by C. C. Coburn
“Missy was born right there in that house of yours, way back in 1916,” Frank said, breaking into her thoughts.
“I’d heard that,” Grace said. “But I don’t have any photographs of her growing up there. I asked her about it once and she said they were all burned.”
“That’s a darned shame,” Mayor Farquar said, “because they’d make a wonderful contribution to the town’s archives. We now have a heritage museum on Main Street in the old Methodist church Jack and his brother Will own. They let us use it rent-free.”
“Not only am I clueless about my great-aunt Missy, but I don’t know much about the properties Jack owns, either,” Grace said.
“You gonna marry that boy?”
Stunned by his candor, Grace took a moment to answer. “No.”
He shook his head. “That boy needs a wife. Someone who’s his equal. Unless you don’t think he’s your equal, you bein’ a big-city doctor an’ all.”
“No, of course I don’t feel I’m better than Jack! Whatever gave you that idea?” Grace leaned back to make room for their plates. She felt sick looking at Frank’s, piled with grease.
“Mayor Farquar—”
“Call me Frank, honey,” he said, picking up his fork and digging into his fries.
“Frank, then. I need to be frank with you, Frank.”
The older man looked up at her and grinned. “If I had a dollar for every time someone’s said that, and then not been so frank, I’d be a millionaire.”
From what Grace had heard, Frank Farquar was a millionaire. Several times over, thanks to rocks.
“Okay, then I’ll be more than frank, Frank,” she said with a smile to lessen what she had to say next. “As a doctor, I’m going to be brutally honest. You are a heart attack waiting to happen. You’re overweight, you’re wheezing just sitting down and now you’re stuffing your face with pure grease.”
Frank halted, the fatty burger halfway to his mouth, and put it back on his plate. His eyes narrowed. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds. Grace had dealt with overweight children, but they were overweight because the parents couldn’t say no to their little darlings and let them eat what they wanted. Especially candy. She’d practiced tough love on both the parents and the children, but Frank was much older, a person of standing in his community. He probably wasn’t used to being spoken to in such harsh terms. An alarming thought crossed Grace’s mind. Maybe, by speaking out, she’d sabotaged the medical center. What would she say to Lucy?
Frank finally responded. “Is that so, little lady?”
Grace swallowed, compelled to tell him the truth. “I’m afraid it is. I’m very concerned that if you continue eating this sort of food and not exercise, one day you’re going to wake up dead! And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”
“I see,” he said, eyeing the chicken in Grace’s salad. “You’re sounding like my wife. She’s a real nag.”
“Has it done any good?”
“’Course not! She’s not a doctor. What would she know?”
So much for thinking Frank was a liberated man.
“She feeds me cardboard for breakfast and nothing tasty for dinner. I’m dying of food boredom!”
“Better that than of coronary artery disease,” Grace snapped back, not in the least intimidated by his lamentations about his wife. “By cardboard, I assume you mean granola?”
Frank nodded.
“Unsweetened?”
“Yup.”
“Do you have coffee for breakfast, as well?”
“Two cups. She won’t let me have sugar or cream. She’s thrown them out of the house.”
“Good!”
“So I have extra when I get to the office.”
Grace’s shoulders slumped. “That’s not how it works, Frank.”
The poor man was still eyeing her chicken. Grace pushed her plate between them—the cruelest, unhealthiest thing to do to people trying to lose weight was to deprive them completely of food. “You may share my salad, Frank. And you and I are going to have a nice, long talk about your health, okay?”
She signaled the waiter to come and remove Frank’s lunch. And the remainder of his beer. She then ordered a glass of water for him, since he didn’t already have one.
Grace had never seen anyone look so dejected. “I’m sorry, Frank, but this is for your own good. What would Louella do without you?”
“My wife would have her turned into bacon.”
Grace doubted that, but she knew Louella and Mrs. C. were not friends. “Then it’s up to you to make sure that doesn’t happen!” Grace leaned over the table, closer to Frank. “Are you willing to work with me on this?” she asked.
