Finding Him at Home (Holliday Book 1)

by Sarah R. Silas

  Doc Mulreedy peered over his glasses at Garrison and then motioned to Lilith to step outside. "He's just shy," remarked Doc Mulreedy. "I'll come and find you."

  Lilith nodded and opened the door.

  "Actually, Doctor Holliday, would you mind finding my ruler for me? I think I'm going to need it," said Doc Mulreedy as she stepped outside into the hallway.

  "That's not funny," she heard Garrison snap as she closed the door and walked into the waiting room.

  She had been going to Doc Mulreedy since she was a kid. Her father had believed that any doctor that was good enough for him would be good enough for her and her mother. Regardless of specialization or anything, Saul believed that doctors were doctors and that was that. After all these years nothing had changed, the same pictures on the walls and the same car magazines from the '80s lying on the crude coffee table made out of sawhorses. It was unclear to her whether Doc Mulreedy was eclectic or just didn't care about anything at all.

  During the lean years on the ranch, her father often had to pay Doc Mulreedy late and usually everything was copacetic. Maybe the Doc just cared about the important things. He was incredibly patient and caring, revealing that below his gruff exterior all he really loved was helping people.

  Lilith glanced over the schedule for the day and found that Garrison was the last one in today. Her fingers scrolled through the appointments realizing that Doc Mulreedy had started his day at three in the morning, taking his first patient at a quarter past three. It was dedication, she thought, that made sure he was available at whatever time was open for his patients. Or, she realized, he probably charged more for those visits.

  Garrison brushed past her and turned around as he opened the door. "I have a wife ya know and she would get a weird if I told her that a lady saw my junk," he remarked.

  "I'm also a doctor. Lady doctor, actually," she replied.

  "I dunno if that's any better. I don't think she's jealous, exactly. But she's protective," he said, smiling. He gave a small wave and walked out.

  Doc Mulreedy stalked through the office, banging his hand against the walls as he went. "You got a sec?" he asked.

  "Sure, I didn't know you were gonna be done this early."

  "Yeah, I started the day earlier than usual. Had some ranch hands and a long haul driver that needed some stuff looked after," he muttered. He snapped his fingers. "And! There was this little girl, who used to come into my office and tell me that she wanted to be a doctor just like me."

  "That was this morning?" she asked.

  "This morning, and mornings for a long time," he replied. He stood peering over his glasses at her in his usual way. He popped the pack of cigarettes out of his white doctor's coat and lit another. The smoke curled up and she could almost see it seeping into the walls. Whoever had this office next, she thought, it was going to be hard to get that smell.

  "So what's up?" she asked. "I think I might swing through town if we're all done here."

  "Well, I dunno what your plans are. But I thought I'd tell you this, before ya know, before you find out due to some untimely accident."

  "Untimely accident?"

  "Death is always untimely. Unpredictable except suicides," he replied. "Ya know, I don't have any kids. My wife died years back. Just me fettering away my time up here in the middle of nothing and nowhere." He took a long drag. "And I had to figure out what to do with my estate and whatnot."

  "Nah Doc, you ain't dying yet!"

  "Might as well. These things'll kill ya," he said waving his cigarette at her, dropping ash all over the floor. "I put you as the inheritor of my estate as well as this practice. If you want any of it."

  "Wait, what?"

  "A little girl came in here and sat and watched me work more often than when she was actually sick. And ya know, you're probably the closest I'll ever have to a daughter."

  She laughed. "I'll be sure to tell my father that I'm so glad I grew up with two fathers. Alternative family."

  "Yeah, he'll get a kick out of that." He paused, lit another cigarette, throwing the old one into yet another bedpan in the hallway. "So what do you say?"

  She looked at him for a moment before responding, rocking back and forth on her heels. It was unexpected but she didn't know if it was unwanted. She would be able to settle in back at home, take over the practice, maybe help her father find someone to take care of the ranch, and have a career.

  But did she want it here? In the mountains away from, well, anything?

