by Anne Canadeo
Framed prints were hung at intervals along the walls, and an elaborately carved wooden staircase led the way to a second floor.
“This is a big place,” Maggie said. “Treatment here must be costly.”
“It is, but it costs a lot to run a health center like this, believe me.” Dana’s voice was nearly a whisper as she added, “Rose is treated by both Dr. Curtis and Dr. Riley. Luckily, they’ve taken her on practically for free. Partly as a favor to me, and partly because Dr. Riley is interested in her case. If his treatment protocol can turn her condition around such a long time after the injury, it will be truly ground breaking. ”
“I see,” Maggie replied. So Rose was sort of a guinea pig for Dr. Riley? Maggie could see the benefit and also the downside of that arrangement. But Dana seemed fine with it, she noticed. Dana understood these advanced treatments, and Maggie knew she wouldn’t allow a hair on Rose’s head to be harmed. Maggie was sure of that.
At the far end of the space, near the staircase, she saw a small reception desk. A young man in a white lab coat sat typing on a keyboard. He looked up and smiled at Dana as she signed a ledger.
When Dana was done, she said, “Let’s go upstairs. I hope Tim and Emily are around. I want to introduce you.”
Maggie followed her to the staircase, thick carpet muffling their steps. They soon arrived at the second floor, and Maggie stared down a long hall.
The walls were painted the same soothing shade, with nubby brown carpet covering the floor. Instead of framed prints, black plastic bins that held folders hung beside each of the dark wooden doors.
More like it, she thought. Definitely more medical looking.
“Offices and exam rooms are on this floor,” Dana explained. “The new building has a few multipurpose rooms, where we hold group sessions, and there’s a special gym for physical therapy. We’ll go over there later. You can decide which room might be best for a class. I need to pick up some files from a colleague. Can you wait here a minute? He might be with a patient.”
“Take your time. I have my knitting.”
Dana smiled. “Of course you do.”
Dana disappeared through the first door on the left. Maggie spotted a bench about halfway down the hall and took a seat. She took out her knitting and started to work. She was making a lightweight pullover for Charles in a basket-stitch pattern. She’d knit Charles some small gifts, a scarf or two and heavy socks. But this was the first large-scale knitting project she’d ever started for him, and she wanted it to come out perfectly. She’d chosen a slate-blue shade of yarn, medium weight, mostly cotton with some stretch, which she knew would be a good thickness for the spring weather or even a cool summer night on the boat.
The basket stitch was very useful and created a wonderful texture. She intended to teach her friends the stitch sooner or later. She would have shown them at the last meeting, except for the Pipers needing a beginner lesson. But the right time would come to fit it in. For every stitch there is a season, she mused.
She heard quick footsteps approaching and looked up, but it was not Dana. A young woman wearing a white lab coat strode purposefully down the hall, a sheaf of file folders tucked under one arm.
Maggie looked back at her knitting. She didn’t think she had even been noticed, until the woman stopped abruptly just before passing her by.
She looked down at Maggie. Bright blue eyes framed by round tortoiseshell glasses gave her an owlish look. Her blond hair was parted in the middle and pulled back in a clip.
“Can I help you?” Her tone did not sound helpful exactly, more like she wanted to know what Maggie was doing there.
Maggie smiled and took a moment to read the name tag clipped to the pocket of the young woman’s lab coat. BETH DUNCAN, PH.D., RESEARCH ASSISTANT.
“I’m waiting for a friend, Dr. Haeger. She just ducked into her office for a moment.”
Beth Duncan leaned back, seeming satisfied with the explanation. Without saying more, she continued on her way, then stopped at a door a short distance beyond the bench. The door was partly open, Maggie noticed, but she knocked on the trim anyway.
“Can you go over the staffing schedule now, Dr. Curtis? I know you need to leave soon.”
“Not now, Beth. I’ll catch up with you before I go.” The voice was curt and dismissive.
Maggie saw Beth’s frown, but she turned on her heel and proceeded to the end of the hall, then disappeared down the stairs.
Maggie began knitting again. Voices drifted out of the open door. A man and a woman talking in casual, intimate tones. Maggie focused on her stitching but couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.
“I’d wish you luck, but I know you never need it. When will you be back?”
“Wednesday night,” the woman said.
“With a big, fat check, I hope. Or the promise of one,” the man countered.
“I’ll do my best. We can’t count on it. I hope you know that, Tim. If the grant had been renewed, we wouldn’t be in this position.” The woman’s tone was accusatory. She had called the man Tim. Was Dr. Riley in that room?