“Will I be hungry?”
“Not if I can help it. But you also won’t be eating any artery-clogging crap, okay?”
Frank looked at her in a way that made Grace fear he’d refuse her advice. Finally, he nodded.
“Good!” she said. “First thing after lunch, I’m going to run a few tests on you.”
“How you gonna do that?” he asked, smirking as if he had an excuse to delay the inevitable.
“I’m sure Lucy Cochrane would let me use her equipment at the maternity clinic.”
“The maternity clinic! I’m not going there. It’s full of pregnant women!”
Grace was unmoved. “No kidding. And most of them weigh far less than you do. So suck it up.”
Frank had not only polished off the chicken in her salad, but also the lettuce and anchovies—Grace loved anchovies and now she was miffed she hadn’t snaffled them for herself before deciding to share. She signaled for the check.
“What about dessert?” Frank asked, adding, “And I haven’t told you all the stories about your aunt yet.”
Grace knew he was stalling for time, stalling so she’d have to order more to eat for him, so she waved her hand, saying, “Your aunt Missy stories can wait for another day, we have more important things to tend to right now, like your health. Since they don’t serve fruit salad here, we don’t need dessert.” She passed her credit card to the waiter. She got up and went to sign her credit card slip at the checkout counter, then turned and crooked her index finger at the mayor. “Come on, Frank. The rest of your life starts today.”
* * *
GRACE CALLED LUCY and asked if she could use her facility to run a few tests. Lucy, of course, agreed, and on discovering Grace’s patient was Frank, who didn’t want to be seen surrounded by pregnant women, told Grace where to find the rear entrance.
Outside Rusty’s, Frank opened the door of his enormous Cadillac for Grace. Once they were both inside, she said, “Frank, please don’t tell me you drove your car all of two blocks from the town hall to Rusty’s?”
His Caddy roared to life—more life than Grace feared Frank had left in him.
“’Course, I drive her everywhere. People need to know who’s the boss around here. This old girl is a mark of the respect I’m given as mayor.”
“Which you won’t get if you’re dead.”
Frank had just pulled out onto Main Street. He slammed on his brakes, but fortunately there wasn’t any other traffic.
“Now, look here, little lady. You gotta stop talkin’ about me dyin’, okay?”
“No, it isn’t okay. If you have anywhere to go in town from now on, you’re to walk. Got it?”
Frank’s lips tightened and he pressed the accelerator, not taking his foot off it until they drove into the hospital’s parking lot.
* * *
FRANK’S TEST RESULTS were worse than she’d expected. He was a hairsbreadth from a heart attack. She wanted to admit him right away, but true to form, Frank had resisted.
As they drove back to Spruce Lake, Grace called Mrs. C., asking her to close the shop and meet her and Frank in Grace’s apartment. Neutral ground was best for news like this. She and Mrs. C. were going to stage an intervention. When they pulled into the parking lot, Jack was there with Millie.
Grace’s dog just about twisted
herself inside out with excitement to see her new owner. Grace felt much the same way about Millie. Already the dog had made a difference in her life. She’d given her a purpose—one she hadn’t felt strongly in her busy Boston practice in too many months.
After effusive greetings between human and dog, Jack asked with concern, “What’s up? I stopped by to find out how your meeting went when Mrs. C. got your call. Anything I can do? She’s a bit of a mess. She knows you took him to the maternity clinic in Silver Springs. He isn’t pregnant, is he?” he asked, and winked.
They both turned to look at Frank as he got out of his car—not without some difficulty. He had such a huge potbelly, he resembled a pregnant woman—one carrying octuplets.
Grace smiled, appreciating the attempt at levity. “No, I wish it was as simple as that. I need to talk to him and Mrs. C. Would you mind taking Millie for a while? I don’t want an overexcited dog in the way.”
Jack took Millie’s leash. “Sure.”
