by Barbara Ebel
Annabel bit her lip. “Are you and the employee unharmed?”
“Employee is lucky. He only suffered a local injury to his arm. Sean and I took down the man with the gun. He’ll need more medical care, but nothing serious.”
She flinched. “But you didn’t get hurt, did you? You’re not hiding a bulky bandage under those clothes, are you?”
“I tell you what. Why don’t we eat our carrot cake and you can hunt under my clothes in a little while to find out.”
She grinned. “In their haste, I bet the paramedics forgot all about you.”
“And I need a physical.”
She playfully tapped him on his chest and carried her plate over to the table.
Dustin followed. “And what can I get you to drink?”
“Wine?”
“Really?”
“Don’t fill it to the top and only one. I’ll splurge for a week night. Because I’m with you.”
He put down her wine and sat on the side of a chair watching her sample the cake.
“This is so delicious, it’s crazy. We need to go to this restaurant.”
“I thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. I didn’t know that went for the opposite sex.”
“That’s because I’m not like the average woman my age who wouldn’t dare eat this chunk of calories you put on my plate, especially at bedtime.”
“No, you’re not average. Of that I’m certain.”
CHAPTER 22
Even though Dustin’s blinds were half closed, the moonlight pierced his bedroom. He purposely left the room’s lighting to the moon. The ceiling fan twirled on low, making the air stir and the border threads ripple on a crocheted afghan his mother had made him, which was draped on a chair.
Annabel only had a few seconds to admire the usual tidiness of his room, the queen bed made as if it was in a five-star hotel, and his nightstand neat as a pin. He wrapped his arms around her from the back and brushed her hair away from the right side of her neck. Kissing her there sent warmth all over her body and she closed her eyes for a moment. Still standing, she turned around and placed her hands on his strong back and felt the ripples of his musculature under her fingers. His mouth came down on hers. Their embrace tightened.
Dustin wore a V-neck nylon T-shirt and they both insistently pulled it over his head. She was in love with the shape of his chest, which was well defined with the nomenclature anatomy she studied so well from medical school. He was toned and ripped perfectly, she thought, like an active policeman should be.
Dustin scrambled to help Annabel pull out her tucked-in ruddy top from her cargo pants. When it was freed, they both yanked it off. They kissed again in a frenzy and moved a few steps closer to the bed. Annabel flexed a knee and pulled off one shoe, but Dustin broke from the deep kissing, grabbed off each of his shoes, and tumbled them to the side.
On the way up from leaning over, he pushed his head into her abdomen, put both hands on her, and tackled her to his bed. She laughed while he unsnapped the top of his pants, unzipped his fly, and yanked off his pants in one fell swoop.
Still on the carpet, Dustin could barely control himself as he grew harder by the moment watching her slither out of her own pants and underwear. He shoved them off the edge and planted his knees on the bed, joining her. She wiggled under him to the pillows near the headboard and giggled because he still needed to remove his Jockey underwear.
He grinned at her, ripped them off, and met her face-to-face. The fan cycled with a peaceful hum as Annabel wrapped her legs around him and the two of them joined and thrusted in a frenzy.
-----
“That was crazy,” Annabel said later. “Is your middle name Casanova?” She pulled the creamy white sheet over her hip as she lay on her side facing him.
Dustin slid the hem up over her shoulder. “Dustin Casanova Lowe. That has a ring to it, but no. There is nothing like dangerous police work, like today, to make me totally appreciate the finer things in life.” He traced the side of her face with a long index finger.
“What made you become a cop? It’s not like you’re following in your father’s footsteps.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t only because I like to help people. I yearned to look cool in a uniform. I’m a stickler for precision, so I thought the training would be right up my alley, and I thought I’d enjoy firearms training and the physical skills needed for the job. A combination of things drew me to police work.”
“I bet your mom was worried.”
“She still is. And my dad never knew what I went into because he died while I was in college.”
“What did he die from?”
“A ruptured brain aneurysm. He was alone for the weekend and my mom didn’t find him until Sunday night when she’d gotten home from a trip. If he’d gotten to a hospital, maybe someone like your dad could have saved him.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”
“I often think he caused it himself. He chain smoked like nobody’s business. They told me his arteries thinned because of it. That’s why you becoming a doctor and preaching to people about not smoking is important.”
“No one in my family smokes. I’m fortunate. And I hate the stuff.”
“I’ve been exposed to enough second-hand smoke growing up that I’m lucky my lungs are as black and white and disease free as they are on chest X-ray. I will brainwash my own kids that if they puff once, Dad will arrest them.”
“A tough love kind of dad.”
“I think of parents as being their son or daughter’s guardian angels.”
“Nicely put. So how many kids are you going to have?”
Dustin held his tongue as he almost answered, “As many as we’ll make together.”
“Come on,” she prompted. “You can tell me. I won’t tell some future-wife-to-be of yours that you intend to keep her pregnant all the time.” She put her fingernail in his impish, alluring dimple and circled it around.
