A Roux of Revenge

by Connie Archer

  “Leverage for what?” Lucky was mystified.

  “She was let go from her last position . . . in Bennington—there were two malpractice claims by patients against the hospital’s insurer. And that wasn’t all. I got the whole history from my insurance agent. Before the malpractice claims in Bennington, she had been working in Boston. She left Boston because of a wrongful-death action.” Elias sighed. “It was my own stupid fault. I agreed to hire her without running it past my insurance carrier because I knew her, knew her work, how good a doctor she is. But she lied to me—a huge lie of omission.”

  “You said the claims were against the hospital in Bennington?”

  Elias nodded. “Yes. Usually the hospital carries the insurance and, in fact, often advises doctors not to carry their own, so they’re not personally vulnerable to a claim.”

  “If she’s such a good doctor, why the malpractice accusations?”

  Elias shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t know the details of each case. But I did start to notice that she had a rather cavalier attitude—dismissive—toward a few of my patients. I asked her about it, but she refused to discuss it. None of the Clinic’s patients have complained to me—at least not yet, but . . . I don’t know what to say. Emotional problems? A disconnect? Maybe she shouldn’t be treating patients at all.”

  “And the wrongful death in Boston?”

  “That can happen to any doctor, even when they’ve done everything possible to save a patient. Families are sometimes angry. They want to lash out at the person they blame for a loved one’s death. But in that case she misdiagnosed acute appendicitis and a young woman died.”

  “How could she miss that?”

  “Appendicitis is strange. It can present in many different forms, and this young girl had no elevated white count, no fever, none of the classic signs. Frankly it could have happened to anyone. Paula’s mistake was that she didn’t keep looking for an explanation of the pain.”

  “That’s terrible!” Lucky said. “How did you find all this out if she didn’t tell you?”

  “From my insurer. I blame myself for not running her through the system before I agreed to hire her. She knew I’d find out eventually, and what I think is, she hoped to involve me in a relationship again, and once involved, maybe she figured I’d be willing to overlook it, to pay the premium on the malpractice insurance, assuming they’d cover her. Even if I were so inclined to keep her on, the Clinic doesn’t have that kind of budget. A large hospital couldn’t pay that kind of exorbitant sum. I never realized . . . how manipulative a woman she is. Her plan was to rekindle our old relationship and put me in a position where I couldn’t renege on our agreement.”

  “Does that mean she can’t work anywhere?”

  “She’ll find work. I think she just took the easy way out by coming to Snowflake until the case in Boston is settled one way or the other. When I confronted her about not telling me, we had a very ugly scene. Then yesterday one of my patients told me they were sorry you and I had broken up. I was stunned. I had no idea she had managed to create all those lies and distractions and innuendoes. I had no idea she was doing her best to cause trouble between us. I was so stupid. I still can’t believe she was so calculating. She’s not the woman I thought she was.” Elias rubbed his forehead. “She’s gone now. She’s left Snowflake. Can you forgive me, Lucky? I should have stayed in better touch with you this week. I should have come to see you as soon as I realized things were getting weird. And I should have been with you that night in the cornfield. I heard all about it from several people. They just looked at me as if I were lower than dirt—abandoning you when you were in trouble.”

  Lucky stared into her half-full mug. “Elias . . . I’m not really sure how I feel right now. I thought you had turned your back on me. It was obvious what she was doing the day I walked into your office.”

  “I was embarrassed that day. I know what it looked like, but I thought you’d . . . I don’t know . . . have trust in me. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I was very clear with her. That I am involved with you. That I have feelings for you.”

  “I just can’t sort all this out right now.”

  Elias’s face had grown pale. “Lucky . . .”

  “I’m sorry. Please. I just can’t talk about this right now. What’s happened this week has been very hurtful, even if it wasn’t really your fault. But it’s made me think, about myself, about my life, about what I’m doing, about . . . I know that whoever I’m with has to be someone I can trust totally. Trust and respect are the most important things to me.”

