by Ann McMan
“Great,” Michael said, “that’s four for pie. C’mon, David,” he dropped his voice, “I think your work here is through.”
David chuckled as he walked off with Michael.
“Did I hear Michael call you doctor?” Janet asked.
Maddie’s blush was starting to subside. “Yes, you did.” She carefully set her toolbox on the floor and slid it beneath her chair.
“Small engine repair isn’t the only thing she excels at, Mother,” Syd added, wryly. “Maddie is our local physician.”
“Really?” George asked, surprised.
Maddie’s expression was apologetic, but her blue eyes twinkled. “I hope you’re not too disappointed, Mr. Murphy. I can still wear a set of greasy coveralls with the best of them.”
“I’ll just bet you can,” he said, and nodded enthusiastically. “Please, call me George.”
Janet clucked her tongue.
George sobered and cleared his throat, adopting his most fatherly persona. “So it’s obvious that you two girls are friends?”
The two girls in question exchanged shy glances.
“I remember now that Jeff mentioned something about meeting the local doctor when he visited Syd here last month.” He smiled at Maddie. “I confess from his description, I envisioned someone crustier—more of a Marcus Welby type. You’re a bit of a surprise.”
“Dad—” Syd began.
He raised his hand to stave off her impending caution. “It’s okay, honey.” He met her eyes. “I know better than to listen to much of what Jeff has to say.”
Syd gave him a grateful smile and seemed to relax a bit.
Their server arrived with four generous slices of pie and a fresh pot of coffee. Maddie smiled when she noticed that her plate contained something different than the pumpkin pie the rest of them were having.
“So, Maddie,” Janet said, smiling as she picked up her dessert fork. “Tell us about yourself.” She glanced at Syd. “Let’s see what else Jeff got wrong.”
There was an awkward silence as Syd looked back at her mother with an unreadable expression on her face. Neither Syd or Maddie seemed to know quite how to respond to Janet’s statement.
“Yes, Maddie,” George said. “Are you a local like David?” He saw Syd relax just a bit.
Maddie nodded. “I am—although I spent most of my childhood in California with my mother. I came back here to take over my father’s practice about eighteen months ago—shortly after his death.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” George said quietly.
Maddie smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“Where were you before returning to Virginia?” he asked.
“Philadelphia. I went to med school at Penn and did my residency at Presbyterian. After that ended, I stayed on there as assistant ER chief.”
“Really? That’s pretty impressive. I’ve actually been to Presbyterian. That’s a huge hospital.”
Janet gave him a perplexed look. “When was that?”
“Remember when I participated in that sustainability summit at Drexel two years ago?” She nodded. He looked at Maddie. “I was sharing a cab back to my hotel with another speaker, and he had a heart attack—in the car. The driver took us to Presbyterian. Kudos to you for the quality of treatment he got there in the emergency room. I have to say it shattered a lot of my stereotypes about big city hospitals.”
Maddie gave him a wry smile. “It must have been my day off.”
Syd swatted her on the arm. As Maddie laughed and dodged her assault, George realized that this was a fairly typical interaction between them, and he marveled at Syd’s playful and proprietary demeanor toward the seemingly more reserved doctor.
Maddie composed herself and regarded him once again with her amazing blue eyes. “I hope your friend fared all right?”
“He did. He raves to this day about the quality of the care he got there.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We don’t often get feedback on the success stories.”
“Coming back here must have been quite a change from such an urban environment,” Janet interjected. “I can’t imagine the adjustment it must have been.”
“Still is,” Maddie added, thoughtfully. “I have to confess that the most frustrating part is figuring out how to extend care to all of our underserved populations. There are people living in remote areas of these counties who have never had access to even the most rudimentary kinds of health care. My father struggled with that, too.”
“I can only imagine,” Janet said. “Margaret may have told you that I’m a public health nurse, so I can empathize with your frustration level.”
Maddie eyed Janet with interest. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in alternative employment in a picturesque part of the Blue Ridge state?”
Janet laughed. “Not so much. Baltimore County is rustic enough for me. Are you looking for a nurse?”
“I might be. Back in Pennsylvania, I was involved with a parish nurse program in the Lehigh Valley. The nurses there networked through area churches, and were able to deliver basic, on-site preventative care to scores of people who otherwise would have had none.” She paused in reflection. “It had a tremendous effect on the overall general health of the region. I’d love to be able to imitate those successes here.”
Janet leaned forward, caught up in Maddie’s enthusiasm for the idea. “Have you been able to generate any interest for the idea?”
Maddie nodded. “Some. I’ve had a positive response from one of the local Methodist ministers. His circuit includes four congregations in several of the more remote areas. I’m able to have my clinic underwrite part of the expense to hire a trained R.N., but I need to secure more funding to move ahead with the program.”
Syd seemed intrigued. “How about the state? Are there other funding sources akin to the one that’s paying my rent these days?”
Maddie shook her head. “My petition to the general assembly for funding met with a fair amount of interest, but little promise of money.”
