The List

by Alice Ward

  “Like what?” she was truly interested.

  “You’ve got that nifty degree. Why don’t you go in and offer some consulting services and see if you can’t get some donations or grants for the place to make life a bit better?”

  She scoffed at me. “You mean like a new bench by the front door?”

  “Not really,” I said. “More like adding an arts and crafts wing or putting in a small theater where they could watch films. How about a gazebo where they could take tea in a garden with a few flowers?”

  “Worth! That’s a wonderful idea! I just thought of something. What if we could buy some of the land behind it, build a stable and keep a few older horses there? We could take the residents on carriage rides. How wonderful would that be? You know, animals are great therapeutic company.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I smiled at her. “There, you see? Now you have a challenge. I’m given to understand that you happen to like challenges.”

  “I’m with you, aren’t I?” she mocked me, her green eyes luminescent with the delight of her cause.

  “Auggie, about that…” I began.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” She twisted in her seat and looked out her side window.

  “What was I about to say?” I prompted her.

  “That we should just consider last night a good time and there’s nothing more to it than that.”

  I was dumbstruck by her assumption. Was that my reputation? A goodtime Charlie — love ‘em and leave ‘em? “Actually, Auggie, what I planned to say was that I’m going to consider you my girl, from here on. Would that be agreeable with you?”

  Her head swiveled toward me and her eyes were wide. “Like going steady?”

  I laughed inwardly at her old-fashioned phrase. “Yes, like going steady,” I agreed good-naturedly. “How does that sound to you?”

  “Do I get to wear your class ring?” she asked, smiling.

  I could tell this was not a joke with her, but a happy thought. I twisted my college ring off my finger and gave it to her. “I’d be honored,” I said solemnly and she grabbed it, sliding it on her thumb.

  “I’ll get a chain for it when I get home,” she said, nodding in approval.

  For some reason, everything in my world was so right at that moment. This was a foreign feeling.

  ***

  After dropping Auggie off, I headed toward my office. It was only now that I let myself consider the ramifications of Jervis’ Jezebel Langford. I knew the safest route for the time being was to keep my mouth shut. I doubted very much whether she would blow the whistle on herself and for now, what Auggie didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her.

  I finally arrived at the office, using the back door so I could shower quickly and put on some fresh clothing I had learned to keep there. I poked my head out the door and saw my waiting room held a patient.

  “Go in, please, and make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you,” I invited her as I made my way into the lobby and headed to Patsy’s desk.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked. “I was about to cancel your appointments for the day.”

  I ignored her question. “Mrs. Jessup…when is she due in next?”

  Patsy looked surprised. “Well, as a matter of fact, she’s coming in this afternoon. She’s your last patient for the day.”

  “Good. Call and confirm,” I ordered and left Patsy with a look of bewilderment on her pretty face. I normally didn’t give a damn about who was on my schedule and I knew the request to confirm would throw her. Oh, well…it’s time I became less predictable.

  While waiting for the last patient, Mrs. Jessup, I went out to confer with Patsy on the future patient load.

  Patsy was in a state of anxiety.

  “What’s up?” I asked, concerned by her behavior.

  “You’re overbooked.”

  “I’m what?” I wasn’t sure I understood why she was freaking out about that.

  “Word has gotten out that one of the most eligible bachelors in town is taking appointments and the phone has been ringing off the hook.” She was clearly overwhelmed and her normally flirting demeanor was becoming a bit bitchy.

  “So, this is a problem… why?” I was still trying to figure out the issue.

  “Because you don’t have enough appointments so I have to sift through and figure out which ones are legitimately crazy and let the ones who are just hot for you go somewhere else.” She was taking herself quite seriously, I could tell.

  “Patsy, it’s not your job to sort through the patients and decide who is more needy,” I pointed out.

  “Then do we do it on a first-call, first booked basis?” She truly was a novice.

  “Of course not, silly. First, we choose the wives that are the hottest looking. They’re here to be reassured of that and when they leave, they’ll tell the other wives about coming here. Then we book their husbands because that gives us something to hold over each one’s head. We leave the crazies for Jervis. He’s good with them.”

  She looked at me in amazement. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked in awe.

  “No… not at all. He really is good with them,” I said, leaving her with her mouth hanging open. I walked into my office and she sent the next patient in.

  From that point on, Patsy and I developed a system. I would take each patient in turn and when that one was done, I followed the woman out and gave Patsy a thumbs down rating if she was a dog. From that point on, that patient was told it would be at least three months before another appointment became available. It was a pure situation of skimming the cream off the top and pouring the sour milk in the direction of Jervis. Patsy finally caught on and things improved dramatically moving forward.

  ***

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jessup,” I said politely as I invited the bitch to perch her fat ass in my designer chair. She disgusted me, a drastic departure from the normal apathy I felt toward any of my patients.

  “Dr. LaViere. I was surprised when your secretary called to confirm. Actually, I’d forgotten we had an appointment this afternoon.”

  “I suspected as much,” I said to her raised eyebrows. “Now then.” I consulted her chart and my notes. “How is the situation between your husband and yourself progressing?” As if I cared.