Dustin swallowed hard, not liking to hear her words. “At least two, I suppose. How about you?”
“While in training, I can’t think that far out.” She glanced up at the swirling fan blades. “As a matter of fact, this rotation is scaring me to death. I never guessed the possibilities … how pregnancies can end up like time bombs. There’s preeclampsia and post-partum hemorrhages to worry about. There is danger delivering vaginally after a C-section and possible ectopic pregnancies to worry about. There is fetal distress and kids born with rare diseases, malformations, and …” She looked at Dustin, who wore a puzzled expression.
“Oh, sorry. I’m talking shop. Anyway, there is more to worry about than simply the number of kids a person wants.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Do you mind if I jump in your shower, put on my nightgown, and fall off to sleep with you?”
“Make it fast.”
“Thanks for the best carrot cake I’ve ever eaten,” Annabel said when she came back.
“Is that all?”
“It was almost as spectacular as the sex, but not quite.”
He smiled and gave her one more kiss before their eyes closed.
-----
“I’m using your bathroom to throw on some makeup,” Annabel said as the daylight broke into the bedroom.
“Be my guest,” Dustin said as he rolled over to watch her sit up. He pulled her back down. “But only if you can get away from me.” He lightly pinched her arm and then let go. “I’d better get up too. I’m regular early shift today.”
“I’ll be out of your way, but fortunately, my schedule has a little leeway this morning.” She stepped into the bathroom and fumbled through her bag for her clothes. Her items were wrinkle-free and draped her body like a charm. When she made it downstairs, Dustin was in a T-shirt and his underwear pouring them both coffee.
“You look nice,” he said.
“Thank you. I’m going to a funeral parlor this morning. Not good; it was a patient of ours.”
“I guess you meant what you
said last night about the complications of child birth.”
“Exactly. But at least I’m going to see Oliver. Bob is bringing him in his car.”
“I thought he was not with you on OB/GYN.”
“He’s a dog. Of course not.” She kept a straight face, although she was messing with him.
“I mean Bob.”
She broadly smiled and took the mug he extended to her. Dustin shook his head while Annabel looked up at Solar. “The cat’s got your tongue this morning.”
“What’s your problem?” Solar chirped.
“Oh, please don’t start him,” Dustin said. “He’s imitating me more, ever since I brought an Alexa into the kitchen.”
“Alexa, what’s the temperature?” Solar asked.
Alexa ranted out the day’s weather forecast and Annabel’s jaw dropped.
“See. I told you he started something new. I don’t know who’s smarter … Alexa or Solar.”
They both nodded. “Solar,” they chimed.
Annabel poured flavored creamer into the rich coffee and stirred.
“So is your friend Bob back on the same rotation?”
“No. He’s coming with me because two students are better than one and he’s free to do so. Plus, I’ll get to see Oliver.”
Dustin took a deep breath to detach himself from a tinge of anxiety in his gut. “The dog must be handsome. You’ll have to show me a picture of him one of these days.”
Annabel recalled the pictures Bob had sent her. On one hand, she wanted to show him the photo of her and Oliver, but her instinct told her not to show him the other two. For the selfie of her and Bob and Oliver, they had huddled very close together. To Dustin, it might appear like an intimate couple with their dog.
“What?” he asked, noticing her quietness.
She pulled out her phone and carefully scrolled to only the picture of her and Oliver. Careful not to let go, she showed him.
“Wow. He’s a beauty. Congratulations. I can’t wait to meet him.”
She pulled her arm back to her side, slid away her phone, and focused again on her steaming beverage. “Does Solar behave himself with dogs?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Better yet, does Oliver like parrots?”
-----
Annabel drove home to the pick of parking spots on her block. Young professionals had left for work and she parked across the street. She still had time to kill in her apartment. At her desk, she opened her computer and began setting up a Power Point presentation for next week’s grand rounds. She worked an hour and closed down. Bob would be by soon and she needed to update her father about the day before.
She went to her phone, skipped texting either of her parents, and called the home number to leave a message.
“Hey, it’s Annabel,” she talked to the recorder. “Dad, thanks so much for your advice yesterday. I asserted myself with my attending and told him what I needed about me having little to do with the patient’s narcotic order. The rest of the day went much better. No more news for now, except that I’m going to see Oliver and Bob this morning. I don’t go in to the hospital until this afternoon. Have a great day. Love you.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Annabel immediately flung open the door. Bob’s hand was midway in the air, ready to knock. Oliver was beside him.
“Surprise!” Bob said with his usual cheerful expression. He wore black pants and a subtle plaid shirt. He let go of the leash and Oliver bounded in.
“Don’t acknowledge me, Oliver. Make yourself at home.”
Bob closed the door behind him and, inside, Oliver scouted around Annabel’s big room. He circled her furniture and popped his nose into her waste basket. She grabbed him, circled her arms around him, and squeezed. He gently pulled away and sat.
“He’s not into hugs,” Bob said, “but we do have a surprise.”
