Secrets of Forever

by Marie Ferrarella

  Olivia eyed him knowingly from her office chair. “You’re going to force Miss Joan to go see Dan, aren’t you?”

  Cash looked utterly determined. “Even if I have to carry her there myself to do it.”

  Olivia appeared skeptical. “You might be biting off more than you can chew.”

  Already on his way out, Cash stopped just short of the doorway. “If anything happens to that woman, I’ll have two funerals to arrange, and I’m not up to dealing with that. I’m not ready for that old man to leave me yet,” he added bluntly in case there was any question about whom he meant.

  Olivia glanced at her calendar. There was nothing pressing on it this morning. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, I’ll handle it. If any of my clients want to talk to me, ask them to call back this afternoon,” he told her. Then he added, “And maybe cross your fingers while you’re at it.”

  Olivia smiled warmly. “Makes holding down the fort a little tricky.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can,” he told the attractive brunette as he left her office.

  * * *

  “Are you taking an early lunch?” Miss Joan asked when Cash entered the diner.

  “No,” he said, walking up to the counter where she was currently standing, “I’m taking a stubborn grandmother to her appointment at the medical clinic.” Cash frowned at the woman. “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Joan. You broke your promise.”

  Miss Joan raised her chin, a prizefighter spoiling for a fight. “I did not,” she informed Cash indignantly. “I promised you I’d make an appointment with Davenport and I did. I did not promise to keep it,” the woman pointed out.

  Miss Joan never ceased to amaze him, he thought. The woman could wiggle out of anything.

  “The way I see it, you have two choices, Miss Joan. You can either walk out of here with me on your own power, or I can carry you out. Either way, you are seeing the doctor.”

  Miss Joan’s eyes darted to her waitresses and then to the sheriff, who had stopped by for a quick cup of coffee before heading out to the Elliot Ranch to handle a local dispute.

  “Don’t look at me, Miss Joan. I’m on Cash’s side,” Rick protested.

  Miss Joan’s face clouded over although, deep down, she hadn’t expected the sheriff to answer any other way. “I’m not going to forget this.”

  “As long as you’re around to carry a grudge, that’s all right with me,” Rick told her. “We’re all worried about you,” he added.

  Word had spread fast about how pale Miss Joan had turned the other day, not once, but twice. No one wanted to witness a repeat performance.

  “Listen to me, you two,” Miss Joan all but growled. “I am fine.” Her tone was crisp, measured. Then she repeated the word—“Fine”—with emphasis.

  Rick was unmoved and remained seated, nursing his coffee. “We just want to make that official and have the doc tell us so.”

  “So, which is it, Miss Joan?” Cash asked. “Are you going out on your own two feet, or do I have to carry you?”

  Her eyes flashing, Miss Joan muttered a few choice words under her breath as she took off her apron and tossed it on the counter. She knew when she was defeated.

  “On my own two feet,” she said coldly.

  Cash nodded. “Good choice.”

  Miss Joan gave it one more shot as they walked out of her diner.

  “Davenport’s a busy man, boy. I don’t like taking up his time like this over nothing,” she cried.

  Cash wasn’t buying it. “Attending your funeral will cost him more time,” he quipped, escorting the woman to his car.

  “Since when did you get so dramatic?” Miss Joan asked.

  Closing the passenger door after her, Cash rounded the hood and got in on his side.

  “It comes with the territory,” he replied. “The sooner we do this,” he told her, starting up his car, “the sooner it’ll be over.”

  Miss Joan crossed her arms before her small chest, unwilling to buy into his narrative.

  * * *

  “You don’t have to hang around,” Miss Joan told her grandson as they walked into the medical clinic. He hadn’t left her side since picking her up at the diner.

  “I’m afraid we have a slight difference of opinion when it comes to that matter, Miss Joan. You might as well save your breath,” he said kindly. “I’m staying.”