  “David is having an affair. I know it for certain now.” She stopped a moment and drew out a tissue, dabbing at her overly made-up eyes. She was born theatrical. I knew she’d come from somewhere on the west coast and most of our set considered her trash.

  “And how do you know this?” I pushed her.

  “I found the key to his desk and in his bottom, right-hand drawer, I found a pair of women’s panties.” She poured out this last part with a fresh dab to her eyes as she thought about what she would say next. I nodded to her, encouraging her to go on. “I have no idea who it is, but she must be a cow because they were hardly dainty.”

  “Has he been acting strangely?” I asked.

  “David has always been a bit eccentric, so it’s difficult to tell, but lately he’s acting nervous, almost jumpy.”

  “Do you have a staff, Mrs. Jessup? Could he be interested in someone in your home?” I was headed somewhere, but she thought I was being conciliatory.

  “No, no. It’s just the two of us right now. We put his mother in a home, you know,” she said callously. She must have realized it because she hurriedly added, “She needed more care than either of us could provide, you see. She’s on dialysis.”

  I nodded, as though sympathetic.

  She continued, “We’ll be hiring staff soon.”

  I let go of the comment that obviously they could have hired someone to look after her mother-in-law at home. “Mrs. Jessup, perhaps you and your husband should come in and see me together for some couples counseling,” I suggested.

  “I don’t think it would help. David is… well, very private.”

  I’ll bet he is, I thought. “Mrs. Jessup, would you say that you and your husband have a healthy s
ex life?”

  I heard her intake of breath, just as I knew I would. She began to cry in earnest now. I was not moved.

  “We… that is… we don’t share a room. Haven’t for two years,” she finally sputtered.

  “Is this your preference or his?” I asked, driving in the knife.

  “Well, a woman can only be turned down so many times before she has to remove herself from the opportunity, doctor.”

  “Have you talked to him about this? Perhaps there’s something you can do to remedy the separation?” I asked. I knew I was pushing and it was working.

  “Yes! I ask him about it all the time!” She was crying openly now. I could literally see the guilt pouring out of her wretched mouth.

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said he just wasn’t attracted to me any longer.”

  “Did your husband say why?” I was going for her throat.

  “A woman my age can’t keep her girlish figure forever, you know. So what if I’ve put on a few pounds? He wouldn’t say that was it, but I knew. I’m so miserable, doctor,” she cried.

  “Yes, I can see that.” I observed her dramatics. “Were your husband and his mother close?” I pushed again.

  She looked up with a quizzical look on her face. “How did you know? Yes, yes they are. David didn’t want her to move, but she was too much to handle.” The tears had turned off immediately and the pretense had disappeared.

  “Would you like my advice, Mrs. Jessup?” I waited, letting the silence lengthen until she nodded. “Very well, and you may not entirely like it. It is my opinion that the only reason you’re here is due to your unhappy marriage. I believe, Mrs. Jessup, that you have the ability to set things right again. I believe Mr. Jessup is probably suffering from guilt for placing his mother in a home.”

  I held up a hand when it seemed she was about to interrupt.

  “This may have given him performance issues,” I went on. “Impotence is often a strong indication of guilt. I would suggest that your husband be allowed to minimize that guilt by doing something special for his mother to make up for the abandonment. He should look for opportunities to do that. As for you, perhaps you could feel better about yourself if you set up an appointment with a personal health and fitness assistant.”

  Her mouth opened. “Wha—?”

  I didn’t give her time to finish, just bulldozed over her. “They’re quite the rage now, among our set. My receptionist can give you the name of someone on your way out. I don’t believe we’re serving any further purpose here, Mrs. Jessup. Why not give the assistant a try? I believe that will resolve all your issues… completely.” I emphasized this last. I knew by including her in “our set” she felt the rush of snobbery it would take to agree to my plan. That was fine. Our set was hardly anything to brag about.

  The bitch agreed and stood up to leave. “Thank you so much, doctor,” she said, wiping her eyes one last time for effect. “You’ve saved my marriage,” she claimed and left my office.

  I scoffed at her pitiful exit. Her problems were simple: she was a bitch, she maneuvered her husband into taking the old lady’s money and then sent her to a pit, she was fat and over-pampered, and the one thing she could do nothing about was that her husband would never bed her. After all, she’d found his panties.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Auggie

  “I want to talk to you, Auggie,” it began again. I rolled my eyes.

  “Yes, Mother, what is it?”

  “You were out all night.”

  “I was? Huh… I had no idea.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.” Her voice was condescending and that always pushed my buttons.

  “Mother, I don’t think there’ll ever be any danger of my being smarter than you.” I pushed one of hers.

  “You cannot behave this way, Auggie. This simply isn’t done. What will people think?”

  “Well, Mother,” I sat down on the stool at the breakfast bar and took my time stirring my coffee, “no one will ever know unless you make it your business to tell them. Secondly, why don’t you tell me how it’s done so I’ll know for the future.”

  Her face went white. For some reason, this stopped her tirade dead in its track. I wondered if she had already told someone. I left the kitchen and passed my father on the way up to my room.

