The final turn landed them at the entrance of Cross Creek. Something seemed so familiar to Katherine as they walked up the expanse of the flagstone curved front steps that she caught herself wrestling with a strong sense of déjà vu. Murphy opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to enter first. Together they stood in the foyer that opened up into what she thought was the most beautiful room she’d seen in her life, transfixed by the dark walnut woodwork throughout the room and the stately bookcases laden with books flanking each side of the fireplace.
She fought hard to suppress a sudden wave of dizziness, instantly sensing her father had at one time been in this very room. His hands had crafted the raw wood into works of art, and here she was, finally, seeing it for the first time. She inhaled a deep breath and tried to steady herself.
Murphy said nothing as he stood behind her with his hands gently resting on her shoulders. He was willing to stand behind her for the rest of his life if necessary, for her to understand that her father, missing now for decades, had created this beautiful room.
In a voice as soft as dew he almost didn’t hear her when she said, “I think my father…” but couldn’t finish the sentence.
With pride and affirmation, Murphy nodded and replied, “He did.”
She ventured farther into the room and reached high to delicately touch the massive layered walnut mantel, as if placing the star on top of a tree. She whispered, “You’ll never know what this moment means to me.”
When her eyes became misty, his did the same. Murphy knew then he was right in showing it to her and silently berated himself for not doing it years earlier when he first made the connection.
She studied the bookshelves, running her fingers along some of the titles. She inspected the collection of bird eggs and rocks Murphy had placed intermittently among the books. Clearly, he was beginning to rebuild his natural history collection, and she silently nodded, affirming the importance of it all.
He wasn’t certain how long they stood in that room, but he knew it was more than a minute and less than a lifetime. And when she turned to face him with a brave closed-lip smile, he said, “We can come back here as often as you wish.”
He offered her his hand before she descended the front steps of the house, and as she reached for it, she said in a barely audible voice, “My heart has never stopped missing him. I always thought I’d find him one day, or what happened to…” and when her voice faltered, she said no more.
Apparently miffed he had been banished to the outside, Baxter sat on his haunches on the first step and let out a long howl as they walked past him. One of those howling-at-the-moon scenes the coyotes do so well. They both laughed, and just like that, the heaviness of the mood was lifted.
They paused at one of the ponds on their walk back, and out of habit Murphy picked up a smooth stone and tossed it easily back and forth from one hand to another before letting it rip across the water, pulling off a fourteen-skip throw. Katherine eyed him and suddenly the twinkle in her blue eyes returned. She met his throw and upped it by one. A fifteen-skip throw.
Murphy threw his head back and let out a walloping cheer that echoed across the pond. When was the last time someone had out-skipped him? Probably forty years earlier at that same spot with his best buddy, Walt. It felt good to be young again and on the land that was so much a part of his being. He wanted to somehow rewind those difficult years when he was entombed in a miserable marriage and have a second try at living them a different way. It began to dawn on him that the years ahead could give him that chance.
Murphy was disappointed when Katherine said it was time to get back home, but it was after all late afternoon.
Reluctantly, the three of them loaded up in the truck and drove back into town. Murphy drove much slower than usual, and he contemplated aloud, “You know, this is the first time in all the years we’ve known each other that we’ve truly been alone, and I’m sorry it has taken so long.”
As if on cue, Baxter let out a loud sigh and rested his snout on Katherine’s lap. She knew if anyone happened to see them, it would be obvious how happy they were together in the old farm truck. She couldn’t imagine being any happier.
He unloaded her bike and put it away in the shed and together they walked up the flight of stairs to her apartment entrance above the clinic. When he thanked her for being his fishing buddy, things suddenly became awkward. He didn’t really want to leave her, but she offered no invitation to come inside. Baxter sat on the welcome mat at her door, his eyes begging to be taken inside. Murphy had to look away from Katherine for fear his own eyes begged the same.
“Load up, Baxter. We’ve got to run.”
