by Ann McMan
Syd sighed. “And here we go. Yes. I find your company to be stimulating. But before your head swells to nine times its normal size, let me hasten to remind you that stimulating is a broad term that encompasses many forms of meaning.”
“Oh, I know what it means, all right.”
“Well, wise guy, a cattle prod is stimulating, too. And far less arrogant.”
“But not as cute.”
Syd thought about that. “True.”
“And not half as much fun to eat pizza with,” Maddie added hopefully.
“Also true.”
Maddie got to her feet. “On that happy and victorious note, I think I should drive myself home while I can still function with some degree of competence.”
“Are you sure you’re awake enough to go?”
Maddie looked down at her. “Oh, yeah.” She had plenty to think about on her drive home.
Syd stood up, followed her into the kitchen, and waited while Maddie pulled on her jacket and picked up her cell phone and keys. At the door, Maddie turned and pulled Syd into a warm hug. “Thanks for tonight. I really needed this.”
Syd wrapped her arms around Maddie’s waist and squeezed her back. “Me, too.” They stepped apart, and Syd crossed her arms over her chest. “Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you?”
Syd nodded. “Please do.”
Maddie left the small apartment and walked down the stairs to the street, feeling better than she had in weeks.
Now if she could just get Pete to forgive her.
LIZZY MAYES WAS a human dynamo.
She’d been working for Maddie for two weeks, and already she had visited all four of the Methodist congregations participating in their pilot healthcare program. Her daily presence in the clinic had borne fruit as well, and Maddie was able to see a greatly expanded patient base, taking even more strain off the emergency services department of the area hospital. The local weekly newspaper had run a series of articles about the fledgling Parish Nurse program, and Maddie’s small clinic was quickly flooded with requests for appointments—most from curious residents who just wanted an up-close look at their new neighbor from Nashville.
Lizzy had an easy and unaffected manner, and quickly endeared herself to the loquacious Peggy Hawkes. In no time, it was as if the two of them had worked together for years, and Lizzy was even able to motivate Peggy to make more determined progress at transferring patient files to the clinic’s EMR system. Maddie knew that things were going well the day Peggy showed up at work with a lemon chess pie she had made for Lizzy and her sister’s family to share.
Maddie was smart enough to have Lizzy actually sign her employment contract before she had a chance to sample the pie.
Maddie had one week left to go as acting ER Chief before Tom Greene returned full time. Having Lizzy on staff made it possible for her to keep her clinic open during regular business hours and promised to make her transition back into her normal routine easier and less hectic. She was looking forward to that, and to her upcoming trip to Richmond to attend the AMA conference. For once, she would be able to relax and enjoy the sessions without the added burden of courting pharmaceutical reps to try and interest them in funding her startup healthcare initiative. With Lizzy’s level of energy and enthusiasm for the project, she was optimistic that local funding streams would remain robust enough to sustain the effort without the need for external support. And if that changed? Well, there was always next year.
Lizzy was temporarily living with her sister’s family in Jefferson, but she was actively looking for a small house to buy. Phoebe Jenkins got wind of this through her son, and saw it as a golden opportunity to sell the small bungalow that had belonged to her recently deceased aunt.
Iris Jenkins had always been a favorite of David’s. She was a strong and independent woman who stubbornly lived alone until her death at age ninety-two. She never married. She never trusted god or doctors. She never voted. And she never read a newspaper. Right up until the day she died, she chopped all the wood she burned in her small stove—she never trusted anyone to do that for her, either. She was a catbird—that’s what the locals called her. A catbird. Growing up, David was never really too sure what that meant. He just knew that his aunt Iris was special. She never judged him—not even when he left home at age sixteen and moved in with Maddie’s father. He was never really certain if she had heard any of the rumors that led up to that last, explosive encounter with his father, but he knew somehow that even if she had, it wouldn’t have mattered to her. She was a catbird. And catbirds generally went their own way.
