Chapter 13
As Daphne went out to her car on Friday, she really wanted to pull the plug on this thing. There had to be a graceful way out.
“Hey, neighbor,” Sabrina called out as she crossed the street. Tootsie, dressed in a red-and-white striped T-shirt, was on his leash today. “Where you off to?”
Daphne quickly explained about her blind coffee date.
“A blind date? Who set you up?”
Daphne frowned. “Jake.”
Sabrina’s pale brows arched. “Interesting.”
“Jake was concerned I was attracting the wrong sort of men.” She rolled her eyes. “So he arranged for me to meet his doctor friend Tony.”
“A doctor? That’s fabulous. My mama always wanted me to marry a doctor. But why so glum? What’s the problem with him?”
“The problem is me. I feel ridiculous.”
“Well, you look hot.” Sabrina nodded with approval.
“Hot?” Daphne frowned. “I was going for conservative.”
“Okay. You look hot in a conservative way.”
Daphne jingled her car keys nervously. “I’d really like to just call the whole thing off. Except I don’t have Dr. Tony’s phone number. Wonder what he’d think if I was a no-show.”
Sabrina gave her a gentle shove toward her car. “No way. You are going to go meet Dr. Tony. If you don’t like him, you can always set me up with him for another blind coffee date.”
Daphne chuckled. “Maybe I should take you with me. Let him choose.”
“Now you’re just being silly.” Sabrina waved her hand. “I want to hear all about it. Hey, why don’t you come over for lunch when you get back? I made portobello raviolis last night and they are yummy.”
“Sounds good. I’ll bring some leftover salad.”
“It’s a date.” Sabrina tugged on Tootsie’s leash. “Taking my little boy out for a morning stroll.” She made a little finger wave. “Ya’ll have fun now!”
“Right,” Daphne muttered as she got into the car. She ran her hand over the shiny steering wheel. “Bonnie, you’re a good old car, but are you worth the effort I’m making to keep you?” Daphne continued talking to herself as she drove to the hospital. “It’s just coffee. You’ll make some small talk, tell him you are pleased to meet him, and then be on your way. Twenty minutes max.”
As she walked into the hospital, she had a flashback that took her back nearly thirty years. She had just turned five the first time she walked through this lobby. Aunt Dee had dressed her up in her Sunday best and drove her here. Mom had been in the hospital for about a week by then. Daphne hadn’t really understood why exactly, although she had been aware that Mom was sick. She just hadn’t realized how sick. It was her first time being in the hospital and the last time she saw her mom. Daphne shuddered—it all seemed like just yesterday.
She was still shaking off the flashback as she entered the cafeteria. Jake had e-mailed her yesterday regarding this meeting, saying Tony would be by the windows, with blond hair and a white doctor’s coat. She spotted a man who seemed to fit the description. Then trying not to feel nervous, she got herself a cup of coffee and carried it over to him. Fortunately he was reading a newspaper and didn’t even notice her.
“Excuse me. Are you Tony?”
He looked up and smiled. “That’s right. And you must be Daphne.”
“Yes,” she told him as she sat down. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” He folded the paper and set it next to him.
“When Jake called me about you, I thought he was pulling my leg.”
She nodded. “It took me by surprise too.”
“But after I thought about it, I decided it was a good idea. And I knew I could trust Jake.” He grinned. “And he was right. You are very pretty.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “And I only have about fifteen minutes before a staff meeting. So I suppose we should get right to it. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
So Daphne told him about working for The Times in New York, then how she moved back home after her aunt’s death. “I never thought I’d want to go back to small-town living, but I am actually loving it.”
“So what do you do . . . I mean for a living?”
“Well, I’m working on a novel. And I do some other writing . . . for newspapers.”
“Ah, freelancing. Sounds like a good life.”
“Not quite as demanding as being a doctor. Jake said you’re on staff here. I imagine that might be stressful.”
“It’s a little more pressure than private practice. But it’s rewarding too. I’ve been here about five years now. Sometimes I think I’ll go back to private practice, but I know I’d miss the action. I enjoy working with other medical professionals around me.” He continued to talk about his work there and some interesting cases where he made what sounded like some brilliant diagnoses.
“Sounds like St. George is very lucky to have you.”
He shrugged. “I try to earn my keep. But sometimes it’s a challenge.” He told her about how he and an older doctor had gone head-to-head. “So much of his training was antiquated, but he had seniority over me. I had to put up with the old codger for three long years, and I was actually ready to give this place up permanently. But then the administrator talked him into retiring. That was a happy day. For everyone. Since then I’ve really enjoyed my work a lot.” He looked up at the clock again. “And as enjoyable as this has been, I need to excuse myself.”
They both stood and she was a little surprised to see that he was a few inches shorter than her. And she wasn’t even wearing heels. They shook hands and started walking out together. But just outside of the cafeteria, he turned to face her, asking if he could see her again.
“Sure.” She felt off guard.
