I turned to her and couldn’t resist giving Mrs. Camborne a big hug.
“Thank you, thank you. But how did you know?” I asked, releasing her from my embrace. “I never said anything about furniture.”
“Call it mother’s instinct if you like. But when I talked to the movers before they came up to drop off your boxes, they said there was no furniture, so I knew you would need some.”
“All I can say, Mrs. Camborne, is thank you.” I turned toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “All I’ll need is to buy myself a bed and I’ll be…” I stopped talking and literally dropped my suitcases in the doorway of what was to become my room. “Now you’ve done it, haven’t you, Mrs. Camborne? That’s a beautiful bed.” I turned to the lady. She was smiling from ear to ear. “I will buy it from you, of course.”
“Don’t you talk nonsense now, dear girl. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you about paying for the furniture. Just look after them, that’s all I ask.”
“You know I will, Mrs. Camborne.” I grabbed my cases and put them down in front of the closet doors.
“Okay, I think you’ve got everything you might need for now. So, I’ll leave you for a bit, and if you think of anything else, just give me a call, alright?”
“I will, you can be sure,” I replied as I escorted her to the door of the apartment. “And thanks again for being so thoughtful.”
“As I said, just look after the place; that’s all I expect.”
When I closed the door on her, I felt warm and fuzzy inside. Mrs. Camborne was definitely a nice lady.
As soon as my cases were empty, I went to sit on the couch and took stock of my new situation. I had rented a very pleasant place; the landlady was certainly a gem; I wouldn’t need to buy furniture for a while; but I needed to get kitchen utensils, pots and pans, cutlery, dishes, and everything else one needs on a daily basis.
Since the weekend was right around the corner, I thought I would first locate a supermarket, a department store where I could get all my kitchen dishes and stuff, and a farmer’s market where I could get my veggies, fish, poultry, cheese, and fruit. I made a list. I hadn’t made a list for anything in ages. I felt very domesticated somehow. After I had gone through every room in the place to make sure my list wasn’t missing anything, I looked up the nearest mall and stores on the internet. There was one, ten minutes from my place. On my way there, I passed by a park and playground, which was probably going to be my jogging and exercise spot in the morning, and a number of streets lined with all well-maintained houses and yards. I definitely made the right choice. This neighborhood was very pleasant indeed.
When I asked one of the ladies at the housewares counter if she knew of a farmer’s market close-by, she said that I would find all the fresh veggies, dairy products, and that sort of thing at the organic department of the supermarket. She explained that it was a kind of an indoor farmers’ market. “Better than the seasonal ones,” she added. “At least you can find all your farm produce year-round.”
I had to agree. It was sometimes a chore for Allie and me to go traipsing about the countryside over a weekend to find open-range eggs or poultry.
A couple of hours later, I had my arms full of grocery bags when I stepped out of the supermarket. All of the other purchases were to be delivered either that afternoon or the next morning. I took a cab to get home and soon got all of the grocery stored in the fridge and pantry.
I felt very pleased with having accomplished so much in such a short time. After pouring myself a glass of the red wine I had just purchased, I went to sit on my new couch. I knew my TV was in one of the boxes the movers had put in the second bedroom, but I truly didn’t have the courage to start unpacking just then. Maybe later that evening.
As I was ready to start cooking some fish and snow peas with nugget potatoes for dinner, my cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. My mom was on the line. I had to smile. There wasn’t going to be a day without hearing from her, I was sure. This time she wasn’t worried about the New York winters; she was wondering if I was sure there wouldn’t be any terrorists lurking in my neighborhood.
“You know, Heather, they’re everywhere. Especially in Washington. You can’t know what to expect in such a city. You’ll need some protection.”
“Mom!” I erupted over the line. “Settle down, will you? I’ve not moved to the Middle East. This is Washington, D.C. we’re talking about. Besides, you’ve seen the pictures of the apartment I’ve rented. It’s a very nice place. And the landlady bought furniture for the living room and the bedroom.”
