by Peggy Jaeger
“What kind of tests?” Moira asked. She’d made herself sit on her hands in an attempt to keep them quiescent.
“Nothing major, don’t worry,” Dr. Rogers said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I want to see if you have a parasitic infection, maybe caused by something you ate while you were overseas. Food preparation in other countries isn’t what it is here.”
“That’s for sure,” Moira responded. “I’ve been in some cities that aren’t exactly known for their cleanliness. Sometimes I even wanted to take a shower with bottled water because I was worried about the tap.”
Dr. Rogers smiled. “I did an elective at a clinic in the Sudan after medical school. The villagers had never seen actual running water. They got their supply from the same stream their farm animals used to bathe in and drink from.”
“How certain are you it’s some kind of infection?” Serena asked. “Because my daughter seems convinced this is all stress related and not something identifiable which can be treated.”
“Well, stress can be identified and treated,” Rogers said. Addressing Moira she asked, “Have you been under a lot of it lately?”
With a quick glance at her mother, Moira told the doctor, “I’m a concert pianist and I’ve been touring with a traveling symphony for over four years. The pressure to give a world-class performance every night, at every concert, can be a little daunting at times. I thought because I’m always eating my meals out and the emotional and mental weight from playing for such an elite ensemble might have led to these pains.”
“And you said they’ve been going on for about a month or so?”
“Give or take.”
“And nothing else changed during that time? You hadn’t been sick or under any other kind of strain? Emotional? Physical?”
Again, Moira glanced at her mother and then back to the doctor.
Serena suddenly rose from her chair and said, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment I just remembered I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”
Dr. Rogers grinned at Serena’s retreating back. “Your mother is very tactful,” she said, when the door behind her closed.
“That’s one word for it,” Moira said with a lopsided grin.
“So, why don’t we take this opportunity for you to tell me exactly what happened about the same time you started having the pains?”
Moira stared into the doctor’s kind eyes and saw nothing but compassion and gentleness. Realizing she’d never have a better person to divulge her secret to, Moira told her exactly what had been eating her alive.
****
“So that’s it?” Serena asked an hour later.
“Yeah. She’ll have the results of the tests by tomorrow, but in the meantime I need to get this antibiotic filled, take it twice a day for two weeks to begin with, start eating properly and not skipping meals and try to incorporate a little bit more than bread into my diet. She also told me to lay off the antacids and gave me a prescription for something better, something that would work on a daily basis and not just a few hours.”
“I’m so glad you saw her, Baby.” Serena squeezed her daughter’s hand.
“I am, too.” And for more than just the physical part of the exam, Moira realized.
“So what would you like to do now?” Serena asked. “Feel up to lunch?”
When she glanced down at her watch, Moira saw it was close to noon. “How about we get something to go and bring it to the clinic? I promised Quentin I’d help him out today. And I’d really like to see the horses again.”
“Just the horses?”
“Well, Daddy and Pat too.”
A few minutes later, armed with several different kinds of sandwiches and salads, Moira and Serena walked through the clinic’s main doors.
“Daddy and Pat are both on clinic duty today,” Serena told her, with a wave and a smile to the receptionist as they made their way back to the offices. “They usually eat in daddy’s room before their afternoon starts.”
True to form, both senior Cleary men were comfortably seated in Seamus’s office.
“We come bearing food,” Serena said as they walked in. Hugs and kisses were given all around and Moira was prompted to tell her father and brother about her morning doctor’s visit.
“So she thinks you’ve got some kind of intestinal bug?” Pat asked.
“Yeah. She took a lot of blood and some body fluids I don’t want to name,” she added, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, “and she thinks she’ll have all the results back by tomorrow or the day after. Until then I start on an antibiotic and a prescription antacid.”
“Plus she has to start eating better,” Serena added.
“Well, eating properly won’t be a problem with your mother’s cooking,” Seamus said, smiling at his wife.
“You certainly brought enough food.” Pat took a sandwich and soft drink from a bag.
“It’s not all for you, chow dog. We got something for Q as well. I’m going to go run it down to him.” Turning to her mother she added, “He’ll probably coerce me into working for him for a few hours. Do you mind?”
“Not at all, Baby. Call me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll send Steps or Denny to pick you up. No worries.”
Moira nodded, kissed her father on the head, stuck her tongue out at her brother, and grabbed two bags from the bunch they’d brought in.
When she walked into the equine center, she immediately listened for the tune of the day. Mozart’s Wiegenlied for piano.
Simple. Subtle. Beautiful.
“Looking for the boss?” Connor asked from one of the nearby horse stalls.
“Is he here, or out riding?”
Connor shot his thumb in the direction of an office. “He had some calls to make so he’s in there. Go on in. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” he added with a huge grin.
Moira thanked him and before going into the office made a quick stop by Crystal’s stall. The mare looked better than she had the day before. Her coat was shiny, her tail had been brushed and groomed, and a full pallet of hay was currently being munched on. Moira gave her a quick pat on the rump and whispered in her ear the promise of an after lunch ride.
