by Barbara Ebel
“I couldn’t rightfully call you into the office since you weren’t due for an appointment. Yet, I do have some questions for you if you don’t mind.” Danny kept a professional tone as Dr. Malone signaled for her to sit at the head of the table.
Paula stifled a sigh. “I have better things to do,” she said and smiled. “But for you …”
“Well, thank you.”
“This could be important for us as well,” Dr. Malone said as she slid a notepad towards the patient.
“First, tell me about your headaches. Are they the same?”
“Kinda. They haven’t gotten any worse.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He wished her skintight knit top wasn’t displaying ski moguls as he cleared his throat. At least she wore a thin open blouse on top or otherwise she’d stop traffic, he thought.
“Ms. Branson, I remember you said you were a health fanatic. I think you said you work out?”
“Sure, hon. Can’t you tell?”
“Dr. Malone, would you mind passing me a piece of paper?” He paused and then jotted down a date and time.
“What are the usual liquids you drink and, when you work out, do you drink something different?”
“Mostly I drink water,” Paula said. “No soda and especially none of that crap that has artificial sweetener in it. My body is a temple.”
“No coffee?”
“I hate that stuff. How do people drink that anyway?! Just like beer. You have to be nuts to make yourself develop a taste for it.”
Danny started taking notes. “I’m sure I have this in my history and physical of you, Ms. Branson. However, just to be clear, are you also insinuating you don’t drink alcohol?”
“Practically speaking.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it means. I basically don’t drink a shot of moonshine a year or anything else for that matter. Like I said, my body’s a temple.” She shifted position and grimaced.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Branson. This is very important; you are important to us.”
Her face lightened up and she put her hand over her heart. “Thank goodness.”
“And your workouts. Do you drink anything special like those energy drinks?”
“Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t drink anything else. I drink it not just for exercising but almost as much as water. If you believe in advertising, then it ‘bridged’ my transition from not working out and having a regular body to a spectacular body that does cardiac and weight training.”
“Do tell me. Is it Blue Bridge?”
“Then you already know about it.”
Danny practically slapped himself on the forehead. “Yes,” he said and shot Dr. Malone a glance. “Where do you purchase it?”
“At my gym. Serious Gyms.”
Chapter 21
After another fifteen minutes, Danny and Dr. Malone had all the information they needed about Paula Branson’s Blue Bridge consumption after she recalled the drink had only shown up about a year ago and her heavy usage started after that.
When they left the conference room and Ms. Branson went ahead of them to fill out the study’s paperwork for the visit, Dr. Malone stopped Danny.
“I can speak for the ophthalmologists when I say ‘thank you’ for recognizing her rare vision and sending her on to each of us.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think we’re both aware that we’re onto something,” she said, then applied the lip balm she’d been twiddling with.
“But I have to figure out the next step,” Danny thought aloud.
“Yes, maybe you’ve found a drink out of science fiction which causes bionic eyesight.”
“Not just eyesight.” He shook her hand and left for the office.
-----
After Cheryl and his staff went home, Danny researched different requirements for reporting to the FDA. He was also on call and had an eerie feeling he’d get called in; two hours later, an MVA rolled into the ER and the doc there paged him. He drove over to the hospital to do an evaluation but, like the trauma service, he decided to watch the patient overnight as it was a clear case of not jumping in too soon with a scalpel and drill.
Not wanting to go home yet in case something else developed, Danny poured coffee, selected a pastry and sat on the leather couch in the doctor’s lounge. Seeing on the weather channel that the rain probability for the next day was 50-percent didn’t make any sense to him. It was one of his quirky pet peeves; either it would rain or not. So, in actuality, the chances were 100% or zero and he changed the channel to an action classic.
Two on-call residents were in the lounge talking at a table and the trauma doc was dictating his notes. The main door opened and, to Danny’s satisfaction, Casey walked in. Working the 3-11 shift, he had brought in the patient he had seen.
“Glad to see you,” Danny said.
Casey grinned and looked straight ahead at the television. “I shoot the bastard. That’s my policy,” he said, mimicking Dirty Harry as he sat down.
Danny laughed, almost spilling his coffee. He picked up the apple turnover.
“Great. You’re going to the gym and eating deep-fried cholesterol.”
“You’re taking my only evening pleasure away.”
Casey shrugged his buffed shoulders. “All right, I admit, you’re showing the slightest improvement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“No chance. So wait until you hear the further developments about Varg Dagmar’s favorite drink.”
Casey lowered the TV’s volume and gave him his full attention.
“I continued to follow a patient after Bruce did a lumbar laminectomy on her and found out circumstantially that she has an unusual blood supply in her occipital lobe. So I sent her to an ophthalmologist where she floored all eye exams in an unnatural, superior way. She’s now in a long-term study with patients who have excellent vision so they can determine common traits, which may benefit the rest of us.”
“We’re not living that long but sounds interesting.”
