Chapter 13
At the clinic, Brett sat behind a black, L-shaped desk in his office, which was a basic box of a room with his diplomas hanging on one wall and a Picasso print on the opposite one. He held the receiver of the desk phone to his ear as he waited for Sid Gatlin at the Lafayette Falls Daily to answer his call.
While he waited, he flipped through the stack of papers left on his desk by the clinic administrator and signed various checks for office expenses as well as other business paperwork needing his signature. Multitasking, he thought, as he put the signed papers in a letter basket. He still had a stack of mail to look over, and he needed to do some personal banking as well.
“Doctor Harris?” Sid answered.
“Hey, Sid,” Brett said. He had treated Sid for angina and hypertension. “How’s it going?”
“Going good,” Sid sounded a little anxious. “Doc, is there something wrong?”
“No, I’m not calling about anything medical. This is about the newspaper.”
“Thank God.” Sid inhaled and exhaled.
Brett frowned. “You’re not smoking, are you?”
Sid cleared his throat. “I just lit one up when they told me you were on the phone. Sweet Jesus.”
“Sid, you need to quit.”
“I just have one every now and then, Doc. Not all the time.”
“You need to quit completely.”
“I’m trying,” he promised. “Now what about the paper?”
“I have a friend who would like to do some freelance work for that monthly magazine that comes out in the Friday paper,” Brett answered. “Her name’s Natalie Layton Spencer. I’ve seen some of her photography, and it’s outstanding.”
“Natalie Layton. You’re talking about Senator Layton’s daughter?”
“Yeah,” Brett said. Layton. The name that opened doors in Lafayette Falls.
“I know of her. She’s been overseas for years. Working the Middle East for a British press agency,” Sid said. “And she’s here now? In Lafayette Falls?”
“She’s visiting her grandmother for a few weeks,” Brett answered. “She’s working on a piece about the composer, Mozart, and she wanted to send it to you.”
Sid took a draw off his cigarette. “Mozart? Okay. We could do something with a music theme.” Sid was all in. “I’d love to meet her. What about Monday? I’ll have my managing editor here, too.”
“I’ll give her your number and have her call you.”
“Sounds great. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from her.”
Brett sent Natalie a text containing Sid’s phone number.
He’s eager to meet with you.
She responded with Thank you so much! followed by Snoopy doing the happy dance.
Brett smiled as he put aside his phone. The phrase she had used to describe her late husband came to his mind. The wind beneath my wings. Brett wanted her to think of himself in that way. As the guy who had been there for her and not the guy who had put her down.
His phone lit up with another message from her.
Cathy’s gonna have her own Facebook page. Wait till you see it!
He chuckled. Just what she needs.
I bet she’ll have a thousand likes in no time.
The last time I made a bet with you, I lost.
That was just a figure of speech. Talk to you later.
He held his phone for a moment. Tonight was Friday night. Date night. He wanted to take her out on a real date. Just the two of them. They could drive over to Nashville if she wanted an uptown night. Or they could make it a quiet evening and grill out at his house. He could show her the rest of his cars. She seemed to like his old cars.
He put his phone on the desk as an old insecurity surfaced. High school had been years ago, and he’d changed. Natalie had changed. Yet, at the moment, he still felt like the boy from Trinity Road, and she was out of his league. What if she turned him down?
She didn’t want to have regrets about another guy in her life. She didn’t appear to be interested in a relationship, and that made sense since she intended to go home to London in a few weeks. Her grandmother was the only reason she was spending time with him. He needed to leave well enough alone.
He looked at the pile of mail waiting for him. Instead of reaching for it, he picked up his phone. He didn’t have to make a big deal of it. Just throw something out there, kinda casual. Like “Why don’t we go out tonight?”
“Doctor Harris.” Marge, the office manager, interrupted him, and he put his phone on the desk.
“I’ve signed all the checks and the other stuff.” He pointed to the letter basket.
Marge, who had once been in the Air Force, still walked arrow-straight. She came into the office. “There’s an older lady out front, demanding to see you.”
He frowned slightly. “Tell her I’m off today and give her an appointment for next week.”
“We tried that, and she said no. She says she isn’t sick and that she has something to discuss with you. She said it was a private matter.” Marge glanced at the notepad she carried. “Her name’s Anna Layton. She definitely has an air about her. Sorta like Katharine Hepburn.”
“I know her.” He just had no idea what Anna was doing at his office. “I’ll be happy to talk with her.”
