by Lucia Sinn
Mason pitched forward, the whites of his eyes bulging. “Rats? Mice? What are you talking about?”
“You mean she didn’t tell you?” Jeff turned to look at Cara, tongue bulging in his cheek like a wad of bubble gum.
Mason gripped his desk in panic. “What’s going on down there? I don’t understand.”
Cara kept her cool on the outside, but inside she was churning. How did Jeff know about the rodents, and why had he brought it up now, except to get her in trouble? She said, “it was just an isolated incident--something that happened with all the new construction. And I did make out a report.” She glanced at the stack of papers to Mason’s right. “If I’m not mistaken, I think I see it at the bottom of that pile.”
Rozgonyi nodded at Cara, seemingly unconcerned about Jeff’s jibe. “Well, at least you’re willing to offer a revised vegetarian menu, that’s a good start.” She looked at Jeff. “Now, why don’t you set up a time to meet with Cara so she can give you all the information you need?”
Jeff glared at Cara. “Sure, I can do that,”
Mason rubbed his hands together. “Well, then its settled.”
“Not quite,” Jeff said. “Does this mean I’m no longer considered Unauthorized Personnel in the kitchen?”
“I’d like to know when you’re coming,” Cara said.
“Why? What difference does it make?” Rozgonyi said. “Jeff’s a student--his hours and demands on his time are unpredictable. I’d like him to feel free to come and go as he pleases.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mason agreed. “Sure, fine.”
Cara’s head throbbed. She’d won a small battle, keeping Jeff out of the office and convincing Dr. Rozgonyi that offering a new, revised vegetarian menu would be better than serving vegetarian meals to all the patients. But if Jeff was free to wander through her department at will, it would lead to trouble.
CHAPTER NINE
A FATEFUL FAVOR
CARA FOUND HER car in the lot with the keys under the mat. She smiled at the idea of the affluent Tony Cabella driving a ten year old Honda through the streets of Lewiston. He probably took the river road to avoid being seen.
He had not moved the seat back or left any trace of himself in the car. But the view from the side window he’d replaced was suddenly very clear—just as her revised impression of the man himself. She hoped she’d seen the last of Tony, now that Angie had a new doctor in Indianapolis.
But it wasn’t over yet. Tony called a week later. “Good news. Angie’s new doctor says they can get Angie’s insulin levels and blood sugar regulated.”
“That’s great, Tony.” Cara didn’t say what she thought--that no physician should make such a promise. But Tony might be misquoting whatever the doctor had said. At any rate, why had he called just to tell her that?
“There’s one more little favor I’d like to ask,” he said.
A spasm of irritation worked its way up her spine. Did he think she was at his beck and call?
“I’m not sure I can help you.” She could hear the tension in her own voice.
He seemed not to notice. “This won’t take long. The new doctor thinks one of Angie’s problems is eating at restaurants.”
“So?”
“Here’s the thing; you’ve met Gail. She’s not much of a cook. And I’m gone a lot. So the kids end up at fast food places like McDonald’s several times a week.”
“That’s not all bad. If Angie’s careful what she orders, there are plenty of things she can eat.”
“I know. After I told the doctor about you, she suggested you take Angie to lunch one of these days to help her with her choices.”
“What did you tell her about me?”
“Just that I have a close friend who’s a dietitian. That you’d been out to the house trying to help my wife with Angie’s menus.”
Cara sighed. What if it got back to administration that she’d refused such a simple request from a heavy contributor? Tony could get nasty if he didn’t get his own way. Anyway, it wasn’t the first time she’d been asked to do a personal favor for a VIP. Last spring, she’d done an ice mold for the chairman of the board’s party for his junior prom queen daughter. Another time, she’d been asked to take homemade chicken soup to a rich widow. It was expected that she contribute her meager talents to the common good. But if she did take Angie to lunch, it would be without her father.
“Fine, just arrange a day, and let me know when to pick her up.”
“Oh, you needn’t go to that trouble. We can meet at the McDonald’s near the courthouse.”
Cara’s antenna went up. Was Tony trying to find an excuse to see her again? She shivered at the thought of being anywhere near him. “No, this will work better if it’s one on one. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it the right way.”
“All right then, how about Saturday?”
Cara glanced at the calendar. Another weekend messed up. But when she thought about Angie’s gamin face with her chipmunk cheeks and the funny little gap in her teeth, her heart melted. The poor child had lost her mom and was trying to get used to a new stepbrother. “Sure,” she said. “Tell Angie I’ll pick her up around noon.”
“Good, just toot the horn--don’t bother taking the time to come in. My baby will be waiting.”
Cara had dinner with John on Friday night and stayed over. It was the time of year she loved best at the farm: no need for heat or air conditioning, the windows open to fresh country air and the night sounds of owls and insects.
In the morning, they had rich, dark coffee before going for a ride. Afterwards, they sat on the deck with thick slabs of fresh baked bread and apple butter. When John leaned back in his chair and lifted his face to the sun, she decided the timing was just right to inform him of her plans for lunch. At that moment, the phone rang in the kitchen, and his mellow mood evaporated as he stepped inside to answer it. He talked for a few minutes and returned with worry lines on his forehead.
