Doctor Steamy

by Kristen Kelly

  “Did he?”

  “Are you kidding? That man was as tight lipped as a clam. They could have dragged this out for years before they found that out. I’m so relieved. Hey, will you call Patrick and tell him thank you for getting that guy to take my case pro bono?”

  I knew he wouldn’t keep his promise ,but how could I be mad now?

  “About Patrick. We aren’t exactly on speaking terms. Did you know he actually paid my tuition last semester too and I’m set for the entire year? At least I think he did. They say it’s some sort of grant, but I don’t remember applying for a grant.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  “Is it? Because I never told Patrick to do that. I already had the money set aside with all my overtime. At this rate, he’ll go through his entire retirement account before he’s even fifty years old.”

  “What makes you think its retirement money? Maybe he’s in charge of an international spy ring or something.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. “Or something.”

  “What happened between you two?” She took the pot off the stove, placed it on a hot pad, and took a seat across me.

  When I told her what had transpired the previous evening, she patted my hand and said, “Sounds like he’s just looking out for you, Delly. Maybe you should give the guy a break.”

  “Susan, he’s smothering me.”

  “Maybe that’s what it feels like now, but something tells me there’s more to this guy than just his money. He really cares, Del. That’s rare in a relationship, and look what he did for me with the lawyer and all that. He hardly knows me.”

  I shrugged. “So he put in a good word with a lawyer who was doing this for free anyway. So what.”

  “So what? That’s huge.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “So?”

  “It’s not just that. I know nothing about Patrick and that scares me. Nothing. He’s so secretive. I don’t know where his money came from, which is weird. I’m starting to think he takes bribes or something, and I do not want to get caught up in that shit.”

  “I guess I see your point.”

  “I just wish that...”

  “What?”

  “That I was able to tell him about the baby. I don’t know why. Just to share that loss I guess, not that it would change anything.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I almost did but then I chickened out. Anyway, doesn’t matter anymore. We’re done.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Patrick

  Everything reminded me of her.

  Especially her shampoo.

  The lilacs were in bloom and on a whim, I’d flown my private plane to Rochester New York just so I could attend their lilac festival. I thought it would make me happy, make me feel closer to her, or at least give me an idea on how to win her back. It had the opposite effect however, sending me into deep depression.

  For the first two weeks, I’d made it a habit of hitting McGuire’s every night at eleven, except Sundays after work. Hardly anyone was there at that time. I’d sat there for a minimum of three hours, without a break, fearful I’d miss Delila if she happened to walk in. She never did, and by the time I’d left, my bladder was exploding.

  I knew enough not to send her roses, but I had to do something, so I sent carnations instead. Or daisies. And once, a potted plant. I’d expected a phone call at least, but none came.

  My stomach in knots, I was living on Slim Jims and peanuts washed down with Gatorade to replenish my electrolytes. At least medical school was good for something.

  I didn’t want to see anyone and I wasn’t dating. I never went anywhere except work and home. I’d stayed out of restaurants and never went to the gym. The only place I allowed myself to frequent was the park.

  Delila loved the park more than anyone I’d ever met. I’d kept to our day-off pattern of going there on Sundays in hopes of running into her. I hit every food truck from one end of the park to the other. Ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner there. Even in the rainstorm that time. I ordered chickpea burgers, stuffed grape leaves, sliced lamb sandwiches but never chicken and rice. Never chicken and rice.

  The swan boats were another matter. Once, I found an old couple seated on a bench. People who looked like they’d been together for a long time. I told them, to never take each other for granted, then I bought the whole load of tickets on one of the swan boats for them. They just looked at me, flabbergasted.

  After a month, I couldn’t stand myself. This so wasn’t me. I didn’t get all blubbery over greeting cards or carry a picture of my girlfriend in my wallet. Come to think of it, I’d never even taken her picture. Ever. What the fuck was wrong with me? Either I went too overboard or I didn’t do enough. I tried to recall her face in my dreams, but it kept getting caught up with my mother’s somehow. Not that was a little weird.

  By the beginning of September, I’d had enough. Mostly of myself. A diversion was in order. I needed to go home and check up on Sean. We hadn’t spoken in a month and a half, which had me worried. Maybe it shouldn’t have. Sean had definitely turned his life around, but the past was always there. That night I bought my plane ticket for the end of the week to fly back to Ireland.

  CHAPTER 14

  Delila

  It took me six weeks to get over my mad. Six long weeks of crying myself to sleep, eating Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms for dinner, and spending most of my free time with my niece and nephews because they were the only ones that could cheer me. How the hell did I get like this? I wasn’t a weak woman. Hell, I didn’t even date that much and there was a whole pool of men out there. Not just one, I told myself.

  And Tom? I almost missed him, or someone like him. He’d been a good friend to me once. Turned out, the night he broke into my apartment was because he’d just had a fight with his girlfriend. We’d only seen each other twice after that. Once for lunch and once when I just happened to run into him at the mall. He was back with his girlfriend too, a chic with purple hair, nails like a freaking tarantula, and tattoos on her neck, but hey, she obviously made him happy so who was I to judge? Nope. Not me. Not judging anyone anymore. I wanted Tom to be happy. I really did but...