  “This is harassment, you know,” she snapped as they entered the semi-crowded clinic. There wasn’t a single person there she didn’t know, but Miss Joan avoided making any eye contact. She was much too angry to do that.

  “No, this is insurance,” Cash replied mildly as he nodded at Debi, one of the two nurses sitting behind the reception desk. “I’m ensuring the fact that you’re going to be seeing the doctor.”

  “Dr. Davenport is waiting for you, Miss Joan,” Debi said, rising and coming around the desk. “If you’ll just follow me.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Miss Joan asked tersely, glancing over her shoulder at Cash.

  “No, ma’am,” Debi replied, doing her best not to smile at the situation. She knew the older woman wouldn’t appreciate it. “You do not.”

  Miss Joan shook her head in disgust. “And to think that I gave this town the best years of my life,” she complained, grudgingly walking behind the nurse.

  “We’d all like to think that those are still ahead of you, Miss Joan,” Debi told her as she led the woman into the rear of the clinic. “You’re in exam room one,” she said, gesturing toward the room.

  It was obvious that Dr. Daniel Davenport was waiting for her, eager to resolve this as quickly as possible. He owed the diner owner a debt because of the way she had treated his wife before they were ever married.

  “Hello, Miss Joan,” Dan said warmly, taking her hand between both of his. “I promise to make this as painless as possible.”

  “It’s already too late for that,” the woman informed him. “Look, I’ll save us both some time and trouble. I’ve had a couple of heart flutters. Nothing serious, but everyone overreacted and made a big deal out of it, including that old man I made the mistake of marrying. Now, I’ve got a diner to run, so if we’re through here—”

  Dr. Dan gently took Miss Joan by the arm and led her over to the examination table. “No, Miss Joan, we are not through here. I need you to sit down on this table and let me examine you.”

  Annoyed and stymied, Miss Joan exhaled dramatically. “Oh, all right. Just make it quick,” she instructed impatiently.

  Dan smiled into the older woman’s eyes. The lined face of a warrior, he couldn’t help thinking. “I’ll make it thorough.”

  Miss Joan scowled, far from happy, but she knew that resistance would only prolong the process, and she wanted to be gone. “Let’s get this over with,” she ordered.

  Helping Miss Joan onto the exam table, Dan flashed a smile at her. “Your wish is my command, Miss Joan.”

  “Ha! Don’t push it, sonny,” Miss Joan warned the physician.

  It took a lot for Dan not to laugh.

  * * *

  “So, are you satisfied?” Miss Joan asked, buttoning up her blouse. She never took her eyes off Dan. “I assume I can go now, right?”

  He made one last notation in the woman’s exceptionally thin file. To his recollection, Miss Joan had never been inside his medical center since he had first reopened it.

  “No,” he answered. “And yes.”

  Impatience creased Miss Joan’s lined forehead. “I’ll go with ‘yes,’” the woman said, slipping off the edge of the exam table. She turned toward the door.

  “I thought you might,” he said and then dropped his bomb. “I want you to see a specialist.”

  Miss Joan raised her eyes accusingly. “I just did,” she pointed out. “You.”

  “No,” he contradicted. “I mean
a cardiac specialist.”

  “Forever doesn’t have a cardiac specialist,” she reminded him tersely.

  “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, “but—”

  “Well, that settles it, doesn’t it?” Miss Joan announced. “I can’t see one if we don’t have one. Now, I’ve got people waiting for me, so if you don’t mind—”

  “Oh, but I do mind, Miss Joan,” Dan said, catching her gently by the arm and preventing her escape. “You have a big heart, but it’s a heart that clearly needs help, and I’m not qualified to do the type of surgery that you need.” He watched as shock passed over the older woman’s face. “There’re some fine cardiac specialists in Austin—”

  Miss Joan shook her head, vetoing the idea before it was actually even spoken.