Baxter didn’t budge.
“Load up, boy, let’s go for a ride.” Murphy jingled his keys as an enticement for the old dog. No luck.
“Why, you old traitor,” laughed Murphy.
Katherine held her hand over her mouth, attempting to hide her giggle, which only made Baxter thump his tail harder. She gently took him by the collar and led him back down the stairs to the cab of the truck, at which point he became his obedient self again.
She stood at her doorstep and waved goodbye as Murphy backed down the driveway and was surprised to see him hit the brakes. Hopping out and standing at his truck door he said, “I’ve thought this all day but didn’t say…I like your hair down. You’re prettier than any Breck girl I’ve ever seen.” He saw the smile and wonder spread across her face as she unconsciously touched her hair, and he waved as he drove off.
Later in the evening Murphy reached for the bar of soap at the boathouse sink and saw her wristwatch lying on the counter. He held it in his hands as if it were porcelain. Just a round clock face with an hour, a minute, and a second hand on a simple brown leather band. You couldn’t find a plainer woman’s wristwatch if you tried. Something told Murphy that if given the choice of a hundred bejeweled watches, Katherine would still select this simple design. The thought pleased him.
As tempting as it was, he did not drive back into town to return her watch. He wanted to give her some space, and he thought he’d wait until Monday morning when he would join her and Doc for coffee at the clinic. By the end of the weekend, Murphy knew all he wanted to do at this point in his life was to spend more time with her. As in the rest of it. Coffee and orange juice and flapjacks every morning, as long as she was sitting across the table…their table.
Murphy checked his hair in the mirror twice and whistled as he drove to the clinic early Monday morning. Wishing he’d brought a handful of flowers, he wondered if he could have pulled it off without Doc teasing him. And what about Doc? Wonder what he’d say about this new turn in their journey. Doc’s reaction would be pivotal.
He spotted her through the window when he pulled up to the clinic’s back entrance. She was in her starched nurse’s uniform with her hair pulled up in the chignon that worked so well with her nurse’s cap. He watched her for just a moment. Her back was to the window, but he knew her hands were busy preparing coffee in the percolator for the three of them to enjoy. His legs could barely carry him quickly enough to be in her presence again.
She turned and faced him when he walked in, and they looked eye to eye, searching to see if the other gave any indication of regret for the long hours they’d spent together just two days before.
“Good morning.” There was a brightness in her face and her voice.
Handing her the watch, he found his eyes in hers. “One of the best mornings of my life. Thank you.”
She reached up to straighten the lapel of his jacket and allowed her hand to rest there a moment as she responded, “Thank you. For everything.”
It was in that instant they both knew the direction their lives were headed and neither was afraid.
Katherine handed Murphy his coffee cup, and they settled into their usual chairs as she explained Doc’s absence. He’d taken a call in his office
about fifteen minutes earlier and, surprisingly, he was still on the line. Doc liked phone conversations to be succinct, believing a telephone call should take less time than the three minutes it takes to soft-boil an egg.
It was a welcome break from tradition for Katherine and Murphy to have a few minutes alone. He was dying to know how she spent the rest of her weekend but didn’t want to pry. Turns out he didn’t have to. She volunteered that she ate dinner at Lily Mae’s Saturday night, and the two of them talked so long into the evening that she ended up sleeping over and together they went to Bethel A.M.E. Church just as they had so many of the Sundays of her childhood.
Doc walked in with his hand outstretched, waiting for his coffee cup, just as Murphy was beginning to recount his uneventful Saturday night, and promptly the conversation broadened to three.
“You were on the phone much longer than usual. Everything in order?” Katherine asked as she dropped a sugar cube in his cup, expecting him to at least identify the caller.
Doc boomed in a voice several decibels louder than they were used to hearing from him so early in the morning, “All is good in this world of ours, and I’m certain God’s watching us! Now, let’s start this day off right and drop another cube in my cup. This is going to turn out to be a two-sugar-cube day for all of us!”
