She made notes on the two pink slips and put them in her out box so Jane could file them in the patient charts. Then she saw the name on the third slip: Will Kennedy. Was this about yesterday?
She'd expected a hard sell from Will's parents. Come back to church. Get right with God. Instead, Pastor and Mrs. Kennedy had seemed genuinely glad to see her, making no mention of the way she'd pulled away from the church. Will had confined his remarks to reminiscences of the good times they'd had in high school. He steered clear of any mention of how they drifted apart after they went offto different colleges. She'd started medical school, he'd begun law school, and their lives had diverged even further.
She should return his call. There was an unfamiliar fluttering in her stomach as she pulled the phone toward her, lifted the receiver, and punched in the number. To her surprise, the next voice she heard was Will's.
"Will Kennedy."
"Will, this is Cathy. I expected to get your secretary."
"This is my private line. I hope you'll write it down and use it in the future. After hours, I forward it to my cell phone. I don't want to miss a call from you. Let's not lose touch again."
She felt the same shiver she'd experienced the first time Will had asked her to a high school dance. No doubt about it. Once he'd recognized her, Will's attention at the crash site went beyond being a Good Samaritan. Maybe he'd gotten over the way she'd hurt him in the past. A part of her was thrilled at the prospect of rekindling their relationship. But then the little voice in her head whispered, You can't trust a man. You can't trust anyone.
Will's voice cut into her thoughts. "Cathy, did you hear me?"
Cathy pulled Will's business card from beneath the edge of her blotter. She turned it over and transcribed the number from the pink slip to the back of the card. "Thanks. I'm writing it down right now."
"Good."
"Now what's up?" Cathy asked.
"First of all, I had a wonderful time with you yesterday. My folks told me to invite you for Sunday lunch anytime you're free."
"I enjoyed it too."
"But let me get to the business at hand. After you were in my office last week, I went down to the bank and talked with Ella Mae. She called me first thing this morning to report. I don't know how she did it, and I wasn't about to ask, but she talked with one of the higher-ups in your insurance company. Apparently, she was pretty convincing. The deal she worked out is that the insurance company and the bank's liability insurer will split the payment for the damages to your car. You'll be getting both checks within a couple of weeks."
"Will, that's wonderful."
"There's more. I'm a full-service attorney, after all."
Cathy struggled to process the news. "You're amazing. What else have you done?"
"I called James Wood Motors and talked with James. If you'll go by the dealership sometime this week and pick out a car, he'll apply the total of the two checks you're getting against the price. That'll be a pretty hefty down payment on your new one. And he'll forgive the charges on the rental car."
"Better and better. Thanks so much."
"James promised me he'd give you a great deal, but be sure to let me see the papers before you sign anything. He kind of owes me a favor or two and I'm not above asking him to sweeten the deal even more."
It was as though someone had piped pure oxygen into the room. Cathy's head was clearer. The tension in her neck and shoulders eased. Maybe things were looking up. She had a fleeting thought that apparently everyone in Dainger owed Will a favor. She'd have to keep that in mind.
"Thanks," she said. "I believe you mentioned that my having lunch with you would cover your retainer. How much do I really owe you for this?"
"For talking with Ella Mae, you couldn't afford my services. But I'll settle for another lunch next Sunday."
Cathy didn't hesitate. And it wasn't merely the thought of Dora Kennedy's fried chicken that made the decision easy."Of course." Then Will's comment about Ella Mae registered."But why was it such a chore to talk with this woman?"
"Because she feels it's her duty to make a play for every man she sees. I think it's sort of a reflex. But maybe you already know that."
Cathy wondered what she'd missed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Why would I know?"
"Oh." That single syllable from Will brought a picture into Cathy's mind: Will, his cheeks reddening and his hands moving to cover his mouth after saying something he shouldn't. She'd seen it dozens of times when they were teenagers.
"Will, what did you mean?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Hey, I'm due in court in fifteen minutes. Got to run. I'll call you later."