  Elias’s face was grim. “You can trust me, Lucky. I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never led you on. I thought that you loved me. That we could have a real future together.”

  What was holding her back? He had poured out his heart, and yet she still held on to the hurt? Why was it so hard to forgive him for the insults that had taken place? Was he the right man for her? Regardless of how attracted to him she still was, she needed time to think. She remained silent at the table.

  When she didn’t speak, Elias sighed and rose from his chair. “I don’t blame you for being upset. I was blind. I was an idiot not to see what Paula was up to. But I’ve never lied to you, Lucky.”

  She looked up at him.

  “You know where I am if you change your mind.” The hurt was apparent on his face. He walked down the hall and closed the door quietly behind him.

  Chapter 53

  MIRIAM REACHED OUT to Janie’s hand and squeezed it tightly as they approached the encampment. Janie held a small suitcase in her other hand. Miriam’s anxiety was palpable. Lucky couldn’t imagine how daunting this meeting must be for her, a woman who had torn herself away from everything she knew. Close to twenty years had passed since she had seen her family, her clan, spoken a language she had almost forgotten.

  Lucky slipped her hand through Jack’s arm as they followed Miriam and Janie up the hillside. Miriam’s back was ramrod straight, as if she expected punishment for her exodus. They entered the clearing. Eamon stood in the center, apart from everyone else. The entire clan—men, women and children—stood waiting for them. The vans were packed and ready, the area cleared, and the campfires extinguished. Eamon smiled broadly as they approached. Janie’s eyes held a barely suppressed excitement as she looked first at one person and then another.

  One woman took a step forward. Her hair was a deep auburn, like Janie’s. She wore a bulky sweater over a long brightly colored skirt. Hesitant at first, she rushed toward Miriam and grasped her hands. “Morag! Do you remember me?” she asked.

  Miriam’s eyes filled with tears. “Aislinn. Yes, yes, of course I remember you.”

  The woman reached out and enveloped Miriam in her broad arms. “Fàilte dhachaigh, mo sheann charaid. Welcome home, old friend.” She smiled and took Janie’s hand. “And you must be Janie. We’ve been hearing a lot about you for the past few days.” She smiled broadly. “Would you like to meet everyone?”

  Janie nodded excitedly. “I doubt I’ll remember everyone’s names, but I’ll try.”

  Eamon walked toward them. He spoke to Miriam. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Perhaps another time. This has all been so overwhelming.”

  “We’ll take good care of her. There’s no need to worry.”

  “She has her cell phone if she needs me. I’ll see you in Halifax in a month. I just hope she’ll still want to come home with me then.”

  “We won’t steal her away. Don’t worry.”

  Miriam nodded. She looked about to cry once again. “She has a home. And I want her to get an education. Don’t forget that, Eamon.”

  “I won’t. I respect your wishes, Morag. Forgive me if I call you that. I’ve whispered your name so many times in the dark. I always hoped you’d heard me.”

  Before Miriam could respond, Janie called out, running across the field. “Mom. Mom, they’re ready to go. Give me a big
hug and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  Miriam nodded and held Janie tightly. “I love you,” she whispered. Tears filled her eyes. “I love you . . . with all my heart and soul.”

  Janie extricated herself from Miriam’s arms. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”

  “Gus an coinnich sinn a-rithist. Till we meet again,” Eamon said, leaning down to kiss Miriam on the cheek. He looked into her eyes for a long moment then turned away to lead Janie to his van.

  “And you better help me learn more Gaelic when I come home,” Janie called out as she ran to the van that would carry her to Cape Breton.

  Lucky and Jack stood on either side of Miriam. Jack placed a protective arm around Miriam’s shoulders. Lucky knew it took every ounce of strength for Miriam to let Janie go, even if it was only for a brief time.

  The engines revved, and each vehicle pulled slowly out of the field, heading down the hill toward the highway. The three of them watched as the van Janie rode in passed by. Janie waved excitedly from the window. Miriam stood ramrod straight until everyone was gone.

  She turned to Lucky. “The hardest lesson. They’re not really yours—you only rent them for a little while.”

