Bobbi and Soul

by J. B. Marsden

  Erin quietly said, “I’m listening.”

  Bobbi huffed. “When I got home to change for work this morning, a small gift was waiting for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My front door had been beaten. Marks and dents all over it.”

  Erin’s pulse raced. “Bobbi. Who do you think it was? Did you call the sheriff?”

  “No. I had to rush to get to the clinic. I’ll call them this evening.”

  “Is it Stephanie?” Erin named her nemesis.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, honey. I don’t know who it is. I’m sure the sheriff’s staff will see if the neighbors saw or heard anything.”

  “You sound tired, sweetie.” Erin weighed her next statement. “Listen, you know I’ve taken vacation this week. Can I come over and fix dinner? I don’t want you to be alone right now…Well, and I want to be there. I want to be near you.”

  “Geez, you don’t have to do that. It’s your time off. Do something for yourself. You don’t want to be involved in my weird junk this week.”

  Erin heard the vulnerability under the bravado.

  “Not only that, I thought you were going to Chicago to be with family and friends?”

  “I am, but not until Thursday. I’m staying in Chicago this weekend, since I’m not serving at church on low Sunday.”

  “Low Sunday?”

  “You know, the Sunday after Easter when no one comes to church.”

  “Oh. Got it. Sometimes I need a dictionary with all the church terms you use.” Bobbi’s voice lifted a little from the tired rasp.

  Erin let out a low chuckle. “Okay, so I’m coming over tonight. I’m packing an overnight bag. I’m cooking you some dinner. So…there.”

  “Okay, lady priest. Actually, I’ll be very happy to see you. But remember what I said. Doctor’s orders. Get some relaxation time.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Erin said, laughing. “See you later.”

  ****

  Erin shivered when she saw the door to Bobbi’s condo from her car. It looked as if it had been rammed with something large and sharp. Dents and scrapes covered the gray metal. One hole, about four inches in diameter, marred the right side, next to the knob, as if someone had tried to gain entrance.

  Bobbi pulled up just then and Erin exited her car with a grocery bag. “Do you have any spices at all?” She held up the bag to indicate the food that needed some ingredients.

  Bobbi hugged her closely. “Hi to you, too. And yes, smart aleck, I have spices. I have herbs. I have sugar and flour and milk and beer and…”

  Erin stuck her tongue out.

  “What’s that for?”

  “For being cheeky.” Erin took Bobbi’s hand to walk to the door.

  Bobbi took the grocery bag. “What’s for dinner, Elf?”

  “We’re not back to the elf-calling are we? And it’s lamb stew using yesterday’s leftovers. But I need some bouillon. Do you have that?”

  “Yes.” Bobbi opened the door. “I need to get you a key.”

  “Oh?” Erin raised her brows.

  Bobbi shrugged. “Let’s get this party going.” She stepped into the room, put down the bag, then grabbed Erin around the waist and kissed her deeply.

  Erin felt her pulse rise as she relaxed her body into Bobbi’s arms. “You’re such a good kisser. I’m so lucky to have a girlfriend like you.” Erin brushed her hand over Bobbi’s jaw. “Not bad to look at. Smart. Compassionate. But a bit of a smart aleck.”

  “Moi?” Bobbi feigned shock. She reached to shut the door.

  Erin stood next to her, gazing at the damage, and shook her head. “I’m a little worried for you.” One arm slipped around Bobbi’s waist. “You’re calling the sheriff, right?” Erin looked up into Bobbi’s eyes, which had lost some of their spark.

  “Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll call.” Bobbi slumped her shoulders.

  Amidst the anxiety floating in the room, Erin busied herself by cutting vegetables and lamb into cubes. As she threw everything into the stew pot, Bobbi strode into the kitchen, rubbing a towel on her head, her complexion gray.

  Erin looked on her with tenderness, cupping her jaw. “Did you ever eat today?”

  Bobbi shook her head. Then she raised her hands, “Don’t get high and mighty on me.”

  “Why don’t you go lie down? Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

  “I called the sheriff’s office. They’ll be here any time now.” Bobbi blew out her cheeks.

  Erin nodded. “Go on, sit down.” She pushed her lightly in the middle of her back.