“Not to mention, she’s a piece of work. She’d be all over you like a tick on Dakota.”
Casey rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, I pried information from her today at one of her study visits and talked with the researcher as well. She’s drinking Blue Bridge like she’s mainlining it.”
“No way. What are you going to do?”
Danny swallowed. “I just researched it. Like I discussed with my colleagues when I had even less information, this is not a CDC issue. I think it’s a get-to-the bottom of this drink issue. Someone needs to evaluate Blue Bridge’s contents and determine if there is a connection to the human brain.”
Casey leaned forward and sipped some of Danny’s coffee.
“I have to contact the FDA. But it’s not like last year’s pandemic and getting a drug approved immediately because lives were in danger. This comes more under their subtle, long-term cases.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ll submit a report anyway since they are open to information sent to them about drugs or food or drinks. But it will probably get bogged-down, buried with a gazillion other reports. That’s what I’ll be dealing with.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
-----
With things quiet at the hospital, Danny finally stumbled into the house after midnight shortly after Casey got home.
“At least I get to sleep in the morning,” Casey said while stacking clean dishes away.
“That would take some getting used to,” Danny said. “However, in another fifteen years, it’s going to be another story.” He emptied his pocket of car keys, business cards, a napkin and a toothpick and put them on the counter, grinning. “Want to take a look downstairs with me to see the progress they’re making from the last few days?”
Casey got up while running his hand over his cr
ew cut. “Let’s go. I know they finished the back entry for you and Sara today. Now they just have to finish the pathway and link it to the patio.”
Danny quietly stepped into the big room downstairs with Casey behind him. “These guys work fast.” The kitchen was being expanded and several hardwood boards were stacked on the floor.
Casey walked around the counter. “Adding cabinets?”
“Just a few.”
Behind the kitchen, Danny walked down the hall and checked the new passageway to the outside. “Nice job. A sound plan coming to fruition.”
“What’s the story with the lakefront property?” Casey asked as they headed back up the stairs.
“The contract for sale will be ready on Friday so I’ll meet Varg after work. Maybe we can close quickly so we can have a late autumn bonfire before winter.”
“Okay, let’s get some sleep.”
“I still have to stop and give Julia a silent kiss.”
“Your daughter was a pistol this morning with Ms. Emily. I don’t know who was minding who. Julia showed her sitter the ‘correct’ way to butter toast.”
Danny chuckled quietly while he made his way to her room.
-----
Rachel applied the thinnest makeup foundation since her accident and simulated making facial gestures in front of the mirror. Amazing, she thought. She touched underneath her right eye where it felt odd to feel the end of one titanium plate but she considered herself lucky. Although she still had residual nerve effects, she could have lost an eye if that area of her face had landed on a rock or tree stump protruding from the ground.
She had a doctor’s appointment next week and would get a referral to a plastic surgeon for her lip. Besides restoring it to its previous fullness, perhaps she could get a little extra but not as much as some of the Hollywood stars who looked like their lips were going to explode. No, she had more taste than that. If a body part looked artificial, then it wasn’t for her.
Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d better hurry. She was meeting Varg at his office. He was being so kind to continue her real estate matters and would have her apartment key when she arrived in Nashville. Tomorrow, she had young men she’d used before lined up and they were going to U-Haul her personal belongings. Then, on Sunday, she wanted to get her apartment squared away; maybe she could get Julia for the day.
She passed the kitchen counter going out the door but stopped short. On top of the mail pile was an envelope from an attorney’s office. Not knowing what it was, she threw it in the bottom of her bag to open later.
Rachel dodged the I-40 trucks and nodded her head to pop music as she drove. She made her way down the last hills of the Cumberland Plateau, passed the airport exits, and snarled in the Nashville traffic. Finally, she parked and entered Varg’s office.
“Anybody here?” she asked in the entry area.
“For you, of course,” Varg said. He appeared from the hallway and took both her hands in his, raising them to his lips but focusing on her all the while.
“Oh my,” he said. “If you get any prettier - when I take you out - I may have to fight off paparazzi that chase beautiful women.”
“If I’m holding onto your arm, I don’t think they’ll bother me.” She squinted her eyes in a flirtatious way.
“Let’s go back to my office,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. Dr. Tilson is coming by before we go to your new apartment and go out to eat. He wasn’t sure when he’d get here.”
She nodded and followed him while eyeing his thick ponytail lying on the nape of his neck.
“Have a seat,” he said. As the broker, he had the biggest office of the four available rooms in the one-story single building.
“Nice place,” she said, looking around. Three boxing trophies sat atop a bookcase and, nearby, was an oil painting of a black panther in a natural setting.
“I’m not in here full-time, as you probably guessed.” He extended his hand across the desk and put down a chain with a key. “The apartment is officially yours; we’ll make sure everything is perfect when we go over there.”