“What about private sources?” George asked.
“Funny you should ask,” Maddie replied. “I’ve become desperate enough to prostitute myself to a couple of pharmaceutical company reps at the next AMA conference. It’s conveniently being held in Richmond this year, so it’ll be easy to hop up there for a day or two.” She sighed. “I’ll have to see how compelling I can be, but just between us, I’d rather put a sharp stick in my eye than have to fawn on these guys. So many of them are little more than glorified snake-oil salesmen.”
George chuckled at that. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I think you’ll fare just fine.”
“Just let David handle your wardrobe,” Syd said. “I’ll guarantee that you’ll come back flush with funds.”
Maddie looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Are you kidding? If I let David manage my attire I’d be flush all right, but it wouldn’t be with funds.” She paused. “At least, not with anything larger than one-dollar bills.”
Syd snorted. George saw how Maddie’s eyes softened as she looked at his daughter. He glanced at his wife. Janet met his gaze. She noticed it, too.
“When is this conference?” he asked.
“Late March. I’m going to hop up there on a small plane so I can minimize my time away from the clinic.”
George looked at Syd. “Don’t you have to go to Richmond in March, too, honey?” Janet kicked him under the table. “Owww. Hey. Why’d you do that? She does have to go—don’t you, baby?” Janet rolled her eyes at him.
Syd glowered at both of her parents. “Yes, I do.” She gave Maddie an apologetic look. “I have to meet with the trustees of my grant sometime in March, and present my six-month report.”
Maddie seemed to consider this information. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d consider going with me.”
George sat back smugly, still rubbing his sore shin.
Maddie and Syd shyly smiled at each other.
“I thought it might just be a nice
reprieve for you,” Maddie said, quietly, “and I’d certainly enjoy the company. Now that I know you have to go, too, I think it’s a no-brainer.”
Syd nodded. “Going together might be a no-brainer, but I don’t know about that small airplane part.” She squinted. “Is the pilot experienced?”
Maddie sighed. “Very.”
“And you can promise me that you haven’t had your sticky mitts or your tools anywhere near the engine?”
“I don’t have sticky mitts.”
“Your tools, then.”
“What about my tools?”
“Can you promise me that your tools haven’t been anywhere near the engine?”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“So you have worked on it?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Well, then, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I always travel with my tools, and my medical bag. Since I do, occasionally fly on small aircraft, it would be false to say that my tools have never been anywhere near the engines.”
Syd’s exasperation was starting to show. “Why is getting a straight answer out of you like watching a rerun of Perry Mason?”
“Beats me. It’s not my fault if you can’t ask a direct question.”
“Okay, wise guy.” Syd leaned toward her and raised a menacing finger. “Can you tell me, unequivocally, that the engine on this airplane, in part or in total, has never been on or near your workbench at the farm?”
Maddie thought about that.
“Well?”
“Yes.”
“Yes? Yes, what?”
“Yes, I can tell you that this engine has never been on or near my workbench at the farm.”
Syd sat back and heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally.” She looked at her mother. “Your witness.”
AFTER DESSERT, THE group decided to give in to George’s entreaties for a walk outside. Most of the pathways behind the Inn were clear—or at least passable—and David happily lent George a pair of his foul-weather overshoes. The women were already wearing boots.
Maddie’s earlier surmise was correct, and the night was clear and very cold. White moonlight reflected off the snow, and an eerie quiet hung over the landscape as they meandered away from the Inn and its warmer circle of yellow light. Drifting mounds of snow made the pathway narrower than usual so they walked two abreast, with George and Janet taking the lead.
Syd tucked her chin lower into the red scarf that she had loosely wrapped around her neck. She glanced at Maddie and bumped her playfully as they slowly walked along. “Thanks for staying. I know this probably isn’t what you had in mind for the evening.”
“No. But that doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself.”
“Even though your emergency ended up being a complete red herring?”
“Especially because my emergency ended up being a complete red herring.” She laughed. “David drives me insane, but sometimes, he actually dupes me into doing things that end up being good for me. I think this is a case in point.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I really wanted you to meet my parents but I didn’t want to intrude on your privacy.” She laughed nervously. “Well, not any more than I normally do.”
Maddie looked at her. “Why would you think that?”
“Why would I think what?”
“Why would you think that you intrude on my privacy?”
“Are you saying that I don’t?”
Maddie sighed. “Have we lapsed into another game of Twenty Questions? Of course I don’t think you intrude on me. Where would you get such an idea?”
Syd rolled her eyes. “Hmmm. Let me think . . .” She tapered off until Maddie groaned. “But really, David’s Weimaraner analogy isn’t so far off the mark.” She paused. “Well, with the possible exception of the flannel bedding part. But then, I’ve never actually seen your sheets, so I can’t be sure about that.”
Maddie raised an eyebrow in challenge. “We could remedy that mystery in short order.”
