To the Last Drop

by Sandra Balzo

  ‘Cavity Searches Done Here,’ I read aloud as she rounded the corner to the restroom.

  THREE

  ‘You’re not going to take her in your car, are you?’ I asked Diane when the woman had disappeared into the bathroom.

  Ted’s office manager blew an errant gray curl off her face. ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s a stranger. And besides, she seems a little … off.’ I could hear the sound of a toilet flushing down the hallway, followed by running water.

  ‘Oh, honey,’ Diane said with a flap of her hand. ‘Between running interference between patients, creditors and high-and-mighty medical professionals—’ She broke off. ‘No offense, Maggy.’

  ‘None taken.’

  Sarah chipped in. ‘Yeah, she divorced his high-and-mighty cheating ass. But you were saying?’

  A suppressed grin at – or with – my partner. ‘In truth, I was thinking more of Doctor Swope than Doctor Thorsen. The man won’t even answer a phone, though it’s true surgeons are a breed apart in the first place. The ones I’ve worked with over the years make the kids my hubby and me foster look like mature, stable individuals.’

  ‘You’re foster parents?’ I asked.

  ‘For twenty years, though my Manny died about five years back and that was the end of that. But we adopted two ourselves – a twin brother and sister I couldn’t bear seeing separated.’ She pulled out her cell phone and punched up a photo.

  Holding hands, the twins looked to be about five or six. The girl’s widow’s peak and braids and the boy’s striped shirt and stocky build reminded me of a blonde Wednesday and Pugsley Addams staring somberly at the camera.

  ‘What cuties,’ I lied.

  Diane’s eyes grew moist. ‘They’re all grown and gone now, too.’

  Empty nest syndrome. I’d experienced it when Eric flew the coop but imagined it was more of an adjustment after having had a house full of kids.

  I opened my mouth to ask how many children they’d fostered but our non-customer exited the bathroom and came toward us, the weathered sign dragging on the tiles behind her. As it snagged in a crack and she went to free it, I whispered to Diane, ‘Separate cars.’

  The office manager didn’t answer me, but when she put her arm around the woman I did hear her say, ‘You do have a car, don’t you, dear? Because I’m afraid my Accent is full …’

  The door closed behind them.

  ‘So now we’re giving away coffee beans?’ Sarah and I were reorganizing the refrigerator wedged in the alcove between our office and storeroom.

  Or I was reorganizing. My partner was leaning against a file cabinet watching me. ‘No different than coffee drinks. Buy nine and your tenth is free.’

  ‘But the beans are where we make money. They have a much higher profit margin than our drinks.’

  ‘Which is exactly why it’s good to give away a pound every once in a while. Our cost is low and we shame them into grinding their own beans, so there’s nearly no labor involved.’

  I’d be damned if it didn’t make sense. Which meant: ‘Amy’s idea?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Sarah confirmed. ‘Buy nine pounds, get the tenth free. Not only are the local businesses like Thorsen Dental stopping in regularly but even the commuters.’

  ‘Buying for their offices on the way in to work, you mean?’

  ‘Or for home, on the return trip.’ Sarah cocked her head. ‘Got to hand it to Amy. She’s a marketing genius.’

  ‘She is.’ I set a gallon of non-fat milk on the desk to get it out of the way. ‘Sometimes I feel inadequate.’

  ‘Just sometimes?’ Sarah slapped me on the back as she slipped past me to settle in the desk chair. ‘Hey, did Diane know what that sign was about?’

  ‘The cavity search one?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t ask, but for the sake of Eric’s college fund I hope it’s not his father’s new marketing slogan.’ If so, Ted needed more help on the marketing front than I did.

  ‘I like a good pun, but even to me “cavity search” has unpleasant connotations.’ Rocking back in her chair, Sarah was picking at a fingernail.

  You think? ‘And it certainly wasn’t a professionally made sign.’ Satisfied with my reorganization, I turned to retrieve the gallon of milk. Sarah’s crossed, coffee-flecked loafers were perched on the desk next to it. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No, go ahead.’ Her feet stayed on the desk and her attention on the fingernail.

  I didn’t bother to roll my eyes. Sarah wouldn’t notice and, besides, the plastic milk gallon was sealed. I slid it onto the refrigerator shelf and closed the door.

