Bobbi and Soul

by J. B. Marsden

  As Erin brought in the fajitas on plates, she decided to take the doctor by the horns. “I’m in charge now, Dr. Webster. Just call me Nurse O’Rourke. You will do as I say. You’re going to eat as much of this as you can, no whining. Then I’m getting you to the bed, where you should be, after a nice, hot wash up.”

  Bobbi’s eyes got wide. “What? You’re not in charge of me, Elf.” She winced, laughing lightly.

  “Think again, Doc. The Elf has spoken. Now, I’ve got your fajita fixed. You will eat it.” Erin stood over the couch, put the plate on the chair seat, and assisted Bobbi from a lying to a sitting position. Erin, taking on her tough love stance by standing akimbo, watched over Bobbi as she ate.

  Bobbi glanced up to her. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I’ll eat after you’ve eaten and I’ve got you into bed.”

  “Your meal will get cold.”

  “It’s warming in the oven.”

  Bobbi sighed loudly and then tucked into her food, eating most of it, while Erin watched.

  Finally, Erin asked with a tinge of concern in her voice, “Do you know what’s happening with Wes?”

  “I heard from the deputy around three this afternoon. They did a sweep of his house and found lots of drug paraphernalia. He was cooking meth in his basement. Dumbass. He could’ve blown up his wife and him both. They talked to his wife at her new place of work. She hasn’t seen him for three weeks, which was comforting to hear. But they’ve yet to pick him up. Rick said they’ve got some leads and hope to nab him in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s good news. I’m staying here. At least until he’s arrested and behind bars.”

  “What?” Bobbi looked up from her plate with distress on her face.

  Erin figured she’d receive this response to her temporarily moving in. “No argument, remember. Nurse O’Rourke in charge. My mom and dad decided to make the trip from Chicago to see me this weekend, instead of me going there. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. So, I’m staying this next week.”

  “Not just until they nab Wes?” Bobbi’s face now looked confused.

  “Well, I misspoke. I’m staying until Wes has been put away and you’re healed and can take care of yourself. Although that proposition is pretty dicey, given your lack of self-care.” Erin grinned cheekily. “So there.”

  Bobbi finished her plate. “I’m not going to argue. If you want to waste your precious vacation shacked up as my personal slave, who am I to say no?” Bobbi yawned.

  “Now, wash-up time, then bed.” Erin took the plate into the kitchen, came back, and helped Bobbi to the bathroom.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The next morning, Bobbi’s phone rang after breakfast. Her mom.

  “How are you doing today?”

  Bobbi huffed. “I’m doing better every day, Mom. My wound is healing. Erin stayed over last night in full-mother mode, flitting around me as if I’m incapacitated. I’m letting her think I’m unable to function so she feels useful.”

  “I heard that,” Erin shouted from the bathroom, where she had just showered.

  “I’m glad she’s there, child of mine. Dad and I’ve been worried about you. More than when Stephanie put you in the ER. This guy and his knife could have been the end of you. I’ve not been able to think about anything else, so, since I’m off for spring break starting Friday, and I’m flying down for a couple of days. I’m not asking, I’m telling.” Her mom’s voice got commanding.

  Bobbi knew she couldn’t stop this steamroller called Mom from its beeline straight for her. “I’d love to see you, Mom,” she said, trying for upbeat and welcoming in her own voice.

  When Bobbi got off the phone, Erin came from the bathroom, dressed in clean clothes, looking fresh and bright. Bobbi expected her to take flight any second, like a sprite with wings. Bobbi smiled and said, “My mom will be down Friday for a few days. We’re having a convergence of parental units this weekend, it seems.”

  “Oh.” Erin stopped toweling her wet hair and said, her big brown eyes widening, “Where will we put them all?”

  “I thought they all could stay at the vicarage,” Bobbi said, wondering if her mom would really agree to lodge a county away.

  “Hmm. And supposedly I would stay here with you?” Erin looked skeptical.

  “Well, yeah. Do you have a better idea?” Bobbi felt she was about to be overruled, unfortunately. She ached to have Erin here, but her plan seemed about to crumble.

  “I think your mom should stay with you. She’s been in Oregon stewing over you, so she needs to be around you. You need to let her bustle around and take care of you.”