“Sorry,” he said. “One of my patient’s has just been admitted to the ER. I have to go in.”
“Of course you do.” Cara busied herself with clearing the table and taking the dishes inside.
“See you in awhile.” John dashed out the door.
Cara exhaled a long sigh of relief as she watched John leave. Now she could make up a story that Tony had called her cell phone just after John left. She’d say that since John was busy with his patient in the ER, she’d decided to go ahead and do the lunch thing.
She wished she could have been more upfront with John, but he didn’t understand the nature of competitive corporate politics. As a doctor, secure in his career, he didn’t know how it felt to navigate through shark infested waters. Cara needed all the support she could get right now to deal with Dr. Rozgonyi and Jim Mason.
There was something else, too. She didn’t like feeling she had to report to John or any man.
Cara pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeved white cotton shirt, and fastened her hair into a pony tail with a plain rubber band, not taking the time to apply lipstick. If she wore her reading glasses, she’d be drab as a squirrel on a tree, and no one would give her a second look. Rather than texting John, she left him a note that she’d gone on an errand, and would be back soon. It would be easier explaining about the lunch when it was over and done with.
Cara hesitated about tooting her horn when she stopped in front of Tony’s house. But it would probably be quicker this way, and she didn’t have much to say to Gail. She waited a few minutes, looking at her watch and feeling exasperated at being kept waiting. Then the front door burst open and out walked Doug, trailed by Angie.
Without so much as a hello, Doug yanked open her car door and jumped in to ride shotgun while Angie hopped in the back with tennis shoes in her hands.
“I didn’t realize you were coming along today,” Cara said to Doug.
Doug turned to face her with a crooked grin on his narrow face. His pale blonde hair was tousled, and he wore a wrinkled red co
tton shirt. Angie had brushed her hair, but hadn’t tied her shoes or buttoned the navy blue cotton sweater she wore over a yellow sundress.
“Mom’s playing tennis,” Doug said. “She didn’t think you’d mind if I came along.”
“Actually, I do mind,” Cara said. “I’m going to be talking to Angie about her diet and we need to be alone.”
“Oh, please,” he said. “I’m starving, and there’s nothing I like to eat in the frig. I won’t even sit with you. I promise.”
Cara remembered the unappealing contents of the Cabella’s refrigerator that she’d seen last week. She couldn’t blame the kid for wanting a hamburger. “Okay,” she said, “But only if you let me do the ordering.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means this is a diet instruction. You and Angie are going to order healthy foods. No fries. No soft drinks.”
“Why? I always get a combo.”
“Not today you’re not.”
McDonald’s at noon on Saturday was a teeming mass of humanity queued up for a fast food fix. The smell of hot grease and the whirr of the milkshake machine added to the general air of gustatory anticipation.
Doug sulked as they stood in line. Angie shyly took Cara’s hand. “It’s okay with me,” she said. “I’ll eat whatever you say.”
“First thing, you’re both having a carton of milk.” Cara said. “You can have a plain hamburger, or one with cheese, and we’ll get a salad for each of you. Now, let’s check and see what the fresh fruit of the day is.”
“Yuck, I wish I’d stayed home.”
I wish you had too. Cara looked away from Doug’s eyes, thinking they were the color of creek pebbles and just as cold.
Cara ordered and paid the cashier. Fifteen fifty wasn’t much, but it annoyed her that she had to take Tony’s kids to lunch.
Angie squeezed her hand. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Cara turned to Doug. “Listen for our order. If it comes while we’re gone, pick it up and find a table.”
Doug nodded without looking at her. She and Angie headed for the cramped ladies room that smelled of disinfectant and damp toilet paper. Angie took an unusually long time--so long that Cara worried she might have gotten sick. But her face appeared serene when she finally emerged from the toilet stall with a smile. Cara helped her with the soap dispenser, feeling annoyed by the lack of paper towels. Everyone knew those hand drying machines did nothing but dispense bacteria.
They walked the long hall back to the seating area and looked around. Doug wasn’t there. She looked up at the serving area filled with people placing orders. No Doug.
“Where is he?” Angie said. “I’m hungry.”
“Maybe he picked up our order and sat it down somewhere before using the bathroom.” Cara said. But the unoccupied tables were empty. Oh Lord, what was this little stinker pulling on her? She asked the cashiers if they remembered whether a young blond boy—rather tall for twelve—had picked up an order. They looked at the crowd, then back at her as if she had just landed from outer space.
Angie looked longingly at the people calmly eating their meals. Cara knew her blood sugar was low now, and she was craving food. “I’m sure he’ll show up any second,” she said. “You just sit here while I look for him.”
Cara asked a young man wearing an ISU sweatshirt to check the men’s room but he reported there was no young boy inside. She went outside and walked around the building with no success.
“Tell you what,” she said, not wanting to upset Angie. “How about if I order again for you? Then I’ll walk outside again and check the parked cars. Maybe he saw a friend or something.”
“He doesn’t have any friends.”
“How can you say that. All boys have friends.” Even the evil ones.