  Sarah was gnawing at her nail now. ‘Maybe she’s an employee demonstrating for higher wages.’

  ‘Did you see her teeth? Not exactly a walking advertisement for a dental office. Besides, I’ve never seen her before. She can’t be a new hire because Diane has been working for Ted since April and she certainly didn’t seem to know her either. Not to mention that the woman would know where her own office was located.’ A new thought struck me. ‘Do you think this has something to do with Rachel?’

  ‘Rachel?’ Sarah looked up.

  ‘You know, cavity search? Like they do in prison? Which is where she is.’

  ‘Interesting thought.’ Apparently giving up on both the conversation and the fingernail, Sarah stretched and stood up. ‘Time for me to leave. I’m opening tomorrow, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Which meant I could sleep in. And alone, since Frank would likely – please, God – choose my son’s bed over mine for the next couple of nights.

  I loved Eric and I’d come to love the sometimes smelly, always hairy sheepdog that he’d had left with me when he’d gone off to college. What I didn’t care for was trying to worm myself out from under whatever furry body part the canine draped over me during the night.

  The side door slammed. I stuck my head into the hallway to see a delivery man backing into it with three stacked boxes on a dollie.

  ‘Our order from Wicker Place, thank God,’ I said to Sarah. ‘We should have started assembling the gift baskets a week ago.’ And would have if I hadn’t forgotten to place the order for the baskets.

  Next year, Amy’s job.

  ‘Gift baskets?’ Sarah was already shrugging into her coat.

  ‘We make fifty percent of our annual profits between Thanksgiving and Christmas.’ I stabbed a thumb over my shoulder toward the overstuffed storeroom. ‘Haven’t you noticed the extra inventory of beans and mugs and such? Which reminds me—’

  ‘Maggy?’ Amy called from the hallway. ‘Do you want to check this order before I sign for it?’

  ‘Go ahead and take care of it.’ Sarah slipped past me. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘See ya,’ I said before turning to the driver. ‘It’s quarter to seven. You’re working late.’

  ‘From now right through Christmas.’

  ‘’Tis the season, I guess.’ I checked the delivery, meaning I made sure the outside of all three boxes read, ‘Twenty-four wicker baskets.’

  The driver handed me the signing screen. ‘Winter is long enough. I don’t see why people need to rush to get there.’

  I, for one, was not in a hurry for the first snowfall – especially since the last one had been in May.

  Yes, May.

  And, though I imagined drivers earned overtime, it probably didn’t make up for the long hours and the fact they didn’t have time to so much as warm themselves on the holiday glow before it was extinguished under a barrage of shipped returns.

  Speaking of warming … ‘Aren’t you freezing?’

  ‘You bet.’ He rubbed at the goose flesh on his thigh. ‘No long pants until the day after Thanksgiving.’

  ‘Is that company policy?’ I asked, thinking it was just short of inhumane treatment here in the tundra.

  ‘Nah, I’m the only idiot.’ He waved at the autumn leaves Amy had made out of orange, yellow and brown construction paper and tacked up to our menu board. ‘I’m glad to see you, at least, are still celebrating fall
.’

  I scribbled something resembling my signature and handed the screen back to him. ‘We sell a lot of autumn drinks so we don’t want to plunge right through pumpkin in order to get to peppermint.’

  He pulled his gaze away from the menu board. ‘You have pumpkin lattes?’

  ‘Sure do.’ Eggnog lattes were already on our menu, too, though I thought that might be too Christmassy for the principled, if goose-pimpled, driver. ‘Would you like one?’

  As the man left with his pumpkin latte the front door opened, sending a cold wind howling through the store.

  Folding my arms over my chest for warmth, I rounded the corner to the front of the store and saw Lynne Swope.

  ‘Lynne,’ I said to the financial planner. ‘Is something wrong?’

  The check was bogus is what I was thinking, the UP attorney having absconded with my $50,000 in singles.

  ‘Oh no, I’m just here for the book club.’ Lynne draped her trench coat over the back of a chair at the long table. ‘I meant to tell you I’d see you later but we were busy discussing your … brother.’ She glanced over at our barista behind the counter.

  ‘Not to worry,’ I said, thinking the financial advisor was concerned about confidentiality. ‘Amy knows where all my – and now my brother’s – skeletons are buried. Have the two of you met?’

