Farewell to Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  Saturdays were usually busy at the yarn shop, so I wasn’t surprised to glance at my watch and see it was going on four. Dora had left at two and I wouldn’t be closing for another hour, so I decided to unpack a new shipment of yarn that had arrived earlier.

  I opened the box and discovered some yummy Manos del Uruguay Fino, an extrafine merino and silk. The colors were gorgeous, and I loved the names that went with them—Watered Silk, Silhouette, and Antique Lace. One was called Crystal Goblet and was a beautiful greenish beige. I recalled that I had recently seen a pattern for a shawl called Pluma Shawlette and knew I was going to have to search for the pattern and purchase the yarn. I also knew that once I returned to my nursing position, I’d probably be saving myself some money.

  I turned around when I heard the door chimes, and I saw Saxton Tate walk in.

  “Hey, Josie,” he said, looking around. He appeared to be hesitant about walking farther into the shop.

  “Saxton, good to see you. Berkley mentioned you’d be stopping by to sign up for the class.”

  “She did? Am I the first one?”

  “No, not at all,” I said, attempting to put him at ease. “You’ll be number four.”

  “Really?”

  I laughed. “Yes, really. My dad has signed up and so has Doyle, and we have a winter resident on the island who is also confirmed.”

  “Oh, good. Good,” he said, and I saw the expression on his face relax. “So just tell me what I need to do.”

  “The class is forty dollars for the four weeks. You’ll be using our stash yarn to begin with, but then you’ll be making a simple scarf.” I walked to the wall and gestured. “So choose a skein of anything in here that you think you might like as a scarf, and I’ll get your needles for you.”

  He returned to the counter a few minutes later with a skein of Berroco worsted in shades of blue.

  “Very nice,” I said. “And it’s machine washable, which is great. Okay. I’ll total you up.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll get the hang of this knitting, but I thought I’d give it a shot. I thought it might be fun for Berkley and me to knit together.”

  I laughed. “Hey, the couple that knits together stays together. Are you working on another mystery?”

  Saxton was originally from England and a best-selling mystery author. He was now with a publisher in the States, and everybody on the island enjoyed his books.

  “I’m on a break at the moment, till after the holidays. That’s why I thought it might be good to do the knitting class now.”

  I passed him his bag. “Well, I think you’ll enjoy it, and I’ll see you on October first.”

  I watched him leave and thought that Berkley was pretty fortunate to have found such a nice man to spend her time with, which caused me to question if perhaps I wanted a man in my life. I knew for certain that Ben wasn’t that person. I thought back to when I’d first met Grant, the fun we’d had together, the mind-blowing sex and the love that we shared. Even though it probably wasn’t meant to be a permanent kind of love, he had taught me that being with one special person could make life a lot more fulfilling.

  I pushed those thoughts out of my head and prepared to close the shop for the day. That was when I remembered that Orli and I were expected for dinner at my parents’ after I left work. Oh, great, I thought, now I have to go deal with my mother’s attitude about Orli and me not being here for Christmas.

  “Delicious, Dad,” I said, wiping my lips with the linen napkin. Even dining on the patio for a barbeque, my mother used her good china, glassware, and linen napkins.

  My father laughed. “Only hamburgers and hot dogs, but glad you enjoyed it.”

  “More wine?” my mother asked, holding up the bottle of Bella Sera Pinot.

  “Yes, please. That’s a good one.” I was like my mother in that respect. Very fussy about my wine selections and usually leaning toward reds or a dry white. “It’s a shame Jane couldn’t have stayed till tomorrow. I was looking forward to visiting with her.”

  “Yes, I know, but she got that call about the plumbing problem at the library, and as the director she felt she should head back and make sure everything was taken care of, so she left this morning.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to see her, too, and she missed a good dinner. That was great potato salad, Nana,” Orli said.

  “Thanks, honey. I got the recipe out of some magazine. So how’s school going? What’s new with you?”

  “Fine,” Orli told her as she shot a glance to me across the table. We had agreed that I would bring up the subject of my new job and our trip following dinner. “Yup, everything is good.”

  I took a sip of wine, attempting to boost my courage. I dreaded confrontations with my mother, and I knew not spending Christmas with her would create one.

  “Well,” I said, and began fingering my napkin. “I have some good news for you.”

  “Great,” my father said. “Let’s hear it.”

  “First of all . . . I have a new nursing position. I was hired yesterday by Dr. Mancini to work in his office.”

  “That’s terrific,” my father said, reaching over to give my hand a squeeze. “Good for you. I’m very happy for you, Josie.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I glanced over at my mother and saw her pursed lips.

  “So,” she said. “I guess you’ve given up on trying for a hospital position?”

  No That’s great, Josie. No words of support.

  “Well . . . right now hospital positions are at a minimum, and besides, I much prefer to work right here on the island rather than spend time and money traveling back and forth to Gainesville.”

  My mother nodded. “Hmm, that’s true. Well . . . yes. Of course I’m happy for you, too, Josie. When do you start?”

  I took another sip of wine. “That’s the great part. Simon said . . .”

  “Simon?” my mother questioned. “You’re calling your employer by his first name? That was unheard of in my day.”

