“They don’t?” Tina widened her eyes at him and laughed.
“Hell, no.”
“So, where did you go to medical school?” Tina looked at the one wall that wasn’t covered with book shelves for a diploma. She glanced back at Ted before approaching the wall to look more closely at the framed documents. He sat stiffly, staring at her, and didn’t answer. She saw a diploma for undergraduate work at Ohio State. Then, a shock, Harvard Medical School. “You went to Harvard?”
“Yes. Why are you so surprised?”
Why was she so surprised? She didn’t know; she just was. She gave a little laugh. “Just surprised you didn’t slip it into a conversation. That’s something to be proud of.” Did most Harvard graduates set up a small family practice? She didn’t know.
“I don’t brag,” Ted said. She looked at him again. He hadn’t moved—still stiff. What was wrong with him? He looked like a mannequin in a department store. As she looked at the diploma again, he said, “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”
“Okay.” Tina moved back to the desk. “Where were we? Oh, yes, handling paper. I think we covered that pretty well. Next, let’s look at each object on your desk. I see you have a few personal mementoes. Do they ever get in your way?” But there were no pictures, which seemed a bit unusual.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, and she saw him relax.
“Pick two you like the best, and we’ll put the rest in among the books on the shelves to keep them out of your way.”
Ted picked up an acrylic box with a baseball inside signed by someone Tina didn’t know and a golf club head which had been painted to look like a duck. He set those aside. “We can move the rest.” They put five other objects on the shelves behind him.
“That’s good,” Tina said. “Okay, you have this brass calendar and clock stand, which is nice, but you also have a blotter with a calendar on it, and a clock on the wall.”
“Kind of redundant, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and you’d have more room if you put the brass stand somewhere else, or got rid of it entirely. Does it have any sentimental value?”
Ted laughed. “No. Dr. Stevenson left it here.” And he threw it in the trash. When it hit, the thump made Tina start. There had been something cold about that action, and she shivered. All her instincts and training told her something was wrong with Dr. Ted. But she’d never met anyone like him before. She admitted to herself she was both fascinated and a bit frightened by him.
She raised her eyebrows, but continued. “Okay, business-card holder—you need to keep that. Pen handy, keep that. Is that book a journal?”
“Daily log. I jot down notes and thoughts about different patients—stuff I don’t put in their records.”
“Hmm. Do you need to keep it out to remind you to do that?”
“I don’t think so—it’s just handy.”
“Ted, if you have personal stuff in there about your patients, I’d think you need to lock it up when you’re out of the office or not working, like now.”
“Oh, you have a point.”
Tina was surprised she’d needed to tell him that. She shifted in her chair, uneasy. “You have a drawer you can lock?”
“Yes, of course.” He pulled a key ring out of his pants pocket, selected one, and opened a deep bottom drawer. Quickly, he put the journal inside, then closed and locked the drawer again.
Tina looked at the desk with satisfaction. “That’s better, don’t you think?”
“Lots. This is great. How’d you learn all this?”
“Reading, mostly. Some of it from organizing my own things. I guess with modern times, it’s a lot harder for people to organize their stuff because they have so much of it. Lots of disposable income.”
“I suppose,” Ted said. “What’s next?”
“The drawers, while we’re doing the desk. Usually people have way too much in there, as well. Let’s see, I bet you have six or eight pens and some pencils you never use. I bet Dr. Stevenson left outdated forms, some papers, and other stuff you have no use for.”
“Ah, you can tell the future.”
“No, the past.” Tina laughed. “But the past impacts our future. Especially how smoothly our lives run.”
They went through the drawers and threw away about half the contents.
When Tina looked at the clock on the wall, she saw it was almost noon. “Oh, I have to run. I made a lunch date. I may be gone more than an hour, but I’ll only charge you for the time I actually work.”
“I was going to take you to lunch,” Ted said, looking disappointed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know… .”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s okay.” He struggled to smile. “Go ahead. I have some things to catch up on here.”
Tina put on her coat, took her purse, and looked at Ted. He had pulled one of the folders toward him and appeared to be reading it assiduously. “‘Bye,” she said softly.
He looked up, staring at her a moment. “See you,” he said and bent his head back down.
Tina left, a strange feeling in her gut.
When she entered La Forge, Rachel, looking worn, was already seated at a corner booth. She smiled when she saw Tina. New frown lines on her forehead and the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes marred the effect.
“You doing okay?” Tina asked as she slid into the booth.
“I’m fine. Just anxious to get on with my life. I’m tired of living in limbo.”
“I imagine,” Tina said. The waitress approached and Tina ordered a diet soda.
Brenda and Leslie arrived at the same time. Everyone greeted everyone else and got settled, drinks ordered, menus looked at, food ordered.
“You called this meeting,” Leslie said to Tina. “What’s up?”
“First, I wonder if you all had time to think about what I said about the Lunch Bunch.” She looked at each of them in turn. Brenda nodded, Leslie said “yes,” but Rachel just sat there. “Rachel?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine that they do anything except chat with each other.”
“Your mother doesn’t hover?” Leslie asked.