  ‘We have,’ Amy said brightly, dumping milk from a gallon jug into the metal frothing pitcher. ‘Your usual triple-shot, two-sugar latte, Lynne?’

  ‘That would be wonderful. Thank you, Amy,’ Lynne said. ‘Are you staying for the meeting, Maggy? Mary practically forced me to come last time but I have to admit it’s a great way to meet people.’

  And build the business, as both Amy and Sarah had pointed out to me. But the last thing I wanted to do was spend more hours at the coffeehouse than I already did. ‘I don’t get much time to read these days,’ I said a little sheepishly as the bells signaled another member had entered.

  ‘It’s only one book a month.’ Lynne Swope held out a hardcover of Gone Girl. ‘Have you read it?’

  ‘No,’ I admitted, feeling obliged to take it and page through. Brookhills County Library was stamped inside the front cover.

  ‘You’re probably the only person on earth who hasn’t?’ Mary, the new arrival, offered. ‘Or seen the movie?’

  They weren’t questions. Lynne’s sister Mary had the habit of ending declarative sentences with an audible question mark. Kind of a Valley Girl? At thirty-something?

  ‘Who else is in the group?’ I didn’t intend to join, I just wanted to get them off my back.

  ‘Well, there’s the three of us,’ the librarian said, nodding at Amy and Lynne. ‘And Laurel?’

  ‘She’ll be here.’ Amy set the latte she’d just made in front of Lynne. ‘And before you ask, Jacque is coming, too, so I did my part.’

  Laurel Birmingham was Brookhills town clerk and Jacque Oui was the owner of Schultz’s Market and Seafood. He was also Amy’s boyfriend.

  The tattooed, pierced barista and the pseudo-suave French storeowner/fishmonger were an unlikely couple. But then people probably said that about Pavlik and me, too.

  ‘Your part?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re trying to get more men involved?’ Mary said. ‘How about William, Lynne? Is he coming?’

  ‘So he said.’ Lynne took a sip of her latte and sighed in appreciation.

  ‘Good, I’m looking forward to meeting him,’ I said, meaning it. I was still amazed that the man had joined Ted’s practice in May and this was the first I knew about it. Though it said something about the wisdom of hiring Diane in April and just in time to deal with the new partner. The woman was an organizational dream. And if that meant I was left out of the information loop, so be it. There was probably something healthy about not knowing everything that was happening in your ex-spouse’s life.

  The door opened again and a man with dark hair graying at the temples entered. He was wearing neatly pressed khakis and just a red golf shirt despite the blustery autumn weather. His face lit up when he saw Lynne. ‘Hello, my love.’

  Lynne turned her cheek to receive his kiss. ‘William, I’d like you to meet Maggy. She’s Ted’s—’

  ‘Former wife, of course,’ William said, holding out his hand. ‘Ted speaks highly of you.’

  ‘That’s because I didn’t take his pension,’ I said, extending my hand.

  ‘Perhaps so.’ William enveloped my paw in both of his like I was the meat in his hand sandwich. ‘But he does nonetheless.’

  I freed myself, ostensibly to point toward our barista by way of introductions. ‘Have you met Amy Caprese?’

  ‘I haven’t had the pleasure.’ Swope took her hand in the same two-fisted embrace. ‘Caprese? Is that Italian?’

  ‘On my dad’s side,’ Amy said, smiling up at him. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

  I didn’t hear his answer because a familiar voice rang out, ‘Lucy, I’m home!’

  Before I could fully turn I was caught up in a hug from my tall, sandy-haired son. Giving back as good as I got, I smiled past Eric’s shoulder at the tall young woman coming up behind him. ‘And you must be Ginny?’

  ‘I am, Mrs Thorsen,’ she said, peeking out from under a fringe of dark hair.

  ‘Just call me Maggy,’ I told her. ‘You two have good timing. Your mother, father and aunt are all here, Ginny.’ I tugged my son to one side so his new friend could see the table beyond. Lynne was already hopping up, but William reached their daughter first with a bear hug that matched and raised Eric’s.

  Ginny just stood there, arms at her side, looking self-conscious at the display of parental affection. ‘Hi.’

  ‘You’re embarrassing the girl?’ Mary said, wiggling her fingers in greeting to her niece.