Doc’s obvious pleasure with the day set the tone, and Murphy delightedly told Doc all about the fishing conspiracy he’d discovered. “If I’d only known you’d been teaching your nurse to fish I wouldn’t have been so eager to show off my own fishing skills. She out-fished me from the start.”
Doc lifted his coffee cup in midair to prevent spillage on his lap and roared, “That’s my girl! I hate to tell you, but I think she could out-fish the professionals. She gets around a body of water and performs some kind of hocus pocus, and those fish seem to fight each other just to get on her hook. That K Syndrome’s potent even on fish and fowl.
Murphy was more than eager to add evidence to the K Syndrome. “Turns out it works on canines too. Baxter formed an alliance with her and would’ve changed residences if I’d allowed it. I’m thinking of changing his name to Benedict.”
With a grin, Doc offered some wisdom. “Son, I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this to you, but I advise you not to try to impress her with your rock skipping skills because that’s another one of her gifts.” The resulting avalanche of laughter from the other two let him know his advice was poorly timed.
“Oh, just stop, you two. Blah, blah, blah! You’re full of tomfoolery today, both of you!” Thinking she could change the subject, she added “Doc, I brought us meatloaf sandwiches for lunch with some of Lily Mae’s leftovers from Saturday night.”
That did the trick. The triad then began arguing over what constituted the best meatloaf sandwich. Mustard? Mayonnaise? A touch of catsup? A slice of onion? They debated it so long they were each on their second cup of coffee before Doc threw out an invitation.
“Murph, how’d you like to have dinner tonight?”
Murphy first looked at Doc and then glancing at Katherine he said, “I’d be honored to have dinner with you two tonight.”
Katherine’s widened eyes darted to Doc, who quickly rectified the assumption. “Just you and me, Murph.”
Trying hard to maintain the enthusiasm in his voice, he told Doc, “Sounds like a grand plan. What time?”
Katherine stood with her back to the men, washing the percolator and cups, listening as Doc instructed Murphy to be at his house at 7:00. If Doc needed to postpone or give a rain check, he would let Murphy know.
The coffee group ended just as it always had. Doc announced, “It’s time we turn this coffee house into a clinic. May the Lord bless us with wisdom and patience and an occasional patient wanting to pay a bill.”
Murphy turned to head out the door, just as he had innumerable times before. But this time he turned and gave Katherine a wink, which set off a chain of events. It made her blush and act bashful—a new look for her—and Doc witnessed it all.
He couldn’t resist. “Say, Murph, I’m looking forward to tonight, and I’m giving you an assignment for today. Go by the library and see if you can research that K Syndrome. Seems like it’s pretty potent on everyone.” Doc laughed so hard at his own joke he had to brace his portly self against the door frame while he watched Murphy chuckle all the way to his truck and drive away.
“Very amusing,” she said through a grin. “Want me to call Lily Mae and see what she can fix for you and Murphy tonight?”
“No. I think I have it all taken care of.”
“Well, need me to come over and set your table or make some iced tea?”
“Nope. I’m in good shape.”
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a way to find out what Doc was up to, but she knew old Doc Bishop well, and she could tell by the look in his brown loving eyes that he was up to something. Neither of them mentioned the dinner for the rest of their busy day, and before they realized where the day had gone, they were sending their last patient out the door at 5:30. Wanting to neither pester nor invade his privacy, Katherine hurriedly tidied the examining rooms, said her goodbye, and out the door she went.
Murphy was dressed and ready to go at 6:00 and then watched, or at least pretended to watch, Walter Cronkite’s evening news, finding it hard to concentrate. The clock eventually struck the three-quarter chime and off he went, carrying a bottle of brandy, because his upbringing required it, and because he knew Doc enjoyed a toddy from time-to-time.
