“No, ma’am.” He shakes his head, leaning on the railing for the stairway that leads up to the porch from the lawn. “I hear your brother’s a doctor.”
I nod once. “Yes. My brother Clint. He’s a general practitioner. He has a small office in town, but he breaks up his time working at the hospital, too.” I pause. “Did you have your own practice as well?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He answers, but I notice that his tone is clipped.
I know I’ve hit a nerve, but I want to see how far I can go before crossing the line. “Did you…have a malpractice case?”
He folds his hands together, dipping his head down. I can tell that this is a painful subject. “No, not exactly. I had insurance for that.”
“I know that Clint has the Cadillac of malpractice insurance. He’s always said that being in a small town, he could be shut down for just about anything.”
“I agree.”
I stay silent for a moment, testing the waters, to see if Grayson will take the opportunity to escape. When he doesn’t, I continue. “If you had malpractice insurance, how come you lost your license?”
“I didn’t exactly lose it.” he says after a beat. He licks his lips. “Some patients stopped coming to see me and a complaint was filed with the medical board.” He clears his throat. “I figured that…one-by-one…word would get around that I made a drunken mistake in the office. Got out of there while I still had some dignity left.” He clears his throat again. “The day that I closed up shop was the day that my brother pulled me by the scruff to get dried out.”
“Sounds like one hell of a brother.”
“Kurt told me he’d do it.” Grayson states. “He saw that I was going downhill and he warned me. He held up his promise.”
I look at my fingers in my lap. “Sometimes we need a little bit of tough love.”
“That why you hired help around here?”
I smile warmly at him. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened. It was like one of those…interventions that you see on television…literally. All my family came over one day, sat on this very porch, and told me that if I didn’t hire help, that they’d take the ranch away from me. Either that or I’d die trying to keep the place up alone.”
Grayson looks up at me. “Well, they weren’t wrong. It’s one hell of a job keeping a place like this up.”
“Well, yes. I didn’t have the guest house or the staff quarters then, and I only had a few horses, but yes, it was quite an undertaking.”
“How come your family didn’t offer to stay and help you?” he asks, resting his boot on the step. I’m half wanting to invite him to sit with me, but I don’t want to interrupt this string of conversation.
“They had. Will was here until he left the nest to go to school. Clint was in medical school. My other siblings came and went, helping when they could. Still do. This place is like a revolving door, and has been, since my parents died.” I decide to change the subject. “Have you ever thought about going back into practice? I mean, especially now that you’re out of El Paso?”
He tips his head to the side and then scratches a spot on the side of his face, like a fly has landed there, but one hasn’t. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.”
“I’m sure after cleaning up and starting afresh, that would be the first thing on my mind.”
“One day…maybe.” He admits.
“If you’ve been out a year, you’ve only got another year before your license expires, Grayson.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I know it.” he taps his toe on the stair. “If my brothers were here right now, they’d be jumping on me.”
“Rightfully so.”
He lifts his head, as though he’s going to look at me, but instead he stares off into the afternoon sun. “Laura, you ever been around a drinker?”
“Can’t say that I have, no.”
“There’s a reputation there.” He explains solemnly. “People look at you different. Especially me. You lose trust. In the four years that I drank, I promised so many times that I’d quit and clean myself up. Did it a couple of times, too, but I always went back. There’s always going to be that uncertainty in my mind. Will I wake up tomorrow and want a drink? I don’t know. This is the longest that I’ve been clean, so I’ll give myself that, but who knows how long that’ll last.”
“I see you keep a bible with you. I saw it on the table.”
This time he looks straight at me, but then he looks down again. “Yeah,”
“Grayson?”
He looks up at me.
“Have faith in yourself. Have faith in God. Didn’t your program teach you that?”
He nods. “A little, yes. But you can have all the bible knowledge in the world, and deep down it’s you who makes it all stop. God’s just there to hold your hand.”
“Then hang on tight, Grayson.”
Chapter 7
Grayson
My hand is in hers while we walk from the car to the theater. It’s dark and the place is crawling with an influx of people from all walks of life. One corner of the street is a woman dressed fancier than my wife, but on the other side is a bum, sitting on his ass, back against the brick wall, holding his hand out for spare change. This place gives me the creeps, but Kelly loves to go to see these Broadway-calibre shows.
Our house isn’t far from here, but thankfully it’s in a safe part of town. We moved here three years ago and chose this location to satisfy us both. On the one hand, it keeps us happy because it’s close to both of our workplaces, and on the other hand, it’s not far from the heart of the city, so Kelly can not only keep her finger on the pulse of the city, but she can also satisfy her need for keeping up somewhat of an elite lifestyle.
Kelly and I are total opposites, but as they say, opposites attract. She’s a reporter for one of El Paso’s top newspapers, and I’m a doctor in a quiet nook in town. This woman, who I grew up with, and who I’ve known since we were in Elementary School together, has seen me through thick and thin. She’s the reason why I went to medical school instead of staying on my father’s ranch. Not that I don’t adore what I do, because as God is my witness, I do. Becoming a doctor has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I just couldn’t find the courage to tell my daddy that I didn’t want to carry on the family business. It was because of Kelly that I did that.