Syd had stopped to brush some snow off the surface of a birdbath that stood next to a stand of holly bushes. She looked up at Maddie with a perplexed expression. “How?”
Maddie just stared at her. “Is this what they call a legally blonde moment?”
Syd looked back at her with a blank expression before realization hit. “Oh, good god.” Without thinking, she dipped her gloved hand into the icy water and splashed some of it at the smirking Maddie. “You can be such a jerk sometimes.”
Maddie just laughed as she ducked out of the way. “So I’ve been told.”
“Damn you,” Syd said as she peeled off her soggy glove. “Now this thing is soaked. My hand is gonna freeze.”
Maddie stepped closer. “Stick your hand in your pocket.”
“I don’t have any pockets.”
“Well, I’d offer you one of my gloves, but, unfortunately, they’re on the console of the Jeep.”
Syd noticed for the first time that Maddie had been walking along with her hands shoved deep down into the pockets of her overcoat. She glanced ahead to where her parents were veering off on a path that led down toward the river.
“Do you wanna go back to the house?” Maddie asked.
Syd looked up to meet her eyes. Even in the moonlight, she could see how blue they were. “No. Let’s go on. I can wrap it in my scarf.”
Maddie took another step to stand just beside her. “I’ve got a better idea.” She took hold of Syd’s cold, wet hand and pulled it into the pocket of her coat. Instead of releasing it, she held it there, and covered it with her larger, drier hand. “Better?” she asked, at very close range. Her frosty breath hung in the air between their faces.
Syd felt a tingle spread up her arm from where their hands were clasped together in the warm confines of Maddie’s pocket. She nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Her voice was husky. She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
She felt Maddie’s fingers tighten around hers. “Let’s see if we can catch up with your folks before they reach the river. I’m not sure I trust your father to stay away from any thin ice he might encounter in the dark.”
Syd nodded as they set off down the path walking very close together. “He isn’t the only one you need to worry about.”
“What do you mean?”
Syd laughed nervously. “Let’s just say that he isn’t the only Murphy with a penchant for skating on thin ice.”
They walked in silence along the river path, closely huddled together. The only sound came from the crunch of snow and loose gravel beneath their booted feet.
WHAT ON EARTH were you thinking?” Janet whispered, glancing nervously over her shoulder to be certain that Maddie and Syd were still out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” George asked, innocently.
“Don’t give me that, George. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t play twisted games like this with people’s emotions. Margaret is in a fragile place right now, she doesn’t need to have anyone pushing her into something she’s not ready for.”
“How do you know what she is and isn’t ready for?”
“I know my daughter. She’s confused—and scared. Her marriage has just ended, and she’s feeling lost and vulnerable. It’s ludicrous for you—or anyone—to push her toward something that may not be right for her.”
He waved his free hand in exasperation. “Well, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m certainly not pushing her into anything—other than pursuing a healthy friendship with a strong and stable woman.” He stopped and looked at her. “How could she not be ready for that? You know how isolated she kept herself when she was with Jeff. Maddie seems . . . good for her.”
“Come on. You heard what Jeff told us about Syd’s special friendship with the town doctor. Admit it. You were as shocked as I was when she showed up tonight, and we realized who she was. My god, your jaw about hit your dinner plate.”
He paused. “Okay. Yes, I was surprised to learn that Syd’s
so-called, special friend wasn’t an older man. But beyond that, I don’t lend any credibility to anything Jeff has to say about our daughter.” He stared at her. “Besides, you’d have to be nuts to think that woman was . . . well . . .”
“Gay?” Janet asked.
“Well. Yeah.”
Janet sighed and pushed her short, graying hair back from her face. “I’m reluctant to agree with you because I hate to endorse such a ridiculous stereotype.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He looked wounded.
She linked her arm through his and started walking along the narrow path again. “Honey, being gay isn’t a one-size-fits-all proposition. Lesbians now come wrapped in lots of fabrics besides flannel.” She smiled at him. “And don’t forget her toolbox.”
He jostled her. “Now who’s tossing out the stereotypes?”
She laughed, and they walked along in silence for a moment. In the distance, Janet could hear the rush of the river as they edged closer to its bank.
“Do you really think she might be gay?” His voice was so low she had to bend her head to hear him.
“Who? Maddie?”
“No. Margaret.”
She was stunned by his directness. “I thought we were talking about Maddie.”
“I think we’re talking about both of them.”
She sighed and lifted her gloved hand to his face. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t think she knows, either. That’s why we can’t push her. I did that once, and look how it turned out.”
“You mean her marriage to Jeff?”
“Yes. I blame myself for that. It was clear that she wasn’t ready for it. I have to accept that she may never be ready for it.”
“So what do we do?”
“Just love her, and give her the space she needs to figure things out on her own timetable.”
He nodded. “And you’ll be okay with any outcome?” he asked. “Even if it involves a certain six-foot-tall brunette with blue eyes and a killer smile?”
She sighed. “I guess I’d have to be. I mean, beggars can’t be choosers.”