  “My mom, bustle around and take care of me?” Bobbi said, wide-eyed. “You’re projecting your mom onto mine, or your own mothering methods onto my mom’s very different ones. My mom’s more the ‘up and at ‘em’ type. It’ll be boot camp here, not a coddle-your-kid weekend.”

  “Oh.” Erin stuck out her lower lip. “Poor baby.” She wrapped Bobbi in her arms. “I would coddle you. My mom would nurse you. My dad would pray for you. We’re all big saps when it comes to sick-room tending.”

  “I think I knew this,” Bobbi said, smirking. “My family comes from the stiff-upper-lip society. How do you think I made it through med school? I’m one tough cookie.”

  Erin patted Bobbi’s chest. “Well, this cookie had a bite taken out of her a few days ago. I want to see the cookie repaired and back to normal before someone decides to dip her in milk.”

  Bobbi hooted, then clutched her midsection and grunted. “Damn.”

  “See what I mean? You need some coddling.”

  “Fine, you can duke it out with my mom, who is known as the terror of third grade students in Ketchum, Oregon.”

  ****

  On Friday afternoon, Bobbi got a text that Fran Webster had arrived at the Denver International Airport and wended her way to Valley View in a rental car.

  Erin finished up laundry, brushing aside Bobbi’s attempts to help fold sheets and towels. “Go sit down. You’re as jumpy as a cat.”

  Bobbi nodded. “Okay, okay.”

  “Are you nervous?” Erin asked, as she put the folded sheets in the closet. “It’s just your mom.”

  “Ha. No adult ever says, ‘it’s just my mom.’ Don’t you know that? Also, I still haven’t heard about Wes yet, either.”

  The doorbell rang. Bobbi hadn’t heard anyone drive up. She jumped with nerves. Peeking through the door, she saw her mom holding a small carry-on bag. Her hair whipped around in the wind.

  Bobbi opened the door. “Hi.”

  Fran Webster plopped the case onto the floor and took Bobbi in a light hug. “Don’t want to hurt you. Let me see you.” She pushed Bobbi apart from her and raked her gaze along Bobbi’s abdomen, then back up to her face. “I think you’ll live, Roberta Francene.”

  “Mom, this is Erin O’Rourke.”

  Fran sized up Erin while shaking her hand. “Where’s the rest of you?” She laughed lightly.

  Erin laughed with her. “Good to meet you, Ms. Webster.”

  Just then, Bobbi’s phone rang. From her peripheral vision, she caught Erin taking her mom into the bedroom to unpack. “Yes, Dr. Webster here.”

  It was Deputy Rick. “Good news, Doctor. We found Wes Myers at his buddy’s house in Johnson County. He’s safely in the county jail, being arraigned on a $100,000 bond this afternoon on charges of aggravated assault and drug possession and manufacture. We also charged him with a hate crime, since Colorado protects persons by virtue of sexual orientation and you said he called you an offensive name. We interviewed your neighbor, Ms. Dobbs. She did see him attack you with the knife and said she came over as soon as she could. She identified Wes’s truck, but didn’t hear your conversation with him.”

  “That’s very good news, Deputy. What do I need to do? Do I need an attorney?” Bobbi asked.

  “It never hurts to consult someone. You have recourse to a civil suit as well as the state courts. I have your st
atement about the attack, we are running the DNA, but I don’t think we will need it, given Ms. Dobbs’ witness statement. The prosecutor will be in touch with you very shortly.”

  “And who’s the prosecutor for his case?”

  “State’s Attorney Lynn Sanderson. She’s pretty young, very aggressive.”

  “I see.” Bobbi ran her hand through her hair. She definitely didn’t need all the hassle Wes Myers stirred up but having a good prosecutor may help. She needed not so much to be avenged for the attack, as to see that Wes never attacked anyone else. “I have a question, Deputy. What if I dropped the assault charges and left you to deal only with the drug charges? I want to see he gets some help, not just jail time.”

  Rick paused. “That’d be in the prosecutor’s hands, how she charges him. Right now, he’s being charged with assault with a deadly weapon, unlawful manufacture of meth, and criminal possession of a controlled substance. You can talk with Lynn about the sentence bargaining process, if you want. You’ll hear from Lynn soon.”

