his mother good-bye and then made the rounds with her family. Papa shook Mike’s hand hard enough to make him wince. Annabelle cringed as he shook Mama’s hand. She leaned over and whispered something to Aunt Rose, who, much to Annabelle’s mortification, took Mike’s face in her hands, kissed him on both cheeks. “You’re a good boy. Everything with your job and with Annabelle will work out in time. Have faith… and make sure you got a lot of antacids.”

  Mike, who obviously wasn’t used to dealing with crazy people, seemed so out of his depth he just nodded and smiled. It was a pained smile, since Rose pinched one of his cheeks before she released him.

  Annabelle tugged on his suit jacket. “Let’s go.” She shot Aunt Rose a look that would scare most people. It always worked on Ben.

  Aunt Rose only laughed. “Don’t look at me with that tone of face. You come talk to your aunt Rose. I’ll tell you a thing or two. Not that you’ll listen.”

  Annabelle took her crutches from Mike and did her best to run out of there. They wove their way through the crowded bar, and when they hit the waiting area, Mike stopped her and ran his hand down her back. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it? My mum likes you. I knew she would.”

  She slung her purse at him. “It was a disaster! You heard my mother. And I can’t believe what Aunt Rose told you. I swear, sometimes I think the woman is a witch.”

  “She said I was a good boy, and then something about my job and you… She was weird, but nice. Hardly a witch.”

  “Yeah, you say that now. You’ve never seen her give someone the evil eye. Believe me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. She says stuff, and the next thing you know, it happens. She scares the crap out of me.”

  “You think she’s psychic?”

  “I don’t know what to think. Are we going to stand here all day, or are you going to take me home?”

  “I’m going to get a cab. Sit here. I’ll be right back.”

  When Mike returned for Annabelle, she practically ran from the restaurant. He helped her into the cab, slid in beside her, and while pulling her close, gave the cabbie the address. He liked the way she fit against him, and he never tired of touching her. He loved the way she felt, the way she smelled, and the way she tasted.

  He wanted to soak up as much enjoyment as possible before leaving her. Things at work were getting worse, but he told himself he’d worry about that after Memorial Day. Maybe spending a weekend with Annabelle would help him figure out what direction he wanted to go in on a career level and a personal level. He was paying big for a weekend off, and paying in advance. Annabelle and their relationship were worth it. Now if he could only get her to believe that.

  Tossing his lab coat on the hook in the break room, Mike opened the back door of the practice and stepped out into the alley in search of a sandwich, a cup of real coffee, and a temporary release from the hell the office had become. He was tired of all work and no life. Tired of the constant censure he received from the partners. Tired of the dirty looks, the way all conversation stopped when he entered the room. The tension in the office ran higher than the Empire State Building. When he saw Millie, he wondered if she was doing the same.

  Mike was happy to see her. He’d noticed she’d been preoccupied all morning, and he intended to speak to her and find out what was bothering her.

  “Thank God you left. I need to talk to you, but it has to be away from here.” As she talked, she backed out of the alley.

  He took Millie by the arm, stopping her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I’m worried about you.” She waved her hand, urging him to follow. She led him to a hole-in-the-wall Lebanese place a couple of blocks away. He’d worked two blocks away for two years, and he’d never noticed it.

  They grabbed a table, and a waiter brought them water. Millie pushed her menu aside. “Get the lamb kabob. It’s amazing.”

  Mike nodded his assent, and Millie, obviously familiar with the menu, ordered for both of them.

  After the waiter left, Millie took a long drink before she spoke. “I’ve never told anyone at work where I go on my lunch hour, because I don’t want to see them any more than I have to. You’re the only one I’ve brought here. No one else knows about this place.”

  “Okay.”

  “Something happened that you need to know about. When I came in this morning, I took a phone call from a Mr. Tuggle. At first, I thought he was a patient. I asked if I could help him, and he began asking a lot of questions about the practice, and more specifically, about you. When I asked what these questions were in reference to he said he was doing a survey of pulmonary practices, which would make sense, except for the questions that were specifically about you.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “He asked what kind of doctor you were, whether you were ambitious, easy to work with, knowledgeable, good with patients, that kind of thing. At first, I thought someone was trying to get you into trouble, since the partners aren’t happy with your refusal to look the other way when it comes to Dr. Meyer. But he wasn’t looking for dirt. I thought you should know someone is looking at you.”

  Their food was delivered. Mike could see why Millie ate there almost every day. The food was healthy, tasty, and reasonably priced. If that wasn’t enough of a reason to love the place, the relaxing atmosphere cinched it. He was sure if he’d been there alone, the lulling music and the trickle of the waterfall on the opposite wall would have put him to sleep. The tranquility of the place, a full stomach, and an average of four hours of sleep a night over the past three weeks had him ordering a double Turkish coffee.