“Cause he just moved here after school was out in June. Before that, he lived in Texas with his dad. Honest, he doesn’t have any friends.”
“All right, then. I’ll call Gail.”
“Gail’s playing tennis. She won’t hear her phone.”
“What about your dad?”
“I don’t know. I think he was still asleep when we left.”
Cara felt the first prickles of alarm under her skin. She went back to the counter and waited to order again, furiously punching in the phone number she’d gotten from Angie on her cell phone. Two policemen stood nearby checking out the overhead menu.
After four rings, Tony answered with a sleepy “hullo.”
“Tony, this is Cara. Have you heard from Doug?”
“Cara?” She could almost see him shaking his head and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Where are you? What do you want with Doug?”
“Remember, you asked me to take Angie for lunch. When I came by to get her, Doug jumped in the car and announced he was going with us.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. We’re at McDonald’s, and the boy has disappeared.”
“Have you checked the men’s room?”
“I’ve checked everywhere. He’s been gone for ten minutes and I have no idea what to do next.” She turned her back and lowered her voice. “A couple of policemen are standing next to me. Do you think I should ask them to help?”
“No, don’t do that. He’s doing this on purpose.” Tony said. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Easy for you to say. Look, I need you or Gail to get over here right away.”
“All right. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Meanwhile, try to stay calm. And don’t get the police involved.”
Cara picked up her order and watched silently as Angie wolfed down her cheeseburger. She was supposed to be talking about healthy choices at fast food restaurants, but it was all she could do to keep her cool. Tony finally showed up with a worried looking Gail at his side, still wearing her white tennis dress.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Gail said. “I could just brain that kid. Where do you suppose he went?” Her pretty blue eyes grazed the room as she patted her hair and shifted impatiently.
Tony took Cara outside. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “Here you were, doing me a favor, and now I’ve gotten you in another mess. The best thing for you to do now is leave.”
Cara motioned toward the two policeman getting refills on their drinks. “But what if something terrible has happened? I think we should talk to those guys right now.”
Tony shook his head. “He’s run off like this before. He’s just trying to get attention. Kids don’t get kidnapped when they’re standing in line at McDonald’s. No, we’ve taken enough of your time this morning. You go on.”
“All right, but let me give you my cell number. Call me the second he shows up.”
Cara didn’t really want to leave, but she sensed Tony wanted her out of the way. His precious reputation, she supposed. Didn’t want anyone seeing him in McDonald’s with his glitzy wife and dowdy old girlfriend.
Still, she was relieved to be out of there. She’d been gone over almost an hour and a half. John might be home by now, and wondering where she was. She had no choice; she’d have to tell him the truth. But it turned out he already knew about Doug’s disappearance.
And he wasn’t happy.
CHAPTER TEN
JOHN
JOHN’S PATIENT WAS unconscious, possibly suffering from a stroke. Fortunately, Cara understood why he had to go into the emergency room this morning.
It had been different with his ex-wife, Carole, a black haired beauty with a lovely clear singing voice and the grace of a ballerina. She had been a theatre major at Indiana University when they met, and yet she’d willingly followed him to med school in Indianapolis, and given up all her dreams of stardom.
When they’d moved back to the farm and he opened his practice in Lewiston, they had decided they were ready to start a family. Then Carole miscarried—not once, but twice. It was a tough time in their marriage, and when she decided to audition at Community Theatre and landed the role of Marion, the L
ibrarian in the Music Man, it seemed a perfect antidote to her grief.
Rehearsals went on for months. Now it was John’s turn to spend long evenings home alone. But it all seemed worth it to see Carole happy and excited, especially when she received rave reviews in the local media.
He’d been hurt when Carole didn’t invite him to the cast party, but he tried to understand that a stodgy doctor wouldn’t fit in with such lively, creative, people. She finally came home at 4 a.m., cold sober, and announced she was leaving for California the next day with her talented male co-star.
John would never forget the ache in his heart as he sat on the bed they shared and watched her pack.
“This is crazy,” he said. “Do you have any idea of the competition you’ll be facing? And what will you do for money?”
Carole stopped what she was doing, walked over to the bed and stood before him, her small breasts with their rose colored nipples just inches from his eyes. She smelled of perfume and pancake makeup. “You owe me,” she said, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. “I worked at stupid, boring jobs for years just so you could get through med school. I thought we’d have plenty of money and a nice home, like most doctors. I never dreamed your solo practice would pay so little, and we’d be stuck on this farm.”
John couldn’t argue with that. Just as his father hadn’t argued with his mother when she walked out on John’s fifteenth birthday and never came back.
John vowed he would never allow himself to love anyone again after Carole left. His involvement with his nurse, Janice, had been a rebound thing, easily broken off when he discovered her forging prescriptions in his name. He had let her off easy and hadn’t pressed charges, thinking she should have a chance to start over someplace else. Instead, Janice stayed in town and he saw her every time he made rounds at the hospital. And last Wednesday, when he’d stopped at the nurses’ station in the Intensive Care Unit, she had come up from behind and whispered in his ear, her breath a warm puff against his neck.
“Has Cara got a new boyfriend?”