  In ten minutes, a knock came. Erin came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Bobbi sighed and opened the door. Deputy Rick Santana stood with another deputy, Rosa Martin.

  Bobbi let them look at the damage to the door. “I don’t care about the damn door, but the fact that someone tried to gain entry into my home while I was gone has me really bugged.” She raked her hand through her head.

  Erin stood next to Bobbi. They all sat in the living area and Rick wrote Bobbi’s statement of the details in his small notebook.

  “I reported to you last Friday that Dr. Stewart was escorted out of town. We’ve not spotted her little car since. We wouldn’t have let it go by, that’s for sure.” He flipped through pages in his small notebook. “I see we came out to the clinic two weeks ago, and you pressed assault charges against a Wesley Myers. He just got out of county lockup.”

  Her heart in her throat, Erin watched Bobbi closely for her reaction.

  “I figured as much,” Bobbi said. She shifted on the sofa.

  “We’ll see what the neighbors say. Maybe someone caught him in the act. Although we didn’t get any reports from this area of town last night.” He closed his notebook and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Dr. Webster.” He tipped his hat to Erin. “Reverend.” The deputies left in the squad car, trolling slowly down the street.

  “Come on, let’s get you something to eat before you fall on your ass.” Erin grabbed Bobbi’s hand and led her to the table.

  Erin dug into her bowl of stew and bit into a biscuit she’d made with a mix. Bobbi’d hardly touched her food.

  Staring down at the table, Bobbi suddenly looked up to Erin. Her blue eyes danced with energy. “I think Wes Myers has a drug problem,” she blurted out.

  Erin set her fork on the plate, her eyes wide. “What?”

  “Wes. He’s skittish; I noticed it that Sunday night at the clinic. Did you see how skinny he is? At the tavern. And wan, even bordering on jaundiced, like he might have liver disease.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m going to tell the deputy.” She jogged into the living area, and got her phone off the foyer table.

  Erin caught snatches of the conversation as she went into the kitchen to put Bobbi’s plate into the oven to keep warm. When she got back to the dining table, Bobbi put her arms around her waist and swung her around. “Deputy Rick liked that theory. They’re getting a search warrant from the judge to check out his house and car. Maybe we’ll get him some help.”

  “I’m so impressed that you figured this out.”

  “Well, let’s not count the chickens. No eggs have hatched yet.”

  Erin smiled to see her much more relaxed. “We’ll see.” Her shoulders dropped from the release of tension and she snuggled into Bobbi’s arms. “You need to eat now.”

  “I’m as hungry as a bear,” Bobbi said. “Bring it on, Elf.”

  Erin playfully nudged Bobbi’s arm. “Will you stop with the elf thing? You may give me a complex. And you know what happens then?”

  “What, cutie?” Bobbi kissed her neck.

  “Stop it.” Erin batted at Bobbi’s head lightly. She crossed her arms on her chest and produced a tough-guy accent. “If ya mess wid us Sout Siders we’ll have ta sic da Irish Mafia on ya. Ya know, Bugsy Moran and his bunch?”

  Bobbi picked her up and kissed her deeply. “I’ll take on the Irish any time, Elf.”

  Er
in hollered. Bobbi replaced her feet on the floor. They hugged tenderly. “You’re staying, right?” Bobbi whispered.

  “Oh, yes.” Erin purred into Bobbi’s ear.

  Thirty

  When Bobbi arrived at the clinic on Tuesday morning, Yancy was just sprinting up to the staff door. Then, Gen’s office door stayed closed most of the morning, even after Yancy left an hour later. Careful of Dr. Lambert’s privacy, Bobbi didn’t mention Gen’s closed door during the morning with her nurse Doris, as, together, they moved patients into exam rooms and through assessments and treatments. At noon, Bobbi stood at the counter, entering information into her tablet. Gen walked up to the counter, her carefully coiffed hair in place, with her usual energy, and talked with Sheila, her nurse. When she left out the staff door, Bobbi knew something had happened. She’d never seen Gen take time off without scheduled vacation, and she’d not been ill since Bobbi started at the clinic in January.

  ****

  “I’m so sorry,” Erin said.

