by Candy Caine
“Okay. I understand and won’t keep you any longer.”
As he walked her to the door, he put a hand on her slender shoulder. “Raven, I meant what I said.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Take care…and good luck.”
Raven smiled weakly and left.
* * *
Stern sat back down at his desk and dwelled on Raven’s abrupt departure from the firm. He did understand—all too well. She hadn’t been the first female associate to leave in such a manner. What all these women had in common, aside from their litigation skills, was their beauty. And the fact that Greg Behr most likely hit on them. What happened to Grace Paterno was common knowledge. So was the fact that Behr was a womanizing letch. If he didn’t possess such a large portfolio of clients, Stern would team up with the other partners of the firm in a heartbeat to get rid of him.
* * *
After cleaning out her desk and saying goodbye to several people, Raven headed toward home. As usual, she was stopped at the light by the ice cream parlor. The help-wanted sign was still displayed prominently in the window. Raven smiled and turned into the side street, parking the car in the lot behind the strip mall. Grabbing her purse and keys, she headed into Flavor of the Week.
A bell attached to the door jingled as Raven entered. A redheaded woman in her mid-forties or early fifties was waiting on a group of teenagers. She acknowledged Raven and smiled. “Be with you in a sec.”
Raven looked around the ice cream parlor. Red and white polka dots covered the walls. The floor was red and white tile laid out in a striped pattern. She counted eight small, round tables with old-fashioned, caned-back chairs. The business end of the ice cream parlor was a counter and refrigerated glass case that ran nearly the entire length of the back wall. It showcased the 32 different flavors. A menu board hung on the back wall. Below it was a counter on which sat a soft-serve ice cream machine, syrup pumps, and a colorful collection of toppings. A soda fountain and an automatic milkshake machine were there, as well.
“What can I get you?” The woman asked.
“This is a very nice place,” Raven replied.
“Why, thank you. Have you decided what you wanted?”
“I believe I have,” Raven said and smiled broadly.
“Well, what would you like?”
“I’d like to apply for the job.”
Not quite certain she’d heard Raven correctly the woman said, “Excuse me, what did you just say?”
“Is the job still available?” Raven half-turned, pointing to the help-wanted sign.
“Yes, it is, but… Are you sure you really want to work here?”
“Right now, I want this job more than I’ve ever wanted anything before,” Raven replied.
The woman looked at Raven as if she’d lost her mind or was joking. Eying her expensive-looking, designer suit, shoes and purse, she wondered about the young woman. Was she independently wealthy and only wanted to work for amusement, or what?
“You do realize that this is a minimum wage job, don’t you?”
“I’m not doing it for the money. Let’s just say I like ice cream and need a change of pace.”
“You don’t sound too serious about the position. I need to know you’re going to stick around a while,” the woman said, wiping down the counter. “I don’t want to take the time to train you if you intend to leave after you become bored with the job.”
“Oh, I’m serious all right. And you’ll find my credentials in order.”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Even so, I’m not too sure you’ll be a good fit.”
“How can you say that? You don’t know a thing about me,” Raven protested.
The woman began to say something, but closed her mouth. This gave Raven the chance to try and change her mind.
“All I want is the opportunity to show you how serious I am. Obviously you need somebody, or else you wouldn’t be advertising for help. Besides, with all due respect, what do you have to lose?”
“What’s your name?”
“Raven Gould.”
“What have you been doing, Raven?”
“You mean job wise?”
The woman nodded.
“Working for the law firm of Behr, Stern & West.”
“You’re a lawyer?” The woman’s eyes opened wide. “Now I’m positive you’re certifiable.”
“Not in the least. I assure you, I’m just as sane as you are. In fact, I need this job in order to keep my sanity.”
The woman only shook her head.
“If I’d come in wearing less fancy duds, would you have questioned my motives?”
The woman pursed her lips. “Probably not.”
“I’d be the same person no matter what I was wearing,” Raven said.
The woman gave her a wry smile. “You’re a lawyer, all right. I guess you’ve won your case, counselor. When do you want to start?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Tomorrow will be just fine. Would you like to fill out the paperwork now or tomorrow, Raven?”
“I’m here now, so…”
The teenagers left and the bell on the door jingled. The woman turned back to Raven.
“I’m Marge Kelsey. Welcome aboard, Raven.”
* * *
Raven found her aunt in the kitchen putting a ham into the oven.
“You’re home early tonight,” Dottie said.
“Uh-huh.”
Dottie looked up at her niece and caught her huge smile. “Good day in court?”
Raven shook her head. “Didn’t go to court today.”
“Oh? So…what’s with the big smile?” Dottie asked, bending to fetch a pot from the cabinet. “Oh, I know! Bonuses were given out today, right?”
“No. I quit my job today.”
Dottie froze. Her jaw dropped as she slowly turned to face Raven. “What? Have you lost your mind, girl?”
“No. I never felt so certain about something in my entire life.”
Dottie, grabbing the side of the counter to steady herself, gave Raven a sidelong glance of utter disbelief.
“You look faint, Aunt Dottie. Maybe you should sit down.”
“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ve never felt better,” Raven said cheerfully.