Party of Three
Doc greeted Murphy at the door wearing one of his late wife’s aprons over his pleated slacks and comfortable flannel shirt. Murphy immediately detected the aroma of greens, corn bread, and what? Pot roast? Salisbury steak? Some kind of beef with a gravy. His taste buds performed a roll call.
“Alright, Doc, I’m salivating just smelling what’s coming from the kitchen.” And it was then he spotted three place settings around Doc’s dining room table.
“That’s right, there will be three of us,” Doc said as he followed Murphy’s eyes. “When I invited you I thought it would be just the two of us, but I had an offer from someone who insisted on joining us, and I didn’t have the words in my vocabulary that would allow me to tell her no.”
Doc knew instantly from the pleased look spreading across Murphy’s face that the poor guy was going to be in for a surprise. A big one. As if on cue, she headed out of the kitchen coming straight for him. Murphy made an effort to maintain his happy expression, despite knowing that this was a woman he was going to have to reckon with.
“Lily Mae! So, that’s how Doc made sure his house smelled like heaven when I walked in. Now I know how you spent your day off.”
Lily Mae walked up to him and wagged a wooden spoon in his face. “You think I’m going to let you two men folk have a dinner without me busting in? No, sir. I’m thinking we’ve got lots to talk about!” There was a grin on Lily Mae’s face, but her eyes were fixed hard on him. She was a paradox of mixed signals, and Murphy was intrigued. And anxious. He knew he was dining with the two most important people in Katherine’s life. The outcome of this evening could possibly determine how he would live out the rest of his days.
The night progressed, and the three of them enjoyed the sinfully delicious meal she’d prepared. Murphy had a second helping of everything. Doc took seconds on the greens and added a big slab of butter on his second helping of cornbread. Lily Mae ate like a bird, nibbling at everything on her plate but finishing none of it.
They had feisty conversations about the governor and the fate of Doc’s college football team. A little of this and a little of that. Doc was wise. He waited until they’d gathered in the den with plates of Lily Mae’s strawberry shortcake to begin his discourse directed entirely at Murphy.
“Murphy, Katherine spent Saturday night with Lily Mae, and they stayed up half the night ta
lking, which then prompted Lily Mae to call me early this morning. We had a good long talk, about fifteen minutes’ worth, early this morning, but I think you probably already suspected that. We have reason to think your friendship with Katherine might be taking a new turn.”
Murphy’s head nodded, and Lily Mae muttered something under her breath, which he could not understand. He glanced her way, quickly surmised he didn’t know how to read the look on her face, and immediately shifted his attention back to Doc.
“I’m certain you know what Katherine means to me. I couldn’t love her more if she were my very own. She brings softness to the hardened ones, and she brings hope to the terminal ones and I don’t just mean my patients. I mean everyone she comes in contact with. The girl has seen more than her share of hurt, and she hasn’t let it destroy her. And if you didn’t know, she’s had more than her share of men who wanted to love her. Some I approved of, but she didn’t pursue any of them. It’s been painful to see how hard some of the young men in this town have tried to get her to notice them. She’s kind to everyone, and many a young man has taken that as a sign of her interest. Hell, I wish I had kept a tally of the number of men whom I had to pull aside and advise to move on. Some people are meant to love a few, and every now and then you meet a person who was put on this earth to love them all. In all my years, I’ve never known another person with her goodness. I’d commit murder with no regrets if I ever thought anyone wanted to deliberately harm her. Do you have any idea how truthful those words are, son? I literally would be able to kill someone if they injured her in any way. She’s a strong woman. She was more mature at age seven when her father disappeared than many old people are on their deathbeds.”
Not knowing how this was going to end, Murphy looked at both and interjected, preventing Doc from continuing. “I guess I’ve known for a long time what kind of woman she is, but I never thought I was worthy of someone like her. With permission from both of you, I’d like to see where this goes. I know I’m older and I know down the road that could be unfair to her but…” He stopped and peered into both faces trying to determine if he should continue.
Letters on the Table Page 9
