My fingers moved slowly over the painting as I thought of that artist sweeping his brush on the canvas. It was sad that his story hadn’t ended happily. Losing a loved one was always a tough blow. I knew that feeling because it was the way I had felt when my mother died when I was still in high school. That was on the back of having my father snatched away by a scheming mistress who wanted to take over the things he owned. I had felt like my world had shattered, that nothing else mattered from that moment on. I had been so devastated that for days I was unable to cry, I could only stare bleakly at her picture, wondering if it was all a sick joke and that she would just appear and tell everyone she wasn’t really dead.
I drew away from the painting and returned to my seat in front of the TV. Thinking about mom now was a sure way to make my evening a really depressing one. I had still not gotten over her properly, despite how long it had been. The only solace was that she had died happy, at least that’s what my father told me and my siblings. I suppose I found it easier to follow the military path because Mom was no longer alive to worry so much about losing me to the bullets of terrorists and the bombs of insurgents.
The bike race was over now and a dude who seemed to resemble Joe was pumping his fist in the air. Apparently, he was the winner. His team members had gathered around him to celebrate his victory. I hoped the bikers who had crashed weren’t concussed. That crash had looked really serious.
Now that the race was over, I was left to ponder on what to do next. I didn’t really feel like going out today. The idea of driving or taking a taxi down to Corbin Street or somewhere else around the town didn’t appeal to me right now. It would make no sense to walk around the art galleries when I had something bothering me. I would just stay in and watch TV.
As I made that decision, I began to hear some sounds from the neighboring house. It was a mixture of loud music and something else that I was yet to determine. Was Jason beating his wife? Jason was the guy who lived in the next cottage who had come to the hospital today.
The sound beneath the strains of music did not stop. It sounded like a cry for help. I reduced the volume of my TV so I could hear better what was going on. When I still couldn’t hear as clearly as I wanted to, I got off the couch and hurried into the bedroom to listen carefully. At that point, I realized that Jason was not beating his wife. They were having loud sex in the room that faced my own cottage, and the wife was shouting out in pleasure.
I felt a little bit embarrassed to have heard my neighbor like this. He had come to the hospital today to complain about his failing eyesight, and I had helped him schedule a visit with the nearest ophthalmologist. Now, he was back home and back to business, most likely with the petite lady I had seen him with earlier. I hoped they would keep their loud sex to daytime only and not disturb my peace at night.
Now, that I was sure no physical violence was taking place next door, I returned to the living room. The TV was showing the highlights of a basketball game. I didn’t bother to turn up the volume. I just sat and watched the images on the screen. I could not say I was really interested in what was being shown.
Francine.
Again, my mind was drawn to that pretty woman. I couldn’t push her out of my head. Maybe I should make one more attempt to rebuild the bridge she had demolished for no tangible reason. Yeah, I had to do that, I had to try. I would reach out again, but this would be the last time. If she ignored my text this time, then things would be over between us, before they even had a chance to get started.
Chapter 6: Dr. Walters
“I have to go now,” Joe said as he got to his feet. “Work is waiting.”
I nodded my head, indicating that I understood that he had to get back to work. A smile danced on his face as he turned and walked out of my office. Now, I was left alone with my thoughts. The musings that I have been seeking to suppress were now threatening to come to fore. I pressed my hand against my forehead as I ran my eyes over the pad on my table. For a moment, I felt like I could not understand a word on the pad. Only once I blinked did I begin to see clearly.
I could not deny that the past few days I had spent getting close to Joe had been fun. He was a really funny guy and always knew what to say to crack me up. He was also very intelligent and an easy person to be with. Since that day at the stadium, our friendship had really developed.
All of these qualities made Joe desirable, but I had realized that I didn’t want him the way I wanted Gilbert Finch. Gilbert was not as built as Joe or as funny, he kept to himself more and did not smile enough, but my heart longed for him the way he was. I had briefly considered how a relationship with Joe would be, and it didn’t fit what I wanted. All he would ever be was a distraction from Gilbert. That was the plan, to use Joe to take my mind off Gilbert.
I let out a sigh as I thought about the last time I had wanted a guy and wasn’t able to get him. To be frank, I could not remember any such occasion. Certainly not in college, when I had the cute guys drooling over my pretty body and my considerable academic exploits. I had developed from being an unpopular nerd in high school to a pretty, graceful girl who had a social life but was still able to ace her papers while I was in the military school of medicine.
I would have loved to have Karen here, to hear her talk about her brother who was a soccer star in this town, or her sister who was studying to become a nurse like Karen. It would have been great to hear her speak about anything, I just wanted to be distracted from my thoughts about Gilbert. I could not understand why a man would be so rigid in the affairs of love.
It would have been a different ball game if I didn’t know about the failed relationship that had hurt him so much. Maybe I would have got closer to him and even raised the idea of starting a relationship with him, but I knew that he was still hurt and was yet to heal. Doing anything direct was certainly going to scare him off.
“Okay, it’s time to go home,” I muttered. The last of my patients for the day had already been attended to. Only a serious case would bring me back here today.