“Let me get this straight. You just threw away all those years of schooling along with your job at one of the most prestigious law firms in Mineola, and you’re telling me you’re fine?”
“Yes. Except, I wouldn’t phrase it exactly the same way.”
“Why? Why would you do such an idiotic thing?” Dottie asked incredulously.
“To be happy.”
“That’s it? To be happy?”
“Yes, to be happy. I need to smile more and go and smell the roses.”
“Aside from seeing too many Travelocity commercials, can you elaborate on that?” Dottie asked, rubbing her temple.
“It’s simple. I’m now free of the stress and no longer feel a constant weight on my shoulders.”
“Did you fall and bang your head, Raven? How’s your vision? Seeing double?”
Raven rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s not a hard concept. I just wanted to be happy. I’m not sick and would like you to take what I’m telling you seriously.”
“I’d like to, Raven, but I don’t think a normal person would just throw away a career— especially one that they worked so hard for just like that.”
Raven placed her hands on her hips. “Well, a person would if she wasn’t happy. Sometimes it takes a while before she realizes how miserable the job is making her.”
Dottie collapsed into a chair, pinching her nose between her eyes. “Tell me, what will you be doing instead?”
“Working in an ice cream shop.”
“You bought an ice cream franchise?” Dottie asked.
“No. I’m just going to work in one.”
The vein on the side of Dottie’s neck began to throb. “Now I know you’
ve lost it!”
“What’s wrong with working in an ice cream parlor?”
Dottie made her way to a chair. “Where do you want me to begin?”
Raven shrugged. “You made the statement…”
Breathless with frustration, Dottie said, “All right. How’s about the pay for starters. How would you pay your rent if you didn’t live here?”
“If it ever came to that, I’d find a way. Oh, come on, Aunt Dottie, why can’t you be happy for me?” Raven asked.
“Because girl, what you’re doing is just crazy. Maybe you need to talk to somebody—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Raven said in an icy voice. “We all know how wonderful talking to a psychologist worked out for Shawna, don’t we?”
The instant her words left her lips, Dottie realized it had been a terrible mistake. Her mention of a psychologist had only made matters worse. Shawna had been Raven’s best friend. A troubled child, Shawna had seen several psychologists. Unfortunately, none could help her exorcize the devils within her, and she eventually took her own life. Raven fixed the blame squarely on the last psychologist seeing Shawna, but disliked all psychologists equally.
“Okay, Raven. I’m sure after you have a good night’s sleep, by tomorrow you’ll see how silly your idea sounds and march right back to the law firm.”
Raven sighed and shook her head. “I’m not going to stand here and attempt to justify my decision. You’ll just have to accept it, Aunt Dottie. But, keep in mind, it’s not just any run-of-the-mill ice cream parlor. It’s got everything an ice cream lover could ever want, with thirty-two flavors, soda machines, countless toppings, and—”
“Raven! Stop! Listen to yourself. You’re talking about an ice cream parlor. What you’re doing is insane—”
“No, it’s not. All I’m doing is following my dream—”
“Which was to be a lawyer!” Dottie said, frustration lacing her voice.
Raven shook her head. “Life is a journey. Nothing is inscribed in stone. I realized I’d made a mistake and changed my mind. It’s as simple as that. I’m starving. Call me when dinner is ready,” she said and left the kitchen.
Dottie watched her niece walk away. She’d noticed how Raven’s entire face lit with an inner glow that had been absent for some time, but no matter how her niece perceived the ice cream parlor, it was still not a suitable job for someone with her skills. It could be the most unique ice cream parlor in the world, but after all was said and done, it still remained an ice cream parlor. What was at stake here was that Raven had decided to give up a promising law career. What had happened to the girl who’d worked her ass off in school in order to be accepted at Columbia? How was Raven willing to just throw all that away in a blink of an eye?
Though Dottie’s mind was now crowded with hundreds of thoughts, each fighting for attention, one was screaming the loudest and took center stage. Obviously, Raven wasn’t firing on all her cylinders. She was in deep emotional trouble. And the only logical explanation Dottie could come up with was that something had to have happened to her. Perhaps a weird seizure of some kind had scrambled her brain. Or…God forbid…a brain tumor. Though the thought was horrifying, to say the least, it would explain Raven’s bizarre decision. What else could it be? A level-headed woman wouldn’t walk away from the money Raven was making to take a minimum wage job in an ice cream parlor.
If nothing else, Dottie was a realist. She knew it would be useless to try and talk Raven out of leaving her job that night. Usually once her niece made up her mind, it was a done deal. If Dottie was going to get Raven back on the sanity train, she needed help. And she needed it quickly before Raven threw her law career away and ruined her entire life.
Having finished the preparations for dinner, Dottie poured herself a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Nursing the mug between her hands, she thought back to one of the darkest days of her life—when she’d been notified by the police that her sister, Deanna, and brother-in-law, Philip, had been killed in a horrific car accident involving six cars. They had been out to dinner to celebrate their anniversary. Dottie was babysitting Raven, who was six years old at the time.