So when David told his mother about Maddie’s new nurse and her need for suitable housing, Phoebe quickly surmised that maybe Lizzy Mayes would be the ideal candidate to buy Aunt Iris’s river bungalow. The two women agreed to meet, and to go together to visit the property on Wednesday.
PHOEBE STOPPED BY the library at lunchtime to drop off some sheet music for Syd. There was a community orchestra concert coming up at the high school, and she had enlisted Syd’s help to work with her struggling string section. Unknown to Syd, Phoebe had a rather expansive definition of “help.” She was determined to persuade Syd to sit in with the string section during the performance—giddy at the prospect of having someone in the orchestra who might inspire the other players to a higher level of accomplishment. If that didn’t transpire, at least she would have a principal who could read music and actually play the instrument, and play it very well, as it turned out. They hadn’t had a musician of Syd’s caliber in the county since Maddie’s mother left the area over twenty-five years ago. Phoebe was hell-bent on making hay while the sun shone. This was not an opportunity to be missed.
She entered the library and saw Syd bent over a desktop computer, working with Beau Pitzer on something. Beau sat back on the legs of his chair and watched her while she typed—clearly enjoying this chance to get an unobstructed view of the attractive blonde at close range.
Phoebe clucked her tongue as she crossed the room and approached the makeshift computer lab. She was disgusted that Beau didn’t even have the grace to remove his hat. A faded red baseball cap with “Skoal” stitched across the front in white letters obscured part of his face.
“Hello, Syd. I hope I’m not too early.”
Syd stood up and turned to her with a smile on her pretty face. Beau dropped his chair forward with a thump and looked up at her with a barely disguised scowl.
“Hello, Beau. Nice to see you again. Any luck with the job search?”
He shook his head and stared at her without speaking.
“Well, don’t lose hope. I heard yesterday that the glass plant might be adding a third shift.”
He mumbled something unintelligible and looked back at his computer screen.
Syd rolled her eyes and waved Phoebe toward the circulation desk. “Why don’t we go back there and talk so we don’t distract Beau?”
Phoebe nodded. “Good idea.”
They walked to the rear of the library. Phoebe saw several other patrons sprawled in upholstered chairs reading newspapers. Zeke Dawkins, the postmaster, was at the copier running off some flyers. He waved when he saw her. Phoebe figured this had to be bad news. Any time Zeke made flyers, it usually meant the rates for something were going up.
She set her big leather bag on the circulation desk and pulled out a bulging file folder full of musical scores.
“Here you go,” she said, passing the folder to Syd. “This is what I have in mind for our next concert. Let me know what you think.”
Syd took the folder and removed the hefty orchestral scores for Offenbach’s Overture to Orpheus in the Underworld, the finale to Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 5, Copeland’s Shaker Variations, and Grainger’s Irish Tune from County Derry. She drew her brows together as she leafed through the selections and looked up at Phoebe with a perplexed expression. “Aren’t a few of these pretty advanced for our available talent?”
Phoebe shook her head. “I don�
��t think so.”
Syd did not look convinced. “Three of these call for a pretty accomplished string section. I think that might be a tall order for us right now.”
“We don’t need a strong section to play these—we just need a strong principal.” Phoebe smiled at Syd.
Syd stared at her for a moment as recognition began to dawn. “Oh no—not a chance. Forget it, Phoebe. This isn’t what I meant when I said I would help out.”
“Syd, I’ve heard you play. Any of these pieces would be a cakewalk for you. And think of the opportunity it would give you to really inspire the rest of the musicians.” She laid a hand on Syd’s forearm. “It’s exactly the kind of motivation we need to really get this group pulled together. Please. Do this. It will mean so much to the community.”
Syd hesitated. “I don’t even have anything to wear. I didn’t bring any formal attire with me.”
“You don’t need formal attire—just black pants and a white blouse.”
Syd sighed.
“Come on. I’m making David play, too—if that’s any consolation.”
“You are?” Syd narrowed her eyes. “He told me that he used his clarinet for kindling.”