“Well, maybe, but I don’t see why that means anything. Lots of mothers hover.”
“Yeah,” Leslie said. “When I tell my mother she’s doing it, she says it’s her job.”
They all laughed.
“She hover over Brandon?” Tina asked. She knew the answer, but she wanted the others to hear it.
“No,” Leslie said. “That’s what’s so strange. But I think she would just say you have to be more careful about daughters.”
“Well, you do, don’t you?” Rachel asked.
“No,” Brenda said. “Sons more often die in car crashes or from other risky behavior. All girls usually do is get pregnant.”
Everyone nodded.
“Or shot,” Rachel said, softly.
No one could look at her.
“That’s a bit unusual,” Brenda said, patting Rachel’s hand. “Any news?”
It felt as if they were all holding their breath.
“The police won’t talk to us,” Rachel said, tears forming. She wiped them away angrily with her napkin. “They keep questioning Nicky, but don’t tell him anything. They did tell us the autopsy results but only said she was shot, as if we didn’t know that already.”
“How’s your mom doing?” Leslie asked.
“She’s pretty strong, but some days are better than others. And they won’t let us back in our house. They say they’re still searching it.”
That could take forever, Tina thought. But she also realized that Rachel didn’t say anything about missing her sister and seemed more upset about not being able to go home than the murder itself. Again the niggling thought came, unwanted, that Rach had murdered her own sister. Were they having lunch with a murderer?
Tina shivered. Her shrimp salad looked like an unappetizing mess right now. She took a sip of her soda. Brenda and Leslie were eating—no one knew what
to say to Rachel.
“Well,” Tina said at last, clearing her throat. “What do you think? Should we try to find out if the Lunch Bunch has a deep, dark secret and what it is?”
“Sure,” Brenda said. “I’ll ask my mother why they only meet once a month and never see each other otherwise.”
“I’ll do the same,” Leslie said.
“I already asked mine,” Tina said. “She stonewalled me. Rach?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think I can ask my mother right now. It might upset her.”
“And you don’t think there’s a secret anyway?” Tina asked.
Rachel shrugged. “Not really. And if there is, maybe we’re better off not knowing.”
Brandon had mentioned that. But Tina felt her usual stubbornness take hold and she wasn’t giving up.
“You think it’s something bad about us?” she asked.
“I don’t think there is one. I’m just saying … “
“Rachel has a point,” Leslie said. “If there’s a secret they’ve never told us, it couldn’t be good, could it? Otherwise, they’d share it.”
“I still want to know,” Tina said, spreading the uneaten salad on her plate around with her fork.
“So do I,” Brenda said. “Leslie?”
“Yeah. It’s really sort of been bugging me for a while. All that insistence of those awful yearly checkups when I think I’m too young to worry about it. Always asking me if I feel okay.”
“Same here,” Brenda said. “I wonder what’s with that. I’m a nurse. Of course I know the importance of checkups, but my mother starts in a month or two before I’m due, asking if I have an appointment.”
“Mine does that, too,” Rachel said softly, looking surprised. “And she always wanted to know where I was going, especially before I was married. I had a strict curfew. Crystal did, too, but sometimes she defied Mother and stayed out late. Then she was grounded for a week. It seems as if we were lectured every few weeks about not having sex before we were married.”
Rachel lapsed into silence, and the others sat, thinking their own thoughts for a few moments.
“Playing devil’s advocate,” Leslie said, “I’m sure there are lots of other mothers out there who are the same way.”
“Not so many anymore, I don’t think,” Tina said. “Most work. Most don’t have time to hover. And I don’t think most get together monthly with other mothers who do the same thing.”
“It’s still not that much to go on,” Rachel said.
Hiding her head in the sand, Tina wondered?
“And I just don’t think I can talk to my mother about this right now.”
“That’s okay, Rach,” Tina said. “But Leslie and Brenda, will you ask your mothers?”
“Sure,” Brenda said. “My mother doesn’t scare me! Oh, Rach, not that I think yours scares you. I just meant I’m okay with talking to mine about this.”
Rachel nodded. “Well, I admit, sometimes my mother does scare me. I guess I need to get over that.”
At least Crystal was gone so the two of them couldn’t gang up on Rach anymore, Tina thought, then realized what a horrible thought that was. Poor Crystal had been murdered!
Leslie took Rachel’s hand. “Standing up for yourself is good. I recommend it.”
“Maybe we should get together every so often ourselves,” Brenda said. “We could be the Lunch Bunch, Junior Size.”
They laughed.
“Not a bad idea,” Leslie said. “Y’all are kinda nice,” she drawled.
More laughter.
“And we have so much in common,” Tina said.
“Apparently so,” Leslie said. “Well, I have work to do. Want to do this again in, say, two weeks? Same time, same place?”
“Sure,” Brenda and Tina said together.
“I’ll come,” Rachel said.
“Great.” Leslie stood up.
As Tina stood, she saw Hank in the doorway. He gave the group a surprised look, which surprised Tina. It took a lot to astonish Hank.
CHAPTER 18
“Oh, there’s Hank,” Brenda said. They waited while he approached. Tina felt as if they all held their breath.
