Radio Rose (Change of Heart Cowboys Book 1)

by Stephanie Berget

  “He kept his first few surgeries secret from the Catholic nuns who operated the hospital. He was afraid they wouldn’t approve,” Adam said then continued to tell her all he’d learned.

  In a town as small as Trinidad, there were people who were vehemently against the operation, thought it was the devil’s work, and people who just thought it was weird. Everyone had an opinion.

  Dr. Biber completed more operations than any other doctor in the world at the time, all the while maintaining his family practice. He’d delivered many of the babies in the area.

  “Is he still here?” Rose asked.

  “No, he retired in 2003 at the age of eighty and died two years later. Another doctor bought his practice. That’s who we need to see.” The new practice could tell them if there was even a need for what they were going to propose.

  “I’ll call for an appointment with the hospital liaison as soon as possible,” Adam said as they gathered the plates and glasses and headed into the house.

  “I need to get ready for work.” She stopped, turning to Adam as he was rinsing the dishes. “The old saying about learning something new every day is true, but this is so far beyond new.”

  -#-

  After riding the elevator to the third floor, Rose and Adam were ushered into a small, beige room and seated at an equally small table.

  “This is such a long shot,” Adam said.

  “It’s one we have to take. It could work.” Rose shifted in her chair at the sound of the door opening.

  A woman hesitated in the entryway, looking them over. She was a stately figure, tall with her hair pulled into a classic chignon. With a curt nod of her head, she crossed the room and took a seat. “I’m Marie Mason, the liaison for Trinity Community Hospital. What can I help you with?” she asked in a cultured voice.

  “My grandfather was Simon Howell.” He noticed tension overtake the professional look on her face. “Relax, Ms. Mason. I am not my grandfather. I’d like to propose an idea that might help us both.”

  “Just how do you presume to make things better for this hospital, Mr. Howell?”

  “First, my name is not Howell, it’s Cameron. I hope by the time we’re done, you’ll feel comfortable calling me Adam. This is my friend, Rose Wajnowski. We have a problem, and I think you can help us.” At the skeptical look on her face, he hurried to fill her in on the idea he and Rose had spent the last few nights polishing.

  When he finished, he was out of breath, like he’d run wind sprints. “Unlike my grandfather, I’m not totally self-centered. Do you think there’s a need for this? Could we make a place where Dr. Bowers' patients could find acceptance, or at the very least tolerance, while they are waiting for and recovering from their operations?”

  Ms. Mason regarded them for a moment, uncertainty clearly defined on her face. When she spoke, her voice held a confidential tone, and she stared at her clasped hands. “When I came here, I was forced to leave two motels when the rumor got around I was becoming my true self. They thought whatever was wrong with me might rub off on them, I guess. I’m not saying everyone around here is bad, but some are so prejudiced.” When she looked up, her professional face was back in place, and the insecurity was gone.

  Adam met her gaze. Her cool manner was intimidating. If she didn’t go along with their plan, he was out of ideas. “I won't lie to you. I’m not totally doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I have to make the floral shop and the motel profitable. If that doesn’t happen, all the companies will go broke. This isn’t a sure thing for us, even with your help.”

  “We came up with the idea to help save our friends’ businesses,” Rose said. “When we met some of your former patients and heard their stories, well, no one should be treated with such disrespect.”

  Ms. Mason sat back in her chair, her hands neatly folded on the tabletop. “I’ll talk to Dr. Bower, but I don't see any reason why we couldn't at least tell our patients about what you have to offer. It sounds delightful. I think I’ll drop by the flower shop myself.”

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Mason. Maybe this will work out for all of us.”

  The woman sat forward and looked at them for a moment, her dark eyes shining. “Call me Marie, and I hope you’re right.

  Chapter Twelve

  From the first moment they’d met, Sonja and Rose had been comfortable with each other in a way that Rose usually needed years to achieve. Easy conversation flowed between them like a brook after a rainstorm. Sonja had become not only a buddy, but as close to family as Rose had in this world. Today Rose was pleased to be able to help her friend.