“Don’t you know better than to believe anything that comes out of that young man’s mouth? It’s true that his band uniform was always more appealing to him than his instrument, but he actually plays a very good woodwind.” Phoebe smiled to herself. “It’s all the hot air, I’m sure.”
Syd laughed. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Okay. But don’t take too long. We start rehearsals on Sunday afternoon.”
“I promise. And I’ll still help with the string section, regardless of whether or not I agree to perform.”
“I can’t ask for more than that,” Phoebe said with a smile.
They looked up when the front door to the library opened. Phoebe glanced at her watch, then smiled and waved at the redheaded woman who had just entered. “Right on time.” She turned to Syd. “Have you met Maddie’s new nurse, Lizzy Mayes? I asked her to meet me here. She’s going to look at my aunt Iris’s old river bungalow.”
Syd shook her head. “No, I haven’t met her yet, but I’ve heard great things about her.” She watched the other woman approach with a curious and interested expression.
LIZZY WAS ANXIOUS to see the small, riverfront property that Mrs. Jenkins had described to her. Its compact size and isolated location appealed to her, and its rustic appointments held greater attraction for her than any of the more contemporary, ranch-style homes she’d considered that were within her modest price range.
Peggy Hawkes had already filled her in on the particulars of Iris’s bungalow, so she knew that the house did, in fact, have a conventional heating system. But, Peggy added, old Miss Jenkins had been too stubborn to use it, and preferred to rely on her wood stove for heat during the long winter months. So Lizzy agreed to meet Mrs. Jenkins at the public library during her lunch hour, so they could drive together to view the property.
She was equally curious about meeting the town librarian—a woman she had heard much about since her arrival in Jericho. By all reports, Syd Murphy was an attractive divorcée who was new to the area, and who had quickly become fast friends with Mrs. Jenkins’ son, David, and his partner.
Peggy had also hinted at some kind of special friendship that she saw developing between the librarian and the enigmatic Dr. Stevenson. Lizzy wasn’t too certain what she meant by that observation but it did seem clear that there was no implied criticism in Peggy’s remarks—although it was impossible to deny that her comments were delivered with a non-verbal wink and nudge. It didn’t really matter to her one way or another, but the vague suggestion did go a long way to explain why someone like Dr. Stevenson was still single.
When they met for the first time over a month ago, Lizzy had been surprised—even stunned—by Maddie’s appearance. For starters, she was much younger than Lizzy had expected, and although she was functionally attired in hospital scrubs, she was remarkably beautiful.
Lizzy remembered her first thought being that Dr. Stevenson looked exactly like one of the picture-perfect models who adorned the covers of glossy medical supply brochures. She found it hard that day to reconcile the accomplished professional of her Google search—the medico with the gold-plated resume—with the glamorous, self-deprecating, and quick-witted woman who sat before her conducting her interview. She was a paradox. And Lizzy, who loved puzzles, suspected that working with the engaging and mysterious Dr. Stevenson would be many things, but never dull.
As she approached the circulation desk, she saw Mrs. Jenkins engaged in earnest conversation with an attractive blonde woman, whom she assumed was Syd Murphy.
Mrs. Jenkins smiled and waved her over. “Lizzy, I’d like you to meet Syd Murphy, our town librarian. Syd, this is Lizzy Mayes, Maddie’s new nurse.”
Syd smiled brightly at her and extended her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you. Maddie has been raving about you.”
Lizzy shook her hand warmly. “Likewise. I understand that you’re new to the area, too?”
Syd’s green eyes sparkled. “Oh, I feel like an old-timer by now—the people here are wonderful at making you feel welcome.”
“I’m glad to hear that. How long have you been here?”
“Nearly five months now, but it feels like forever.” She paused before adding with a wry smile, “I mean that in the best sense of the word, too. It’s going to be hard for me to leave here when my grant funding ends next year.”
