by Maria Geraci
Everyone began talking again. “Looks like we won’t be playing Bunco tonight,” Mimi said. “There’s too much to celebrate!”
Lauren smiled. Tonight was overwhelming and wonderful, and the tears, it seemed, just kept coming. Not because of Kitty’s news. Oh, she was happy for Kitty. No doubt about that. But the tears of happiness were for herself. It was silly, she knew, but the past year and a half had been stressful. There was the divorce, and Daddy’s illness, and the daily worry that her shop wasn’t going to make it. Having friends meant something. It meant Whispering Bay was really beginning to feel like home again.
*~*~*
Lauren lived just a block away from Kitty. It was a beautiful old neighborhood with most of the Spanish style houses originally built back in the twenties and thirties. She and Henry were leasing one of the smaller homes in the area. The night was clear and cool and the smell of chimney smoke hung in the air. She’d enjoyed living in Atlanta, but she’d missed the simplicity of small town living. Of walking home from an evening spent with friends. She pulled out her cell phone and called her mother. “Hey, Momma.”
“Where have you been? Didn’t you get my text message?”
“Yes, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who’s the eagle and how’s Daddy’s hand?”
“Hey, Sweet Tea!” she heard Daddy yell in the background. Lauren instantly smiled. “See, he’s fine,” Momma said. “I, on the other hand have been a nervous wreck. Guess who I talked to this afternoon? Paula!”
The name sounded familiar. “Who’s Paula again?”
“My friend from the club who knows Nate Miller’s sister.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Lauren’s stomach began to fizzle. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that last margarita.
“And she says Melanie, that’s Nate’s sister, is such a lovely girl!” There was a pause. “Did you know she was a lesbian? It used to be you could tell, but now, who knows these days? They look just like everyone else. Anyway, she’s totally on board with trying to fix you up with Nate! Oh, sweetie, that poor man. Did you know he proposed to some awful girl last weekend at The Harbor House? Apparently, it even made the news.”
“It was on YouTube, Momma.”
“That’s what I said. Anyway, lucky for us she turned him down. You’ve got to strike now while the iron is hot. Otherwise, he’ll be scooped up before you know it. He’s Whispering Bay’s newest most eligible bachelor!”
“Momma…can we talk about this later?” As in, never.
“Of course, honey. I just wanted you to know I was making progress.”
“Sounds good,” Lauren said absent-mindedly. She really shouldn’t worry. This was all going to come to nothing. Even if Nate’s sister really did want to fix him up, there was no way he would ever agree to go out with Lauren. No way what-so-ever.
“Nate, can I have a moment?” Doc motioned him into his office. “Have a seat.” Nate took the chair across from the desk. He crossed his ankle over his knee and sat back to take a breather. He’d seen almost twenty patients this morning. It was his best personal record. So far.
Doc sat on the couch next to the window. “How are things going?”
“Just fine, sir.”
Doc smiled kindly. But then, Nate didn’t think he’d ever heard the older gentleman utter a cross word. “No need to call me sir. Makes me feel old.” He chuckled. “Of course, I am old, I suppose. One day you’re thirty and just beginning your career, and before you know it, you’re hitting sixty-five, and there’s grandkids and everyone’s asking you when you’re going to retire.”
Nate nodded. Doc looked at him but didn’t say anything, making Nate think he was waiting for a verbal response. “When exactly are you going to retire, sir, um, I mean, Phillip?” It was odd, calling Doc by his first name, but they were colleagues now. And he’d already said he didn’t want to be called ‘sir.’
“You don’t mince words, do you? Generally, I like that in a person. Honesty is an admirable quality, Nate. But…occasionally, a more subtle approach is required. Take for instance, yesterday, when you told Frances Kiefer that she was too fat.”
Nate sat up straight. “I never said she was fat. I believe I used the term clinically obese. Her BMI was over forty.”
“Yes, but in her mind, that’s what she heard. She came to me this morning, crying.”
“Because she’s worried about her chances of developing diabetes and hypertension? I don’t blame her. According to her records she has a strong family history of both heart attack and stroke. I’m glad she’s taking my warning seriously.”
