by Ann McMan
Chapter 17
Lizzy Mayes had done a more than credible job, holding down the fort at the clinic while Maddie was in Richmond and during her unexpected detour to Charlottesville. For two years now, Maddie had worked in Jericho with little more than an occasional weekend off. Now, with the addition of a licensed nurse practitioner to her staff, she was allowing herself to grow giddy at the prospect of actually being able to take a vacation.
On Monday after their last appointments, Lizzy brought Maddie up to speed about the long weekend while they relaxed over coffee in Maddie’s office.
“So Louise Halsey’s hip is a lot worse, and I completely agree with your suggestion that she’s a candidate for replacement surgery. She could barely walk when she came in here on Friday.” She smiled. “I told her that if she’d been a horse on my daddy’s farm, he’d have shot her by now.”
Maddie laughed. “Now there’s a novel approach. How’d she react?”
“It sure got her attention. I thought her husband was gonna drop his teeth into his spit cup.”
“Lizzy, if you can succeed in getting that woman to see a surgeon, I’ll . . .” She looked around the room in search of some kind of premium to offer up and settled on a small bronze trophy that sat on a shelf behind her desk. “I’ll give you this coveted award from last year’s Kiwanis 10K Fun-Run.” She held it out to her.
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Gee. Thanks.” She took the hideous statuette and turned it over in her hands. “Gosh. First place.” She looked up at Maddie with exaggerated wonder. “There’s a shocker.”
“Oh, shut up. It was hardly a competitive field—most of the other contestants were in wheelchairs.”
“I just bet.” Lizzy sat the trophy down on the desk. She leaned back in her chair and regarded Maddie quietly for a moment, tapping the side of her coffee mug in agitation.
“What is it?” Maddie asked.
“How . . . What do you know about Beau Pitzer?”
“What do you mean?” Maddie was curious. “In what sense?”
Lizzy shook her red head. “In any sense. He came by on Saturday morning while I was here by myself making notes on the patients we had seen on Friday. I let him in because he said he had hurt his hand working on his truck, but he really seemed fine. Well, fine is maybe a relative term.” She met Maddie’s eyes. “I don’t know—something about him just really creeps me out. I felt the same way last week when I met him for the first time at the library.”
Maddie narrowed her eyes in concern. “Did he do or say anything inappropriate?”
“Not exactly. It’s more just a feeling I have, you know?”
Maddie nodded.
“Phoebe seemed unnerved by the way he was behaving around Syd. I wondered if she had ever mentioned anything about that to you.”
Maddie raised her eyebrows. “Syd? No. She’s never mentioned anything to me about that. What did Phoebe say?”
Lizzy shrugged. “I dunno. Just that she was concerned about how he was looking at her. And she seemed to think that he was spending a lot of time hanging around the library.” She paused. “I don’t want to be unfair. There was just something unnerving about him.”
“I can understand that. He’s had some difficulties in the past.”
“Drugs?”
Maddie nodded. “Yes. I can’t say that I’m very happy about him showing up here on a Saturday like that—not when he knows the clinic is closed.” She was thoughtful. “Do you think I should talk with him?”
Lizzy looked surprised. “You’d do that?”
Maddie gazed unwavering at her. “In a heartbeat.”
Lizzy shook her head. “No—no, I think it’s okay for now. I just wanted to mention it to you—as much for Syd’s sake as my own. I thought you should be aware of it.”
It occurred to Maddie to wonder why Lizzy assumed that she had such a proprietary interest in Syd’s affairs, but she was too concerned about the content of her observations to worry about the style of her delivery. She resolved to check out the substance of Lizzy’s—and Phoebe’s—observations with Syd later that evening when she left the clinic.
ROMA JEAN SHOWED up to work in the afternoon and prepared Syd for an onslaught of after-school activity. Spring break was only a week away, and mid-term deadlines were looming at the high school. Starting at two-thirty, the tiny branch quickly filled up with teenagers, all hell-bent on completing their frenzied research for papers on topics that ranged from Shakespeare to climate change. One enterprising—and, by Syd’s definition, confused—patron, even had a thesis that sought to relate Shakespeare to climate change, and helping him run down credible sources for that project was not an enviable task.