  “Bit fancy for the morning, don’t you think, Auggie?” He was referring to my dress from the date last night. His eyes sparkled, and I could see he was championing me as long as it was out of earshot from Mother.

  “Hello, Dad. Sleeping in?” I countered and he grinned. We both knew he enjoyed an hour or two of solitude after Mother rose each morning. I felt for him and the hell he must endure. “Dad? I’d like to talk about something with you. I’m going to hop into the shower and change and then grab a nap. Can we go for a ride, maybe about three?”

  “Of course.” He leaned to kiss me on the cheek. “See you out there.” He seemed pleasantly surprised and I knew that I was the only thing that stood between him and that hell.

  A few hours later, we were riding the trails. I was up on Carlos and Dad was riding Trigger, an older horse retired from events.

  “Did you have a good time last night, princess?” he asked in a genial voice.

  “He’s wonderful, Dad. He doesn’t care what people think and flaunts everything that has imprisoned me my whole life. I want to be more like him,” I gushed.

  “Be careful, princess. He comes from good family roots, but his father isn’t someone to cross. He’s a powerful man, a bit unprincipled from time to time but human enough. Take it slow and be sure you meet his family so you know what you’re getting into.”

  I loved the way Dad treated me. He didn’t tell me what to do, he just supplied me with hints of directions and let me discover the big picture on my own. That was called respect.

  I told Dad about the situation with Mrs. Jessup and the talk Worth and I had about it. “He thinks I could start a sort of foundation to benefit the residents there to add improvements to make their life better, you know? Maybe I could even get Mrs. Jessup a dialysis machine so she wouldn’t have to leave every other day for the clinic.”

  “Auggie, is this my daughter I’m speaking to?” his voice lilted with humor.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you worry about anything more than the next event or whether you had just the right dress in your wardrobe.”

  “Do you really think I’m that shallow, Dad?” I was disappointed.

  “I believe you’re proving me wrong as we speak,” he allowed and nodded in approval. “Anything I can do to help?”

  I reined Carlos to a stop and slid off, tying him to a tree. Dad followed suit. I went to sit beneath a tree, my hands playing with the leaves that had already fallen like a colorful skirt around its base. “I was hoping you’d do just that, Dad,” He knelt and began breaking fallen twigs, the sound punctuating the stillness that lay about us. I could tell he enjoyed the quiet. It was such a deviation from the shrill, anxious atmosphere in the house. “I will be looking to get donations, especially from the people you and Mother know. After all, they know Mrs. Jessup and would be more open to helping her out.”

  “Have you talked to your Mother about this?”

  “No, not yet. She would only discourage me.”

  He tossed a broken twig aside. “Good. For now, why don’t you keep this just between us?”

  “Is there a reason, Dad?”

  “No… no… would just be nice to have something only the two of us share.” I knew he really meant it would be nice not to need Mother’s approval for every footstep or dollar.

  “Deal. Thanks, Dad.” We sat there for some time, watching the afternoon slide toward the evening. It was growing cooler and getting dark earlier and the smells of autumn were beginning to waft in about sunset. This saddened me for it meant a break when I couldn’t ride Carlos.

  Dad understood this, and m
e. “Our winter project,” he commented before going back up on Trigger. “Coming?” he asked.

  “I’ll be along shortly,” I said, wanting a few minutes to think about Worth without my dad so close.

  I watched Dad ride down the trail and my cell rang. It was Worth.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Right now? I’m sitting in the woods and watching the sun set. Dad and I went for a ride and he just left. How about you?”

  “I’m in my car, headed home and can’t get you out of my head. Have you bewitched me?”

  I turned my face to the sky, warmed by his words. “Geez, this doesn’t sound like you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You sound all sappy, not your normally uncharismatic self,” I teased him.

  “Uncharismatic, am I? I believe there are a few ladies who might disagree with you on that count.”

  “I really don’t want to hear about them, you know,” I said sternly.

  “In the past. Listen, are you up for a movie or something?”

  I smiled to myself. “What sort of something?”

  His voice grew lower, deeper. “Whatever you’d like. I’m putty in your hands.”

  “You didn’t feel like putty,” I said slyly.

  “Listen to you! Where’s my sweet, innocent Auggie?”

  “This is goofy. I feel like I’m fifteen,” I giggled.

  “Hardly. Seriously, I’d like to talk to you about the idea we were throwing around this morning. I can come get you or we can meet.”

  I thought a moment. “I’m in my riding clothes and have to put Carlos away. Why don’t I meet you at the Chopstick on Hurstbourne in about an hour? You can buy me dinner since I haven’t eaten.”

  “I’ll see you there. I’ll be the guy with the goofy grin.”

  I hung up and felt goofy myself. Carlos got a hurried brush down and I jumped back into the shower before throwing on some jeans and a pale yellow, cropped sweater with seed pearls around the low neckline. Sure enough, Worth was waiting for me when I reached the Chopstick and I ordered beef and vegetables. He was very attentive and I realized how much I’d missed him during the day. “This is good,” I said. My reference had nothing to do with the food.