  After the jolt of caffeine, he asked Millie to find out if any of the other nurses had anything similar happen to them. It didn’t sound like his partners. If they wanted to question the nurses, they’d pull them into their offices and ask. They didn’t need to hire a third party and would avoid one at all cost. Digging for dirt on him would risk uncovering something about Dr. Meyer. Still, it made Mike want to look over his shoulder.

  He’d make a point to take the business card for the lawyer Nick had recommended to him when he picked up the car. The longer Mike worked toward a partnership that would never be, the more mone
y he lost. Too bad that by getting out of a bad situation, he could be flushing away more than money. He could be flushing away the last two years of his life.

  The buzzer rang, waking Annabelle from a delicious dream. Damn, she was just getting to the good part too. Dave barked as she pulled a robe on and half hopped, half stumbled, to the intercom since she’d forgotten her crutches. “What?”

  “Is that any way to answer the door? What if I was Mike?”

  “Mike has the decency not to come by at ungodly hours unannounced.” Though he had been known to phone at ungodly hours, but that never forced her out of bed. She buzzed her mother in and unlocked the front door just in time for Mama to make her grand entrance.

  Annabelle discovered Mama scared Dave too, because he went running for the garden. She only wished she could join him.

  She made it to the kitchen before the woman in question entered. She needed caffeine, and a lot of it, if she was to survive the ordeal ahead that held all the earmarks of a maternal surprise attack.

  She made coffee as Mama placed her purse on the bar separating the kitchen from the dining area and opened the refrigerator, probably in search of milk.

  Annabelle tried to remember the last time she’d gone shopping and couldn’t. Chances are, whatever milk products were still present in the refrigerator, were not fit for human consumption. From the look on Mama’s face after opening the milk, Annabelle was right.

  “You’ll have to drink it black.”

  “And this is how you keep your house? There’s no food, you haven’t vacuumed or dusted, and you have cups and plates lying all over. You’re almost as big a slob as your sister.”

  “Supplies are under the sink if you feel the need to clean. I’ve been laid up in case you haven’t noticed.”

  The coffee machine made the last gurgle signaling its completion and not a second too soon. Annabelle opened the cabinet where the coffee cups should be only to find it bare. A glance at the sink told the whole sad story. From the look on her mother’s face, she noticed the same thing.

  “You go get cleaned up, and for God’s sake put some clothes on. I’ll wash the dishes, and then we can sit down and have a nice talk over breakfast.”

  “Not unless you have breakfast stuffed in your handbag.” She hopped to her room while her mother mumbled in Italian about a mother’s curse. What a way to start the day.

  Annabelle wasn’t interested in hearing her mother’s promarriage and children rant. She didn’t need to be at work until 11:00 a.m., and it was… geez, not even 8:00 a.m. yet. She threw on shorts and a T-shirt, eager to get through the torturous visit as soon as possible. The next time she saw Mike she was going to kill him for bringing this on her.

  She collected her crutches, choosing not to wear her air cast. She left the Ace bandage on and made her way back to the kitchen and the promise of coffee. Unfortunately, coffee had been the only thing she’d had to look forward to lately. She missed Mike. She missed waking in his arms, she missed the food he cooked, she missed the way her apartment always seemed to sparkle when he was around, and she missed talking to him.

  “You never return my phone calls. I leave messages, and I never hear from you. I read in the paper how people with broken legs die of blood clots. I almost sent Papa over to make sure you weren’t lying dead on the floor, but I decided to come myself. Someone needs to talk sense to you.”

  And it began. “Mama, I tore some tendons in my ankle. I didn’t break my leg. I’m fine.”

  Mama must have brought food, because there were bagels and cream cheese on a plate on the counter. But then, they could have been in the refrigerator. She never bothered to look in there for food. Maybe Mike had brought them on his last visit.

  Mama carried the bagels and coffee to the table, which Annabelle noticed had been set. “So, did you and your doctor have a nice time together on Mother’s Day? He’s a good man, that one.”

  Annabelle pulled a chair out, set her crutches against the wall, and sat. She took a bite of a fresh bagel and schmear. She was hungrier than she thought. “He brought me home and then went to work. I haven’t seen him since. Maybe you and Aunt Rose scared him off.” Lord knew they scared her often enough.

  “Nonsense.” Mama sipped her coffee and studied her.

  She felt like a freaking sideshow.

  “Your aunt Rose and I were encouraging. You should take a lesson from us. And you gotta be understanding of his work. He’s an important man. He works hard.”

  Annabelle wiped her mouth on a cloth napkin she’d never seen before and looked at her mother, who sat wearing an apron she was sure Rosalie never wore. Maybe her mother had given it to Rosalie so she’d have something to wear when she stopped by to torture her.

  “I am understanding. I understand you’re fishing for information, but you’re not going to get any out of me. Please, Mama, stay out of my love life. I can screw it up all by myself. I don’t need your help.”