I took my bag from the top of my desk and walked out of the office, taking a moment to lock it. As I began to walk towards the waiting area, my eyes drifted to the door of Gilbert’s office. He wasn’t in there, of course. He would probably be in his little cottage, watching TV, or in one of the galleries around the center of the town. I knew how much he liked to check out paintings in galleries and mix with the tourists in the museums around that part of the town. He found Mortown a lovely place, something I was only just beginning to see and appreciate. I had struggled to fit into this town, although I had been raised in a small town like this one. He had gelled with the town and the people who lived here as if he had been here all his life.
A smile escaped my lips as I thought of those mountains that he loved to stare at from his office window. I had once asked him if looking at the white peaks brought back some memories, but he had said no.
“I just love looking at them,” he had said. “I wonder what it feels to be there.”
So much for trying not to think about Gilbert, I thought, and I moved on towards the waiting room. Karen and Dr. Faye were returning from a ward as I said goodbye to the nurses who were in the waiting area.
“Hey, doc, are you going home already?” Karen asked.
I shrugged. “Yeah but you can call me if something comes up.”
I waved to Dr. Faye who was looking tired already and I stepped out of the front door. I was could imagine how much stress he went through as a locum doctor. He was working with several other hospitals, and I heard there was a hospital he was running about three towns away from Mortown. As stressful as it was to move around attending to people who needed his specialist expertise, I knew that it was also financially rewarding.
I was walking briskly towards my car when my phone buzzed in my bag. I wondered who it was. It certainly wasn’t someone at the hospital as I was still around. I set my bag on the hood of my car and undid the zipper, retrieving the phone and quickly checking w
ho had messaged me. I saw that it was a message from Gilbert.
Meet me at the bar on Corbin Street, 20:30. I want to talk. See you there.
I read the message over and over as if there was some deeper, complex meaning in these words that I was yet to grasp. Gilbert wanted to see me? But I had thought he didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt as I read his text. He wanted us to meet at Corbin Street and talk. It sounded good. I wouldn’t ignore this one like I had done the previous texts he sent. I somehow knew that if I didn’t go to see Gilbert, I might lose his friendship completely. Maybe I could find a way to tell him that just being friends wasn’t really what I wanted.
“Okay, just get in the car first,” I told myself. I dropped the phone back into the bag and got in the car.
I was not sure how to feel about this meeting with Gilbert. I had thought he didn’t care about the things I did, but now I was beginning to wonder if he had been hurt by the way I had withdrawn from him. I had just blocked him out without giving him a reason.
I sighed as I turned the ignition. We were going to talk things out when we met. I would try to explain the reasons behind my actions and hopefully he would understand things from my point of view. There was a sense of uncertainty about this meeting. It could swing in the way of getting us back on good terms or it could make things worse. I hoped it would be the former, but it was kind of contradictory to what I really wanted. I wanted Gilbert Finch to be more than a friend.
“Damn it, just get there first,” I said, and I began to drive off the hospital premises.
I felt a weight on my chest as I stepped out of my car, right in front of the meeting point that Gilbert had chosen. I had gone home straight from the hospital, showered and changed into something casual. Then I waited until twenty past eight before I hit the road. Now, I was here and felt like I was choking from the suspense of what was to come.
I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed Gilbert’s number. “I’m there already. Where are you?”
“Come inside,” he said. “I’ll call you over when you get in.”
“Okay,” I muttered and ended the call.
I walked towards the bar. It was a big building with a glass front door. Knox’s Place was inscribed in silver above the door. It was getting windy outside and I was glad that I was going to be seated inside in a matter of seconds. I got inside and began to look around for Gilbert.
“Over here,” someone called to my left.
I turned in that direction and saw a big bald guy waving at me. No, this was not the man I was looking for, he’s waving at someone else. Where was Gilbert?
My heart fluttered a bit as I felt a touch on my upper arm. I knew without turning that it was Gilbert. I had smelled him, and I somehow knew that the touch was his.
“Hello,” Gilbert said, smiling warmly.
It was slightly amusing to see him smile. It wasn’t something he did often. “Hi.”
“I’ve got us seats over there,” he said, indicating a part of the bar with a slight move of his head.
His hand dropped from my arm and held my hand as we walked towards our seats. We sat and stared at each other over the drinks he had ordered. I had nothing to complain about; he had gotten my favorite drink.
“It seems to me that you have been avoiding me,” Gilbert said. “I would like to know if I have done anything wrong.”
This was the moment of truth. Gilbert had gone straight to the point and it was now up to me to explain what had gone wrong. I lifted my glass to my lips to buy myself a little more thinking time, I needed to construct my words in a way that wouldn’t bruise him. I could see that he had not touched his drink yet; he was only staring at me with those soulful brown eyes. Good lord, I have missed this man.
“I needed a little time to sort out my feelings,” I said carefully. “We were getting really close and I just wanted to think deeply about where it was headed.”
“Are you scared of falling in love with me or something?” Gilbert said, his face expanding into a rare wide smile.