Someone murmured “Hank the Hunk,” but Tina couldn’t tell who.
He said hello to everyone. Tina could feel the electricity he generated among them all. She felt her own heartbeat quicken. Something in his expression held her while the other three women left, chattering.
“You have a minute?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He gestured to the table and they sat down. The waitress came quickly and asked if they wanted anything. Hank ordered a Scotch. The waitress cleared the table then left to place his order at the bar.
Hank wouldn’t meet Tina’s eyes, and he looked more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting her hand over his on the table.
He sighed and grasped her hand. “It’s Mitzi. I’m worried about her.”
Ever since Tina could remember, Hank and his sister had called their mother by her first name. And it had seemed to her, growing up, that they looked after Mitzi more than she looked after them, except for her constant harping on Sally to take care of herself. Mitzi kept a beautiful home, but Sally and Hank seemed to cater to her and worry about her more than Tina’s other friends did their own mothers. Tina could remember Hank so clearly as a child. Self-contained but sometimes fierce, no one ever challenged him, picked a fight with him. He looked not much different in the face than he had then. Now, his body was another matter.
Tina looked into his eyes. They looked sad, old. The urge to hold him overwhelmed her. He had no father, his sister had died in her twenties, and his mother had something wrong with her that Tina had hesitated to name until she’d seen her in the store. Her mind acknowledged Mitzi was clinically depressed, but her heart didn’t want to hear it.
“You talked to her yesterday, in the shop. What did she say to you?”
“She seemed fine, Hank. I told her about starting my business and asked her if my mother had mentioned it. She said yes, the other night, playing cards. I asked if that was going to be a regular thing, and she got a bit vague, said something about she imagined so, and then you showed up.”
“Yes. You saw how she was dressed?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t get her to keep her hands clean.” His voice was harsh, anguished.
“Oh, Hank.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. Is she seeing someone—a therapist?”
He laughed, but not because he was amused. “Several, over the years.”
“She got this way after Sally died?” Tina asked tentatively.
“She got worse after Sally died, but then within a year she lost my father. She was always… fragile. I think you know that.”
Tina nodded. “What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. I’ve thought of asking you to visit her, maybe once a week. But I don’t know if that would make her feel better or worse.”
“I’d be happy to do that! We could try it and then you can decide if she’s doing better after seeing me.”
“Would you?” He looked into her eyes as if to see if she was just humoring him. “More as a friend than a therapist?”
“Yes, Hank. I would. I’ve always been fond of Mitzi.”
“I was thinking of bringing you by a few times, and sometimes you could go alone—maybe she’d open up to you alone.”
Tina’s chest hurt. She coughed, but it didn’t ease it. “I’m working today,” she said, “but we could do it this evening or tomorrow, since it’s Sunday.”
He smiled for the first time since he’d come into the restaurant. “How come I knew you’d help?”
“Because I’m a pushover?”
“Yeah, there’s that. In this case, I’m glad.”
“So am I.” She thought she’d drown in his eyes.
The waitress brought his drink, lingering to ask if they needed
anything else. She also seemed to have trouble taking her eyes off Hank.
When she finally left, Hank took a grateful sip of his Scotch, then made an obvious effort to relax.
“So, tell me about work,” he said. “You like it so far?”
“Oh, yes. Everyone has been so nice. I find Dr. Ted a bit odd … “
Hank narrowed his eyes. “In what way?”
“Can’t put my finger on it. He’s watchful, not too forthcoming about his past. Not like anyone I’ve ever met before. I admit, he makes me a bit uneasy.”
“How?” Hank’s question sounded like a gunshot.
Tina shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know, Hank. I think he’s attracted to me, but it doesn’t feel good for some reason, like it usually does when you know someone likes you.”
“You have good instincts, Tina. Pay attention to them. If this guy makes you uneasy, keep your distance.”
“Okay,” Tina said, her voice small. She wished she hadn’t brought it up. With all her training, she couldn’t figure Ted out. She thought he was a liar, but what else?
Again, Hank made a visible effort to relax. “Don’t mind me. I’m a bit wound up about my mother, and it’s probably making me jittery about everything else.” He finished his drink and stood up. “I’ll call you tonight to set up a time to visit Mitzi tomorrow.”
Tina stood, too, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t ever remember a time when Hank had apologized to her about being wound up. She couldn’t remember him ever being so uptight before. Intense, yes, but not physically tense.
“It’s okay. I’ll be glad to help with your mother if I can.”
Hank threw a bill on the table, and they walked outside onto Bellevue Avenue. He had parked right in front of the restaurant. Tina never could figure out how he always seemed to find a parking space so close to where he was going. “Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Across the street, way down by the other shops.”
“I’ll drive you over. Hop in.”
Tina smiled and climbed into his Jaguar. It smelled of leather and his aftershave—bay rum, she thought. “What kind of aftershave do you use?” she asked impulsively while buckling up.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Why do you ask?”
“So I can give you some for Christmas. No, really, I’m just curious. Whatever it is, I like it.”
Organized to Death Page 10