Doc made a pained face. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say here. Mrs. Kiefer is fully aware that she needs to lose weight. I’ve been telling her that for years. Oh, she’ll go on a fad diet and lose twenty pounds but then she’ll gain it all back and more afterward. Lecturing her isn’t going to get her to change her habits. It’s only going to make her avoid going to the doctor. Understand?”
“Not really. If I can’t tell her the truth, then how I am supposed to help her?”
“By easing her into a conversation. By gently reminding her about nutrition programs, exercise, that sort of thing.”
“And…that’s what you’ve been doing all these years?” Nate cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, um, Phillip, but it doesn’t seem that it’s worked.”
“No, I guess it hasn’t,” he admitted, “but your approach isn’t going to help, either. Just think about what I’ve said, Nate. Talk to the patients. Get to know them. That’s why they come here, you know. Take Dan Handy and his family. Dan was one of my first patients. Did you know that?”
Nate slowly shook his head. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next. He hadn’t liked the way he’d left things with Lauren Donalan the other day. She’d been angry with him, although, why, Nate couldn’t say. He’d been worried about her father. He thought she’d appreciate that. Instead, she’d called him Mr. Spock. Had she spoken to Doc about him as well? Having Mrs. Kiefer complain about him was bad enough, but if Lauren had done the same… For some reason, the idea made his stomach twist into knots.
“I went to Florida with Dan,” Doc continued. “We’re frat brothers. When I came back to practice medicine, oh, thirty-five years or so ago, there wasn’t a doctor in Whispering Bay. Everyone was going over to Panama City. I set up my shingle and I think I had ten patients that first week. Then Dan came to me on the pretense that he needed a physical. Told everyone that worked for him at his accounting firm that they needed physicals, too, and that the company would pay for them. Then he started sending over his whole family. And I don’t mean just Maureen. The whole Handy family started coming to me—Earl, and Margaret, rest her soul, and all their kids and all the aunts and uncles and cousins and, well, hell, you know them. Half the town is a Handy or related to one of them. Even though old Earl lives in Mexico Beach now, I’m still his doctor.”
It seemed as if the anecdote concerning Dan Handy was winding down. But Nate wanted to make sure. “So…Dan Handy’s daughter didn’t come to you with any complaints about me?”
Doc looked surprised. “No, should she have?”
“Absolutely not.” Nate felt the knots in his stomach ease up. “You’re a fine physician. They’re lucky to have you care for them.”
“I’m not looking for compliments. I’m telling you like it is. All those people I told you about? They don’t come to see me because I’m the best doctor in the area, they come to see me because they know I care about them. Because I know that Frances Kiefer isn’t going to be nagged into losing weight, so I joke about it with her and she laughs back and promises me that next visit she’ll be twenty pounds thinner. And I hope and pray for her sake that this is the visit that wakes her up. But mostly, I hope that she’ll never be too embarrassed or too nervous to tell me the truth about what’s going on, because then I really can’t help her.” He pointed to a framed cross stich embroidery next to his medical school diploma. “
See that there?”
YOU LIE TO THE POLICE. NOT TO YOUR DOCTOR.
Nate had noticed it, of course. He had assumed it was a gift, but the saying hadn’t resonated with him.
“One day, years ago when I was just a tadpole, I had this fella come see me whose blood pressure was too high. So I put him on some antihypertensive, can’t remember which one right now, and I tell him to come back in a month and we’ll see how he’s doing. So he comes back, and this time, his blood pressure is even higher and I can’t figure it out. I ask him if he’s taking the medication every day, and he looks me straight in the eye and says, ‘Oh, yeah, Doc, I’m taking my pills.’ So I double the dose and tell him to come back in two weeks. Same thing. Blood pressure’s still high. And I can’t figure it out, until Lola turns around and just out and asks him why he isn’t taking his medication.”
“Let me guess,” Nate said, “he didn’t like the side-effects.”