As we walk along the street, the din from cars honking, people shouting, and shoes clanking along the concrete tiles, I hold her hand tighter. My nerves are completely shot in this place, but she drags me out at least once a month. Says it’s good for me to be exposed to this kind of life. Lord knows why. But when we hear a scream, Kelly’s reporter hat immediately goes on. “Babe, ignore it. We’re right at the theater. Let’s just go in where it’s safe.”
“Grayson, what if it’s something really exciting? I have my camera with me, let’s go.” She whispers, as if it’s a secret. Never mind the fact that someone could be hurt or in need of help. This is the part of me that clashes with the part of her that is hungry for a story. Another scream, and a gunshot blast, and Kelly bolts to the bank of stores just up ahead. Forget about calling nine-on-one, forget about running like hell in the opposite direction, away from danger, and to safety. No, my wife is running to the scene.
“Kelly!” I shout out. Half of me wants to catch up to her and grab her arm, dragging her back to the car, so we can get the hell out of here, and the other half knows to just let her go. She was born a reporter, and that part of her instinct will never change. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial nine-one-one to report that a shot was fired. As I approach, I see that a throng of people have collected outside the store. Nobody has run away, carrying a bag full of money or anything, so I’m curious as to what is going on.
As I get closer, after hanging up with the police, I see that it looks more like a domestic dispute. Whoever had the gun has either fled or put the gun away, because all I can see is a cluster of people shout
ing and in each other’s faces. Of course, my wife is off to the side, getting footage of everything. When I hear the sirens approach from a distance, the crowd doesn’t change behavior at all, until the sirens get louder. Somebody yells, “Police!”
The next ten seconds are ingrained in my brain forever. Another gun shot is fired, and then another. The crowd thins, and I shove off to the side, not wanting to leave without Kelly. Screams, cries, shouts fill my ears, as the sound of the gunshot blast still reverberates through my head. When a final gunshot is heard, a blood-curdling scream comes from a woman, and as the crowd moves out of the way, I see Kelly laying on the polished linoleum floor.
Her camera is inches from her hand. I run to her, ignoring the knowledge that the gunman could still be nearby. “Kelly! Jesus Christ, you’re hit! We need a medic!” I yell as loud as my lungs will shout.
There is blood coming from her abdomen, and I shake my head, knowing what that means. Pulling her blouse from her skirt, the blood is staining her clothes faster than I can pull them away. Immediately, I pull my shirt out of my pants and rip it off, ignoring the buttons flying in all directions. Placing it on the wound, I apply pressure as much as I can without cutting her breath off. “Stay with me, baby.” I say, looking deep into her eyes.
She nods, but her breathing is ragged. Her face has lost its color entirely. Blood is pooling beside me. The knees of my pants are soaked in my wife’s blood. Reaching for her camera, her hand is trembling. The blood is pooling around her camera, and it’s like she’s trying to save it, as though her camera’s life is more precious than her own.
Her voice quivers as she utters. “Take this. I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby.” I say, looking her directly in the eye. “You’re going to be fine. Just hang in there. The ambulance is here.” My hands haven’t left her belly, even though they’re both soaked in her blood. My shirt is red, when it was once white. “Stay with me.” I say to her.
But as she takes a cleansing breath, her eyes stop blinking, and her belly stops rising and falling. Her grip around the camera loosens, and her camera falls to her side. “No!” I shout. “No! Kelly, baby, stay with me!” I beg, feeling tears pool inside my eyes. A lump is in my throat as I scream from the top of my lungs. “We need an ambulance!”
I look at her, and her eyes are still open, lending me some hope. But as I look at them, they stare off into space. She’s left me…my Kelly has left me. And as I imagine her hand rising to brush the sides of my face, I awake.
My body is bathed in sweat as I awake in the porch chair out front. It takes me a minute to remember how I got there. Sleep wouldn’t come last night, so I decided to take a walk to the main house. At four o’clock in the morning, the front porch was vacant, so I sat there, taking in the inky blackness of the sky, and the silence, when I must have drifted off. As I awaken, I see that the sun is coming up, and I hear the front door open.
Laura is standing at the door in a white robe. Her hair is dripping wet and curly all down her shoulders. With bare feet and a cup of tea in hand, she says. “Good morning. Did you sleep out here?”
Rubbing my eyes, I answer. “Not exactly. I couldn’t sleep last night. Took a walk. Ended up out here.”
She sits in the chair next to me and sips her tea. Then she looks over at me. “Well, you look like hell, Grayson. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Don’t mind at all. I know it.” I chuckle. “Had myself a nightmare.”
“I get those a lot.” She admits. And I wonder what hers are about.
“Yeah? Are they like a ‘too many crackers and cream cheese before bed’ kind of thing?”
She giggles. It sounds like an owl and gets a little chuckle out of me. “No. Nothing like that at all.” Taking another sip, she swallows. “What about you? What are yours about?”
“Oh, that’s getting a little too heavy for five o’clock in the morning.”