  "I want to say yes, but I don't know yet. I came back to figure shit out, and this would be a great opportunity, but I just don't know what I really want," she replied. She wondered if giving the same answers over and over again was going to get dull. Maybe, she thought, she would have to figure out a proper answer soon. Maybe she needed to accept what was in front of her.

  "That's not a no, so that's at least something," he said sighing. "Just think about it. I ain't dead yet."

  "Alright." She gave the old man a hug, rubbing his bald head and breathing in the tobacco smell of his clothes. "I love you Doc," she said, tearing up.

  "Yeah, little girl, I love you too," he said.

  #

  She had driven through town thinking about what Doc Mulreedy had said, the grand offer he had made her. It was a good offer, something that anyone in her position would snatch up, but there was a whole wide world out there she hadn't seen yet, that she hadn't lived in yet, that she wanted to breathe. Visiting a place just isn't the same as living in it.

  She shifted her truck into higher gear, flying down the highway, the windows open, wind ripping through her hair. The engine ran smoothly, the gears shifted easily, and the road was open. She could go anywhere she wanted, she didn't need to stay here. The world was hers and she felt that her father just might actually support her want to see and do everything.

  She could also just do it alone, she thought. She could get a plane ticket right now out of Billings and be in Beijing, Rio, London, Paris, even Oslo in less than a day. But what would she do there? Get her medical certificate transferred?

  She stared at the exit coming up for home and stepped on the gas, trying to breath easily until she passed it. She didn't know! She wouldn't know until she did something, until she finally overcame whatever blockage she had.

  The sign whizzed past her and she blinked. It was another 10 miles to the next exit, but she knew she was going to take it and head back home. Heading off into the world was a good idea, but she didn't think about her career for years, she hadn't planned her life meticulously to be rash now. Not now, not when she could afford to spend a little more time thinking and planning for it. Would it help? She didn't know the answer to that, but she knew how to plan, so she was going to do that.

  The ten miles passed in silent thought. She rolled up the windows, calmed her hair down, patting the loose strands until they somewhat resembled a non crazy person. The next exit came up and she took it, slowing down until she came to the stop sign. She took a left and drove for home. Doc Mulreedy wasn't dead yet, she had time to think and figure things out.

  She needed a drink and if she knew there was a roadhouse coming up before a fork in the road. That fork would eventually lead her home, but not yet. She saw the roadhouse's neon sign and turned in the parking lot.

  A line of motorcycles stood in front of the bar and she instantly recognized the beat-to-shit black hog that stood in the middle of the pack, its front light still busted after all these years. She slowed down in front of it and let herself remember the last time she had been on that motorcycle. No, when was the first time?

  She chuckled as she tried to find a parking spot. Keith Garrett had been trying to talk to her for weeks, and while they had hung out a few times, it had been awkward. High school flirting wasn't anyone's glory days, but he had driven up in that motorcycle one evening after graduation. She had hopped on and they drove out to the quarry on the other side of the mountains. Beneath the stars and near a derelict crane, she ha
d lost her virginity, letting the boy embrace her. In the confusion of the world after high school, lawfully adults, and yet still young, they had found each other.

  She looked at the roadhouse, unsure if she should go in. Fuck it, she thought, she needed a drink and if Keith was in there, then she'd have to deal with that too. They had sex for a while after that, an on and off thing that continued till she finally went to college. She remembered thinking about him as her father drove across the country to drop her off. She had worked hard to leave the ranch, to leave home, and even though he was there in the moments after graduation, she was glad she had left him behind then. It hadn't been serious for her, but she always thought that perhaps he liked her more than she liked him.

  She swung open the doors of the roadhouse and was immediately drowning in loud music, cigarette smoke that filled the air, and the wordless yelling and screaming from people dancing and having a good time. She went up to the bar, ordered a beer and looked around the place, trying to remember if anything had changed. Her eyes settled on Keith Garrett, a bodacious blonde sitting on his knee, his motorcycle leathers slung casually over her shoulders. He swigged a beer and laughed with the other leather clad guys.