  “Unless one of those ‘fine’ doctors is willing to make a house call to Forever to see me,” she informed Dan, “I’m afraid this idea has run its course. So, if you’ll just step out of my way, sonny, we can both get on with our lives.”

  Dan shook his head. “You are definitely one stubborn lady, Miss Joan,” he said.

  “I never claimed to be anything else, sonny.” Her features softened slightly. “Look, I appreciate the corner my grandson and husband just painted you into, but you did your best. You gave me an exam—not that I wanted one—and you gave me your opinion, which I duly noted. Now let me get back to what I do best—”

  “Being stubborn?” he asked wryly.

  “Being useful,” she countered. “Send your bill to Harry,” she said, straightening her blouse. “So maybe next time that old man’ll think twice before having me practically abducted.”

  But Dan wasn’t ready to give up. He recalled a conversation he’d just had with one of the doctors he had gotten to know well while interning in New York. Back before he had ever come out here and gotten hooked on Forever.

  “What if I could get one of those cardiologists to come see you?” Dan asked just as Miss Joan reached for the handle on the exam room door. “If he came here, would you see him then?”

  Miss Joan laughed shortly, thinking the chances of that happening were slim to none. Mostly none. She turned around to look at Dan with what passed for her own version of a broad smile on her thin lips.

  “Sure, if you can get one to come all the way to our little town to make a ‘house call,’ then yes, I’ll see him—or her. After all, I’m nothing if not reasonable,” she told him with a cackle. And then she looked from Dan to Debi, who had remained in the room for the examination. “Now, am I free to leave or do you have an armed guard posted outside this door?” she asked.

  “No, no armed guard, Miss Joan. You’re free to leave,” Dan told her.

  Something about the expression on the doctor’s face told her this wasn’t over yet. But if she pressed the issue and asked, she was fairly certain it would escalate into a bigger discussion, and she had no time for that.

  She had people waiting for her at the diner. Probably a lot of people by now.

  Chapter Two

  Maybe it actually was time for a change, Dr. Neil Eastwood thought.

  Admittedly, change had been in the back of his mind for a while, ever since his conversation with his old friend, Daniel Davenport. He had felt this restlessness building up inside him for some time but now it seemed to be coming to a head. Neil knew that if he said as much to some of his friends and the colleagues he worked with, they wouldn’t hesitate to tell him they thought he was crazy.

  Here he was, a skilled cardiac surgeon at the top of his field, associated with the best, most respected hospital in New York City—the city that never slept—and all he could think about was leaving it all behind and starting over somewhere else.

  Quite honestly, the feeling had taken root even before he and Judith, his now ex-fiancée, had broken up. But the breakup had definitely escalated this desire for change.

  Although she’d adamantly denied it when he’d called her on it, there was no denying the fact that Judith had wanted to orchestrate every minute part of his life. At times, he was still surprised that she hadn’t attempted to elbow her way into his actual practice, telling him which patients she thought he should see and which he should turn away.

  Judith had made it clear that she’d thought he should only minister to patients who could pay handsomely for his services. Namely rich patients. That way, his reputation would continue to grow and he would be able to take on patients who would pay top dollar for his services, no matter what he wound up charging. Judith Monroe had very expensive tastes and although her family certainly had money—old money—she was of the opinion that one could never possibly have enough money.

  Neil, on the other hand, had not gone into cardiac surgery for the money. Oh, he had to admit that, for a while, it was seductive, almost alluring, to be paid for what he loved doing. But the concept of financial reimbursement had all changed in one night. He’d been doing back-to-back shifts, one of which had been whimsically referred to as the “graveyard,” when an ashen-faced father ran into the ER carrying his five-year-old daughter in his arms and screaming for help.

  As luck would have it, Neil, the only doctor on duty at the time, turned out to be instrumental in saving that little girl’s life. A little girl who would have died if not for him. The exhilarating feeling he’d experienced when she’d finally opened her eyes had been unbelievable. He’d known then that he wanted to recapture that feeling again and again.