While Marge was gone to get Anna, he raked the stack of mail into a desk drawer and straightened his desk accessories, including his nameplate. Then he yanked one of his white lab coats from his office closet and threw it on over his shirt and pants. Freshly dry-cleaned, the white coat didn’t have a wrinkle in it. The garment was stiff and hot, but professional, of course, and at the moment, that was the deal.
Marge gave him a surprised glance as she appeared in the doorway with Anna, who wore a black, watered-silk tunic with black trousers. A white cashmere cape, black gloves, and a matching cloche hat added sophistication to her look. Since spending time at the Castle House, Brett had learned that Anna was a clotheshorse and loved dressing dramatically.
“Anna,” he greeted her. “Come in. Have a seat.” He offered her the leather chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor Harris.”
Marge gave him a mystified nod and closed the door, which clicked softly like a coffin being sealed. He expelled the breath he was holding as he sat in the chair behind his desk.
“I wish to have a little talk with you. Confidential, of course.”
He glanced up and nodded. “Of course.”
“You have a lovely clinic here,” Anna said, folding her gloved hands over the clutch purse in her lap. “So clean and modern. I’m quite impressed.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s a relatively new building.” He kept the conversation trivial, although he was dying to know what had brought her to his clinic. Asking would be pushing his luck.
“Are you happy working here?”
“Yes,” he answered, not certain what she meant. “I’m happy to be associated with this cardiology group. There are two other doctors in the practice, and we have an excellent partnership. We do well,” he added. “I think the hospital is a great facility, and I hope to work there for many years to come.”
“But you have had a problem with the CEO or administrator, whichever title they use nowadays.”
With unease crawling up his spine like a furry spider, he cleared his throat. “We’ve had our disagreements. Mostly regarding finances and the money allocated for new equipment and that sort of thing.”
“He’s from Ohio,” Anna said as if that explained everything.
Brett nodded in agreement. Anything to humor her.
“You see, I have been out this morning, collecting information about you.”
An imaginary noose dangled before him. “About me?”
“Yes.” She hesitated as if contemplating how to explain. “I decided I had to do something when Natalie came in with that set of Indiana Jones movies and informed me we were going to watch them this weekend. Now I do know she loves that character, but I’ve seen those movies at least three times already and have no desire to watch them this weekend.
“But before I go any further, I do want you to know, Doctor Harris, that I think you’re a most enterprising young man. I have been impressed by the enthusiasm you showed even when doing the most menial tasks around my house. By the way, you did an excellent job on the chandeliers. They haven’t been that clean in ages.”
“Thank you,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
“I like a man who isn’t afraid of work. My husband was like that. A good work ethic is very commendable, and this morning, I’ve learned more about your background, and I think it’s commendable for you to have graduated at the top of your class and to be sitting where you are now. Overall, I look on you favorably.”
With his hands clasped together on the top of the desk, he said, “That means a lot to me, Anna.”
“I’ve decided to let you take care of this issue with my heart.” She smiled graciously.
He kept himself steady as elation soared through him. Welcome, sweet bird of success. He had done it. Placing his hand on his chest, he said, “I am honored.”
“I want to be honest with you. I’m not keen about it, but I don’t know any other way to get rid of you.”
He blinked. “Get rid of me?”
“It’s nothing personal,” she began. “But I was never fooled. My youngest sister and my son have been harping on me for months to see a heart doctor. I don’t know why they can’t mind their own business and stay out of my life. I stay out of theirs. Most of the time.
“Then my sweet Natalie comes home. Finally. My only granddaughter. I had great plans. Then out of the blue and quite coincidentally, she pulls an old friend out of the hat, who just happens to be a heart doctor. Imagine my surprise.
“I knew Harry and Lorraine were behind it all, but I wasn’t certain what you had at stake until this morning when I had breakfast with several members of the Ladies’ Hospital Auxiliary. The Pink Ladies.” She referred to the volunteer group that ran the hospital gift shop and delivered cards and flowers to the patients. “They were a wealth of information. Especially Trudale Meteer, who told me Doctor Collins is retiring. With a little more digging, I found out that due to his retirement, there will be a new chief of cardiology appointment made.”
Anna leaned forward. “That’s what Harry and Sheldon promised you. Correct?”
If he’d had a bottle of scotch handy, he would have downed it.
“Goodness, Doctor Harris, don’t look so petrified. I’ve taken care of everything.” Anna gave him a confident smile. “I called Harry and Lorraine this morning and sang your praises. I told them what a wonderful doctor you are, and they were beside themselves, thinking they had been ingenious. I let them keep their illusions.”
Brett took a moment. “I don’t understand.”
