Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  Pushing back the frustration that always came when she thought about what could have been with Devin, she got up from the table and put the dishes in the sink. Her ankle would prevent her from painting today, but she could unpack her bags this morning before going to the library to look for a job. She doubted Peaches and Roxanne would show up before noon and if she could get most of her unpacking done by then, she’d be long gone before they came looking for her. Although it was only a matter of time before they caught up with her and she’d have to face them, and Tony.

  Chapter 4

  Devin swung his car into the side parking lot of his office at 8:30 the next morning. His receptionist Anna’s blue minivan, and his nurse Lisa’s red Malibu were already in the lot. He breathed a sigh of relief as he cut the engine and jumped out of the truck. His rounds at the hospital had taken longer than he’d expected. With a glance at his watch he entered the building to prepare for his first patient at nine. Memories of being there the night before with Shayla were fresh as he walked down the hall to his office. Instead of proving that seeing her didn’t affect him at all, he’d acted jealous and condescending. It was no secret Shayla didn’t care about his opinion, yet he still felt the need to lecture her.

  She was probably sitting at home now calling him a pompous ass, or was on the phone with one of her friends in Atlanta laughing at him. He hoped she didn’t call Tasha and tell her about it. The last thing he needed was for his friend Jared to know he’d lost his cool. While he was happy to give his friends advice when it came to women, he preferred to keep his relationships — or lack thereof — to himself.

  He entered his office and sat in the leather chair behind his desk. Unlike other doctors he knew, his office wasn’t adorned with family pictures of a wife and children. The only embellishment to the bookshelf filled with medical texts and his degrees on the wall were a few potted plants Anna insisted he needed and some awards received over the years. A stack of faxes with the results from various patient labs samples sat on his desk. He reached for them as he flipped on his computer and waited for it to boot up. He was shuffling through the results of his first patient when Anna came in.

  “You’re here. Lisa and I were wondering what was keeping you.” She said placing a steaming cup of coffee on his desk. Anna was in her late fifties, but still had the smooth skin and toned body of a woman in her thirties. Whenever someone complemented her on her good looks, she always grinned and said it was because her husband made her so happy. Her dark eyes sparkled with curiosity behind stylish red glasses.

  With a sinking feeling he guessed what was going on beneath her salt-n-pepper cropped hair. “Rounds took longer than usual. I’ll make my patient follow up calls during lunch.” He said taking a sip of coffee. He sighed with satisfaction; besides Annie’s ability to keep his office running smoothly, he kept her around because she made the best coffee.

  She leaned against the desk and grinned. “I wondered if you were up late last night.”

  He stopped shuffling through the lab results and looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Why would I be up late?”

  Annie waved a hand and shrugged. “I thought you may have been busy, that’s all.”

  Not buying it, he flattened his hands on the desk and raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask whatever question is bouncing around that head of yours?”

  “He’s here. Did you ask him?” Lisa, his nurse said from the door. If Lisa was 100 pounds soaking wet it would surprise him. But she ate more than most men he knew. She made her own scrubs, like the purple butterfly pair she wore today, because she couldn’t find any small enough to fit her slim frame. The sharp lines of her face were almost as sharp as her attitude, but she was the best nurse he’d ever had.

  Devin rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what is this about?”

  Lisa placed a thin hand on her hip. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You passed right by my cousin’s house last night when you took that Shayla Monroe home. I was sitting on the porch and saw you with my own eyes.”

  “Then you would have seen when I drove away from her house.” He said with a tone of forced patience. “She was out jogging and fell. I saw her, brought her here to wrap her ankle, and took her home.”

  Lisa straightened up and pointed at him. “You brought her here? So you two were in here alone last night.”

  He scoffed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Just so I could check out her ankle.”

  Annie motioned for them to calm down. “As long as that’s all that happened it’s no big deal.”

  He froze and brought his hand to his chin. “Why is that?”

  Annie shrugged. “I’d just hate to see you mixed up with someone like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “A slut,” Lisa said.

  He glared at Lisa. “She’s not a slut. She’s an old friend, so please watch what you call her.”

  Lisa harrumphed and crossed her arms. Anna smiled at him as if he were a child. “You’re a man, so of course you see it that way. I’m a married woman and I don’t have any remorse for a woman who fools around with a married man.”

  “He lied to her and said he was getting a divorce.” He said.

  Lisa harrumphed again before Anna replied. “Doesn’t change what she did.”

  The accusing tone in Anna’s voice caused him to regret even more the way he’d spoken to Shayla the day before. Everywhere she went in town she must get the same response from other married women. Although he didn’t condone what she’d done, the situation wasn’t entirely her fault. “All I’m saying is that if he hadn’t lied about his marriage, she wouldn’t have been with him.”

  Lisa sucked her teeth. “Almost divorced and divorced are two different things. That girl’s just like her daddy. She probably thought she had a right to him. Watch your back, doctor.” She turned and left his office. “Oh, and your first patient is in room one.” She tossed over her shoulder.