  He’d also known that such exhilaration wouldn’t be possible if he continued to dance attendance on the rich and famous, monitoring their lab tests and adjusting their medications just so they could continue eating and drinking to excess while partying with their friends.

  In retrospect, that sort of life, the life that Judith had wanted for him, all felt so meaningless and utterly empty.

  He needed his life to mean something, needed his existence to make a difference, the way it had when he’d treated that little girl. He had actually brought her back from the abyss. By all rights, she had been clinically dead for almost five minutes.

  Neil thought of that little girl as his miracle child. When she’d opened her eyes and “come back,” somehow, miraculously, there hadn’t been any brain damage whatsoever. He had personally tested her for symptoms because he couldn’t believe it.

  He’d taken that “miracle” as a sign that he needed to shift the path of his life. He needed to dedicate himself to something more worthwhile than what he was doing.

  When he’d told Judith about his midnight epiphany and the path he was contemplating taking—operating on patients whether or not they could pay at the time—it had been the beginning of the end for the two of them. Judith had accused him of being crazy, which was immediately followed by a knock-down, drag-out verbal assault where she did the bulk of the railing, not to mention vicious name-calling. She’d called his sanity into serious question, as well.

  When that hadn’t made him retract his words, she’d played her ace card. She’d threatened to leave because, under no circumstances, could she see herself “shackled to a loser,” which she maintained was what he would be if he followed through.

  Instead of her rant causing him to “see the light” the way she had expected, Judith’s threat had only managed to accomplish his sudden exposure to an invigorating, tremendous sense of relief.

  It was as if a huge weight had instantly been lifted off him. No grief, no shock, just a feeling of sweet relief.

  He was suddenly free to do whatever he wanted with his life—all he had to do was figure out what that was.

  That was when Fate stepped in, Neil thought now, in the form of a phone call.

  In his apartment, located a few prestigious blocks from the hospital, he was contemplating his next move, as well as life without Judith, when his cell phone rang. He debated letting it go to voice mail, then changed his mind. He didn’t want to put anyth
ing off anymore. Whatever was out there, he intended to meet it head-on.

  Picking up his cell phone and swiping it open, he announced, “Eastwood.”

  “Neil?” a deep, familiar voice he couldn’t quite place said on the other end of the line.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a disadvantage—”

  He was about to ask the caller to identify himself when the person on the other end did just that.

  “Neil, it’s Dan. Dan Davenport,” he added unnecessarily since they had just spoken less than a month ago.

  “Oh, wow!” Neil cried. “Funny you should call. I was just thinking about you and the way you had just taken off for that small town to continue your brother’s practice. You said it was just until they could find a replacement for him. How long did you wind up staying?” Neil asked, intrigued and amused by the whole thing.

  Dan laughed softly. “You know the answer to that, Neil. I’m still there.”

  “Do you have any regrets?” Neil asked. As he remembered it, Dan was the one who’d had the most detailed plans for his future out of all of the interns. And then his life had taken a sudden, unexpected, detour.

  “No, not a single one,” Dan answered honestly. “Actually, that’s what I’m calling about.”

  “Not having any regrets?” Neil asked, slightly confused.

  “No, about doing the most worthwhile thing with my life that I never initially planned on doing.”

  Neil experienced an eerie feeling that he was suddenly standing on the edge of the rest of his life.

  “Go on,” he quietly urged.

  “I need your help, Neil,” Dan began, warming up to his subject. “There’s this venerable old woman in Forever who runs the diner here. It’s the only restaurant in town.”

  As a born-and-bred New Yorker, Neil couldn’t envision a place with just one restaurant. “You’re kidding,” Neil marveled. “Just how small is this place?”

  “Small,” Dan assured him. “But size doesn’t have anything to do with it.” He paused for a moment, regrouping. “This would make more sense if you were here, which is what this phone call is actually about. Miss Joan—”