The study tables in the library were filled with students, and Syd was grateful that her nemesis—the photocopier—was cooperating for once. The machine had been running more or less continuously since three o’clock. The mechanical sound of its scanning carriage rolling back and forth filled the air like a monotonous soundtrack, playing at a steady, low-volume behind the chatter and laughter that filled the facility.
By six, activity slowed to a crawl as the teens left to head for home or other evening commitments. Syd headed to the circulation desk to relieve Roma Jean, who needed to leave to meet Jessie and some other band friends for dinner at Pizza Hut. She heard the branch phone ring, and Roma Jean’s programmed “Jericho Public Library” response. Then she heard a thud and the sound of books toppling to the floor.
Syd rounded the corner in concern and saw Roma Jean on her knees, hastily trying to stack a scattered pile of returned books and brandishing the telephone receiver like a hot poker.
She blushed when she saw Syd and meekly held the phone up toward her. “I dropped it. I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyes. “It’s for you.” She stood up and hastily set the stack of books down on top of the desk and ducked past Syd as she handed her the phone. “Bye, Miss Murphy. See you on Wednesday.”
Shaking her head, Syd lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello. This is Syd.”
“Well, hey there.” It was Maddie. “You know, it occurs to me that someone could make a fortune studying the peculiar gravitational characteristics of our public library.”
Syd smiled. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that things always seem to be falling around there.”
“Uh huh. I could point out that this phenomenon only seems to occur when you’re around. So I think you’d make a better research subject.”
Maddie laughed. “Nobody would pay good money to study my sorry ass.”
“Is this why you called me?” Syd asked, sweetly. “To engage in a lively debate about the merits of your ass?”
“Hmmm. No. But hearing your thoughts on the subject would provide me with a certain amount of vicarious enjoyment.”
“I’m sorry. If you want me to talk dirty to you, you’ll have to call back after six-thirty. The library is still open right now, and I can’t tie up this line.”
Maddie sighed. “So close, and yet so far away.”
Syd laughed. “You are such a nut job. What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. I suddenly realized that I had gone almost an entire day without talking to you.” She paused. “I didn’t like it.”
“I know what you mean. It’s hard to get back into this daily grind. You’d think we had been away a lot longer than three days.”
“You got that right.”
Syd could hear wind noise in the background. “Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“Oh.” She suddenly felt disappointed. “On your way home?”
“Noooooooo . . . on my way to Wytheville to pick up some MRI results at the hospital. I thought I’d grab dinner over there, and wondered if you’d like to join me? And I completely understand if you feel that you need an evening by yourself.”
“Think I’m tired of you?”
“Well, let’s just say I didn’t want to make any assumptions.”
“Hmmm.” She glanced
at her watch. “I suppose I could endure your company for another evening. Do you want to pick me up here? I’ll be closing up in about ten minutes.”
“Works for me. See you in ten minutes.” Maddie hung up, and Syd smiled to herself as she began to prepare the library for closing.
AN HOUR LATER, they were seated in a booth at McGinty’s Pub, sipping on Pellegrino and talking about their first days back at work. Syd noted with irony that they were seated in the same booth she had shared with Jeff during their ill-fated conversation several months ago. She was relieved to see that their plucky server, Randi, was nowhere in sight.
Maddie relaxed against the padded backrest and stretched her long legs out beneath the table. “If I kick you, just let me know, and I’ll move my legs.”
Syd raised her eyebrow. “No way. You kick me, and I’ll kick you back.”
Maddie pretended to pout. “That’s not very sporting.”
“Well, neither is kicking me.”
“You do understand that I wouldn’t be doing this on purpose?”