  “Thanks.” Bobbi sighed. They talked a while more about the arrest and Bobbi’s part in Wes’s charges. She closed the call and sat down on the sofa with a sigh.

  Erin’s hand snaked around her shoulder and rubbed her neck briskly.

  “I’ll give you ten years to stop that,” Bobbi said under a groan of pleasure, as the anxiety of the week lessened for a moment under Erin’s warm hands.

  “Let’s have something to eat,” Erin said, kissed Bobbi on her head, and went into the small kitchen.

  Bobbi felt exhausted. So much happening in such a short time. She tiredly pulled herself from the sofa and met her mom coming out of the bedroom. “Did you have a good trip, Mom?”

  “It was fine. How are you holding up? Your dark circles have dark circles, so you’ll hit the bed early. I’ll take the sofa out here.”

  “Huh uh. That sofa will kill you.” Bobbi could see her mom had arrived like the cavalry, taking over. “You can sleep with me in the bed.”

  “Where’s Erin sleeping?” Fran looked over at Erin, working at the stove.

  Bobbi sighed, missing Erin even before she had left. “We decided she’ll stay at the vicarage tonight. She’s driving to pick up her folks at the Denver Amtrak station tomorrow around seven-thirty. So, an early start for her.” Bobbi sat on the sofa with another groan, keeping her hand placed on her stitched stomach.

  “Have you met them?”

  “No.”

  “If you’re okay here, I’ll help Erin in the kitchen and pump her for information.” Fran smiled wickedly and winked at Bobbi.

  “Mom…” Bobbi whined. “Leave her alone.”

  Fran laughed.

  Bobbi laid her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. The next thing she knew, Erin kissed her on the forehead. “Do you want something to eat, sweetheart?”

  Bobbi blinked. “What time is it?”

  “Time to eat. Early evening. I need to go home fairly soon.”

  “I don’t want you to leave, you know.”

  “You’ve played the sick card for two days and I’ve played the good girlfriend; now I have to play the good daughter.” Erin gently helped Bobbi up and over to the kitchen table. “We’ve got good food. Your mom even made some biscuits. How about that?” Erin pointed to a basket overflowing with steaming goodness.

  Bobbi took in the fragrances: biscuits and vegetable soup. Warm and cuddly food. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  Fran spoke as she brought another plate into the dining area, “And I also made a cobbler from some peaches I brought from Hendley’s Orchard.”

  Bobbi shook her head. “And I told Erin you weren’t the kind of mother to coddle me. Guess I’m eating those words, quite literally.”

  Fran gave them both a look of mock hurt. “What a thing to say—that your mother would not mother you. I never.”

  They all three grinned. “Well, I, for one, am glad to be coddled. But I’m also jumping out of my skin to get back to work on Monday.”

  “Monday?” Erin nearly shouted.

  Bobbi dug into the food, ignoring Erin’s negative response about work. “Oh, Mom, these are fantastic.” The biscuit melted in Bobbi’s mouth, causing her to moan. “And the soup tastes so yummy, with those fresh veggies.” Bobbi eyed Erin, who had yet to take a mouthful of food. “Are you okay?”

  Fran looked back and forth between the two women.

  Shock still on her face, Erin said, “It’s only been a week and you’re going back to work? What doctor allows this?”

  “Gen said I could decide for myself when I felt well enough to take clinic patients. I’m not allowed to be on call, she said, until the stitches are out, in case I’m alone and need assistance with a patient. I need to get back to work, Erin. I’m going crazy just sitting around doing nothing. I don’t want the other fellows and attendings working overtime just to cover my patients any longer than necessary.”

  Bobbi’s mom, eating her soup and biscuits, said between bites, “That sounds reasonable to me.”

  “Oh?” Erin said, her brows knotting. “I just worry that you’re doing too much too soon. You have a tendency to ignore your tiredness. I don’t want you to go in too soon.”

  “It’ll be all right.” Bobbi flashed her a smile, trying to look as confident as she could, even as her belly ached after sitting at the table for ten minutes. Erin’s words washed over her in warmth and caring, and she looked on her tenderly. “I appreciate your care for me, you know.”