  He looked at Anna. “Shayla isn’t a bad person.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “I don’t know her very well. But it doesn’t look good. Now, I’m a Christian so I’m not gonna say she deserved to lose her job, but God does show people when they’re wrong.”

  He heard the back door open as his other nurse, Kia, came in. It must be close to nine. He stood up and grabbed his lab coat off the rack behind his desk. “I think she learned her lesson,” he said to Anna.

  She moved away from his desk toward the door. “For her sake, and the sake of the married women in town, I hope so.”

  He rubbed his forehead as she walked out. He’d had the same disparaging thoughts about Shayla’s relationship, and even though he believed her story, he’d allowed his feelings from the past to rule. Just because she’d hurt him in high school didn’t mean he had to join the line of people waiting to throw stones.

  He grabbed his stethoscope off the coat rack, before getting his light pen and an ink pen off his desk and putting it in the lab coat pocket. Grabbing the lab results for his first patient, he left his office. Kia was scrambling to get her purse and keys hung in the hall closet. She smiled shyly at him beneath thick lashes. She was a cute girl, but at twenty-three she was too young for him. Besides, she was Shayla’s cousin and reminded him too much of her.

  “Good morning, Dr. Jones,” she said smiling.

  “Morning, Kia.” He returned her smile before grabbing the chart out of the bin and entering exam room one. “Good morning, Mr. Jones. Luckily we were able to get your lab results in time for today’s visit.”

  “Don’t Mr. Jones me, boy.” Roscoe Jones said with an exaggerated frown. Although his scowl was meant to be severe, the twinkle in his eyes softened the look.

  Devin smiled and hugged his dad. Roscoe thumped him on the back with the same strength he’d had when Devin was a boy. He resembled his dad, with the same long nos
e, high cheekbones and bronze skin. But his dad was close to thirty pounds overweight and battling diabetes. No matter how much Devin fussed, his dad refused to listen. Food became his comfort after his wife died five years ago. It was a devastating blow after losing his first wife, Devin’s mom, nearly sixteen years ago. When his stepmom died, his dad was left with Devin and his stepbrother Javaris, who was eight years younger than Devin.

  When Devin leaned back the smile left his face. “Your blood glucose levels are off the charts. Did you fast before coming in to give blood?”

  Roscoe scowled and sat on the exam table. “You can’t expect a grown man to go without food in the morning. Ain’t I supposed to eat breakfast to start up my metabolism?”

  Devin sighed. “Yes, on most days, but not when you’re giving blood for lab work.” He looked at the chart. “What did you eat, anyway?”

  “Nothing big. Just some frosted flakes.”

  Devin’s eyes bulged. “You’re joking.”

  Roscoe held up his hand. “I measured out a cup and it was the low sugar kind.”

  “There is no low sugar frosted flakes.” Devin sat the chart on the exam table and crossed his arms. “Dad, you have diabetes, you can’t eat like this anymore.”

  As if Devin’s words didn’t make sense he asked, “Then what the hell do you give me all that medicine for? Isn’t that supposed to help?”

  Devin rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Dad, they’re supposed to help, but you have to do your part. Diet, exercise, and medicine. Not eat frosted flakes before a blood test.”

  “So, I can eat them without a blood test?”

  Devin’s head snapped up, but he relaxed when he saw the teasing glint in Roscoe’s eyes.

  “Dad, watch what you eat, please. I just visited a patient who had their foot amputated because of diabetes complications. I really don’t want that to be you.”

  His dad stopped smiling and sighed. “I hear you, I hear you. So, what else does my blood say?”

  Knowing that was as close to a promise he’d get from his dad, Devin went over the rest of the items on the chart. His dad’s blood pressure was elevated. When Devin said he’d need to come back in two weeks for him to check it again, and that if it was high he’d have to prescribe something, Roscoe just grumbled something about white coat anxiety. Ignoring it, Devin continued to try and reiterate to his dad that at sixty-five he couldn’t go around eating like he was sixteen anymore. By the end of the visit they were both frustrated.

  Devin decided to make more time to visit his dad. After losing his second wife, Roscoe moved to a house in the outskirts of the county. With Devin’s schedule he didn’t make it out to visit as often as he liked, but he’d have to do better if he wanted to make sure his dad was taking care of himself. His stepbrother moved to Charlotte after graduating college, and Devin only saw him on the occasional Christmas he decided to visit.

  “So I’ll see you in two weeks,” Devin said at the end of the exam.

  His dad nodded. “Yeah, but you’re filling my truck with gas. It’s a long way to drive in to your office.”

  Devin smiled. “No one told you to move out to the boondocks.”

  “It’s peaceful. I like it,” Roscoe said getting off the exam table. He placed his hand on Devin’s shoulder to get his attention from writing notes on the chart. “I wanted to talk to you about Shayla Monroe.”

  Devin gripped the pen in his hand. “What about her?”

  Roscoe held up his hands. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t have a problem with the girl. But Anna couldn’t wait to tell me that you drove her home last night.”

  “And if I did?”