Grace glanced at the steps leading to her apartment and decided Frank probably wouldn’t make it up them. But before she could stop him, Frank started up the stairs. He got about halfway, then halted, catching his breath. Mrs. C., who had been waiting by Grace’s door, raced down to him. “Frank! What’s the matter, you idiot?” she almost shrieked.
Grace turned to Jack. “Would you mind not taking Millie too far? I might need your help either to keep her from killing him or him from killing himself.”
Jack leaned in and kissed Grace’s cheek. The warmth of his lips, the touch of his hand as it cupped the back of her head, were just what she needed right now. “Call me and I’ll be here in a nanosecond, okay?” he said.
Grace nodded, said, “Thanks,” and began to mount the stairs to her apartment.
Frank was panting heavily, and Grace was having severe misgivings about the wisdom of making him climb those steps.
* * *
THANKFULLY, DURING THE drive from the hospital to Spruce Lake, Frank’s usual ornery attitude seemed to have mellowed. Grace explained the tests she’d done, and Mrs. C.—who’d insisted she call her Edna—had tried saying, “I told you so!” more than once, but Grace had shushed her. The older woman had to understand that now wasn’t the time for recriminations.
When she’d finished explaining how Frank’s lifestyle had to change and change drastically, Edna had said, “Will you be Frank’s doctor, Grace? I trust you. That old fool Jenkins has been pumping him full of prescription drugs for his heart, his liver, everything! And Frank thinks because he’s got the drugs he can do whatever he wants.”
Grace told them that, too often, people resorted to drugs, believing them to be the cure-all, a green light to continue destructive habits. Frank looked suitably chastened, if not terrified. Whether it was of his wife or his prognosis, Grace wasn’t sure, but it was about time Frank took stock of his health and did something about it.
“I’m not a heart specialist,” she said.
“I...I thought you knew what to do to help him,” Edna said.
“I do. But I’d also like him to consult a cardiologist. In fact, if I can make an emergency appointment, I’d like him to see one in Denver tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow! It’s that bad?”
“The results aren’t good. He needs to see a specialist.”
Guessing that much of the alarm in Edna’s expression was about entrusting her husband’s health to a stranger, she said, “I’d be more than happy to look after Frank under the guidance of the cardiologist while I’m in Spruce Lake. Would that be all right?”
“Yes! Yes, please!” Edna grasped Grace’s hand. “You’re a godsend. I’ve been at my husband for ages. I put him on a diet, but I suspect he doesn’t eat his salads and sneaks into Rusty’s instead.”
Grace smiled and stood. “I’ll call some colleagues of mine in Boston and see if they can arrange anything with their colleagues in Denver. It might take a few hours. Why don’t I stop by your place as soon as I have news?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much, Grace!” Edna said.
Frank had got to his feet with difficulty and stood there wheezing. “Thanks, Doc,” he said, and shuffled to the door. The poor man seemed to have aged ten years in the past hour or so. Grace felt guilty about it, but that was what she had to do to save his life—tell him the plain truth.
He turned to her at the door. “What am I allowed to have for dinner tonight?”
“Grilled chicken breast, no skin. As much salad as you like with lemon juice for dressing. No dessert except a piece of fruit.”
Frank looked totally miserable, while Edna looked triumphant that a doctor was now telling her husband what he could and couldn’t eat.
“And don’t drive your car home, Frank. You can manage the block from here to there, okay? Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to take a leisurely walk, the first of many.”
Jack, waiting outside with Millie, bounded up the stairs and placed a hand under Frank’s arm. Frank shrugged him off. “I ain’t dead yet, boy!” he said, and took another step down.
“No one said you were, Frank, but I was taught to respect my elders, and since you’re old and ornery, I’ll help you down these stairs.”
“Cheeky young whippersnapper,” Grace heard Frank mumble as he allowed Jack to help him.
Grace leaned against her doorjamb, her arms crossed as she watched Edna and Frank cross the lot and walk down the back lane to their own house a block away.
Millie hobbled up the stairs, licked Grace’s leg and wandered into the apartment. Jack followed her and stopped in front of Grace.
“Bad day?” he asked.
“Really bad. Hold me?”