“Did she really?” Mom sounded incredulous. “But now you’ll have to expect that she’ll raise your rent at the first opportunity.”
“Come on, Mom, I thought you’d be happy to hear that my landlady is a very thoughtful woman…”
“Yes, yes, dear, if you say so. I just hope you’re right, that’s all.”
“And since I didn’t have to buy furniture, I bought myself a couple of small appliances. I got a toaster, a grill, and a new crock-pot.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re settling down nicely after all.” She paused. “What about a roommate? You mentioned that you will need to get one to share in the expenses. Are you still intending to do that?”
“Absolutely. I haven’t had a chance to put an ad anywhere or see if there was someone searching for a place in the paper. But I’ll have a look at the bulletin board at the hospital first before I advertise anywhere else.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to put an ad in the local rag anyway?” Mom asked.
“Not really. See, Mom, the people who work at the hospital know our schedule is never set in stone and they’ll only expect to find a clean room to sleep in and a nice person to talk to when we find ourselves together for a few hours.”
“I guess you’re right. But until you find someone suitable, I’ll be worried that your apartment may be ransacked when you’re at work.”
“Mom, please stop worrying. People around here seem very nice and I think, in time, I will like it here.”
“Okay, dear. Just let me know if you need me to send you anything, okay?”
I raised my gaze to the ceiling. “Sure, Mom,” I replied. “But don’t worry about a thing. Everything will be just fine.” I had no idea what my mother had in mind. I didn’t know how to convince her that I wasn’t living among people belonging to a terrorist cell; that the apartment was as comfortable as one could expect; and that I had everything I needed – and then some.
That evening, I finally mustered enough courage to open and empty a few boxes. I got the TV out of its protective Styrofoam and box, and installed it. Since the building was on an optical cable network, I had the local channels and many others already on line as soon as I turned it on. Nevertheless, I needed to subscribe to the cable company to get my DVR and the Wi-Fi set-up. But I was on my way to being electronically connected to the world again.
Next, I hooked up the stereo and amps. It worked like a charm. I inserted the flash drive with all my recorded music into the USB port and turned the volume up a little. I returned to the couch to admire the result of my efforts. The only thing missing was a bracket on the wall for the TV and a stereo table for the sound system. I also brought my old and trusty turntable with me. There was still some music, like jazz and some classics, which I liked to listen to on LP records. I’ve heard that many music lovers feel the same as I do; an LP is worth all the CD productions you can buy. For some reason, the sound feels much more intimate and cozy–like an old friend playing a tune on the family piano.
Satisfied with my progress and since nearly half of the boxes were already empty, I decided to call it a day. It had been a long one. I took a leisurely, relaxing bubble bath in the old-fashioned bathroom and enjoyed every minute of it. That apartment was definitely the perfect choice. I just hoped my first day at the hospital would be as pleasant as this first day in D.C. had been.
However, the weekend was still young and I had to go
on a discovery of the park and playground that I had seen that afternoon. While I lay in bed–as comfortable as a gorgeous white cloud–I thought about Allie and what her first day in Chicago would have been like. I didn’t want to phone her that night. It was far too late. She was probably asleep already. Then I thought of Robin. He was due to fly out tomorrow to L.A. Sweet Robin. I’ll have to text him in the morning before I go for a jog, I thought. Then my thoughts suddenly turned to Jeff. Eight months had gone by since that famous night together. He was such a hunk of a man, was my last thought before I fell in the arms of Orpheus.
The morning was a gorgeous one. I opened my eyes and it took a fraction of a second for me to remember where I was. This was my new bedroom, in my new place. I was Dr. Heather Williams. I still couldn’t readily believe it. Yet, here I was, in Washington, D.C. looking at starting my internship in two days’ time. I sat up, slipped into my bathrobe, and went to the kitchen. The entire apartment was bathing in the morning sun. I turned the coffee machine on and went to get into my jogging suit after splashing some water on my face. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge on my way out and ran down the stairs.