  His hairline was receding, his arms were large but pale, and he had turned from an awkward geek into something more menacing. Every time of the younger boys next to him would try to laugh he would scowl at them and they'd recede into his seat. She didn't know if it was appropriate to go over and say hello. She wasn't embarrassed of anything that had happened. She knew what she had wanted and she was fine with the outcome.

  She took the beer down in one long gulp, ordered another, and put on her best cowboy swagger and swaggered over to his table. "Keith!" she yelled across the bar. She had to be confident, perhaps even show off a little. It had been years, after all.

  He looked up and stared at her for a moment, processing the person coming over to him and the boys, and then broke into a big toothy smile. "Brewsky!" he yelled back. It had been his nickname for her. She had loved her beers back then, and she could always, always out drink him. And then, he remembered, she would jump his bones. It as the role reversal that he had liked.

  She stood at the table, taking a swig of her beer, above one of the younger boys. Keith savagely kicked the boy's chair and growled, "get yer fat ass up for the lady." The kid scrambled up and offered his seat to Lilith. She accepted it, not knowing if she should get involved.

  "How've you been? Long time no see, ya don't call, ya don't write," he said.

  "I've been good. Finished school, I'm a big ole doctor now."

  "Doc Holliday eh? I assume you're in on the joke then? Got your six shooter handy?" he asked, cracking a big toothy grin. She had always loved the weird spaces between his teeth. She was a weird kid in high school and making out with Keith had involved feeling out every single gap, just for fun.

  "Yeah yeah, I've heard it before. It's just the name I was born with, ya know."

  "Oh do I know it," he said, a little forlornly. His face fell a little and he popped his knee and the bodacious blonde got up. "Honey you wanna grab a few more beers?" The blonde glared at Lilith and walked away. "Don't mind her," he added.

  "She seems lovely."

  "I call her Screamin' Sally. For obvious reasons."

  "You always had a way with nicknames," she said. She took a swig of beer. "Who're your friends," she said glancing to the other leather clad boys.

  "New pledges," said Keith.

  "Pledges?"

  Keith looked at her, took down the rest of his beer, got up and offered his hand. "May I have this dance?"

  She giggled, remembering Ketih's dismal dancing skills. "Alright honey pie," she said, putting on her best drawl.

  They got up and proceeded to the gaggle of people dancing on the floor. "You want something with some ruckus in it?" he asked. She didn't know what that meant, but she nodded anyway.

  Along the back wall a band rocked on their guitars, the drummer banging away as loudly as he could. "Boys! Let's get some ruckus!" yelled Keith. The band stopped playing, nodded, and started again with something that the crowd began to really move to.

  "What do you call this?" asked Lilith.

  "Ruckus," he replied. The crowd started to stomp, clap, and let loose.

  He grabbed her around her waist and leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her face and it landed against her cheek. Screamin' Sally looked on from her table in the corner. Sally and Lilith's eyes met and Lilith immediately knew there was going to be trouble.

  "I remember these," he said feeling her hips. "I used to love these." He moved his hands up her waist, feeling her ribs and towards her breasts. "I remember these too."

  She took his hands and threw them back to his sides. "I'm not having sex with you, I'm a very different person," she whispered into Keith's ears. She was mildly embarrassed and could tell people had seen Keith put his hands on her.

  He looked at her, undeterred. "I heard what happened to Ricky," he yelled above the music. "You want me to do something about it?"

  "What? What would you do?"

  He gave her sidelong glances as he started to get into the music. Another leather clad guy handed him a beer. "Anything you damn want. Ricky. Hell, no one should be messing with the Hollidays."

  As the music got louder, the stomping got heavier, the lights on the ceiling started shaking, fists flew into the air, and Keith suddenly screamed, "Stop!"