  As she pulled up in front of the flower shop, there was Sonja, dressed in her finest baby-blue polyester dress, black patent leather pumps, and a matching purse.

  “You look great,” Rose said as Sonja climbed into the car.

  On a normal day Sonja would have told Rose where she’d purchased the clothing and what a great bargain she’d found, but today Sonja sat quietly, her hands clenched in her lap, her knuckles white where they wrapped around the handle of her purse. Her body was stiff, the trembling of her lips the only movement.

  “Are you ready to become a radio personality?”

  “Ja.” The word came out as a whisper, soft and short. “No.”

  Rose had known Sonja was nervous about appearing on the radio, most people were, but the look on her face said it was more than nerves. Sonja was terrified.

  She needed to bolster her friend’s confidence and quickly. “We’re going to have fun today,” Rose said. “You’ll see.”

  “If you say so, Rosa.” Sonja said, a smile barely working its way onto her tense face. “I don’t know about this. My heart tells me to stay home. I know plants. I don’t know radio.”

  “Sonja, I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is talk.”

  “Ja. That is what I worry about. What if I forget everything and ruin your radio program like I’ve ruined my Elvin’s store?” Her tiny body shrank into the seat, as if by sheer willpower she could disappear.

  Reaching across the console, Rose patted her hand. “You didn’t ruin the shop. You couldn’t ruin anything if you tried.”

  Sonja didn’t answer. She stared out the window, silent and still as a statue.

  The rest of the trip passed without a word spoken.

  When they finally arrived at the station, Rose parked Miss Cool then led Sonja across the parking lot and down the hallway into the broadcasting room. Good thing she’d gotten them here a few minutes early. Hopefully, Sonja would have time to acclimate.

  “Here is the microphone, and this is the console.” Rose had just begun to point out the rest of the equipment when Sonja interrupted her.

  “Look at all the buttons and lights.” Sonja waved her arm to indicate the apparatus. “This is not for me. I should go home.” She turned and started for the door.

  Rose’s heart melted at the wide-eyed, anxious look that had covered the small woman’s face. “Come here,” she said, touching Sonja’s shoulder and stopping her escape. "You won't have to use any of this. All you have to do is tell your stories. I'll take care of everything else. I promise."

  “Are you sure?” Sonja asked, the abject terror of a minute ago still there but beginning to fade.

  “I’m sure. Come sit down.” Rose led Sonja to the desk then saw a problem. They had a size large chair for an extra-small woman. “That’s not going to work very well, is it?”

  Sonja climbed into the chair, her feet a good foot above the floor.

  Rose took the pillow Irwin used from the desk drawer and turned back to her friend. That’s so cute was the first thing that popped into her head, but she had enough self-control to keep the thought to herself. She settled the pillow behind Sonja’s back and tucked Irwin’s velvet-upholstered footstool beneath her feet. “Now it fits you like you were made to be here.”

  “I don’t think a simple pillow will fix me,” Sonja said, but a ghost of a smile covered her lips.

  Rose
took a minute to adjust the mike then as the auto insurance commercial ended she smoothly began her introduction.

  “Today we have a treat for our listeners. This is the first episode of our new weekly show, Story Time with Sonja.” Rose quickly told the listeners a little about Sonja's background then started things off by asking Sonja to tell a story.

  Sonja opened her mouth. When nothing came out, she closed it again, tears filling her eyes. Desperation flowed from every pore.

  Rose covered Sonja’s hand with hers and continued on as if this was the way she’d scripted the show. “East of the Sun and West of the Moon is one of my favorites. Could you tell our listeners that one?”

  The tiny woman looked into Rose’s eyes, and her panic faded a bit. She stumbled over words in the first few sentences and got lost once and had to start over, but story telling was a centuries old tradition in her country, and now that she’d begun, she wasn't about to let all of her ancestors down. Within a short while, the joy of telling the old story came through in her words.