You should smile more, doctor.
”Well, I wasn’t sure what was happening. I just had to take a step back and evaluate the situation,” I said truthfully.
“I understand,” Gilbert said before lifting the glass of drink to his mouth for the first time. “So, what is the result of your evaluation? Or are you still evaluating?”
I looked into his eyes and, once again, I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or if he really cared about what my decision was about him. He had to care, if not we wouldn’t be seated in this bar, drinking together. I still found his unyielding expression challenging to deal with.
“You really want to know?”
“Well, yes, of course. Why do you think we are here? I want to know what happened to my friend, why she stopped talking to me. I have missed us, Francine. Haven’t you?”
I sighed as I continued to look at him. “I do miss us. You are a special person to me, Gilbert. It’s just that … ”
“Nothing matters beyond that, I believe,” he cut in. “You are special to me; I am special to you. Why on earth should we stop talking to each other?”
I saw a flash of pain on his face as he gritted his teeth. Maybe my actions had hit him harder than I had expected. “You are right. I took things a little to the extreme.”
Gilbert took a swig of his drink before he replied. “So, are we back on talking terms?”
“Yes, we are,” I said. I did not think this was the right time to talk about me wanting more than that. I had truly missed him, and I wanted his friendship back. We would sort everything else out with time.
Gilbert began to grin as soon as I said that. He reached across the table to grab my hand, giving it a little squeeze. His eyes did not leave my face the whole time. It looked like he had gotten a new appreciation of me over the time that we had spent apart.
“What is it with that fellow, Joe?” Gilbert said, leaning forward. My hand was still in his.
“Joe,” I drawled, intentionally delaying my response while I observed his face. “Joe is someone I have grown close to over the past few days and I like him.”
“More than me?”
He sounded like a kid who was trying to convince his crush to ignore other boys. I had to chuckle at the expression that came over his face.
“No, not at all,” I said. “If you think I am romantically involved with Joe, then you are wrong. There is nothing there.”
“I’m relieved,” he said.
He withdrew his hand and took a sip, but his eyes remained on me. I could see him stealing a glance at my chest.
“There’s something I want you to see,” Gilbert said when we had finished our drinks. He stood up and gently pulled me up. I followed him towards the front door of the bar. I saw the big man I had seen earlier who seemed to have had too much to drink. It looked like his eyes were rolling in their sockets.
I stepped out of Knox’s Place with my hand locked in Gilbert’s. There was a moment of slight awkwardness when we both looked at each other at the same time.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
“There is a really nice art gallery down there,” he told me. “I was there recently, and there’s paintings by one artist that I particularly want you to see, among other things.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see any art, but I knew how much this meant to Gilbert. He loved everything to do with art, it was a big part of his life. Gilbert had said that he wanted us to go to the gallery, but he was not moving in any direction. He was leaning towards me in a manner that could only mean one thing. My peripheral vision saw that there were very few people around and it was dark, nobody could see us well here.
The wind had become still, and the whole world seemed to be slowing down around us. Everything seemed perfect for what Gilbert wanted, for what I had been thinking of since the early days of our meeting. I had always wondered how Gilbert’s lips would feel against mine. Now I was finally going to
get a chance to explore those waters. I leaned upwards to meet Gilbert’s lips with mine. This was going to be a memorable moment. I shivered as Gilbert dropped his hand to the small of my back and pulled me closer. Our lips meshed in a soft tangle, and I felt a thrill run down my spine as we slowly began to explore each other’s mouths.
I knew that the kiss was short because we were outside, although it was dark and nobody was going to think anything of a couple kissing outside a bar. But somehow it felt like the kiss spanned hours, as his lips moved sensually against mine and my tongue rolled in tandem with his. It felt magical, like the stuff of dreams. I wanted the kiss to continue, but I knew it had to end. I heaved a sigh when Gilbert broke the kiss, quickly looking left and right to see if anybody was watching. From what I could see, nobody was.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Gilbert said quietly, keeping his hand on my lower back.
We headed towards the cluster of lights ahead. I was still thinking about the kiss and I knew that I was going to keep thinking about it for some time.
Chapter 7: Dr. Finch
The first thing I did when I got home was strike the wall with my fist. The pain was numbing, I wasn’t sure I had felt such a burst of pain in a very long time, certainly not since the days of our training to work in military hospitals. Punching the wall was not something I did often, but I felt I deserved some sort of punishment for not building on the beautiful moment I had shared with Francine. That kiss had been awesome, even more so because I hadn’t planned it. It had just happened naturally. I had wanted it and could see that she wanted it too.
“Oh, damn it! You’ve lost the girl,” I growled.
I was far from happy with myself. I had hoped I had a good chance of winning Francine’s heart through the evening and maybe even convince her to come home with me, but I had hesitated when it was time for us to go our separate ways. She had hugged me tightly before she left, and I thought she had whispered see you soon, before winking at me and walking towards her car.
Dr. Finch (Healing Hands Book 4): A Steamy Workplace Romance Page 5