Since it was only 7:00 am on Saturday morning, the building seemed to drown in an eerie silence. Outside, the morning due covered every inch of the front yard and hedges. I did a few stretches on the sidewalk before starting toward the park at a trotting pace. Same as in New York, the summer humidity can really take a toll on you very quickly. You need to pace yourself and not impose too much on your heart in the first few minutes. Once I reached the park, I chose one of the trails that seemed to encircle it. I increased the speed and began jogging at a good pace. Looking at my watch, I noticed that circling the park had taken me about fifteen minutes. So, four rounds would do me for an hour’s jog in the morning. However, on that morning, I decided to limit my effort to two laps.
As I entered my apartment, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee teased my nostrils. That’s all I needed to remind me that I was hungry. After a long shower and washing my hair, I headed for the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. It was only eight-thirty. I looked through the peephole. Mrs. Camborne was standing on the other side of the door smiling at me.
“I thought you might like some of my most famous bran muffins for breakfast,” she said, as I opened the door to her, handing me a baking tray with a half dozen freshly baked muffins. I didn’t know what to say.
Mrs. Camborne was going to be worse than my mother, I thought, but said nothing other than, “Thank you, Mrs. Camborne. You are really spoiling me this time.”
“Yes, yes, I know I am, but that’s because I want you to be happy here.” She smiled and turned to the door. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I’ll probably be talking to you later.” She opened the door and walked out before I had time to say anything else.
I shook my head as I closed it behind her, blurting, “Have a great day, ma’am.”
Chapter 6
On Sunday morning, I took a bus and spent part of the day at the flea market, which Mrs. Camborne had recommended for me to visit. I found almost everything I needed to add to my décor. I found a sound system cabinet that only cost me ten bucks and a couple of items for the kitchen and bathroom. Laden once again with shopping bags and furniture, I had to take a cab to go home. A vehicle would definitely be a plus on days like that one. Yet, my finances were not allowing for the monthly payments associated with a car–plus gas, insurance, maintenance, etc. I couldn’t see myself working to pay for a vehicle I would only use once in a blue moon.
When I got home and set everything up, I began feeling as if this was not just an ‘apartment’ but ‘a home’ where I would be pleased to return after work. Talking about work, I was avoiding the thought of walking to the hospital the next day and meeting my colleagues—as well as the chief medical resident. It was a daunting prospect for sure. I had called Allie the day before and she told me about her first day in Chicago. She had taken the ‘bull by the horns’ as it were and had gone to meet the resident doctor who was going to look after the interns at her hospital.
“He’s such a sweetheart,” Allie said. “He’s taken me to visit a couple of his patients already and didn’t mind talking about everything that was going to happen on Monday.” I silently wished I had the guts to do just that–visit the hospital ahead of time.
“Do you know how many interns they have taken in this year?” I asked.
“Just a dozen I think. They want more doctors on their surgical teams and a couple more in the emergency department. What about you? Did you have a look at what you should be expecting?”
“Well…no. I’ll leave it for Monday morning. I’ll be on equal footing with everybody else then.”
“You mean you’re too scared to face the music, aren’t you?”
Allie knew me all too well. “I guess so. I can hide behind a few people then, and stand at the back of the room sort of thing.”
“As if your resident doctor is going to let you hide for very long.”
“I know, Allie, but I don’t have your guts. I’ll just see what happens on Monday.”
After a few more parting words, I hung up, feeling annoyed. You’re a coward, aren’t you? I told myself as I prepared dinner.
And then it was Monday morning. I turned on my belly and hid my head under the pillow. If I wanted to be on time for my first day, I had to get a move-on. I literally dragged myself out of bed, put on my tracksuit, and went to the bathroom to put my face under the sink faucet. I needed a kick in the butt. I switched the coffee maker on as I ran out the door, and rushed down the stairs. I jumped on the spot, did a couple of stretches in the front yard, and began jogging toward the park.