  Next, Sonja wove a tale of a woman searching for her Prince and the Witch who tried to keep them apart. Her high-pitched voice calmed as she talked, and she relaxed. The quarter hour flew by, and neither woman was ready to quit when the time was up.

  “That’s all for today, but we’ll be back at two p.m. on Wednesday with Story Time with Sonja. Thanks for listening and have a great week.” Rose started the commercial and relaxed.

  "How about we get you a half hour next time?" Rose said, turning to Sonja.

  "That would be wonderful,” said Sonja, the lilting Norwegian accent stronger. "It’s good talking about the old country. It brings back wonderful memories."

  Several advertisements for Fairy Time Flowers and Story Time with Sonja had been run on the radio. Maybe the on-air time would bring in more customers. If even a few people heard about the shop, Sonja’s flower sales might rise.

  When Rose got back to the house after dropping Sonja off, Adam was waiting. “Your radio was tuned to KTLY today, and I listened to Sonja's show,” he said. “I’m still not sold on people being interested in what she talks about, but if you say so, I trust your opinion. Would she want to do a longer show?"

  "Just try and stop her. She was scared at first, but now she’ll tell stories as long as anyone will listen. And as for ratings, we need to do an on-site broadcast. She has her original costume and can do the dances from the festivals of her youth in Norway. If people see her, they’ll fall in love with her.”

  Adam thought for a moment then a smile spread across his face. "We need her to broadcast for at least a month before we do the live show. That way, she’ll have a small following."

  Rose agreed, and they laid out a schedule of programs. Storytime with Sonja would start with a show at three p.m. every day. It would be up to Rose to ferry her to the station and back.

  Rose picked up the phone and called her friend. “We’ve got you scheduled for half an hour, five days a week. Is that okay?”

  “Ja, gut. I have already written a list of my favorites,” Sonja said.

  “I can’t wait to hear them.”

  "Thank you my dear Rosa. To think, at my age I'm going to be a celebrity."

  Twenty-four hours later, the memory of Sonja’s tinkling laugh filled Rose with happiness. Even if their plans didn’t work out for Adam’s businesses, Rose considered herself so far ahead. She’d met amazing people and made good friends, Adam being the best. Her thoughts switched to Adam, but she caught herself up short. There were too many things to do to worry about him right now.

  She stopped by the motel an hour before she was due to pick up Sonja. She hadn't had time to hang out with Mickie and Stevie for over a week, and she missed them. She'd acquired more friends since Adam had come to town than she'd had in her whole adult life.

  As Rose and Mickie settled into the chairs in the motel lobby, Stevie brought out tall glasses of iced tea. Rose filled in the girls with details of Sonja’s debut as a radio personality.

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this yesterday? We’d have listened.” Mickie tuned the office radio to KTLY. “Now we won’t miss a minute.”

  Rose started to ask how the twins were doing when Stevie stopped her, holding up her hand, palm out. “Idea coming in for a landing.”

  Mickie and Rose looked at each other then back to Stevie.

  “Scary thought,” Mickie said.

  Stevie stuck out her tongue at her sister then turned to face Rose. "Mickie and I can do a show, too. We’ll call it Steve and Mike's Home Repair for Dummies. We're really good at fixing anything from plumbing to electrical. We can paint and lay tile. We can have a call in show, and tell people when they can fix things themselves and how or when they need to call in a professional. What do you think?"

  "I think we've just filled our afternoon programming slots.”

  Stevie took a long sip of her tea. “How are things going with Adam?”

  Rose narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean the will?” She busied herself stirring more sugar into her glass.

  Mickie laughed. “If you put more sugar in there, you’re going to go into a diabetic coma.” She laid her hand on Rose’s knee. “We mean your relationship. We’ve seen Adam look at you. It’s not a secret how he feels about you.”

  “Relationship?” Rose managed to keep her voice steady, but she couldn’t control the flush that crept up her neck and across her face. “We’re just friends.”

  Mickie laughed. “You keep thinking that. I’m going to get more iced tea.”