  I wasn’t.

  One day I’d had enough of my sappy self. I decided to pick myself up, dust myself off, and get on with life.

  Told myself I wasn’t sad anymore, just numb. That probably had to do with avoiding Patrick. Who knows what kind of blubbering idiot I would turn into, when I finally saw his face for the first time since our breakup.

  I wasn’t over him. Not yet, but I could pretend to be. He was just a man, right? And there were plenty of men like him in the world. Maybe not like Patrick, but I didn’t need a carbon copy.

  I hadn’t felt good since we’d parted. I couldn’t say what it was about Patrick that made me feel so alive, but... There was a hole inside me somewhere, and I didn’t know how to fill it. Something was missing.

  A piece of my heart, perhaps.

  I’d avoided him long enough. If I was going to become a whole person again, I needed to look him in the face, tell myself it was over and move on. Maybe Patrick and I weren’t suited for each other but couldn’t we at least stay friends? Was that even possible? I didn’t know but I needed to find out.

  I kept glancing at my watch to see how close to quitting time it was, in between running tables and working the cash register. I’d wore makeup, something I never did for work because I was too tired at the end of the day to wash it off, and my lacy bra and panties, though God knows why. I’d also dyed my hair back to the original color because I knew Patrick liked it. Way to go if I was going to play it cool, I thought. Well, maybe I just wanted him to see what he was missing, I told myself.

  “Forty-five minutes,” I told myself. And a half hour after that before I drive to McGuire’s Pub for those beers I’d been avoiding. Beer. Yeah, that’s all I’m looking forward to.

  And Patrick? How would he feel when he saw me? Surely, he’d still be stopping in M
cGuire’s after work. What if I saw him with another woman? Was I strong enough to handle that? Yes, I’d decided. I’d have to be. Patrick’s friendship was more important. I missed him. If we couldn’t be a couple, I still wanted him in my life.

  Two hours later, I was sitting in the pub with my second beer of the evening—when I overheard a guy at the end of the bar talking about some cop he was grateful to.

  Patrick.

  Nah, it couldn’t be. There were hundreds of cops in Boston. What were the chances? Pretty high, I answered since Patrick was the only cop I’d ever seen come into McGuire’s. I got off the barstool, and sat at a table close enough to hear the rest of the conversation.

  “Just paid the huge retainer I’d asked him for,” the man was saying. “And you know how hard it is getting clients right out of law school. You have to either get some hot shot litigator to take you under their wing or be in the right place at the right time.”

  “And that’s how it happened?” the guy beside him asked. His bald head reflected shadows from the overhead lights.

  “It was strange really. I mean, I’d just passed the bar last month. I knew no one and I had no experience whatsoever.”

  “So why did he pick you?”

  “He didn’t say, but my mentor told me he wanted to give a leg up to a brand new lawyer. I guess that was what I was. A newbie.”

  Bald Guy laughed. “And this was a high profile case, you say. Shit, how did you get so lucky?”

  “Stepped in some shit I guess.” The first guy took a sip of whatever he was drinking, and when he lifted his head, I got a better look at him. About twenty-eight, maybe, with dark hair and a suit that looked about two sizes too big.

  “So I says to the guy...”

  “He’s a cop right?”

  “Yeah, big strong dude, but he never gave me his name. I hear he frequents this bar sometimes.”

  It is Patrick!

  “That’s why you’re here. To thank him.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Anyhow, I says to the guy, this is way out of my expertise, man. I have no idea how to get this lady off. It’s the United States government for fuck’s sake and know what he says to me?”

  “No. What?”

  “Tells me exactly what to do. Says he used to be a lawyer himself. So the guy walks me through the ropes, cuts me a huge check, stamps my name on it, and then says to keep it all shush shush.”

  Bald Guy frowned. “But you can’t , can you cuz you just told me?”

  “Guilty as charged. This guy changed my life! Next thing I know the Law Office of David Segali is calling my name. Wants me to be their junior litigator with a possible partnership in five years.”

  “Holy shit. He did change your life.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  I nearly spilled my ginger ale, I’d gotten so excited by what I heard.

  “Know what?” asked the newbie lawyer. “I don’t think he’s coming in tonight. We’ll come back another time.” They paid the tab and then they left.

  Realizing I’d made a terrible mistake with Patrick, I’d sat in that booth another hour that night eating chips and drinking so much ginger ale I thought I would float away. I waited and waited for Patrick to come, but he never did.

  After checking in at McGuire’s for the next five days straight, I admitted to myself that Patrick probably was never coming back. Not to this bar. Not ever. Disheartened but still determined, I needed a plan to win him back.

  CHAPTER 15

  Delila

  My heart was sick. Now I missed Patrick more than ever. So much so, that I’d barely slept. I had, however, stopped eating cereal for dinner, because now I had hope we could be together. A slim sort of hope, but hope just the same.