“Exactly. Only he was too embarrassed to tell me, and I wasn’t smart enough to sit down and ask him how he was feeling. How he was really feeling. So I’m sitting there, still kind of stunned, and Lola laughs and tells him, ‘We’re not here to arrest you, we’re here to make you feel better. You lie to the police, not to your doctor.’”
Nate knew what was happening here. This was one of those touchy-feely moments when he was supposed to act as if everything suddenly became clear. It was a nice sentiment, this taking the time to chat with your patients, and it certainly worked for Doc Morrison. But Nate wasn’t Doc. He had his own skill set, his own way of talking to patients, and yes, maybe he was a bit blunt, but on the other hand, he didn’t keep patients stewing for hours in the waiting room, either. According to the latest patient surveys, long waiting room times were the number one reason for patient dissatisfaction.
He glanced at his watch. “Is there anything else you wanted to see me about?”
Doc sighed heavily. “Arlene talked me into one of those Mediterranean cruises. Apparently there’s a whole group here in town that’s planning to go. Two weeks in the middle of July. You’ll be going solo here at the office then. Think you can handle it?”
“Of course.” Nate was actually looking forward to it. When Doc returned from his vacation to find the office functioning even better than when he’d left it, he’d ease up and realize that he’d done the right thing all those years ago in giving Nate that scholarship. Maybe he’d even feel good enough about the whole thing that he’d retire. Not that Nate didn’t enjoy working alongside Doc; he just didn’t want Doc to feel he’d made a mistake taking him on.
*~*~*
Nate opened the exam room door to find his sister lying on the table with a magazine over her face to block out the light. “What are you doing in here?” he asked.
Lanie pulled the magazine down. “Don’t yell at Broom Hilda, she said I could cool my heels in here.” She swung her legs over to the side of the table and sat up.
“I assume you’re talking about Lola? I would never yell at her.”
“Yeah, her,” Lanie said. “Why doesn’t she like you?”
“Why aren’t you at work? Don’t you have a stray cat to rescue?”
“Speaking of which, you’ll be happy to know I put one of those puppies aside for you. A little guy. So cute and warm and cuddly. I’ve named him Hector in honor of your love of Greek mythology. You’ll forget all about Jessica in no time.”
Nate frowned. His sister knew well and good he had no interest in Greek mythology and truth was, he hadn’t thought about Jessica all week. There was something rather disturbing about that. Not the Greek mythology part, but the bit about Jessica. If he’d really loved her enough to marry her, shouldn’t he be depressed they were no longer together? “Speaking of Jessica, I’m actually glad you’re here. I want to get your thoughts on something.”
Lanie brightened. “Finally! You’ve decided to come to me for advice. Okay, what it is?”
“It’s the ring. I need to return it, naturally, and I was thinking I could put the money back into my savings, but Mom hasn’t been on a vacation in years. And never a fancy one. Doc is going on a Mediterranean cruise in July. Apparently, there’s a group from town going. Maybe Mom might like to get in on that. If it’s not too late. I’d have to look into it but—”
“I love it! And I especially love the irony that it’s Jessica’s ring money that will pay for it. Good idea, bro.” Lanie slipped off the table and gave him a hug. “I don’t care what anyone says, you do have a heart.”
First Jessica, then Frances Kiefer, and now Lanie. He was beginning to feel paranoid. Why did everyone think he was heartless?
“So, back to my reason for being here. I know you, Nate, better than you know yourself sometimes, and this thing with Jessica is going to eat away at your self-confidence. Soon, you’ll be eating microwave dinners in front of the T.V. and before you know it, you’ll be like the lonely old man from Up, except he at least was a widower. But this isn’t a Disney movie, bro, and there won’t be any chubby adorable boy scout ringing the doorbell to come save you.”
“Do we really share the same DNA?”
“Positive. So, here’s my plan. I’m not going to let you wallow and stew and be afraid to ask another girl out for fear of rejection, so I’ve taken the liberty to set you up on a date for this Saturday.”
“This Saturday? As in, tomorrow night?” His voice cracked like he was thirteen-fucking-years-old again.
Lanie grinned. “It’s taken me twenty-eight years but I think I’ve actually managed to shock you. Yes, this Saturday.”