  Chapter 54

  THE AFTERNOON SUN filtered through the yellow café curtains. The Spoonful was ready for Halloween, thanks to Janie’s decorations and electric candles. It was too bad she couldn’t be here to see the fun. Miriam had stopped by to help out in Janie’s absence. Jack had found an old fireplace cauldron and filled it with dry ice that wafted around the front room. Lucky had plugged in a CD with “Monster Mash” and another one of scary Halloween sounds—creaking doors, shrieks and cackling witches.

  The evening before, after the travelers had gone, Lucky took Miriam back to Jack’s house where he cooked steaks in his old cast-iron frying pan. Lucky had carried logs in and built a roaring fire and poured wine for herself and Miriam. Jack grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and they ate their dinners in front of the hearth.

  She and Jack had decided Miriam shouldn’t be alone on the first night of Janie’s trip. Lucky couldn’t bear the thought that Miriam would return to an empty house, not after the anxiety she had suffered when Janie ran away and then was abducted. When the evening wound to a close, Lucky had driven Miriam home and then returned to her apartment.

  This evening, because of the promotional bowl of free soup from three to five, the restaurant was full. Many of the customers had brought their children along, now finished with school for the day and done up in costumes, some store-bought, some homemade. The adults were ready for trick-or-treating too, and several were in costumes themselves. Lucky looked around the restaurant and spotted Tommy Evans sitting by himself in a far corner, dressed in his everyday clothes, hidden behind Hank and Barry at their regular table. She grabbed a bowl of soup and placed it on a dish with a half sandwich and carried it over to Tommy. She nudged Barry as she went by. “This young man needs a real seat and a place to eat,” she said, indicating Tommy. “May he join you?”

  “Oh. Oh, of course,” Barry said, looking up from his game and peering around Hank. “Come over here young man, and have a seat.”

  Tommy looked up hopefully. Lucky was sure he was hungry and didn’t have money to buy anything.

  “Where’s Guy tonight?” she asked.

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He’s closing up the shop now.”

  Lucky smiled and pulled over a chair for Tommy. “That’s good. We’ll be doing the pumpkin contest pretty soon. Your entry stands a very good chance.”

  Tommy’s eyes widened, but his expression seemed to say he wasn’t hoping for very much.

  “Do you know how to play Connect Four, Tommy?” Hank asked.

  The boy smiled. “Sure. Can I play with you?”

  “Certainly can. Soon as you finish your soup and sandwich.”

  Lucky was sure Tommy was in good hands with the men. She returned to the counter. The restaurant was so noisy she could barely make out any conversations. Some of the older kids were singing along with “Monster Mash.” She glanced over at Jack at the cash register. He made a thumbs-up sign to her and smiled. Their Halloween promotion was a success.

  The pumpkin entries with their numbers were lined up on the long table against the wall. The secret ballots were folded pieces of paper placed in a covered bean jug by the cash register. Every customer at the Spoonful that week had had a chance to vote for his or her favorite. Lucky had been rather disappointed there hadn’t been more entries in the contest. Both Hank and Barry had donated their jack-o’-lanterns, as had Janie. Sage had carved one, and Sophie entered one that Lucky knew had been carved by Sage. There was Guy’s entry and Horace’s. Sage had given the fairy-tale pumpkin to Guy, and Guy had helped Tommy with the sharp knives, but Tommy had been adamant that his pumpkin had to be his design. Neither Marjorie nor Cecily had been interested in the contest. They were willing to vote but not willing to actually carve a pumpkin. There was Meg’s pumpkin and Jack had created one just to add to the mix. Remy had found some time after his ordeal in the cornfield to contribute his entry. In all there were eleven carved pumpkins. Since the prize, three free all-you-can-eat meals for two, was something that would only be helpful to a paying customer—Jack, Sophie, Sage, Janie, and Meg already ate for free—it boiled down to the fact that the real entrants were Hank, Barry, Remy, Horace, Guy and Tommy.