Cathy hung up the phone just as Jane stuck her head through the door. "Your first patient is here."
Outside the exam room, Cathy looked at the name neatly lettered in heavy black letters on the tab of the thin manila folder: Ella Mae Mercer. What were the odds?
5
When Cathy opened the door to the exam room, she thought the woman sitting there would be what one might get after a call to central casting to order up a bank executive. Modelthin, perfectly done makeup, straight black hair cut short and expertly styled. The woman wore a tailored Gucci suit. Glasses with frames by a name designer did little to hide calculating green eyes. No doubt about it. Ella Mae Mercer's presence was intimidating.
"Ms. Mercer? I'm Dr. Cathy Sewell. How can I help you?"
The woman rose gracefully from the straight chair in the corner of the examining room, unfolding her thin frame like a carpenter's rule and extending a hand with rings on three fingers. "Please, it's Ella Mae. I feel as though I've known you for ages, after hearing all about you from your father."
"That's nice to know. And let me thank you for what you've arranged about paying for the damage to my car."
Ella Mae waved offthe thanks as though it were a fly."Don't make me out to be altruistic. Will made it plain to me that if I couldn't make this work, he was prepared to file suit against both the bank and the insurance company. And, unfortunately, I could see that we were at fault."
"I still appreciate what you did. How did you make it work out?"
Ella Mae ticked offthe points on her manicured fingers."I was able to convince your insurance company that, if Will filed suit against them, they might end up being liable for the whole amount. After all, they'd failed to notify you in a timely fashion that you were into the grace period. Of course, I conveniently neglected to remind them that the initial error was ours."
"But that's-"
"It's called business, dear. Anyway, we carry liability coverage, and I was able to negotiate a settlement where our insurance carrier would share the burden. Long story short, you'll get two checks that will cover the damages. You'll sign a waiver, and everyone's happy." She shrugged. "Besides, I owed Will a favor."
Cathy's first impulse was to follow up on that remark. Had Will dated this woman? Was he still seeing her? And why should Cathy care, anyway? But she found that she did. Nevertheless, she moved on with her questions.
The new patient history form showed a chief complaint of "prescription refill." Cathy's eyes strayed over the rest of the form. Medications? Just a few: vitamins, hormones, and a commonly prescribed tranquilizer. One guess which of those Ella Mae wanted refilled.
"So how can I help you?" Cathy asked.
"I'm looking for a family doctor, and I believe I'd be more comfortable with a female, especially one who seems young enough to be knowledgeable about modern techniques."
"Fair enough. Can we ask your previous doctor for copies of your medical records? That way, I won't repeat tests needlessly, and it will help me get a better feel for your general health."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. "No, let's start fresh."
"Why?"
Ella Mae ignored the question, and Cathy decided this woman was an old hand at the maneuver. "Why don't we do this? I'll make an appointment to come back for a full physical examination, including all the
tests you might want, but it will have to be in a couple of weeks. This is a hectic time at the bank right now. That's one reason I'm here today. I need a new prescription for this." She held out an empty amber pill bottle bearing a label from a pharmacy in a neighboring town. "I haven't taken them in some time, but in the past they've helped me through some stressful periods, and I need them right now."
Cathy turned the bottle slowly in her hands, recognizing the name of the tranquilizer Ella Mae had listed among her medications. "I'm hesitant to prescribe these without any knowledge of your medical status, Ms. Mercer."
"Oh, don't give me the doctor-speak." Ella Mae's smile was obviously meant to take any sting out of the words. "I know that these are commonly prescribed, there are few if any contraindications to their proper use, they don't interact with the hormones and vitamins I take, and they're metabolized by the liver." She gestured at her spare frame. "I don't drink. I don't do drugs. And do I look like someone in liver failure? See any bulging belly? Are the whites of my eyes jaundiced?"