“How about dinner?”
“Okay . . . why not?”
“I get off work at six today. How about seven?”
“Tonight?”
“Are you busy?”
“Um . . . no.”
He pulled a business card out of his coat pocket. “Here, call my cell number and leave me a message about where you live. I’ll pick you up at sevenish. Okay?”
She nodded, watching as he gave her a quick wave, then hurried toward the elevators. She stood there for a moment just staring. Had she really agreed to go to dinner with him? She looked at the business card in her hand and shook her head. So much for chitchat and parting ways.
She walked out to her car. Why did she feel like dragging her heels? After all, Tony was a perfectly nice guy. Educated and professional and confident. He was well spoken and seemed to have a positive attitude about life. He really enjoyed his work. And he liked her.
Even so, he didn’t feel quite right. Not right for her anyway. She couldn’t even think of a rational reason why she felt so certain of this. And now she would be forced to spend an entire evening with him. She felt like calling Jake and complaining. But not only did that seem juvenile, it was downright ungrateful. Still, she felt irked that Jake had been behind this. What could he have been thinking?
As she drove home, she chided herself for being too judgmental. She was being far too hasty. Good grief, she hardly even knew the poor man. How could she write him off so quickly? Why not give him the benefit of the doubt? Get to know him better . . . before she decided it was hopeless. She had no plans for the evening. What was wrong with sharing a meal with a nice guy? If nothing else, she would find out for sure whether she was right or wrong about him. What if it turned out he truly was Mr. Right . . . and she never gave him a chance to prove it?
She parked the car in the driveway and, without getting out, pulled out his business card and called him. She went straight to voice mail and gave him both her phone number and addre
ss. “I’m looking forward to it,” she said before she hung up. And really, she was looking forward to it, wasn’t she?
“He sounds great,” Sabrina said as they sat in her backyard eating lunch. “And he must like you. He’s not wasting any time.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded as she chewed a ravioli.
“But you still don’t seem very excited.”
Daphne set her fork down. “I just don’t think he’s the guy for me.”
“Why not?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“But the way you described him—he sounds absolutely wonderful.”
“I know. And I hope I’m wrong. Maybe I was just nervous. They say the brain doesn’t work as well when you’re anxious or stressed. Maybe that’s what was going on.”
“Oh yeah.” Sabrina nodded. “I can never think straight when I’m upset.”
“Anyway, after tonight I should have a better idea.”
“What does he look like?”
“Kind of fair. Blond hair, blue eyes. He reminds me of the guy who played Niles on Frasier. Remember the younger brother?”
“I always adored Niles. Oh, Daphne, it sounds like Tony is really cute.” She sighed. “And he’s a doctor. I think you hit the jackpot.”
Daphne chuckled. “Oh yeah, he’s a few inches shorter than me too.”
Sabrina’s brow creased as if imagining this. “Well, you got to admit you’re pretty tall for a woman. And some guys like their women tall. I’ll bet you two look sweet together. Why don’t you snap a photo of yourselves together at dinner and send it to me?”
“No thanks.” Daphne firmly shook her head. “I am not into that. Not at all.”
Sabrina frowned. “I suppose I’ll just have to play the snoopy neighbor with my nose pressed against the window. Didn’t you say he’s coming around seven?”
Seven came and went. It was a quarter to eight when Tony finally showed up. “I’m sorry for being late,” he said when she opened the door. “I had to cover for another doctor. Her son got hurt at sleepover camp and she had to go get him.”
“That’s okay.”
“Well, that’s a doctor’s life.” He shrugged as he came into the house. “At least when you work at a hospital. Still, I wouldn’t trade it for private practice.” He looked around the foyer. “Nice place.”
As she got her purse, she explained that it had been her aunt’s house. “But I redecorated it.”
“Looks good.” He nodded. “I like it.” As they went outside, he told her about his condo. “We sold the house after the divorce. Neither of us wanted it anymore. And now I live closer to the hospital. So that’s pretty convenient.” He opened the driver’s door of a small hybrid car. “Of course, it can be inconvenient too.” He called over the roof. “I’m usually the first one they call when they’re short staffed.”
She opened the passenger side door and got in. Okay, it wasn’t that terrible—that he hadn’t opened the door for her. But for some reason it really bugged her. As he rattled on about the goings-on at the hospital today, she remembered how he hadn’t stood when he met her in the cafeteria. And how he hadn’t called to say he was running late either. They probably didn’t teach etiquette at med school.
“So this little four-year-old was so worked up,” he said. “She thought that having a broken arm meant she was going to lose the arm completely. Turned out she’d accidentally broken a figurine a few days ago. The arm had come off.” He laughed. “So she assumed hers would come off too.”
“Poor thing. That must’ve been traumatic.”
“You should’ve seen her face when we finished with her cast. She picked hot pink for it. And she was so proud of that cast she was just beaming.”