They wrapped their arms around each other, Grace nestling her head against his strong chest and just breathing him in. Being with Jack was like being in a kind of sanctuary....
“Want to talk about it?”
Reluctantly Grace let him go and they went into her apartment. She collapsed on the sofa beside Millie, who placed her nose on Grace’s thigh, turning her sweet brown eyes up to Grace as if to say, “We’ve got each other, so everything will be fine now.”
Grace hugged her dog, and then her shoulders began to tremble as she held back tears. Jack sat beside her, put his arm around her and said, “What’s wrong? What can I do?”
“Everything’s wrong! Frank is really ill and I’m worried I did the wrong thing by not admitting him to the hospital today. I should’ve called a cardiologist then and there instead of bringing him home!”
“So call a cardiologist now. Weren’t you planning to do that, anyway? Set your mind at ease.”
Grace looked up at him. “Thank you for being here—and being the voice of reason.”
She got out her cell phone and called a cardiologist she knew in Boston. She told him about Frank’s age and his test results.
Dr. Giles said, “Relax, Grace. You did the right thing. I doubt the patient would have allowed you to admit him, by the sound of it. Let me make a few inquiries. I’ll have one of the best cardiologists in Denver call you, okay?”
Grace released a pent-up breath as she ended the conversation. “Thank God.” She leaned her head against Jack.
“Feel like taking a walk to clear your head?” he asked. “I’d like to hear how the meeting went with the town today.”
* * *
THE EVENING WALK ended up being just what Grace needed. She loved Jack’s company and enjoyed walking as Millie met other dogs. During the walk, a cardiologist from Denver called and offered to squeeze Frank in the following day. She thanked him profusely and they changed direction toward Frank’s house.
They were greeted on the front porch by his pet pig, Louella, who ignored Jack in favor of Grace and Millie. Satisfied that they weren’t a threat to her esteemed position in Frank’s life, she snorted and allowed them to pass.
Edna met them at the door. “Grace! Jack! Nice to see you both again so soon. Come in, please. Frank and I are just fin
ishing dinner.”
She showed them into the kitchen of their restored Victorian. Frank was sitting at the dinner table eyeing a sliced apple. He looked miserable. Grace guessed he would prefer brownies. Sitting next to him, she said, “I hope you liked your dinner, Frank. How are you feeling?”
“Hungry,” he growled. “And now I get this for dessert!”
Grace stole one of the apple wedges and offered him another. He took it suspiciously.
“It won’t bite,” she assured him, and ate her own slice.
“Hey!” he said. “That’s mine!”
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll eat some more.”
That motivated Frank to stop sulking and start eating.
“A cardiologist in Denver has cleared time in his schedule to see you tomorrow afternoon,” she told the older couple. “I accepted the appointment on your behalf. I assume that’s fine with you?”
“Thank you!” Edna cried. Frank was too busy chewing his apple to do anything other than nod.
“I don’t have a car—otherwise, I’d drive you down myself,” she said. “However, I’d like to attend the appointment, if you don’t mind?”
“You’d do all that? For us? Now that’s what I call being a real doctor!” Edna said. “But aren’t there things you have to do here, Grace? Frank told me about the plans for the medical center. How exciting! I’m sure Missy would’ve loved to see her old home used in that way.”
“I have a lot of paperwork to complete,” Grace said. “But seeing Frank properly assessed and starting a course of treatment is more important right now.”
Frank swallowed the last of his apple and said, “I can help you with the forms, little lady. And I do appreciate all your efforts today. My wife gave me quite a talking-to tonight.” He placed his hand over Edna’s.
“Old fool!” Edna muttered affectionately.
Grace and Jack exchanged smiles. Grace had been worried about Frank’s agreeing to treatment, especially curtailing his diet or increasing his exercise, but she had a feeling that with her and Edna on his case, he had a chance.
Everyone agreed that Grace would meet them at the house at eleven the next morning to drive to Denver, and Jack and Grace waved goodbye, Millie pulling at her leash.