Cathy resisted the urge to argue. The woman was probably right. There really wasn't any medical contraindication to giving her a reasonable number of the pills, contingent on her return for a full physical within a couple of weeks. And Ella Mae had been more than helpful in resolving Cathy's problem with the insurance company. Cathy's mentor during her family practice residency had been clear about what to do at a time like this-a time when it wasn't prudent to put up a large fight to win a small battle.
Without further argument, Cathy reached for a prescription pad and carefully wrote out the prescription. "I'm giving you two weeks' worth. That's enough to allow you time to schedule a full physical examination. And please call if you experience any untoward side effects."
"May I have that bottle back? I use the empty ones to hold buttons."
After Ella Mae left, Cathy stood leaning against the examining table for a long moment. The woman didn't strike her as the type who saved buttons. No, she wanted that bottle back because she didn't want anyone else to see the information on it. But what had startled Cathy wasn't the name of the medication, nor the fact that Ella Mae had driven to the next town to have the prescription filled. What got Cathy's attention was the name of the prescribing doctor: Nolan Sewell.
Josh leaned forward in his chair and said, "Let's talk about what brought you back to Dainger."
Cathy squirmed, not because her own chair was uncomfortable, but because Josh's question brought back unpleasant memories. It was as though someone had given an extra tug at the shroud of depression that had been wrapped about her for the past several months. She reached for the carafe and tumbler on the end table, poured half a glass, and drank.
"Take your time." Josh appeared in no hurry, but apparently this was the direction their session would take today, and no amount of stalling would change that. "Tell me about Bob."
"Robert," Cathy corrected automatically. "Robert Edward Newell. Never Bob. Bob would be common, and Robert would rather die than be common." She swallowed. "Robert's a year older than me. We met when he was in the last year of an ophthalmology residency. I was completing my family practice training. We were at Parkland Hospital at the same time. I fell for him immediately. He was absolutely charming. His family had money, and the way he dressed and acted showed it. He was sophisticated and self-assured. I felt… I don't know. I guess I felt secure with him."
"And you became engaged."
"Yes. It seemed like love at first sight. We decided to get married in July, after we finished our residencies. He planned to set up a practice in Dallas and draw from the upper crust in Highland Park. I was slated to join a multispecialty group in North Dallas, but then I got an invitation to stay on at the medical school as Assistant Professor in the Family Practice Department."
"How did Robert feel about that?"
"He was thrilled. A wife on the med school faculty. A society practice. It was perfect for him."
"So what changed your mind?"
Cathy thought back to that day, and she felt her stomach clench like a fist. "Robert wanted me to move in with him. At first I was naive enough to think he just wanted me to save money on rent, but he had more in mind than that. I said no."
"Why?"
"Guilt? Fear? I'm not sure. My parents made sure I attended church as a child, and I guess a lot of it rubbed off on me. It didn't seem right. But more than that, I didn't want sex to be the only reason we were together. I couldn't let our marriage start out that way."
"How did he react?" Josh asked.
"I thought he accepted it. In retrospect, maybe he just made other plans."
Josh displayed a perfect poker face. No judgment, no taking sides. His expression invited her to continue.
"One night I dropped by Robert's apartment unannounced. I'd had a wonderful day and wanted to share the stories with him. I rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. His car was outside, so I knew he was home. I rang again. Then I knocked… knocked again… and again. Finally the door opened." She squeezed her eyes shut, but the film continued to run in the projector of her mind. "But it wasn't Robert. It was Carrie, one of the nurses in the Parkland operating room. She had on the robe I'd given Robert for Christmas. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smeared. I barged past her and saw Robert coming out of the bedroom, buttoning his shirt."
"And?"
Cathy opened her eyes and looked at Josh. "He said, 'This isn't what you think.' But it was. I knew exactly what it was."
Josh nodded a fraction of an inch.
Cathy finished the water in her glass. "I pulled offmy engagement ring and threw it on the floor. Then I went back to my apartment and cried all night. The next morning I went to the head of the family practice department and told him I couldn't stay in Dallas."