“Uh huh.” Syd looked under the table to gaze at Maddie’s long legs extended diagonally across the cramped space. She was instantly reminded of Saturday night, and the cab ride after their emotionally-charged dinner with Celine. She quickly sat back up and looked into Maddie’s amused blue eyes, trying hard not to blush. Maddie’s legs were becoming too much of a leitmotif to suit her. In fact, it wasn’t just her legs. Maddie’s sheer physicality was becoming too much of a distraction—especially after the events of the weekend. As they continued to stare at each other, she wondered whether Maddie shared any of her consternation about the confusing turns their relationship had taken. She knew that she didn’t yet feel confident enough to ask.
“Something on your mind?” Maddie asked in a low voice.
Syd shrugged. “Not really. Why do you ask?”
“I dunno. You seem distracted. Edgy, even.”
“Edgy?”
“A little. Yeah.”
Syd looked around the restaurant. It was surprisingly busy for a Monday night. She could see that several of the bar TV sets were tuned to the same basketball game. The NCAA Tournament was in full swing, and Virginia Tech had managed to stay alive through the first two rounds. Syd was fairly certain that, wherever he was, her brother was staked out in front of a TV. She looked back at Maddie, who was regarding her with a curious expression.
“Are you really a basketball fan?”
Maddie didn’t seem surprised by the irrelevant question. She glanced at the bank of TVs that hung at various angles around the bar area. “Sometimes. I don’t get to watch many of the games, though. And Stanford is really better known for the strength of its women’s basketball program.”
“I forgot about that.” She smiled. “I bet you have to keep a low profile whenever they play Carolina or Tennessee.”
Maddie laughed. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. I usually have to hide my diploma during March Madness.”
Maddie’s casual use of the endearment caused a thrill to race across Syd’s body, and she was annoyed by the involuntary response. Maddie was just being relaxed and friendly, and Syd was overreacting to everything. She knew that the only difference between her behavior and Roma Jean’s was the fact that she hadn’t knocked anything over—yet.
She resolved to make another attempt at safe conversation.
“So, was your first day back at work as busy as mine was?”
Maddie shook her head. “Surprisingly, no. Lizzy managed everything without incident. I don’t think they missed me at all.”
“Well, I doubt that’s the case.” She smiled. “But it is good news that you can be confident about Lizzy’s ability to manage things while you’re away. Maybe that means you might actually be able to take some time off now and then.”
Maddie lifted her glass of Pellegrino. “A-men to that, sister.”
Their server arrived to deposit the two large chicken salad platters they’d ordered. Each was garnished with fresh fruit and a spiced muffin. Syd dug into hers.
“Did you miss lunch?” Maddie asked with amusement.
“Um hmmm.” Syd swallowed. “It’s term paper time. I pretty much went full-tilt boogie all afternoon.”
“Lots of patrons?” Maddie asked, picking up her fork.
“Yeah, the place was crawling with them. I wouldn’t have been able to manage without Roma Jean.”
“Beau Pitzer around?”
Syd broke off a bite-sized piece of her muffin. “Beau? Yeah, he was there this morning to look over the online job postings. Why do you ask?”
“Lizzy said something about him that concerned me.” Maddie sounded a bit guarded. “Something about how much he was hanging around the library. She said that Phoebe had noticed it. And then Beau showed up at the clinic on Saturday morning while it was closed, and Lizzy was there alone. She found his demeanor to be pretty . . . creepy.”
Syd set her fork down. “Wait a minute. Lizzy and Phoebe were discussing how much Beau was coming into the library?”
Maddie nodded.
Syd was bothered by the admission, and had difficulty disguising it. “I don’t see why they’d have any particular concerns about that. It’s a public place. He has a right to be there.” She slowly shook her head. “I’m not sure how much I like hearing that I’m a topic of conversation in this way.”
Maddie leaned forward. “Hold on. It’s not like that at all.”
Syd crossed her arms. “It isn’t? Okay, then tell me what it is like.”