After one outing, Moira was already in love.
She knocked on the half closed office door, peeking her head in at the same time. Quentin was on the phone, an open bottle of water in front of him. He motioned for her to come in.
“Yeah Jack, she’s doing great. You can pick her up tomorrow afternoon. I want to get two more doses of the steroid into her and she should be good to go by then.”
Moira put the bags of food on an open space on his desk. Not an easy feat, since it was completely filled with charts, veterinary books, and a case of IV solutions.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.” Ending the call Quentin stood and came around the desk to give Moira a hug. “I see you come bearing gifts.”
She laughed and said, “Food gifts, courtesy of Mom. We were out and figured we’d feed the men folk. Daddy and Pat are up at the main house eating theirs right now.”
“Your mother has always known the quickest way to the hearts of her men is through their stomachs. I’m happy to be included in the group.”
Moira smiled. “I stopped by Crystal’s stall on the way in here and she looks good. Better than yesterday, for sure.”
“And getting better every day. I’m glad you’re here, M. Feel like taking her out for a ride?”
“I already promised her I would if it was okay with you.”
“You know it is. And it’ll do her good. I’d like to get her home by the weekend.”
Moira nodded and glanced around the office. Various veterinary degrees and licenses hung on one wall arranged in chronological order. A full wall of bookcases, packed and stacked, took up another, a small couch and two chairs circled the room and Quentin’s desk sat in front of the only windows in it.
And what beautiful windows they were. Floor-to-ceiling, one entire wall-wide, they overlooked the rolling
valley behind the clinic.
“Nice view,” she said.
He didn’t even turn around to see where her eyes were. “I’m not stupid. I put my office on this side of the building for the landscape alone. It’s nice to be able to look out here any time of the day. Even in the winter with the hills covered with snow and the trees bare, it’s still stunning. Especially on a sunny day.”
“You always had a good eye for details. I think if this was my office I’d want my desk right here as well.”
“Great minds think alike, M.”
“Whose house is that?” She pointed to a structure about a quarter mile in the distance. It sat at the peak of the hill.
Quentin smiled. “Mine.”
“Oh my God, you bought a house? When?”
“About six months ago, just after we finished construction on this building. I figured I couldn’t live in my parents place forever, and I knew I wanted to be close by if I was needed, so it seemed like the perfect place.”
“I want to see it,” she said.
His smile was wide. “Open invitation. Any time.”
“It looks huge.”
He nodded, swigging his drink. “Five bedrooms, six baths, an office, huge kitchen and dining room. And a full finished basement, which serves as my man cave.”
“Let me guess, ridiculously huge screen TV, video game’s, pool table. Did I miss anything?”
“The high tech stereo system and an air hockey table. My brothers want to move in with me,” he added with a laugh.
“If I was their age I would too.”
He stared at her a minute as he chewed the sub sandwich she’d brought him. “So, are you gonna tell me how your doctor’s appointment went?”
She cocked her head to one side and squinted. With a frown she said, “My brother has a big mouth.”
“Don’t be mad at Pat. I asked him last night. He’s really worried about you. We all are.”
She blew out a breath and took a long drink of water. “I know.”
“So?” He let the word dangle in the air.
Quickly, and with the least amount of detail she could muster, she told him about her visit with Dr. Rogers. “She’s really nice, not to mention gorgeous.”
“We met her a few months ago at a Rotary meeting,” he told her. “She made quite an impression. Especially on your brother.”
His mischievous smile had her saying, “Oh? Tell me.”
“Goes against the guy code, M. You know that. But I can tell you this,” he added, his grin spreading even wider. “He struck out.”
A laugh flew from her lips. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
“There sure is. But it hasn’t discouraged him. If anything, it’s made him more determined.”
Moira brought the picture of the attractive doctor to mind. Auburn hair had been tied back in a knot at the nape of her neck, and strong caramel colored eyes hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses could not disguise the woman’s natural loveliness. Skin like porcelain, glowing and alive with health, and a body, which, even though it was covered with a lab coat, looked enticing. A sudden thought flew into Moira’s head. “What about you, Q?”
“What about me?”
“Seeing anyone? It’s been a while since I’ve been home and I’m a little down on the family gossip.”
Quentin stared at her, his face blank.
“Anyone new in your life? Last time we talked I think you were seeing Casie Rodman.”
He took a breath, swallowed, and said, “That was a while ago, M. She’s married now and has a kid on the way.”
“Who’d she marry?”
“Pete Decans. Remember him? He was a grade ahead of us.”
“Point guard, right?” she said, trying to picture him. She was able to remember a lanky, thin, red haired teenager.
“Yeah.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Moira studied him. He was unusually quiet, and Moira couldn’t figure out why.
“So?” She asked. “Are you? Seeing anyone?”
He took a long pull of his water. When the bottle was empty, he tossed it into a small recycling bin in the corner and said, “Things have been pretty busy around here, as you’ve seen for yourself. Basically, I work, and I work. No time for socializing.”