  After going to Patrick’s apartment and finding no one there, plus a dozen newspapers on his doorstep, I was reasonably certain he hadn’t been home in quite some time. He’d not been to the park recently either, because I’d asked all the chicken and rice vendor. I didn’t want to ask for him at work, because that made me feel like a stalker.

  One night, I was pouring coffee at the Cheesecake Factory, when I heard I had a phone call. I strolled back to the kitchen, curious.

  Patrick.

  I quickened my steps, reaching the phone in seconds, my heart hammering against my ribs.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Delila? One and the same born in Cork so many years ago. Of course it is. How many Delilas can there be, so.”

  “Um, yeah. I’m.. I mean, who is this?”

  “Lost your accent completely so you did. My brother did too. Well mostly.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “You do not.”

  “And you’re calling me why?”

  “Oh. Oh hey. I was fixing to ask you a favor I was.”

  “A favor?”

  “My brother. His name is Patrick. I’ve just been to his flat and...”

  “He isn’t there.”

  “Do you know where I can find him?”

  I laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine. You’re Patrick’s brother? He never mentioned he had a brother.”

  “Kind of a private chap, now isn’t he?”

  “I guess,” I said sadly.

  “Can you tell me where I be finding himself?”

  “I wish I could. Is it important? Never mind. Its none of my business but...”

  “I want him to meet my wife is all.”

  “Your wife?”

  “We haven’t been in touch recently and I know my brother was probably worried so...”

  “Worried about your wife?”

  “About myself actually. See, I’ve caused him a bit of trouble over the years and... Well I’m apt to just take off now and again but this time it was with me wife. We’ve been traveling around Europe these last weeks. Patrick will not be knowing this so I wanted to...”

  “You wanted to explain.. I get it.”

  “That’s it. Boy, you’re smart.”

  I laughed. “Thanks. Know what? I’m looking for him, myself. Maybe we could put our heads together?” I asked hopefully.

  He wrinkled his brow and puffed out his lips.“Our heads?”

  “To try and figure out where he went,” I explained. “Listen, can we get together later? I’m almost off shift.”

  “Off? You’re off what?”

  “Work. My shift is nearly over.”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned on his freckled face. “That would be grand, lass.”

  “Eight o’clock sound okay?”

  “It does.”

  “Great. See you then. Oh wait. Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a pub I heard Patty talking about a lot.”

  “McGuire’s. Good choice. See you at eight.”

  I’D NEVER LAUGHED SO much in my life. Turned out Sean was the comedian of the family and the more he drank the more jokes he told.

  By midnight we still hadn’t discussed where Patrick might be.

  After I’d wiped the tears from my eyes from laughing so much I asked, “How come your wife didn’t come?”

  “Jet lag. She needed the sleep.” He took another swig of his beer and then chased it with another shot. After wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, his roving eye caught sight of a young woman with long blonde hair across the room. Judging by the roll of her eyes, I think he winked at her. Patrick and his brother were nothing alike and I was glad.

  “All those businesses,” I said. “How in the world does he keep track?”

  “Well, I run the big corporation. Or I pretend to.” He chuckled.

  “And the rest... ?”

  “Each one was begun in order to help someone and that person is the one running the business. The bakery is run by a guy who lost his leg. The smoke shop by two old ladies he found on the street, and the list goes on. All except the shelters. Those were set up in his wife’s name. Run by professionals he hired.”

  “How did she die, if I may ask?”
/>
  “Fella off his nut broke into the place Maggie was working. Small bakery out in Malahide. He shot her. Guy from one of our shelters actually.”

  “How awful.”

  “Not as awful as when they let the guy go. Patrick was a Solicitor then. Did everything he could do to make sure the bloke didn’t walk but in the end...”

  “He got off anyway.”

  “He did and that’s when Patrick hung up his robes.”

  “And became a cop.”

  “Right so.”

  I shoved another chip in my mouth, trying not to cry. How the hell had I been so wrong about Patrick? He wasn’t trying to control me or anyone else. He was trying to save the world.

  “We have to find him, Sean?”

  “Right.” He reached down into a satchel by his feet, and pulled out a laptop. Lifting the screen, I saw a photo of a beautiful woman with long black hair in a white dress. Sean stood staring at her for several seconds before he said, “Don’t know how you women do it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Think without your dick inside your brain.”

  I laughed. “I guess that’s why they call it love.”

  “It’ll be a miracle if I don’t screw this one up.”

  “She’s very pretty,” I remarked.

  “That she is. That she is.” He started moving the mouse all around the table. “Just have to get into Patrick’s schedule. I think I can remember his password.”

  An hour-and-a-half later, Sean’s eyes grew wide. The corners of his mouth stretched into a wide grin. “I’m in,” he announced. “Just have to find...Oh. Oh this is not good. Not good at all.”

  “What, what, what? Tell me,” I struggled to keep the panic out of my voice.

  “He’s at the castle.”

  “The castle?”

  “Yeah. He hasn’t been there since Maggie died. It’s where he goes when he’s at rock bottom.”