Following her sister’s tragic death, Dottie raised Raven as her own daughter. It turned out to be the best thing for them both, because the child was Dottie’s salvation, as well. Left for another woman by the man she’d loved and thought loved her, she’d become a bitter, disillusioned woman, alone with no life. All she had was a job, and it hadn’t seemed enough. Raven renewed her spirit, giving her a reason to get up in the morning.
A tear dropped into Dottie’s coffee mug. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Wiping her eyes with a napkin, she wondered if she’d somehow contributed to Raven’s decision to change her job. Had she complained too much about Raven’s long hours at the office and her coming home late? No. This wasn’t about her. This was Raven’s decision. None of that other stuff mattered. What was of grave concern was how she was going to get Raven to change her mind.
No matter what the reason had been for Raven’s decision, Dottie knew she was going to need professional help. Having prided herself a strong, independent woman all these years, she never felt as helpless as she did now.
Chapter Four
The following day, Dottie asked Sylvia Horning, a woman she’d worked beside for nearly fifteen years, for the name of the psychologist who was treating her daughter, Laura. When Sylvia had first told Dottie her daughter kept cutting herself, Dottie sympathized with Sylvia, but was secretly glad she hadn’t had to deal with such heartache. Fortunately, the psychologist now seeing Laura was helping the girl cope with the underlying problems causing her to want to hurt herself.
Dottie figured if this doctor could help such a troubled child, he might be able to help Raven. Except there was a problem with this equation. It would be next to impossible for Dottie to get Raven to see this man. Not only did Raven hate psychologists in general, she blamed one for her best friend’s death. And as if that wasn’t enough, she felt there was nothing wrong with her cockamamie decision to chuck her career.
After spending countless hours of thought seeking a solution to this problem, Dottie came up with a tenuous one. It was based on something her grandmother used to say. “If the mountain will not come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the mountain,” Dottie said aloud to herself.
* * *
Dottie made an appointment to speak to the psychologist, citing feelings of depression. Surely, when she explained everything to Dr. Lusk, he’d understand and forgive her the small white lie. His office was located in a medical building on Old Country Rd. in Carle Place. The directory by the front door listed Dr. Lusk in suite 4.
Fortified by the knowledge that this was the best thing for her niece, Dottie followed the directions to Dr. Lusk’s office. As she walked, she thought about what she intended to do, knowing quite well how easily her plan could fail. But she’d sworn to bring up Deanna’s child in the manner she knew her sister would have wanted, so she at least had to try.
Dr. Lusk’s waiting room was small, but cheerful. There was a fully stocked magazine rack, multicolored padded chairs, plush brown carpeting, and framed pictures covering the walls of people engaged in all types of outdoor activities. His receptionist was a young and quite attractive brunette dressed in a brightly colored smock and white slacks. Dottie wondered if they were having a relationship. If they weren’t and the doctor was single, maybe he’d like Raven and—What was she thinking? Yes, she was here for Raven, but not to get her married. Her mission was to have Raven’s head straightened out. Then she could think about marriage.
Dottie approached the reception desk “Hello. I have a three-thirty appointment to see Dr. Lusk.”
“Ms. Williams?”
Dottie nodded.
“Please complete this form and sign the bottom,” the receptionist said as she handed Dottie a clipboard with a pen attached.
Dottie took a seat and began to answer the qu
estions, hating the fact she was lying. When she was finished, she returned the clipboard to the receptionist.
The younger woman smiled. “Thank you. The doctor will see you shortly.”
Dottie sat down and thought about what she intended to tell Dr. Lusk for the hundredth time. Several minutes later, the door to the right of the receptionist’s desk opened. A reed-thin, young woman, with long, blonde hair, strolled out, waved to the receptionist, and left.
Before Dottie could compose another thought, the door opened again and a tall, dark, wavy-haired, attractive man wearing a light blue shirt, red tie, and tan slacks approached her. He was not what she’d expected, at all. He looked more like a matinee idol—the kind she’d swooned over when she was younger.
“Ms. Williams, hello. I’m Dr. Lucas Lusk. If you’ll follow me, we can start our session.”
His name should be Dr. Lust, she thought, wishing she were twenty years younger. That man could sweet-talk Freud to me every night. Dottie lifted her purse from her lap and followed the doctor into his office, hoping his advice would be as good as he looked. The office was just as upbeat and cheerful as the reception area. She expected to see a couch, but there was none. Unusual for a psychologist, she thought. Instead, there were several oversized chairs that looked comfortable enough to nap in. Two flanked either end of a glass coffee table. Behind the doctor’s mahogany desk were bookshelves and several framed diplomas. What she didn’t see were family pictures, which might explain the absence of a wedding band. Or not. Stop it, Dottie. Stay on mission.
Dr. Lusk led her to one of the chairs by the table. Dottie sank down into its cozy cushion, while the doctor sat down on the other chair. He had placed a small binder and pen on the table.
“You’re here because you sometimes feel depressed?” The doctor smiled warmly at her.
Dottie shifted her weight in the chair. “Not exactly.”
“You’re always depressed?” Dr. Lusk asked.
Now squirming, despite the comfortable chair, she shook her head. “Basically, I’m a happy, well-adjusted woman.”
The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t understand. Then why are you here?”