"Did you hear from Robert?"
"He called, but I wouldn't answer. He sent me flowers, and I threw them in the garbage. He wrote letters, but I wrote 'Return to Sender' on the envelopes and dropped them back in the mail."
Cathy leaned back, exhausted. Why did Josh insist on dragging out all these hurtful memories? Her father, Carter, Robert. She tried to make her mind go blank. She wanted to escape, but instead the synapses clicked to make the awful connection. Self-assured, larger than life, someone she could depend on. And they'd let her down. Every one of them.
She looked up at Josh, and it was as though he could read her mind-see the way she'd connected the dots.
He uncrossed his legs and stood. "Think about that. I'll see you next week."
Cathy was surprised at the name on the chart of the next patient. Could this be Dr. Gladstone's wife? Cathy always got a bit antsy when treating the family of another doctor. There was a saying in medicine: complications only happen to nice patients and doctors' families. She hoped it wouldn't hold true here. She took a deep breath and opened the door to the treatment room. "Mrs. Gladstone, it's a pleasure to meet you. How may I help you?"
The older woman sitting in the patient chair beside the examination table was plainly but neatly dressed. Her silver hair was perfectly styled. The lenses of her rimless glasses had a slight pink tint, but that didn't hide the worry in her eyes.
"I've been having some female problems. Dr. Baker has been my doctor for years, but he doesn't do any gynecology. Besides that… " She managed to look both demure and embarrassed. "Besides that, I've always thought I'd be more comfortable with a woman doctor."
Cathy was a bit unsettled that her gender apparently had figured into the decision more than her professional abilities. Nevertheless, she simply nodded and began taking Mrs. Gladstone's history. "Why don't you tell me specifically what symptoms you've been having and when they started?"
Just then, Jane tapped on the open door. "Excuse me, Doctor, but you have an emergency call."
Cathy excused herself and hurried to her office. She punched the blinking button on her phone. "Dr. Sewell."
"Doctor, this is Glenna Dunn in the ER. Your patient, Milton Nix, i
s here. He's complaining of weakness and nausea. His pulse is irregular, and his blood pressure is all over the place."
Cathy's mind kicked into full diagnostic mode. This could represent any one of several things, some of them extremely serious. "Draw blood for electrolytes, sugar, BUN. And get a digitalis level. Do an EKG. I'm on my way."
On her way back to the exam room, Cathy asked Jane to get Milton Nix's chart for her. "Mrs. Gladstone, I'm terribly sorry. I have an emergency. Would you like to wait, or can we reschedule your visit?"
"It's all right. I quite understand about emergencies. You'll never know how many dinners I've eaten alone because of them. It will be fine to-"
"Jane," Cathy called. "Would you schedule Mrs. Gladstone back as soon as possible? Tomorrow if it works for her. A new patient exam including a pelvic. I have to go."
In less than five minutes, Cathy strode into the ER of Summers County General Hospital. A nurse intercepted her and introduced herself as Glenna Dunn. "He's in here," she said, directing Cathy into Treatment Room One. Cathy hesitated at the door, recalling the last time she'd been in this room. But this time she was in charge.
Milton Nix lay sweating on a gurney, his shirt off. An IV ran in his right arm, and a blood pressure cuffencircled his left. A cardiac monitor above his head showed a green line of complexes racing across the screen.
A buxom bottle-blonde, presumably Nix's wife, leaned over him, fanning him with a magazine. She was younger than her husband, but makeup and expensive clothes made it difficult for Cathy to tell just how much. She guessed there'd been a number of nips and tucks in the woman's past.
"Mr. Nix, tell me about it." Cathy took the clipboard from Glenna and scanned the scant information. "When did you get sick? What are you feeling?"
Mrs. Nix opened her mouth, but Nix silenced her with a look. "I've been offmy feed for a week or so," he said. "No appetite. Food didn't taste good. Today I vomited several times. And I seem to be getting weaker all the time."
"Anything else?"
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