“Doctor Harris, I have an objective. I don’t want Natalie to go back overseas. Neither does her father. I would be happy if she were to stay in Lafayette Falls or even go to Washington, where her father is. I’m afraid if she goes back to Europe, she will not return.
“Our family is far from perfect, and we let Natalie down a long time ago. Natalie was with her mother when she passed away. She sat with her mother’s body until the hospice nurse came in. She didn’t call anyone, and I’ve always wondered if she felt there was no one to call.”
He saw that troubled Anna a great deal.
“Natalie was different after that. I worried that she would become rebellious. Instead, she did what her mother would have wanted her to do. She remained the lovely child she had always been. But beneath the grace and charm, Natalie was drifting away from us.
“The day she left for England, I saw such joy on her face. She said she was going to find Camelot, and I knew she would not be back.”
“She’s back now,” Brett said.
Anna tapped her fingertips together. “Yes, but she won’t stay. Not unless she finds a future here. One as promising as the life she knew overseas. So I’m going to introduce her to her very own Indiana Jones.
“You know how she loves those movies. Like her mother, she loves ancient history. She’s had several of her photographs of ancient ruins published in magazines, and she has been to the cradle of civilization. So, you see, she and Indiana Jones would be a perfect match.”
“I’m not following you.”
“His real name is Doctor Lucas Reynolds. He’s an archaeologist and professor of ancient history. Just like Doctor Jones. I’m certain it will be a match made in heaven.”
Brett frowned. “You’re talking about fixing Natalie up with a real guy?”
“I plan to introduce her to him. I’m thinking of having a small dinner party with an Egyptian theme. A gold sarcophagus centerpiece. It will be very nice, indeed.”
“Natalie agreed to this?”
“I haven’t told her about Doctor Reynolds yet. I want to wait and introduce them at the party. Otherwise, Natalie might balk and I don’t want that.”
Brett remained silent.
“But I know she will be delighted that I’ve decided on you as a doctor. It appears I have made everyone happy today, doesn’t it?”
Brett was none too happy. “So you want to get rid of me because of the archaeologist?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Natalie needs a reason to stay, and love will keep her here. But time is running out. She’s flying back to London on December twenty-eighth, and every day that you and Natalie spend trying to convince me that you’re the best thing to come along since sliced bread is another day wasted. Action was required on my part.”
The desk phone buzzed, and Brett tapped the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Harry Layton from the hospital board is on line one.”
“Thanks.”
Anna gave him a sly smile as he took the call.
“Doc,” Harry said, “I am so proud of you. Great job with Mama. I sent out an email to all the board members, and everyone is in support of you. We’re getting rid of Lockett, too. This morning, he was offered a transfer to a facility in Tampa, where his family lives. He was thrilled about that, and I assured him it was the right move to make.”
Brett’s jaw dropped as he glanced at Anna, who gave her head a nod and began to rummage in her purse.
“That’s good news.” Brett knew he had underestimated the Laytons.
“I figured you’d be happy to hear it, and Doctor Collins said he was ready to hand the reins over to you next month.”
“All right,” Brett managed to say. “That sounds great.”
“Son, I figure you’ve earned it, from what I’ve heard.” Harry chuckled. “If you need anything, just give me a shout.”
Brett set the telephone receiver in the cradle and remained silent as his brain processed the chain of events that was redefining his life. Some of his dreams were coming true, while others were being crushed.
Anna had a small, purse-sized planner in her hand. “Doctor Harris, let’s proceed with scheduling tests or whatever has to be done first.”
* * *
A few hours later, Brett headed to Trinity Road in his BMW. It was his first trip down the road in a long time. Overgrown concrete foundations were all that was left of the roadhouses that once flourished in an area where more than one man had turned up missing. Their gravel parking lots had all but disappeared. There were no beer cans or whiskey bottles littering the roadside ditches.
He parked in front of the old garage where his uncle Mark had worked ten hours a day every day except Sunday. At any given time, there would be six to seven cars and trucks parked around the garage, waiting to be repaired. Uncle Mark’s shop never lacked for business.
Brett walked inside the garage made of cinder blocks. He had spent a lot of time in this shop with Uncle Mark and his customers. By the time he was eleven, he knew the basics of auto mechanics, and he could do an oil change on his own.
He liked helping Uncle Mark, and he had worked hard to please his uncle. One of his biggest fears was that his uncle would regret keeping him. After all, his mother had regretted having him. So he had worked hard to make himself valuable.
Uncle Mark was always happiest when he was busy, and he had acted pleased to have Brett as a helper. They had bonded beneath the hood of a car, and it was those moments when Brett had felt as if he were worth loving.