  Lucky had called all of them and explained Tommy’s situation. And to their credit they had all readily agreed they had no problem with the pumpkin-carving contest being rigged in Tommy’s favor. Sophie was in charge, and she planned to make a show of counting the votes and announcing Tommy as a winner.

  Lucky glanced at the clock. It was almost four. Time to announce the contest winner. She was about to call out to Sophie, who was in the kitchen helping Sage prepare dishes, when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned around. It was Cecily. She hadn’t seen her arrive.

  “Lucky, you’re a dear. Thank you for cheering me up the other day. You were right. I was making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  Lucky smiled ruefully. “We all do when feelings are involved.”

  “Well, it was totally silly of me. I mean, we’re talking about one dinner date. That’s nothing. And no one seems to be treating me like the fool I feel like. At least I hope they’re not laughing behind my back.”

  “I doubt that very much. First of all you’re well liked and well respected in town. And besides probably nobody even noticed you having dinner with Joe . . . I mean Devlin, up at the Lodge. No one who knows you anyway.”

  “You’re right. It’s made me realize how wonderful it would be to have that in my life. You probably can’t understand. You’re young. You don’t see the window of opportunity closing at your tender age.”

  Lucky felt a pang in her chest. Little did Cecily know how miserable she felt about Elias right now. She didn’t respond.

  Cecily squeezed her arm. “But, no matter what age you are, if love lands on your doorstep, don’t let it go.” Cecily smiled and moved away among the crowded tables.

  “Pssst,” Sophie hissed through the hatch. “What are you doing out there?”

  Lucky spotted Guy at the front door. She waved to him and pointed to where Tommy sat. She turned around. “Sorry. I’m losing track of time.”

  Sophie gave her a quizzical look. “It’s time for my star turn, Ms. Jamieson.” She laughed and disappeared. A moment later she pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen. She took a position near the cash register and the bean jug. Lucky turned down the volume on the CD player behind the counter so Sophie could be heard.

  Sophie picked up a spoon and banged it against a glass. “Everyone. It’s time. It’s time for the counting of the ballots.” The restaurant fell silent. “Jack here will make sure there’s no cheating.”

  Sophie lifted the lid of the bean jug and one by one opened the folded slips of paper. She whispered a name to Jack, and Jack slipped the ballots into a dra
wer under the cash register and made a note on a pad of paper. When they had finished, Jack passed the notepad to Sophie.

  Sophie looked at it carefully, a serious expression on her face. Lucky was admiring her acting skills. “Well, everyone did very well, actually. Hank, you received twelve votes. Barry, you received thirteen.” Lucky glanced over at the men. Barry jabbed Hank in the ribs in victory. Hank ignored him. Tommy still sat at their table, his expression intent. “Remy . . .” Sophie looked around the restaurant. “Remy’s not here, but he’s coming later. Remy got eleven votes. Guy . . .” She looked around the restaurant and finally spotted Guy Bessette. “You got fifteen votes. Horace Winthorpe . . .”

  “Here,” Horace called out, waving a hand.

  “Horace, you received the same number as Barry—thirteen. But . . .” Sophie took a dramatic pause. “None of you has received more votes than the winner.” Sophie raised her eyebrows and looked around the room.

  Lucky noticed Tommy, his brow furrowed, staring at the long table of jack-o’-lanterns. She was sure he was trying to remember how many votes had been announced and mentally counting the pumpkins.

  “The winner is . . .” Sophie spoke more loudly. “Tommy Evans! Tommy Evans received seventeen votes!” She began to clap, and everyone in the restaurant followed her lead. The teenagers cheered.

  Guy was grinning from ear to ear and winked at her. She smiled back.

  “Let’s get Tommy up here to collect his prize. Where are you, Tommy?” Sophie called out.

  “Here! I’m here!” Tommy raised his hand and scooted off his chair. He rushed to the cash register, a huge smile on his face.

  “You have won three all-you-can-eat meals for two at the Spoonful any time of your choosing.” Sophie looked over at Lucky. “Isn’t that right?”