Maddie seemed confused by her agitation. “Look, I don’t see why you’re so bent out of shape about this. Beau is a known-quantity and, like it or not, he’s got a less-than-admirable track record around here. It’s reasonable for them to be concerned about you.”
“I’m not a novice at this. Give me some credit. Maybe you all need to remember the meaning of the ‘public’ part of public library. I don’t get to pick and choose who gets to use our services, and I sure won’t deny access to someone just because your new Florence Nightingale thinks he’s creepy.”
Maddie sat back and held out a hand, palm first. “Okay. Let’s dial this back a little bit.” She waited until Syd assumed a less defensive posture. “I’m tempted to ask you why you’re so angry, but I don’t think I will. Not right now, anyway.” She hesitated a moment before continuing and seemed to choose her words carefully. “I never meant to offend you, and I certainly never meant to suggest that you wouldn’t have the sense or the wherewithal to manage Beau if his behavior ever did become a problem. Lizzy felt that his behavior toward her was vaguely threatening on Saturday. Based on what Phoebe shared with her previously, she was worried about you. That was it.”
Syd chewed the inside of her cheek. “So why didn’t Lizzy just talk with me herself? Why did she tell you?”
Maddie shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that. I have to admit that I asked myself the same question.” She met Syd’s eyes. “Is that what you’re angry about? The fact that she talked to me about this, instead of you?”
Syd felt her face grow hot. She knew it would be pointless to try to deny the truth—her blush would give her away. She lowered her eyes and stared at the tabletop. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Why does that offend you?” Maddie asked in a soft voice.
Syd shook her head. “Because I’m not a child. Jeff was exactly the same way—always trying to legislate everything for me—never trusting me to make my own determinations about anything.” She looked up and met Maddie’s eyes. “I’m not a piece of property, and I don’t need to be protected or taken care of.”
Maddie seemed to bite back her initial response and sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, she gave Syd a small smile. “Okay. I’ll try to unhitch the steamroller that’s tethered to my ass.”
Syd was unable to suppress a laugh at that, and she felt some of the tension leave her body. “So, we’re back to discussing your ass?”
Maddie made an elaborate s
how of twisting around to try and examine her derriere. “So it seems.” She sighed dramatically and sat back up. “One way or another, things always come back to my butt. It’s a curse.”
“I don’t know about that.” Syd gave her an appraising look. “There are worse places to end up.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Oh, that remark deserves a drum roll and cymbals.”
Syd picked up her fork and speared a cherry tomato. “So does your butt.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”
“Didn’t we just establish that you don’t always know better?” Syd popped the tomato into her mouth.
Maddie looked a bit shell-shocked. “Did I miss a few lines of dialogue here?”
“Having some trouble keeping up?”
“Apparently.” She sat back and stared at Syd in amazement. “You go from zero, to pissed-off to whatever this is in, like, ten seconds.” She slowly shook her head. “What are we talking about, exactly?”
Syd relented as she met Maddie’s confused blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just toying with you—probably trying to get even.” She reached across the table and rested her hand on Maddie’s. “I didn’t really mean anything by it. I’m just being a brat.” She squeezed her hand. “Forgive me?”
Maddie sighed. “You were just kidding?”
Syd nodded.
Maddie held her gaze. “Bummer.”
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Syd belatedly withdrew her hand.
“So.” Maddie cleared her throat. “You’re not mad any more?”
“Nuh uh.”
“Good. So I can ask you something?”
“What is it?” Syd eyed her with suspicion.
“Florence Nightingale?”
Embarrassed, Syd raised a hand to her forehead.
Maddie chuckled. “Where in the hell did that come from?”
“God, I’m sorry.” Syd lowered her hand. “I guess I was jealous.”
Maddie looked surprised. “Of Lizzy?”
Syd shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Why on earth would you be jealous of Lizzy?”
Syd waved her hand in frustration. “Maybe because you seemed to value her perspective more than mine? I don’t know . . . it’s not rational. I can’t explain it in a way that will make sense to either of us.”