“You want a coffee?” she offers. “I’ve got a pot on for the boys.”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink coffee.”
“Well, Grayson. You’re not giving me a whole lot of wiggle room here.”
“Sorry about that.” I say warmly. “I’ve learned over the years to keep things to myself.”
“I get that.” She touches my hand. “I suppose after going through what you did with your medical practice, that you keep a lot of things under your hat. I don’t disagree. But at the same time, you also have to have someone that you can talk to. Someone you can trust. Someone who won’t share your troubles with anyone else unless it’s to keep you safe.” Laura pauses. “Now, I’m not saying that that has to be me or anything. I know we just met. But, I think it’s important that you have someone like that in your life.”
“I do, Laura. My brother Kurt is that for me.” Which is a half-lie. Kurt wouldn’t sell his soul to the devil in exchange for dirt on me, but he’s also used my confidentiality against me once or twice. I suppose as a sibling, that’s to be expected at one time or another, but what Laura is saying is that you need to have someone who offers that position unconditionally.
“Well, I’m glad.” She says warmly. “Would you like some freshly squeezed orange juice?”
“Well, now, that sounds delicious.” I admit.
“Good. Oranges are in the fridge.” She says, and then I look over at her, and she’s smirking. She bursts into a laugh and it’s contagious.
“Laura, you’re a spitfire in the morning.” I comment, still chuckling.
“Sorry. My brothers and I have used that trick so many times. I just wanted to try it on someone that isn’t family for a change.” She says. “I usually get a punch in the arm for that, but I’ll thank you for showing restraint.”
Bending to her, I punch her lightly on the arm, and as I lean back into the chair, I hear tinkling on the porch floor. My hand goes immediately to my throat, and I realize that it’s my rings. They’ve fallen. “Ah, shoot!” I sputter. Laura sees the rings rolling around on the floor. She places her tea on the floor and kneels to pick one up. The other is headed towards one of the spaces between the slats on the floor. I grab it before it goes down and is lost forever.
Inspecting one, Laura peers down at Kelly’s wedding band. “To Kelly, Love Grayson.” The inscription says around the inside of the band. Handing me the band, she looks at me expectantly.
“No points for originality for me.” I say, taking the ring.
“At least you had the forethought to do that.” She says.
She’s looking at me, waiting for me to look at her. “Divorced?” she asks carefully.
I shake my head no.
Laura looks at me with a sincerity that I haven’t seen from anyone in a long time. “I’m sorry.” She says so softly that I can barely hear her.
I nod once and tuck the rings in my front pocket.
We both take our seats again. She’s the first to talk after a beat. “I didn’t see your chain. Did it fall down your shirt?”
After looking, to no avail, we quickly search the floor. “It must have fallen down the gap.” She says.
“Yeah.”
“At least the rings didn’t.” she points out. “You can always get a new chain.”
“Kelly…bought me that chain.” I say softly. “But I don’t expect you to tear up your porch to find it for me.”
Laura is silent.
“I suppose with this line of work, I shouldn’t be wearing jewelry at all, anyway.”
“I haven’t so much as worn a bauble in many years.” she volunteers. “But taking off your wedding band, that…that takes work. I suppose your way is clever though, kind of like a smoker moving from cigarettes to nicotine gum.”
I smile. “Never really thought of it that way.” I look at her. “I assume you’re speaking from experience.”
She nods once.
“Divorced?” I ask, mirroring her earlier question.
She shakes her head no.
I look at my lap. “I’m sorry, too.”
She pinches her lips into a smile that I take as thanks. “How long?”
“Five years. You?”
“Ten.”
I lift my brows. “Geez. You couldn’t have been married long.”
“We knew each other all our lives. Married at nineteen. Married ten years.”
“We were high school sweethearts. Married at twenty-two, and we were married for thirteen years.”
“So that makes you forty?” she checks.
“Not yet. A couple more months to go.”
“Ah, so we’re the same age.” She smiles. “I just turned thirty-nine.”
“Well, Laura, I have to say.” I place my hand on hers. “I guessed you couldn’t be more than thirty. You could even pass for your late twenties.”
She smirks at me. “Forget it. No raises until your probation is over.”
“I’m serious.” I shake my head. “This line of work tends to age the face, but you…you must have some secret youth serum.”
“It’s the horses.” She says whimsically. “They keep me young.”
“I hear ya there.”
“That and very good sunscreen.” She says, winking at me.
Spewing another laugh, I look at her. “Do I get hazard pay for all this laughter you’ve bequeathed me?”
“What, you don’t like to laugh?”
“Haven’t in a lot of years. Jokes usually irritate me. Especially when one of my brothers makes me the brunt of them.”
“Well, then, that’s the difference. My jokes are usually of the self-deprecating nature.”
“I can see that.” I chuckle.
“And Will is a card. He’s always making me laugh.”
“I see that, too.” I smile. “I’m glad to see that my first boss has a sense of humor.”
“Your last boss didn’t have one?”
“My last boss was myself.” I say, matter-of-factly.
“I understand your pain, Grayson.” She says, touching my hand again. “I am the boss.”
No More Tears Page 6