  Mama nibbled on a dry bagel. “Why do you talk crazy like that? You finally have a nice man, with a nice job, and a bright future. You better not break his heart like you did Johnny DePalma’s. His mother called me in tears.”

  “If Mrs. DePalma called you crying, it was no fault of mine.”

  “Mike is a good man. Your aunt Rose said—”

  “Mama, I don’t want to know what Aunt Rose said. I want you both to leave Mike and me alone. I’m tired of you running my life. I might be guilty for letting you push me into an engagement with that two-timing snake. But I’m stronger now, and I won’t let you do it again. If and when I ever decide to get married, I’ll do it on my own without any input from you or anyone else.”

  She reached for her bagel only to find her plate empty. If she kept eating like this, she’d weigh two hundred pounds before she’d ever be released from ugly-boot hell.

  She sipped on her coffee and decided to let her mother have it. “Mama, I’m happy being single. I have a great apartment, a job I love, and good friends. I’m in no rush to get married.”

  Mama almost spit out her coffee. “What? You been talking to your sister? She learned her lesson and got married. You need to think about your future. You’re not getting any younger. I see the way your doctor looks at you. If you want to have children—”

  Annabelle set her empty cup on the table harder than she’d intended. “I have plenty of time to decide if I want children.”

  “Are you insane? Of course you want children.”

  “Not everyone wants children. Heck, some people shouldn’t have kids. Right now, I’m going to concentrate on myself and take everything else as it comes.”

  She smiled to herself. God it felt good to say it out loud. Mama mumbled Hail Marys under her breath and beat her chest.

  Annabelle pushed her chair back to stand. “Mama, if that’s all—”

  “I’m gonna die before I hold a grandchild in my arms, and you are to blame.”

  “Hold on. Blame Rosalie and Richie before you start blaming me. I’m the youngest. And for all you know, Rosalie might come home from her honeymoon pregnant. Why don’t you pray for that and leave me alone?”

  Mama stood and looked as if she’d been slapped. Annabelle had gone too far. She stood, grabbed her crutches, and backpedaled. “Mama, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I need to live my life on my terms, not yours.”

  “Your terms. Eh? You’ll see you’re not so different from me. I just pray you see that before you lose something precious.”

  Damn, was that a curse? Annabelle didn’t know what to say. “I have to get ready for work.”

  “Go, get ready. I’ll clean up a little before I go. I wouldn’t want your doctor to come over and find a mess like I did.”

  “Okay, bye, Mama.” Annabelle kissed her mother’s cheek and did what she was told. Maybe she hadn’t gotten that much stronger after all.

  Maddòne.

  Chapter 11

  MIKE KNOCKED ON THE EXAM-ROOM DOOR BEFORE entering. He smi
led at Lisa Tandry, who had her nose buried in a book. He checked his watch. He was running on time and was glad for it. Lisa hated being kept waiting. The busy mother of three, who worked full-time out of her home, never stopped—even when she should.

  Lisa didn’t look thrilled to have to put her book away, but she did.

  Mike scanned her chart and smiled. A nurse had written “fat” instead of her weight. “Are you giving the nurses a hard time again, Lisa? It looks as if you refused to get on the scale.”

  Lisa crossed her arms. “I’m fat. I gained thirty pounds thanks to the prednisone. You want to know how fat I am, you do the math. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to change the treatment because I look more like an elephant than a gazelle. Are you?”

  Mike stepped closer and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You don’t look like an elephant, and I’m sorry about the weight gain.”

  Lisa shrugged. “It’s not your fault, but it sure feels good to blame you. Not only does the prednisone make me want to eat everything that isn’t nailed down, it turns me into the bitch from hell. ’Roid rage is alive and well and living in my house. I swear I would have committed murder the other day if I hadn’t had my youngest in the car with me. It took some idiot two lights to make a left. I almost got out of the car and pulled him and the little kick-me-dog he had on his lap out through his opened window and beat him senseless. But then he was probably already senseless at the time, hence the rage.”

  Mike made a note of it in her file. “How are you feeling now? Back to one hundred percent?”

  “Almost. I still can’t run.”

  Mike looked over her chart. “Could you before?”

  Lisa moved from the chair to the exam table and on the way swatted him on the shoulder. Mike laughed. She was definitely feeling better. The last time he saw her, two weeks ago, they’d fought about IV steroids. He’d wanted Lisa to spend a few hours at the hospital getting a round of IV steroids because she was in pretty bad shape and IV steroids worked better and faster than oral. She told him she couldn’t possibly do that. It was her daughter’s birthday, and she was expecting twelve little girls at noon the next day, and she hadn’t decorated the house or made the cake yet. The fact she couldn’t breathe never entered her mind. They’d compromised, and she agreed to two steroid shots, one in each arm. He didn’t bother telling her she’d have a hard time hanging decorations because both her arms would be too sore to raise over her head. He figured she’d figure it out for herself.