-----
“You look as fresh as a sunflower meadow,” Danny said. “You couldn’t have dealt with high school freshmen today.” He had swung by the house after work to pick up Sara for the real estate signing, then dinner out.
“I dealt with a lot more than freshmen today,” she said, getting into the car. “And you’re just being nice because you want good Friday night sex,” she joked.
Danny laughed as he settled into the driver’s seat. “Well, then, if that’s the case …,” he said, putting his hand on her knee.
“Danny Tilson!” She swatted his hand away. “You can get all pant-like later but not while you’re driving.”
“You can’t fault me for trying. You smell great and that rose dress becomes you.”
She waved her hand in the air. “Let’s get to the realtor’s, get this over with, and go to Downtown Italy.”
Danny pulled onto the street. “Now you’re talking.”
-----
Within twenty minutes, Danny and Sara stepped into Max-Point Realtors.
“I’m coming,” Varg said as he made his way to the front. “Good evening both of you. Come on back. Rachel Hendersen is also here. We’re going to finish up her apartment situation in a little while.” He took Sara’s hand and gave it a warm squeeze as a greeting, then led them back.
Danny leaned into Sara. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she’d be here. You don’t have to meet her if you don’t want,” he whispered.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” she said. “Julia’s only two. There’s a long road ahead of us and she’s the mother.” She egged Danny along.
“You are a remarkable woman. I don’t deserve you.”
“Shh,” she uttered with a pointed finger over her mouth as they turned into the room.
“You all know each other,” Varg said. “Here, sit down.”
“No, actually, Rachel and I have not met.” Sara stood a few feet from her chair. The mixed feelings she felt made her heart speed up. She had heard tidbits from Danny and Casey about her but, until now, Sara hadn’t grasped how stunning she was. Even after such a short time had passed from suffering facial fractures, the woman did have the credentials for being a home-wrecker. Sara swallowed hard and the pregnant pause from both women was palpable.
“You must be Sara,” Rachel finally said, getting up. “I suppose you’ve met my daughter, Julia.”
“Most certainly. She’s lucky to have such a good father.”
Danny has sharp taste in women, Rachel thought, especially ones with a sharp tongue. She turned her body sideways and addressed Danny. “Speaking of Julia … hopefully, I can have her for most of Sunday. I’ll be in my new apartment here.”
“After church would be fine.”
“Church?”
“Yes. Perhaps at twelve noon?”
“Danny, you need to tell me if my daughter is going to church. That’s something I don’t approve of.”
Varg cleared his throat and everyone looked his way. “Danny and Sara, please take these two chairs in front of my desk so we can take care of real estate matters. Rachel, why not step outside?”
Rachel left the room. Finding nowhere to sit in the front area, she waited right outside their door, back against the wall.
Danny and Sara sat down as Varg picked up a packet of papers and handed them to Danny. “I’ll let you read this; it’s only the contract for sale. Signature line is on the last page but you can just initial the other two pages. And let me know if there are any questions. I won’t talk out loud about the finances since we have non-buyers nearby.”
“I appreciate that,” Danny said. The room silenced as he read and rechecked the numbers. It looked to be in good order so he initialed and signed, looked at Sara and smiled.
“Here you go,” he said passing the papers back to Varg who made a copy for Danny.
“Preliminary congrat
ulations are in order because, in the next two days, I’ll have the buyer sign this as well. Since you’re paying a huge down payment, I think closing can occur rather quickly.” He nodded his head and straightened his ponytail.
“I am being a poor host,” Varg added. “May I get any of you something to drink?”
Sara shook her head; she didn’t want to stay any longer than needed.
“Rachel and I will wait until we go to dinner. By the way, Danny, Katarina at Serious Gyms said you bought some Blue Bridge and may become a fan.”
“Oh, yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You are already aware of Marlene Bowen’s results of your psychological testing … how you aced memory and math skills and how above normal your IQ is.”
Rachel’s ears practically bulged as the conversation had turned exceptionally interesting.
“Yes, my meeting you has opened up avenues in my life that I was oblivious to. Since I have these remarkable skills and I read voluminously, I still may try my hand at being another Michener, Tolstoy or Twain.”
“Varg, you could do that. I don’t have a doubt. Or do many other things as well. But here’s the thing. I have other patients who have turned up with remarkable resemblances to you, but in different areas of the brain. As we know, your left temporal lobe is magnificent. These other folks have different skills related to their increased brain circulation and oxygen delivery in other lobes.”
“Really?” Varg asked. “What a coincidence.”
Rachel hung on every word as she tilted her head closer to the door frame.
“Yes,” Danny said. “And I am highly suspicious that the link among all of you is Blue Bridge.”
Varg blinked. “Really?” he said again, his eyes growing wider. He began to smile, his missing tooth more obvious. “Are you sure your little research project is correct? Because that would mean you have a theory that Blue Bridge is like drinking pure magic. It would imply that it is a medical discovery which fulfills something human beings have never been able to do in history … improve the human brain.”