“Last Saturday I asked a woman to marry me, and now, one week later, you expect me to ask another woman out?”
“Not ask her out. No. That’s already been done. All you have to do is show up. I’m even going to pay for it, even though you make a lot more money than I do because that’s how much I love you. And don’t say no because…you’ll hurt her feelings. She’s been divorced for over a year now and hasn’t gone out on a single date because she’s been traumatized. If you stand her up then she’ll probably go over the edge. Think about your Hippocratic Oath to do good and all that. Don’t you want to help this poor girl out?”
“I prefer the more modern oath of First Do No Harm.” He stilled. “Who is this girl? Do I know her?”
“Here’s the sweet part. You went to high school with her! She used to be Lauren Handy, but now she’s Lauren—”
Nate began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You set me up on a date with Lauren Donalan? Are you on drugs?” He pulled out his pen light and did a quick inspection of her pupils. Huh. Both were equal and reactive to light. He placed his palm against her forehead. Her skin felt warm and dry. “Okay, so most likely, no to the drugs.”
Lanie frowned. “What’s wrong with her? Does she have an extra leg or something?”
“Did she actually say she’d go out with me?”
“Well…her mother set it up through Paula Zimmerman. Paula did a big fundraiser for the shelter last month and she’s friends with the mom, Maureen Handy. She’s kind of a blast from the past, old school-debutante and all that, but she’s a nice lady. And I don’t mind telling you that Maureen is loaded and made a very substantial contribution to the shelter, so yeah, can you please come through for me on this?”
Nate knew there was no way Lauren Donalan would ever agree to this date. And as for Lanie’s little fairytale that Lauren hadn’t gone out since her divorce, well, Nate could tell her a few things about that. He wondered what his sister would say if he told her that poor traumatized Lauren had been at The Harbor House the night he’d proposed to Jessica.
“I’ll tell you what. If Lauren Donalan agrees to the date, then I’ll show up. How about that?”
“Perfect! Now, when should I bring Hector by your house?”
“When pigs fly.”
Friday afternoons were Lauren’s favorite. Not for the usual TGIF kind of reasons, but because the shop al
ways seemed to garner some action. A stroll along the shore and a cup of coffee or a pastry at The Bistro by the Beach seemed like an idyllic way to begin the weekend. So did a little window shopping at Can Buy Me Love. At least a dozen customers had come by in the last hour. She’d only sold one item—a nineteen-sixties era dress that Lauren had found at a garage sale last year. The dress had been torn on one side, but Lauren had used her sewing skills to fix it so that it was impossible to see the tear. The dress had been cleaned and pressed to Jackie Kennedy precision and the new owner was thrilled.
It was a balmy sixty-four degrees outside and Diana Ross and the Supremes were telling anyone within hearing distance to stop in the name of love. Dhara was assisting a teenage customer and her mother. The girl was doing a history project on the sixties and looking for “inspiration.” Lauren was happy to help, but it would be nice if that inspiration came in the way of buying something, as well.
It was after five. Tom usually picked up Henry at school¸ then they’d go hang out for a while until Lauren closed the shop. She was almost positive that Henry had soccer practice this evening. Thank God Tom helped keep track of all that. She couldn’t remember if she defrosted anything for tonight’s dinner, which usually meant that she hadn’t. Maybe Henry could be talked into going by Tiny’s Pizza tonight. Although, Lauren wouldn’t have to talk very much. Like most eleven year-old boys, Henry loved pizza. Especially Tiny’s.
She left the shop in Dhara’s capable hands and went back to her office to make a call. She’d tried to contact the leasing office at Waterbury Real Estate a couple of times this past week but she hadn’t been able to connect with a live person, and they hadn’t returned her message. Although Frida had told her it was probably just a routine inspection, she still wanted to make sure everything was all right. She dialed the number on the letter and waited.
A pleasant sounding male voice answered. “Waterbury Real Estate. May I help you?”
Yes! Finally, a real person.
“This is Lauren Donalan. I rent the property on Beach Street, right next to The Bistro? I received a letter this week stating someone would be out to inspect the property. Can you give me some information on that?”