“We’ve already got other ideas about that whole scenario,” Phoebe said in a conspiratorial whisper. “We’re not sure we’re willing to let her go so easily.”
Syd rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been listening to your son? I already told him that threatening me with leg irons and an orange jumpsuit wasn’t the best way to entice me to stay.”
Lizzy laughed. She liked the perky woman. Her humor was infectious. “I’d imagine that with a little bit of creative thinking, you could make a permanent place for yourself here—if,” she added, “that’s what you wanted.”
Syd seemed to be looking back at her with interest. “I’m not sure about my long-term plans yet. But I do confess that the idea of staying on here continues to grow on me.”
Phoebe smiled at her. “And with friends who are as determined to keep you here as David and Maddie are, I can promise that you won’t get away very easily.”
Syd dropped her eyes and made no response to that comment. Lizzy began to sense that there might be some kernel of truth lurking behind Peggy’s vague suggestion. She looked forward to having the chance to see the librarian interact directly with Dr. Stevenson, so she could make her own assessment.
She caught a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and quickly turned to find that a medium-sized man in a red ball cap had walked up to stand close beside her. Uncomfortably close. She took an involuntary step backward as he stared at her without speaking.
“Did you need something, Beau?” Syd asked.
The man slowly drew his eyes away from Lizzy and turned to Syd. “The damn thing’s locked up again.”
“Okay. I’ll come take a look at it.” She looked at Lizzy, then back to Beau. “Beau, this is Lizzy Mayes, the new nurse at Dr. Stevenson’s clinic. Lizzy, meet Beau Pitzer.”
Lizzy smiled at him. “Hello, Beau. It’s nice to meet you.”
Beau nodded at her without speaking. Beneath the brim of his cap, his eyes looked her up and down.
Phoebe clucked her tongue. “Well, Lizzy. We’d better get going or we won’t have much time to look over the property.” She collected her bag and keys off the circulation desk. “Bye, Syd. I look forward to hearing from you about Sunday.”
Lizzy smiled at Syd. “I hope we get a chance to talk again soon. I really enjoyed meeting you.”
“Same here,” Syd said as she walked around the desk to join Beau. “Call me anytime. Maybe we can grab lunch or dinner soon and get b
etter acquainted?”
“I’d like that.” Lizzy smiled and turned toward the street door. As she walked out with Phoebe, she shook off her uneasy sense that the odd man in the red cap was still watching her.
VALENTINE’S DAY PROVIDED David with more than a license to offer wildly overpriced dinner packages to couples in search of special, romantic venues. It also gave him a plausible excuse for luring Maddie over to the Inn for an innocent tryst with their favorite blonde.
Valentine’s Day, he explained to the dour and doubting doctor, was also Syd’s birthday, and he had no intention of letting the occasion pass without staging a suitable celebration. They could, he explained, double-up on the special menu Michael had already crafted for the other diners, and commemorate Syd’s birthday without exerting the extra effort that he knew she would balk at under normal circumstances. Maddie smelled a rat, but relented anyway, knowing there was no way she could miss this chance to see Syd on her special day.
“Just how did you find out it’s her birthday?” she asked in surprise, when David called to share his plans for the event and invite her to join them.
“I have my ways,” he said, with smug certitude.
“Do tell? I’m all agog.”
“Agog? What the hell does that actually mean, anyway?”
Maddie sighed. “Agog. Adverb. It means a state of eager desire.”
“Ahh. Eager desire. Now I get it. Yeah, that about sums up your attitude where she’s concerned.”
“Don’t start, nimrod. Do you want me there or not?”
“Oh, like I could keep you away now that you know it’s her birthday.”
“Whatever.” They were both silent. “So . . . how did you know?”
“I ran into Gladys at the post office. She had just delivered a whopping big arrangement of birthday flowers to Syd at the library. Roses. Two dozen. Long stem. And red. Any clue what that must have cost?”
Maddie feigned disinterest. “No idea.”
“More than you make freezing warts, wise guy.”
“Charming image, David.”