  “No, really.” Rose turned to Stevie. “There’s nothing going on. Nothing lasting, anyway.”

  Stevie’s grin faded. She stared at Rose, her face forlorn. “I’m not trying to but in, but I think you moved past friends a while back. Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

  The desire to tell Stevie how she felt was almost overwhelming, but a lifetime of keeping her feelings to herself won out. She shrugged and turned back to her tea.

  “Rose,” Stevie said, her voice above a whisper. “If he’s what you want, you need to fight for him.”

  The tone of Stevie’s voice caused Rose to look at her friend. Something was going on with the twins. More than the battle to save the motel. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about. Are you fighting for what you want?” Rose asked.

  Stevie’s laugh was filled with melancholy. “I lost that battle before it even started.” As Mickie came back with a pitcher of tea, Stevie’s face transformed with a smile firmly in place. “How are the other businesses doing?”

  -#-

  Adam parked Miss Cool in the lot beside the garage but didn’t get out. With the window rolled down, the warm afternoon breeze was too comfortable to leave.

  He wasn't sure just how to approach Red. He needed to get the subject out in the open, but he'd never discussed anything this personal with anyone. As the bright sunshine heated the interior of the car, he sucked in a fortifying breath, climbed out and headed into the office.

  Red was in the pit under a Chevy Nova. Adam could have gone into the mechanic’s bay, but coward that he was, he waited until the man climbed out and joined him.

  In typical Red fashion, the man poured himself a cup of coffee then sat back to wait for Adam to have his say.

  Adam stared into his coffee, shifting from foot to foot as he leaned against the counter.

  "Do you want me to start?” Red said his lazy drawl tinged with a hint of humor. “You seem to be having a problem getting the words out.” The smile vanished as Red crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in the folding chair. “I can see you've found out about my past. Am I fired?”

  “No, I don’t want to fire you. How would I run this place?” Adam forced himself to look Red in the eye. “I wanted to run some things by you, but I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Let me help. Until five years ago, I'd lived my whole life as Linda Granger. I was 39 years old when I had my reassignment surgery. I’d been see
ing a psychiatrist and had hormone therapy for five years before the surgery.” The tension left his body like a popped balloon. He sat forward, his arms resting on his thighs, the coffee cup dangling from his fingers.

  “At first, I thought I would out-grow the feelings. Then I thought I could just ignore them, but the guilt was driving me crazy. When I got to the point where I researched ways to kill myself, I knew I had to do something.” Red stood then poured the thick black coffee from his cracked red cup into the metal sink. He faced Adam. “I found Dr. Biber on the internet.”

  Adam remained silent, giving Red all the time he needed.

  “He'd done more sexual reassignment surgeries than anyone else, so I climbed into my car one night and drove for thirteen hours to get here. Dr. Biber had retired, but Dr. Bowers had taken over the clinic. Lucky for me, she's continuing his work. This has been the best thing I've ever done for myself, but it hasn't been easy."

  "What was the hardest part?" Adam asked.

  "For a while, a group of people picketed the entrance to the hospital. Walking through them every day, being called names, that was hard.” Red shuddered and sat. He raised his gaze to Adam’s. “One man even threw rotten fruit at me.”

  Adam shook his head, uncertain what to say about that bit of information.

  “Although the people at the clinic and the hospital are wonderful, others seem to think we’re abominations. When I got this job, I didn't tell anyone. They just assumed I was a man, and I am." Red slapped his palms on the tabletop and stood. "Sure you’re not going to fire me?"

  "No,” Adam said. "I’m not firing you, but I do need your advice." He wiped spilled coffee off the table with a napkin then spread out the papers he’d brought. "We need to make a profit on all five businesses Simon left to me, or Ms. Keeler gets them, and I’m pretty sure she'll close you all down. The radio station and the garage are in good shape. The restaurant is a maybe, but the motel and the flower shop can't make it the way things are now."

  A tiny black spider lowered itself on a minuscule web to the spreadsheets. Adam tipped it onto the floor then pointed to the information.