  “Mom, you’re only sixty-eight, and yes, he told me to call him that. Of course in the office I’ll refer to him as Dr. Mancini. But anyway, he said, due to the remodeling of the office, he’s not planning to open until January. So I’ll be able to finish up at the yarn shop till Chloe comes back and it’ll work out great.”

  “Yes, I’m sure Dora will appreciate that. Well, good. If you’re happy with this position, then so am I.”

  I saw Orli stare at me with raised eyebrows as if to say Keep going.

  “Also,” I said, “there’s another reason why the starting date works out so well.” I paused and saw the expectant look on my mother’s face. “Grant called a few weeks ago. As you know, Orli has a special birthday this year. So . . . he’s invited both of us up there to spend Christmas and celebrate her birthday. He’s purchasing the plane tickets for us, and we can stay with him at his new condo.”

  I took a deep breath after I got it all out and waited for my mother’s reaction, but she remained silent, leaving it once again to my father to pick up the slack.

  “Oh, that’s a great idea,” he said. “That’s very generous of Grant, and I know he’ll love having you both there for the holiday and the birthday.”

  Still my mother said nothing.

  “Mom?” I questioned. “Are you okay with this?”

  She took a sip of wine before saying, “Well . . . I suppose I have to be. It seems the plans are all in place. So . . . you won’t be here for Christmas? I mean, even when Orli spends the holiday up there, you’re here with us.”

  “But Nan,” Orli said, “we’ll both be here for Thanksgiving. We’ll be spending that holiday with you. You know how we always enjoy that day together.”

  My mother nodded. “Yes . . . you’re right. I’ll just have to get used to the idea of not having either one of you here for Christmas.”

  Yes, you will, I thought. But I wasn’t convinced that I’d heard the last about this subject.

  11

  “I am so happy for you, Josie,” Ma
llory said as she leaned across the table at the Pickled Pelican. “Both because of the new job and your trip to Boston. It seems things are heading in a good direction for you.”

  “Yeah, all except for my mom. I don’t think she’s too thrilled about me working in a doctor’s office, and I know she’s not happy about Orli and me not being here for Christmas.”

  “Ah, well, she’ll have to adjust.”

  “Anything else?” Brandy asked as she waved our check in her hand.

  “Coffee for me,” I said. “I’m off work this afternoon so no rush.”

  “Same for me,” Mallory told her.

  I watched Brandy go back inside to get our coffee and wondered if she was happy with her waitressing job. She always struck me as bored, as if she’d much rather be doing something else.

  When she returned and placed the coffee in front of us, I said, “Brandy, can you type?”

  The wide streak of red in her dark hair seemed to glow in the sun, and her nose and eyebrow rings always made me feel this was some sort of statement she hoped others would notice.

  “Can I type?” she asked, clearly surprised by my question. “Yeah, I can type. I learned in high school. Why?”

  “Well, I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but . . . we have a new doctor coming to town to open a practice. I’ll be working there as his RN, and he’s looking for an office girl.”

  “Oh, you mean that dude you had lunch with here last week? Was that him?”

  “Right.”

  “Whew, he sure is hot, isn’t he? My friends are calling him Doctor McDreamy.”

  I laughed. Leave it to the kids to notice a good-looking guy on the island.

  “Well . . . gee . . . I don’t know. I mean, yeah, I’d love to quit waitressing. But what would I have to do in a doctor’s office? I’m not into giving shots and that kinda stuff.”

  I laughed again. “Ah, no. That would be my job. You’d be expected to answer the phone, make appointments, greet the patients when they arrive, that sort of thing, and we’d teach you anything else you might need to do.”

  She plunked down on the empty chair at our table. “Really? Well, heck, I could do that. I know I could. Geez, yeah. I’d love to work in a doctor’s office. I mean . . . wow, that’s like a professional job, isn’t it?”

  I felt a smile cross my face and said, “Yes, it could be. So you think you might be interested? It wouldn’t start until January. The office is being redone, so would January work for you?”

  “Sure. That would be great. I could give my notice here and even take the holidays off. I still live at home, so I don’t think my parents would mind if I don’t pay rent for a couple weeks.”

  “Well, give me your phone number, and I’ll have Dr. Mancini give you a call. He’ll want to meet you for an interview.”

  “Oh,” she said, and paused. “Well . . . gee . . . I kinda met him the other day. Doesn’t that count?”

  “Ah . . . no. ’Fraid not. You’d have to do a formal interview with him. You’d discuss hours, salary, that sort of thing. It’s a professional job, remember?”

  “Oh, right,” she said, but her expression showed concern.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get together with you before you go and kind of walk you through a practice interview.”

  “Really? Oh, Miss Josie, that would be super. Thanks. Thanks so much. I’ll get my number to you in a minute.” She jumped up and ran inside.

  Mallory laughed. “Hmm, I’d say you made that girl’s day. Actually, you may have made her month.”

  I nodded and smiled. “You think?”

  Brandy returned and handed me a piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it.

  I tucked it into my handbag. “Okay. I’ll give Dr. Mancini your number, so you can expect a call from him. When is a good time to get together for our mock interview?”