“That reminds me of when I was little.” She started to tell him about the flashback she’d had at the hospital this morning, but before she could finish, he was talking about another patient, explaining how the old woman had taken a permanent marker to her leg.
“She’d written ‘Replace this hip and not the other one’ in bold black letters.” He laughed. “Can you believe that?”
She nodded, but she was still reminiscing about her childhood . . . and how she equated the hospital as a place people went to die. She had been about to tell him about how she’d been seven when her father was hospitalized with an appendicitis. She had been certain he was going to die. Fortunately Aunt Dee had set her straight on that misconception. And Dad had come back home just a couple days later.
By the time Tony parked his car at The Italian Kitchen, she realized that he had two favorite topics of conversation: 1) his job and 2) himself. Besides that, his listening skills were not highly developed. That seemed an unhandy trait for a doctor. Weren’t they supposed to listen to their patients?
As they were seated in a booth, the strikes were quickly piling up against Dr. Tony. And once again, she felt irritated at Jake. Surely he must’ve known that his good friend was both self-centered and ill-mannered. Didn’t he say they played golf together? Or maybe guys didn’t pay attention to those kinds of details with their golf buddies. However, Jake wasn’t like Tony. He wasn’t self-centered, and even though he could be pushy at times, he was not ill-mannered. It stood to reason that he would’ve realized Tony would not measure up to Daphne’s expectations. What was he thinking?
“You’re not very hungry?” Tony asked when he noticed that she sent her entrée back only half eaten.
“I think my salad filled me up,” she fibbed. The truth was, the salad had been as disappointing as this date. Why would any self-respecting chef serve limp iceberg lettuce with anemic tomatoes and wilted cucumbers when there was so much delicious fresh produce to be found this time of year? But then she’d never been a big fan of this restaurant in the first place. Of course, he hadn’t asked her about that either.
“I eat most of my meals at the hospital. Some people complain about the food, but it’s cheap and handy—and good enough for me.” He plucked up a piece of bread. “So when I go out to eat, I really try to enjoy it. And fortunately I’m playing golf tomorrow. So I can work off all these carbs.”
“With Jake?”
“What?”
“Golf,” she explained. “Are you playing with Jake?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Tee time is eight.”
“Give him my regards.” She genuinely smiled as she considered what her true regards would actually be. She would love to give Jake a big piece of her mind. And next time she saw him, maybe she would.
Tony continued talking about himself and his work and even his golf game. She nodded or made polite comments at appropriate intervals, but it was clear he didn’t really need her to keep this conversation going. He was a one-man show.
“Well, because of that early tee time, I can’t make a late night of it,” he said as they finished dessert. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She set her spoon down. At least the ice cream had been good. Although it would be difficult to mess up ice cream.
He continued to chat as he drove her home. To keep herself from screaming, she silently counted. By the time he came to her street, she had reached 134.
“Now, here I’ve gone on and on about me and my work.” He pulled in front of her house. “My ex-wife used to complain about this all the time.”
“Oh?” She tried to act surprised.
“Yeah. She was always telling me I was too obsessed with work. She used to say I didn’t need a wife because I was already married—to my job.” He laughed wryly. “And maybe that’s true. But she ended up marrying another doctor anyway. I guess some people never learn.”
Daphne wanted to point out that not all doctors were as self-absorbed as Tony. Instead she just nodded. She’d spent so much time nodding tonight that she felt like a bobble-head doll. “Thank you for dinner,” she said mechanically as she
reached for the door handle. “You don’t need to see me to the door.”
Okay, she seriously doubted he even planned to, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She got out and scurried up to her porch, then turning and smiling stiffly, she gave him a little wave and hurried into the house. Hopefully he got the message.
Chapter 14
Sabrina showed up the next morning, eager to find out about the big date. But if she was disappointed by what she heard, her facial expressions did not show it.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing.” Daphne leaned over to pull a weed growing in one of the decorative pots on the porch. “But you could at least show a little sympathy. I think that might’ve been the worst date I’ve ever been on.”
“Maybe you should’ve listened to your instincts.”
Daphne blinked. Hadn’t Sabrina strongly encouraged her to go out with Tony? “From now on, I will listen to my instincts.”
“So you’re really not interested in Dr. Tony?”
“Not in the least.” She sat back down in a rocker. “Even if my leg had been chopped off and I was bleeding to death and Tony was the only doctor at St. George, I would tell him to keep away from me.”
“You would not!” Sabrina looked horrified.
Daphne chuckled. “Well, I’d think about it.”
“So how about introducing him to me?”
Daphne frowned. “Oh, Sabrina, you wouldn’t like him.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he is thoroughly unlikeable. Take it from me.”
“You better watch what you say, neighbor. How would you feel if I met your Tony and we fell in love and got married and found ourselves living across the street from you? Then what would you say?”
“I’d say don’t bring your husband over to my house for coffee.”
Dating, Dining, and Desperation (A Dear Daphne Novel) Page 12