  The music ceased and the crowd heaved a final sigh and looked at Keith. He spoke softly. "Anyone, you hear me, anyone who messes with the Holliday family is on my shit list. You got me?"

  "Who do you think you are?" Lilith whispered.

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I'm the ex who still loves you dear." His eyes had widened and he looked overly excited, crazy almost. "And these days, I got more than just my bike."

  His fist flew towards the ceiling and he pointed towards the door. He walked out and behind him filed most of the men and women in the bar, leather clad and not. Outside, they all started their motorcycles, the uproar and din louder than the band had been, and took off down the highway.

  She slapped some money on the bar, walked outside and watched them roll down the highway and out of sight. Things, she decided, had really gotten weird since she had left. Pistol had really receded from the world, Keith was apparently the head of outlaw bikers, and she had walked right into the middle of something to do with the ranch.

  The thought of running away was getting stronger. She thought coming home would have been better, that home would have solved her problems, that home was the respite she needed from a confusing world, but home was just, if not more, confusing than when she had left it.

  She sighed and got back in her truck, turned out of the parking lot, and drove towards home. Her father had wanted to eat dinner together, she remembered, but suddenly she felt that the last thing she needed was more people.

  What did Keith mean when he dictated that anyone who messed with the Hollidays would be on his shit list? Bluster and arrogance had never been Keith's strong suits, but something had changed in his eyes, in his confidence, in his demeanor since she had left. He had clearly changed just as much, if not more, than she had.

  She pulled into the driveway, left a note for her father that she wasn't feeling well and was going to skip dinner, and wandered up to bed. She stared at her childhood bedroom, her high school books, her childhood chest of drawers, her vanity mirror, and ultimately all her memories of a time that she no longer represented.

  She had spent her entire life in that room, and after what anyone would consider an illustrious academic career, she found herself still here. Still confused, still worried, still anxious and angsty about the world's worth of decisions and wants she had to deal with. She had to grow up, she thought. She had to make a change.

  She grabbed the bags that served as a chest of drawers and went in search for another place in the house to stay. It was all too much, she th
ought. It was all just too much.

  She just wanted some peace.

  She walked down one of the side hallways of the house, staring at the water stains on the ceiling. Her father had mentioned hundreds of times that he wanted to, one day, really fix the house properly. But that day had never come, instead it fell more and more into disrepair. Which is exactly how she felt today. If only she should view even Doc Mulreedy's offer positively.

  She found herself on a couch many doors down, in a room that she didn't remember had ever been occupied. She laid down on the couch and tried to think of something safe and her mind rested on the man she ran into yesterday. She thought of his hair, swooping down, his pale green eyes and bronzed arms. He was clean cut and beautiful. And in that moment, overwhelmed with the day's events, all she wanted was to think of him, to want him, to fuck him.

  She wouldn't be able to sleep until she did something about it. She slowly undid the top of her pants, slipped her hand beneath her underwear, easily falling into the same rhythms she had used hundreds of times. She licked her forefinger, slipped it back down her pants, and thought of that stranger, until she felt a little more at ease with the world. Sometimes, she thought, you just gotta do it yourself.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She woke up the next day less than satiated. It wasn't that masturbating, or 'spending time on herself,' as she liked to call it, wasn't great. She knew how to get it done, and she got it done every time. It was more that it would be better to perhaps figure it out with another person. It was like a really good conversation, and she was tired of almost being a schizophrenic. It didn't help that she was still wracked by the same dream. But she was beginning to think she was recognizing the face. She wasn't sure yet, since she could just be dreaming. She laughed at her own joke, trying to start the day happier.

  It was going to be another day of being lazy around the house or trying to figure out what to do in town. She thought she had exhausted her capacity for people after the disastrous night with Keith. She did not feel comfortable with him having his hands all over her. It wasn't just that it was seriously inappropriate, she also knew that she wasn't interested in getting into another relationship with him. What they had before, while it wasn't technically a relationship, it was still a sort of coupling. She had moved beyond that, and she had moved beyond him.