  ‘How’d you know we were here?’ Lynne asked, taking her turn.

  ‘Eric wanted to show me his mom’s coffee shop. I didn’t know I’d see you two here.’

  ‘I bet,’ her father said with a wink. ‘Did you drive the Lexus down?’

  Ginny nodded. ‘I told you Eric’s van is in the shop.’

  ‘Well, let’s not talk about that now.’ William squeezed his daughter’s shoulder. ‘We’ll catch up later.’

  ‘Can I get anybody else coffee?’ Amy asked. ‘Or a nice hot specialty drink like a pumpkin latte on this chilly autumn night?’

  That’s my girl, I thought. Push the higher profit espresso drinks.

  ‘Black coffee would be terrific,’ William said, settling into a chair.

  ‘Regular or decaf?’

  ‘High test.’

  ‘You won’t sleep,’ his wife warned.

  ‘I need to go back to the office tonight anyway,’ the oral surgeon said as Amy set a white ceramic mug in front of him and then filled it with steaming coffee. ‘I told you that, Lynne.’

  Seeming to sense tension between her parents, Ginny cleared her throat. ‘So, Dad – did you ever get that desk you wanted?’

  ‘I did.’ William seemed delighted his daughter was taking an interest in his new office. ‘Come by after you’ve dropped Eric off at his dad’s and I’ll show you what I’ve done to the place.’

  ‘But you said you’d stay for the book club.’ Lynne’s bottom lip was jutting out in a pout.

  ‘I can’t come now anyway,’ Ginny said hastily. ‘I’m going to Aunt Mary’s for pizza with Caitlin.’

  ‘Cousins’ dinner. Don’t you two get into any trouble,’ Mary teased.

  ‘Then we’ll do it tomorrow.’ Ignoring the cup handle, William picked up his coffee by circling his hands around it.

  Like the sandwich handshake, it seemed a practiced move. I started to warn him about what his hands were apparently too manly to feel: coffee is hot. God knows we didn’t need a McDonald’s-type lawsuit for scalding somebody. Especially a surgeon, who presumably valued his hands.

  But Swope just took a careful sip and then pulled back, wisely leaving the coffee to cool.

  ‘I thought Te
d was working this Saturday,’ Lynne said.

  ‘He is, but we have some personnel issues I want to discuss and it seemed a good time.’ Another wink, this one directed at me. ‘Your ex-hubby has agreed to let me take over the staffing.’

  Lynne glanced sideways at him. ‘Professionals or office personnel?’

  ‘Well, some might argue that all should be considered professional, my dear. No one likes an elitist.’

  Lynne’s face reddened and she opened her mouth, but her husband gave her no opportunity to defend herself against the implication.

  ‘I’d honestly like to go for a younger, trendier feel at Thorsen Dental. Dress up the place. Ted had already hired an office manager when I started, but—’

  ‘Actually, I hired Diane,’ I interrupted. The matronly office manager should apparently count her blessings she’d slipped in under the wire before William turned the place ‘upmarket.’ ‘Is she too long in the tooth for you?’

  A deprecating smile – probably one I deserved. ‘A dental joke – very clever. But to Diane’s credit, she’s quite the worker and a technological marvel. Networked our computers and instituted document sharing. Computerized our prescription system. Even enhanced the music in the waiting room.’

  Whatever it took to drown out the whine of the drill. And the screaming.

  ‘My philosophy,’ William went on to the group at large, ‘is that clients are willing to pay a premium if the dental procedure is not only painless but even enjoyable from the time they are greeted until they leave with their—’

  As I was contemplating what an ‘enjoyable’ dental procedure entailed, Eric touched me on the shoulder. ‘Place looks good, Mom. And a book club is a great idea.’

  ‘It was Amy’s,’ I admitted. But I was thinking about something William had said and, passive-aggressive person that I am, I backed into it. ‘Frank is going to be delirious to see you. How long will you be home? Until Monday?’

  ‘Yeah, but,’ Eric shifted feet, ‘I kind of promised Dad I’d stay with him this trip. You know, get to know the baby and all.’

  Unreasonably, I felt tears rise. It made perfect sense that Eric would bunk at Ted’s place this weekend, but it hadn’t even occurred to me until William mentioned Ginny dropping Eric off at his dad’s. ‘Of course. That’ll be great.’