  Yancy hung her head, but Erin could see her eyes were teary. “Gen’s making tea. Would you like some?” Yancy pointed toward the kitchen end of the great room.

  They all sat quietly for a while at the dining table, sipping their tea.

  Gen began the conversation. “I’m a little shocked at my reaction, more than anything else.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “I’m really shaken up by this news.” She looked intensely at Yancy, then at Erin.

  Erin waited to let them talk about their feelings.

  Yancy stroked Gen’s back, both of them looking sorrowful. Erin could not feel exactly what they felt, but she knew this kind of loss—a special kind of grief focused on the loss of a dream—many times was as difficult as a physical death.

  Gen continued through her sniffles, “I thought we might have some problems conceiving through artificial insemination, but I hadn’t anticipated that I wouldn’t be able to conceive at all. I’m so disappointed.” She wept into Yancy’s shoulder.

  After Gen’s crying had subsided, Erin asked, “Yancy, how are you doing?”

  Yancy looked at her with red eyes. “I don’t know. I’m still in shock, I think. You know I’m turning forty-two this summer. My biological clock slowed its ticking dramatically this year, if you know what I mean, so I’m not a good candidate, either.”

  Gen smiled wanly and swept an errant tress off Yancy’s cheek.

  “Yes, I see. Gen’s and your issues are different but lead to a similar outcome. I’m so sorry. You were ready to be moms, weren’t you?”

  Both Gen and Yancy nodded.

  “I know I was, and Yancy had come around, once I convinced her she’d be a great parent. She’s so patient with kids.” Gen looked tenderly at Yancy, who smiled and kissed her cheek.

  Erin watched their display of affection, thinking what a supportive couple they were for each other, even in their vast difference in styles and personality. “I’d suggest you two take some time to grieve before considering other options. I know you want to move on, but your sorrow is real and should be treated with care.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Gen said. “This one,” she nudged Yancy, “may have a harder time with waiting than me.”

  “Oh, in what way?” Erin directed her question to Yancy.

  Yancy sighed deeply. “I’m the one who likes to run from feelings. I don’t like when I feel out of control. And I like to get things settled. Get the problems fixed. In fact, before I met Gen, I was in bad shape because of my inability to grieve losses I’d had in my twenties and then again in my thirties. I lost close people. My brother. My dad. My significant other. I entered therapy just as I met Gen. I don’t think we’d be together if I hadn’t gotten my shit together. I’m not good with long processes, like grieving.”

  “How were you going to handle nine months of me incubating a baby, darling?”

  Yancy’s mouth gaped. “Hey.” She nudged Gen back. “I would’ve coped…mostly.”

  Erin smiled at their banter, seeing it as a good sign they were working through their news. “What can I do?”

  “You can pray with us,” Gen said.

  Erin nodded. She gathered their hands in hers, bent over them, and prayed for their healing from their shock and grief.

  While driving home, Erin prayed for Gen and Yancy silently. Their plight had touched her. Listening to their grief had awakened some thoughts about her own biological clock, tick-ticking away. Gen and Yancy, crying about unborn children, made her wonder about her own stash of DNA material resting quietly and each month coming out of hiding, pushing one small ovum into the world, only to be met with silence. Yes, she wanted children too. She’d not, up until this moment, felt her chance to be somebody’s mom getting smaller by the moment. At thirty-four, she had time, but not endless amounts of it. A shocking thought. For the first time, she wondered whether Bobbi wanted children.

  Wow. And that thought startled her. Don’t rush this, she told herself. Bobbi and she just had entered a new phase of their relationship. She felt so good around her. Bobbi met her needs for brightness, tenderness, integrity, and in a very lovely package. Their banter kept her grinning, made their time together fun, but did not exclude deeper conversation. Bobbi also had been stepping deeper into her own spirituality, attending the Beer and Bible group, and showing up to see what church was all about a couple times. She suspected Bobbi would label herself an agnostic. One who questions God’s presence. Erin could deal with Bobbi’s nascent spiritual journey.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The clinic’s quietness calmed Bobbi after a night of on call. No one had yet arrived to start the day and she had the staff lounge to herself. She pushed the filter full of coffee into the machine and turned it on, smelling the wonderful promise of caffeine in the air as it poured into the carafe. Waiting for the machine to finish, she grabbed clean cups from the break room dishwasher, stacked them in their places on the cupboard shelf, and left one out next to the coffee maker for her own use.