I wasn’t alone. There were a couple or three people running the lap surrounding the woods and playground. It was only seven a.m. but it seemed that a lot of people were out–probably going to work already. While running the second lap around the park, I saw a young woman in the distance. She was pacing herself, same as I did. No running wild, just jogging a lap or two, nice and easy. Seeing other people than myself around made me feel better. After all, humans are social animals. Apart from a few exceptions, we like to see people around us. And I’m not one of the exceptions. I don’t mind being alone, but I’m not your typical loner either. This girl, the one trotting in front of me, slowed down to re-adjust her earphones. She was listening to her iPod or maybe she had some iTunes on her phone. That was something I hadn’t done yet. I made a mental note to record a few things on my phone, so I could listen to a rhythmic melody while I jogged.
As soon as I arrived on the third floor of my building, I saw the bag in front of the door. I didn’t have to worry or wonder what it was–I knew it already. Mrs. Camborne had baked some other goodies for me. I better get a roommate pretty fast, I thought, otherwise I’ll have to go on a diet sooner rather than later. Besides, I don’t mind eating a muffin once in a while, but that’s not part of my every day breakfast. Cereal, fruits, milk, toasts (maybe), yogurt and, coffee are my favorites. However, as I opened the bag, I was surprised to find a small tray of vegetable lasagna. Good grief! The woman is impossible. Anyway, I was grateful, in a way. I knew I probably would never have time anymore to cook such a dish for me alone, too much time and a lot of effort for one meal. I took the tray out of the bag and put it in the freezer. I wasn’t planning on eating much of anything that night. I would probably toss a salad and have a light dinner. I hate feeling like a stuffed turkey in the evening.
When I came out of the shower, dried myself off and let my hair out of my towel turban, I felt good somehow. I was rested and ready to tackle the day.
An hour later, I walked in the hospital. Looking around me, I had to admire the modern foyer, the well-designed directory, the ample seating and the soothing décor. Nothing like it used to be in the old days. No smell of ether either–only the smell of flowers and greenery emanating from the flower shop near the rece
ption desk.
Since I had received a letter telling me which floor and department I had to look for, I didn’t have to ask any question from the administration girls behind the desk. I made my way to the elevator and pressed “5”. The interns’ office and lunchroom were located on that floor.
As I came out of the elevator, I noticed a half dozen people gathered around a table at the far corner of the room. A woman turned her head and looked at me before cracking a smile. She got up and came toward me, a hand extended.
“I am Doctor Kerry Rosalind,” she said, shaking my outstretched hand. “I’ll be your resident supervisor. Welcome aboard, Dr. Williams.”
My heart was thumping so heart against my ribs; I thought I was going to have a stroke. “Thank you, Doctor. Am I late?”
“No, no, not at all, Dr. Williams, there are another four bodies to come to the slaughter,” she joked.
She wasn’t wrong. I certainly felt as if I was going to be killed in the next few minutes, falling dead under her questions.
Dr. Kerry Rosalind was a black woman in her late thirties. She was tall and looked as if she spent time on her grooming; her hair was coiffed to perfection. She wore a little discreet make-up and seemed comfortable in her skin. Nice lady, I thought. Probably tough as nails, though.
She introduced me to the group. There were three men and three women sitting around the table. One of the women attracted my attention immediately. She was a lovely girl. A nice face surrounded by beautiful, curly, black hair. Tiffany Jenson was her name. I sat beside her.
No one said a word for a moment until Dr. Rosalind asked everyone to tell the group where they had studied and where they expected to go from that moment forward. Gerald Houston, the bragger of the bunch, had studied in Ohio and was on his way “to become the top surgeon in the house,” he said mockingly. But I think he meant it.
Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel) Page 4