  “I’m off work tomorrow morning.”

  “Good. I don’t have to be at the yarn shop till two. Why don’t you come by my house in the morning? Like around ten?”

  “Sounds great,” she said before rushing back inside the restaurant. Then she paused and turned around. “Oh, and thanks, Miss Josie.”

  I had called Simon the night before to tell him about Brandy. He was quite interested in doing an interview with her and planned to call her when we hung up.

  I began slicing the banana bread that had been cooling on the counter when I heard the doorbell. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was just before ten. A good trait for an employee to have—arriving on time.

  “Hey,” I said, opening the door wider for Brandy to enter. “Come on in the kitchen. I have coffee and banana bread.”

  “This is so nice of you to coach me. I’ve never done a formal interview before. And the doctor called me last night. I have an interview with him this Friday at eleven.”

  Brandy took a seat at the table while I filled two mugs. “Really? How’d you get the job at the Pelican?” I asked, as I made a mental note that Simon would be back on the island in a couple days.

  “Oh, well, my sister worked there, but she quit when she got married, so she just told the owner that I’d take her place. I mean, we met for a few minutes so he could explain the job and hours, but . . . that was it. What will this interview be like?”

  I placed two plates of banana bread on the table and joined her.

  “Not really that different. Dr. Mancini will explain the hours and your salary.” I glanced at her very short cutoffs and stained T-shirt. “But you’ll want to dress appropriately for the interview.”

  I saw by the expression on her face that she wasn’t following me, and she remained silent.

  “You know,” I said, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “Like a nice pair of slacks or skirt and a top.”

  She nodded. “Oh. Right. I have the ones I wear to church.”

  “Exactly. Something like that.” I watched her break off a piece of banana bread and pop it into her mouth. “Make sure your hair looks good, too, and not too much makeup.” I wasn’t sure there was much hope for the red-streaked spiky hair, but I hoped that maybe she’d tone down the heavy makeup. She was such a pretty girl, but the black lining her eyes made her look a bit fierce.

  She ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “Oh . . . Like the way I look when I go to church?”

  “Exactly,” I said again. “You want to present a professional appearance. So, yes, copy the way you look when you go to church.” I took another sip of coffee, feeling that our practice session was going well.

  “Right . . . but . . . I don’t have to look like that when I’m actually working, do I?”

  Maybe this wasn’t going as well as I’d thought. I cleared my throat and said, “Well, that’s one of the questions that you’ll need to ask Dr. Mancini. Jot down some questions that you have before the interview and bring them with you. Ask him about a dress code—what he expects you to wear in the office.”

  “Oh, like a uniform?”

  I laughed. “You won’t be expected to wear a uniform, but he might tell you that he doesn’t want you working in the office in shorts or tank tops, or . . . I really don’t know what his dress code will be, but just bear in mind that a skirt, or cropped pants or slacks, and a nice blouse or top is always appropriate. But that’s something that you need to discuss with him.”

  Brandy nodded her head emphatically. “Okay. Got it.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure he’ll ask how your typing is, if you understand a filing system and that sort of thing. But you certainly can’t be expected to understand the duties of a receptionist right away. He knows this will be your first job doing this type of work, so I’m sure he’ll explain how he’d like things to be done. Now let’s just role play here a little bit,” I said, and saw the bewildered expression on her face. “You know—let’s pretend. I’ll be a patient coming into the office. You’re sitting here at your desk. What’s the first thing you’d say to the patient?”

  I saw Brandy’s shoulders go back, a
nd she sat up straighter in the chair. “Hello?”

  I laughed and nodded. “Yes, hello is good. But people like to be referred to by their name. So even better would be something like, ‘Hello, Miss Chloe.’ ”

  “Oh, is Miss Chloe going to be seen there for her broken arm?”

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. “I’m just using Chloe’s name as an example.”

  “Oh . . . gotcha.”

  “Okay, so you’ve said hello. Now what?” I asked, and saw another confused expression on her face. “You might make a little small talk, like about the weather or something. People are normally a bit nervous when they’re seeing the doctor. They’re there because they don’t feel well, so it’s nice to put them at ease.”

  “Okay. Right. Do you have . . . ah . . . like a piece of paper and pencil? Maybe I should write all of this down.”

  Not a bad idea. I got up and rummaged in my counter drawer and gave her a small notebook and ink pen, and then waited while she made some notes.

  She then glanced up at me, an expectant look on her face. “Got it. Then what?”

  “Well, now this is when you’ll check your appointment book against the actual time. Sometimes patients arrive early or late. You’ll also have to determine if the doctor is running behind, and if so, you should let the patient know this. For instance, you might tell her that Dr. Mancini is running about ten minutes behind. This is a courtesy to the patient. If it’s longer than ten minutes, the patient might want to run to the post office or something, rather than have to wait in the office.”

  Brandy scribbled away and then looked up. “Right. That makes sense.”

  “And if the doctor is on schedule, you can just say, ‘Please have a seat.’ ”

  Again, she wrote down what I’d said.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Well, you’ll be answering the phone, and phone etiquette is important too. How do you answer the phone at the restaurant?”