  Rubbing her tired eyes, she hoped the caffeine would energize her sleep-deprived brain. Late spring, and the farmers and ranchers had begun working outside more. During the early evening, she had doctored more than one minor agricultural accident: a deeply embedded splinter, an ankle sprain, a laceration caused by barbed wire. Then during the night, two children arrived from the same family with suspected strep throat. The cultures would be back today, but she had started preventive antibiotics.

  Finally, at three or thereabouts, a pregnant woman called. Bobbi called the obstetrician, only to find out that she was on vacation. The woman had not entered full-on labor yet, so Bobbi remained on alert for another call from BCH. She had no patients this morning, thankfully, so decided to get some rest on the couch in the lounge, until sunlight pouring through the window into her eyes woke her at six this morning.

  Feeling peckish, Bobbi inserted money in the snack machine, picking the least sugary thing she could find. Just as she unwrapped the package of trail mix, behind her, Gen said, “I see your nutritional intake is as balanced as usual.”

  Bobbi whipped around, clutching her chest. “Crap. I didn’t hear you come in, Dr. Lambert.”

  Gen smiled. “Sorry. I’m a little early. You may have noticed I snuck out of the clinic early yesterday, so I’ve got tons of paperwork sitting on my desk and my first patient at nine.”

  Bobbi handed her the cup she held. “You may want this, then.”

  “Thanks.” Gen cupped her hands around the white porcelain. “Smells great. What are you doing here at the crack of the day?”

  “Ms. Stephens in labor at BCH, with Dr. Lawton-Mills on vacation this week, so I stepped in last night to admit her. No problems when I left at four-thirty. Dilating well and on schedule. BP staying low. Baby’s heart rate steady and strong.” Bobbi reached into her mind. “I think it’s her third child…Yeah. Things should move along well.”

  Gen flinched, turned pale, and mumbled, “Thanks for the coffee.” She left the break room.r />
  Feeling flummoxed at Gen’s quick departure, Bobbi put the pieces together. As soon as she’d mentioned the Stephens woman’s labor, Gen reacted. Yesterday’s closed door, Yancy’s arrival, and Gen’s early departure. She’d heard from their obstetrician, probably. Bobbi shook her head. While she didn’t know exactly what was up with Gen and Yancy, it had to be something about their attempt to become pregnant.

  Artificial Insemination, or AI, could be dodgy at best, so if Gen had any medical issues, she and Yancy would not be able to conceive naturally. Bobbi pursed her lips and sighed. She felt sorry for them. How would she feel? Did she even want kids? She liked her nieces fine enough, but never thought she’d have the time in her career to become pregnant, let alone be a mother. Maybe, if she found the right person who would be the other parent, it could work out. Did Erin want children? Bobbi stopped in her tracks. Wow, where did that thought come from?

  The phone buzzed, interrupting Bobbi’s mental processes. It was the hospital. After answering and getting the latest on Ms. Stephens, she poured the coffee out in the sink, grabbed her backpack, and left the clinic for BCH.

  ****

  When she finally arrived at her condo at midday, Bobbi wearily stripped off her scrubs and hit the shower. Nothing felt as good as the hot water sluicing away stiffness and tiredness. She laid her head back against the tiles. The front doorbell rang.

  Who in the hell? Bobbi yelled out she would be there shortly, while she raced to pull her clothes on over her still wet skin.

  She looked out the peephole. It was Wes Myers in camo pants and a black T-shirt. She took a deep breath. Should she call the sheriff? She grabbed her phone off the foyer table, her hand trembling slightly while she put it in her pants pocket. Swallowing air into her lungs, she braced herself and opened the metal door.

  She stared at Wes.

  He smirked, two front teeth missing. “Well, ain’t you going to invite me in, Doc?”

  “What do you want?” Bobbi glared at him from the middle of the open doorway, bracing her core and placing her feet wide to block his entrance.