  Erin smiled, took Bobbi’s hand, and stroked along her knuckles gently. “I do care, Dr. Take Charge.”

  “Watch it, Elf. I may be inclined to a tickle session.”

  “Don’t you dare. You’ll hurt yourself and I’ll kick your butt.” Erin spooned soup into her mouth, but Bobbi noticed the slight smile curling her lips.

  “Okay, girls, there will be no tickling or butt-kicking on my watch,” Fran chided, shaking her spoon at them. “Get back to eating, ‘cause the doctor needs to get to bed, and the priest needs to get to her house. Chop-chop.”

  After they finished eating, and Erin and Bobbi had kissed goodnight, Fran shooed Bobbi into the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. Bobbi got into bed, and, shortly after, Fran entered and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I like her,” Fran said simply.

  “I do too.”

  “She’s good for you. She doesn’t mess around, speaks her mind. My kind of woman. Well, good night, kid. Sleep as long as you need tomorrow. I’ll take care of whatever comes up. But I’m making pancakes for breakfast, just so you know.” Fran patted Bobbi’s knee, rose from the bed, and shut the door quietly.

  Bobbi smiled at her mother’s retreating form. She understood her mother’s reticence in speaking of emotions. None of her family was particularly good at sharing deep, inner thoughts. They got things done. The Websters were practical, earthbound, grounded ranchers, not rhetoricians.

  But Erin. How glad Bobbi was to have Erin’s skill with emotions, her support in putting herself out there. Bobbi relaxed into the bed, her pain pill kicking in after the soreness caused by sitting up at the table. Her eyes fluttered closed, the smile still ghosting her mouth, as she thought of what Erin’s parents would be like. Short? Clever? She chuckled. Coddling?

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “I don’t know why we didn’t think of taking the train before. It beat the heck out of flying out of O’Hare.” Erin’s dad, Scott, laid their two pieces of luggage inside the door at the vicarage. “Nice digs, honey. Nicer than my first vicarage. Remember, Meg?”

  “How can I forget mice, bats, sagging floors, and breezy windows?” Meg, Erin’s mother answered.

  Erin shut the door behind them and led them into the downstairs bedroom of the Victorian house that served as her parish’s vicarage. “The vicarage was built in 1894, so it’s seen its share of priests over the years. You guys can take this guest room. I’m upstairs. I’ve got a little study up there too. The bathroom’
s just down this hall. When you’re ready, I’ve got some brunch ready.”

  Erin had not seen her parents for a full calendar year, her longest absence from them, and they looked good to her, stepping out of the sleeping car at Denver’s Amtrak station with their bags. Her dad looked tousled, yet still his energetic self, with his salt-and-pepper, thinning hair its usual neat and short style. Mom’s jeans and hoodie outfit looked cute, making her seem forty-five, not sixty-five. She was Erin’s height, but had lighter brown hair with some wisps of gray, swept back off her face in a curly cut. They embraced for a long time on the platform, until her mom had noticed that they were blocking the flow of people coming to and from the train car.

  On the way home, they talked about Holy Spirit and the parish discussion that led to her amended contract. Scott and Meg were particularly worried about Bobbi, even though they’d never met her. Erin chose to keep quiet about Bobbi’s previous troubles with her ex-girlfriend Stephanie.

  While Scott and Meg unpacked and freshened up, Erin called Bobbi around eleven. “Hi, Doctor. Are you behaving yourself?”

  “Hi. I’m good. How was your parents’ trip?”

  Bobbi sounded tired, so Erin wanted to make her call short. “Good. We thought we’d bring dinner over tonight for you and Fran. How’s pot roast sound?”

  “You don’t have to do that. Mom can cook, you know.”

  “That’s not the reason. My mom needs to cook to feel needed, so you’d be doing us all a favor, ‘cause until she can cook, she’s going to drive us crazy.”

  “Oh, well, to save everyone’s mental health, we’ll just have to concede to her needs.” Bobbi yawned. “Sorry.”

  “Did you not sleep well?”

  “Not the best. Damn drugs. I’ve never been great at pain pills. They put me to sleep quickly, but I wake a couple hours later.” Bobbi yawned again.