Brett walked through the house. Two bedrooms. One bath. He stood in an empty bedroom that had been his room. His initials were carved in the pine windowsill.
Uncle Mark kept to himself in the evenings. After he made supper, he would read the newspaper and watch a ball game. He didn’t socialize much, and he never remarried. Brett never knew why because Uncle Mark didn’t talk about himself. He talked about cars and baseball and complained a lot about politics.
Standing in the living room, Brett looked out the picture window. Uncle Mark had passed away seven years ago, and the house had been empty since then. He should list the place with a realtor. After all, he didn’t need it.
The kid who had grown up here now made over a half million a year. His future looked great. He was at the top of his game. Head of the cardiology department, with an office on the top floor and a gold nameplate on the door.
But suddenly there was a price to pay.
Natalie. He didn’t want to give her up. He wanted to watch the Indiana Jones movies with her. He wanted to prowl around in the attic with her and tease her about the backseat of the Road Runner. Although he had no claim to her whatsoever, he wanted her in all the ways a man could want a woman. He wanted to be her friend, her lover, her champion.
He wanted to be everything Aidan Spencer had been to her, and that meant he couldn’t step aside while her grandmother introduced her to another man.
Outside, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Anna had given him her telephone number so he could call her personally with her test results. He hoped she wouldn’t mind a different type of call.
“Doctor Harris,” she said when she answered. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”
“Your lab work results aren’t in yet. It’ll be Monday.” He looked at the red maples in the front yard. Their limbs were almost bare as winter grew close. “I wanted to talk to you about Natalie.”
“Oh?”
“I understand that you don’t want her to go back overseas. Neither do I, and I know she’s uncertain about it herself.”
“Really?”
He kicked a piece of gravel. “Anna, you weren’t the only reason I was coming over to your house. I’m going to admit that I was hoping you’d come around, but I wanted to be with Natalie, and I still do. It was never an act. I realize that time is a factor, so I’m asking for two weeks.”
His words spilled out, “If things aren’t good between us by December, you can introduce her to the other guy. Fair enough?”
“I suppose so,” Anna answered. “To be honest, she seems rather fond of you, and I don’t want to stand in the way of progress, of course.”
Brett smiled with relief. “Thank you, Anna, for everything.”
“No need to get maudlin, Doctor Harris.”
He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later.” He pocketed his phone and glanced up to see a hawk sailing far above the maple trees, probably scouting the fields for dinner. Food was something he needed, too. He hadn’t eaten since morning, so he decided he would go grab a bite to eat.
As he got behind the wheel of his car, his phone started beeping like a heart monitor, which was the ringtone he’d assigned to the emergency department at the hospital. I should have known, he thought as he answered the call. He wouldn’t be getting to eat for a while.
* * *
At the Lafayette Falls Golf Course, Anna tucked her cell phone in her bag and glanced at Clara, who sat beside her in the backseat of the golf cart. A young caddy drove the cart across the greens to the third hole.
Anna wore a Holter monitor clipped to the waist of her slacks. While she was in Doctor Harris’s office, he’d insisted she wear the thing for the next two days. He had stuck electrodes on her chest that were attached to wires coming from a small box, which was recording her heartbeat. She didn’t like it, but you do what you must.
She spoke to Clara about Doctor Harris. “It worked just like I predicted. We’ll have margaritas tonight to celebrate.”
“Anna.” Clara scowled. “You should stay out of their lives.”
“I just gave the doctor a little push in the right direction. There’s nothing that stirs up a male like another male invading his territory.”
“Well, that’s always been true.”
“I don’t think we’ll be watching Indiana Jones this weekend,” Anna said, confident that Natalie and Brett would have other things to do.
“Speaking of Indiana Jones.” Clara turned to Anna as the caddy brought the cart to a halt. “Too bad about Doctor Reynolds.”
“I was certain he’d be the perfect man for Natalie.” Anna had been so disappointed yesterday when Mildred called her with gloomy news, which had required an entirely new strategy on Anna’s part.
“I can’t believe she’d forgotten he was gay.” Anna rolled her eyes. “I swear Mildred has Alzheimer’s. The ginkgo won’t help her. Good heavens, when you are so far gone that you can’t even remember your grandson has a partner, whom you met in September, you need to be in a nursing home.”
She climbed out of the golf cart and smoothed the hem of the blue golf shirt she wore beneath a windbreaker. Neatness was important, even on the golf course. “On the subject of Alzheimer’s, Clara, remember to hit the ball down the fairway toward the hole,” she said as they followed the caddy. “Don’t aim for the lake or the sand traps.”