“Almost my life to a T,” she said, her lips twisting into a grin, “except I’ve been gallivanting all over Europe, not stuck here in Carvan.”
“The three of us have always been such workaholics. Pat’s the only one who manages to squeeze in a social life.”
Moira chuckled. “He mentioned an un-named redhead the other night. Without violating guy code, what can you divulge?”
“If I tell you anything, I’ll have to marry you so you can’t testify against me.” His smile was wicked and quick.
“Okay. I get it,” she said finishing her water. “You guys always were good secret keepers. Even better than me.”
“Oh I don’t know, M.” He leaned back in his chair, tilting it on its back legs, and studied her. “I think you kept the secret about you, Jimmy Payson, and what went on under the high school bleachers pretty well.”
Moira felt her face flush with heat. “How the heck do you know about what happened with him?”
“A secret’s only a secret if no one blabs. Payson had a big mouth back then,” he told her with a shake of his head. “Pat and I had to shut it for him one day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say the little romantic episode under the bleachers in the eleventh grade between you and him wasn’t as private as you thought.”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you and Pat know. Does anyone else?”
“No. We did a pretty good job shutting him up before he could tell the whole football team. He never said a word afterward.”
“I always wondered why he broke up with me. Now I guess I know. He was probably terrified of the two of you. Singularly, you can each be intimidating. I can’t imagine how terrifying together you are.”
“The guy was a jerk, M. You were way better off without him.”
“Easy for you to say, but he broke up with me right before junior prom and I already had my dress.”
“But you had the best date ever, if I remember correctly,” he said with a grin, making her heart speed up a little. “And I always do.”
“Yes,” she said. “You do. And by the way, why don’t you fill me in on how you knew I needed a replacement date. I never told anyone he broke up with me.”
Sheepishly, he replied, “After Pat and I had our little talk with him, I heard Payson say he was done with you. I took it to mean he was dumping you and wasn’t going to take you to prom. I asked Pat the next day and he confirmed it.” He shrugged and took a drink of water. “I knew you’d been looking forward to going, so since I was half the cause of you being dateless I figured the only right thing to do would be to take you myself. It didn’t work out so badly. I remember we had a pretty good time.”
Moira nodded. “We did.”
“Look,” he said, rising, “I’d like nothing better than to sit here all afternoon and catch up, but there’s a lot of work to be done. You up for a little manual labor?”
“I am if part of it includes taking Crystal for a ride.”
“Exactly what I had in mind. An hour or so will do her good. When you get back we can discuss when you’d like to come in again and what you’d like to do.”
“Okay, I’ll go get her saddled up.”
An hour later, Moira rode Crystal back to her stall and groomed her.
Quentin came and gave her a hand. “How’d she do?”
“Just great, right girl?” She patted the horse’s rump as she brushed her down.
Quentin took a moment to examine her teeth and eyes. “She looks good.”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Moira said. “Whose idea was the classical music?”
Quentin tucked his head and Moira was surprised to see a fl
ushed redness cross his neck. “Mine,” he told her. “The horses really respond to the music.”
“Why did you decide to use classical? You and my brother, like I said last night, have never liked it. The exact phrase your guys always used was, ‘classical crap.’”
“Pat’s description, not mine. I never called it that,” he said, arms folded across his chest.
“You’ve never called it anything else either. Like entertaining.” His face reddened and she was surprised by what looked like embarrassment crossing it.
“Guilty,” he said, “but with a defense.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
He stared at her across the horse’s head. “I went along with it when we were kids because I didn’t want Pat to think I was a wimp. If he knew I liked it, liked hearing you play it, he would have made my life miserable, best friend or not. But I’ll tell you now, M, I think the stuff you play is amazing. Truly. It’s so beautiful, sometimes I find myself stopping when I’m working just to listen to it. I really think the horses enjoy it. It serves some kind of soothing, primordial need in them.”
Moira’s mouth flew open the second he’d called what she played amazing. No other complement could have made her feel more appreciated, given her more validity than to hear her oldest friend tell her he admired her music. Swallowing the strange emotions suddenly bubbling up within her, she said, “I’ve read so many studies about experiments with music, babies and animals. Every single one of them has stated the calming and medicinal effects it has on them.”
With a nod he told her, “There have been a lot of studies in my veterinary journals as well. The music you play, M, is like magic. And I’ve heard you play enough times to tell you, you play like magic too.”
Moira was so touched she couldn’t speak. Small tears started to form but she refused to let them go. To mask how moved she really was she tossed her braid over her shoulder and told him in a haughty tone, “It’s nice to know as an old man you’ve grown to appreciate what I do. I wish my brother were as enlightened as you are. Makes me realize you can teach an old dog a new trick.”
His eyes squinted at her but the grin on his lips told her he knew he’d been bested. “Yeah, well, your brother is a lost cause,” he said. “I’m not.”