He stood next to Annabel, who was crouched down. “Ask him to give his paw, or ask for a high five.”
“Oliver, high five.” She stuck out her hand and the dog popped up his paw.
“Wow! Good boy.” She stood and narrowed her eyes. “Did he know that trick or are you Cesar Millan?”
Bob beamed. “I taught him.”
“Sweet.”
“And he had his first vet visit. Like being in a pediatrician’s office, he was inoculated for every malicious threat for disease. He was also started on flea, tick, and heartworm prevention and I had him microchipped.”
“Thanks for all that. He’s worth it, isn’t he?”
“You bet.”
“And what do I owe you?”
Bob slipped a copy of the bill out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. Annabel wrote a check for half and handed it to him. “By the way, you look handsome.”
“The same goes for you; too pretty for a funeral, but you can’t help it.”
He glanced at her Keurig machine on the counter. “Are you getting good use of that?”
“Thanks. I am. I haven’t used it today. Would you like one for the road?”
“No coffee yet? That’s not like you.”
“Well … I just came in from Dustin’s. I had coffee there.” She averted her eyes to the machine and walked over.
“Oh.” Feeling dispirited, his heart squeezed in his chest.
“What flavor would you like?”
“Please don’t bother.”
She put her hand on her hip. “I’ll make you hazelnut.”
Bob nodded.
“I have so much more to tell you about the rotation. You won’t believe it … things are happening in a New York minute. And Dr. Harvey has assigned me with giving next week’s grand rounds.”
Bob’s ears perked up. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You’ll be on medicine next week, but maybe you can come.”
With a fresh brew in Bob’s hand, they took Annabel’s things for the day, as well as Oliver, and left for the funeral service. Bob became pensive, mulling over her sleepover with Dustin. She must like him a lot, he thought, to break away from the demands piled high on her plate.
-----
A somber mood fell over Annabel and Bob as they entered the first door to the left inside the great white arched funeral home. They signed into the official guest record book and put “medical student” after their names.
To not belabor their sadness, it was the only day the family allotted to commemorate their daughter. The room had no space to spare. Individual groups of people clustered in the middle and side aisles and individuals crowded the tables in the front and back of the room glancing through pictures and memories of Mary Chandler that Kathleen and Mike Chandler had on display.
Since the young woman had been cremated, a solid urn rested on a pedestal in the front of the room. Wreaths, flower vases, and sprays of flowers on easels jammed up the space in a circular pattern to reach the display tables in the corners.
At least half the visitors were young people around Mary’s age of eighteen. Most were probably previous classmates, Annabel thought. She waited patiently with Bob to express her condolences again to the parents, who were surrounded by others also waiting to do the same.
Two young women stood behind her facing two men about the same age. “We really don’t know why she died,” one of the girls said. “She was ready to have her baby in about two months and I heard somebody at the hospital killed her. Right through her IV. Ran a deadly drug right into her hand.”
Moans and groans sounded behind Annabel and Bob and the other girl chimed in, “Who woulda thought. I’m not going to any hospital if I can help it. And poor Mary. She didn’t deserve what she got. She was going to raise that baby all by herself. I heard it was that shithead Freddie Hogan that got her pregnant, but Mary never said a word. I don’t think her parents even know him.”
One of the young men spoke up. “I know a girl who went out with that loser; she said he tried to rape her on the date.”
“You’re kidding me,” the first girl said.
“No. And she’s not one to make up stories.”
Annabel stared at Bob with disbelief and shuddered. He heard every word as well and shook his head.
“Speaking of the devil,” the other man said behind them. Annabel glanced back at the group of four. They stood with respect and mournful expressions. The man talking nodded toward the back corner where one young man stood alone tentatively scanning the room. He nervously rubbed his hands together and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Over there,” the man alerted his friends. “That’s Freddie Hogan.”
All three heads turned. Annabel and Bob couldn’t help it either and turned to check him out.
“But why would he dare show up here if he really was the father of Mary’s baby and didn’t want anyone to know?” one of the girls asked.
“Closure,” one of the guys said.
“Or like a criminal returning to the scene of a crime,” the first girl added.
The space opened up a bit to speak to the parents and Annabel tapped her elbow at Bob. They slipped in front of Kathleen and Mike and Annabel introduced Bob.
“We are humbled to come this morning,” Annabel said, “to both celebrate your daughter’s life but also to grieve her early passing.”
Mrs. Chandler first took Annabel’s hand and squeezed, but then pulled her in and gave her a hug.
As they wandered out, Annabel paused in front of Freddie Hogan and gave him a piercing stare. She didn’t know if the story about him was true, but based on his cowardly stance in the back of the room, and what she knew of Mary, she believed it.
CHAPTER 23
“Do you have time if we go across the street to that mini-park and walk Oliver?” Bob asked Annabel outside the funeral home.
“I do now.”
They opened the back of Bob’s car, Annabel fastened Oliver to the leash, and he jumped down. They crossed the street and landed on a circular path with a small field and playground in the middle.