  “What you do is your business. Forget what everybody in this town thinks, I know Shayla isn’t a bad person. I remember when you two used to hang out together, before she hooked up with that fool Tony. I could see then that she was looking for love, hell, I hoped you would come to your senses and ask the girl out.”

  Devin looked back at the chart but didn’t see anything on the paper. Instead his mind’s eye saw Shayla sitting at the dinner table with him and his dad years ago. How she’d tell silly jokes and bring candy to cheer them up after his mom died. “I did ask her out,” he said softly.

  Roscoe leaned closer. “What happened?”

  His lips formed a grim line. “She hooked up with Tony. Shayla and I were always just friends. Nothing more.” He turned to face his father. “Look, Dad, there’s nothing to worry about with me and Shayla. I just gave her a ride, but everyone in my office is trying to link us together. It’s not like that.”

  Roscoe nodded and stepped back. “All I’m saying is that the girl might need a friend. Coming back to this town filled with fools who’d rather see you fall on your face than give you a hand is hard enough without the scandal she’s got floating around her. Y’all were friends once. She might need a friend again.”

  Guilt jumped on his back and put a stranglehold around his neck. Shayla did need a friend, not someone else ready to tear her to shreds. But could he do that? Could he get past the years of hurt and befriend her? He couldn’t avoid her. They were joined by mutual friends and were bound to run into each other. It would be easier to do that if there was no hostility between them.

  With a resigned nod he looked at his dad. “I’ll see how things pan out.”

  His dad smiled. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Devin’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “You’ve actually said a lot this morning.”

  Roscoe laughed. “It’s not often I get to give you advice, Dr. Jones.” He turned toward the door and Devin followed. “Let me get out of here. I know you’ve got a lobby full of patients by now.”

  Devin sighed. “Yeah, my last patient is at 5:45.”

  Roscoe nodded and gave Devin a pat on the back. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Devin watched as his dad exited the exam area for the reception area. Through the door he saw the lobby was full.

  “Are you ready for your next patient, Dr. Jones?” Kia asked.

  Devin turned to the young girl and smiled. “Yes, Kia, I’m ready.

  Chapter 5

  With a sigh, Shayla turned off the library computer. As expected, there weren’t any jobs in Helena, but there were a few interesting positions in Columbia and Charlotte. She’d spent the day taking notes on the various jobs she saw, calling the contacts she had in Atlanta that had taken her side in the fallout after the affair to ask for references, and updating her resume and cover letter. Her brother was right, she didn’t have to rush and find a job. Fear that someone would recognize her name had kept her finger hovering over the send button on many emails to hiring managers. But her need to leave town finally forced her to hit send.

  On her way out of the library she stopped to admire a painting on the wall near the entrance. She wouldn’t call herself an art connoisseur, but she did love art. Something about the painting intrigued her. She’d spent a good portion of the day staring at it.

  It wasn’t an elaborate painting of the Helena town square, but the colors were so vibrant and the strokes of the painting so bold she felt as if she could walk into it. It was the only piece of original art work in the small library. She leaned in to get a better look at the initials of the painter.

  “T.C.,” she said to herself.

  “Tyrell Crawford, he’s the artist.” One of the staff librarians said walking up to Shayla.

  Shayla nodded and stepped back from the painting. “It’s beautiful.”

  The older woman smiled and gazed at the canvas. “It is. Tyrell is a local celebrity, or at least he is in Columbia. But we’re close enough to claim him,” she said with a laugh.

  “I guess so.”

  The librarian pointed at the work of art. “He did that last year as part of his small town collection. His work is
so true to life it’s as if you’re really there. He painted two portraits of our square, along with the downtowns of other small cities around Columbia. One was donated to each town, the other he’s selling in a silent auction in a few weeks.”

  Intrigued she asked, “How old is he?”

  The lady shook her head. “He’s in his thirties, I think. Married to Senator Robert Watts’ older daughter. That’s why he’s such a celebrity, a politician’s son-in-law who also is an artist. He’s got the Columbia art scene abuzz.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Really, I would imagine someone who painted this well would be older. There’s a cynicism to this painting that speaks of someone with years behind them.”

  She looked back at the canvas. On the surface it was a beautiful portrait showing any given Sunday in Helena, but subtle things undermined the down home feel. Most of the people in the painting were families smiling or children playing. Upon a closer look there was the homeless man everyone ignored sitting on the stoop at the end of Main Street clutching a brown bag in his hand. One of the mothers in the painting scolded her child who had tears in his blue eyes. And one of the kids in a group standing outside of the drugstore was hiding candy under his jacket while looking over his shoulder, the drug store owner was peering out of the window scowling. Most people who passed the painting and gave it a quick look wouldn’t notice, but Tyrell painted what was beneath the idyllic setting.

  The librarian tilted her head to the side. “Really, I don’t get that.”

  The corner of Shayla’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “Maybe it’s just me. So when is his auction? I wouldn’t mind seeing the rest of his work.”

  Smiling brightly, the librarian walked over to a table with various brochures and flyers and brought back one. “Here’s more information. It’s a few weeks from now in Columbia. It should be a great show.”

  Shayla took the flyer. “Thanks, have a great day.”