“Back to that again? It’s so unfair to blame me. You know that.” He suddenly sounded angry. “Come on. Admit it. You love to be the rainmaker around here. The superhero,” he added in a warmer, cajoling tone.
“And I do it so well, don’t I?”
“Absolutely. I know how persuasive you can be, Emily. Believe me.”
It was Emily Curtis and Tim Riley, the partners of the health center, Maggie decided. She heard Dr. Curtis sigh, but she didn’t answer.
“Call me when you get to the hotel. Let me know you’re okay.”
“Will you pick up the phone?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have a meeting with Holly Piper this afternoon. What’s that about?”
“I do? Oh, right . . . How did you know about that?”
Dr. Curtis sounded amused. “Is it a secret?”
“Not at all. She has some questions about Rose’s medication.”
“Questions she can’t ask over the phone?”
“I don’t know. She’s picking up Rose later and asked if I had a few minutes to see her.” His tone was matter of fact. “Is that a problem?”
Maggie recalled Holly had told them she had a meeting at three with Dr. Riley . . . but hadn’t she said that he had initiated the appointment?
“Not at all. Unless you’re lying to me. Again. That would definitely be a problem. I’ve told you before, Tim. Don’t take me for a fool. This place wouldn’t last five minutes without me. I think you know that.”
Dr. Curtis sounded angry. The sort of pent-up anger that could explode without warning. Maggie held her breath, waiting to hear his reaction.
“You give me too much credit, Emily. We wouldn’t last two minutes without you.” Surprisingly, his voice was calm and affectionate, the tone one might use to soothe a child who’s had a bad dream. “As for Holly Piper . . . Okay, maybe she has a little crush on me. That ‘doctor thing’ women get sometimes? It’s flattering. I’ll admit it. But you have no reason at all to feel threatened by her.”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll text her right now and cancel.” Maggie heard the sound of tapping on a phone keyboard. “Here’s the message, see? I’m hitting SEND.”
Maggie waited again to hear Dr. Curtis’s response. He was obviously trying to placate her. Was she persuaded?
“Do whatever you like. If I find out you’re lying, I’m done. I’m not kidding this time.”
Maggie heard the sound of footsteps, and Dr. Curtis swept out of the room.
Dr. Riley followed, rushing to keep up. “Emily . . . for goodness’ sakes. Don’t leave like this. Let me walk you to your car.”
Maggie was eager to match faces to the voices but didn’t want to stare. She did manage to peer up as Dr. Curtis swept by, her gaze fixed straight ahead.
Emily Curtis was petite but looked charged
with power and energy—or was it simply the fury of a woman often scorned? She marched down the long hall, the strap of a black briefcase slung over one shoulder, as she tugged along a compact silver suitcase, the expensive high-tech kind Maggie had often eyed in catalogs, though she had had no plans to travel lately.
Her thick, dark hair was cut to her chin in a sleek bob and parted on the side. She brushed it back impatiently, then adjusted large, stylish glasses. Her tailored outfit was deceptively simple and unmistakably expensive—a black blazer with a pale blue silk blouse underneath, charcoal-gray pants with short black boots. Pearl earrings and a dash of red lipstick were finishing touches to a sophisticated professional look.
Dr. Curtis glanced at Maggie, surprised to find a woman on the bench outside her office, knitting no less. Maggie thought she was going to say something, but she paused only a moment to hitch the strap of her shoulder bag, then rushed forward again.
Dr. Riley had caught up, matching her pace, but Dr. Curtis did not acknowledge him.
“Let me take your bag. That looks heavy,” he said.
Dr. Riley was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and dark red hair. Thick brows emphasized large brown eyes, fixed on Emily with a humble, obsequious gaze.
Maggie guessed he was somewhere in his early forties but was the type of man who would always have a boyish look and dressed the part, as well, in a brown tweed sports jacket over a blue oxford cloth shirt and jeans.
A door down the hall opened, and Dana appeared and walked towards Maggie. “I’m so sorry. That took much longer than I expected.”
Before Maggie could reply, Dana had turned to look at the two doctors. “Emily . . . Tim . . . do you have a minute?”
The bickering pair had almost reached the staircase. Dr. Curtis turned to answer.
“I’m just on my way out. But sure . . . What’s up?”
“This is my good friend Maggie Messina,” Dana said as she and Maggie walked toward them. “I wanted to introduce you. She’s going to assist with my knitting idea. She gave Rose her first lesson last night.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” Dr. Curtis said.
Dr. Riley met Maggie’s gaze with a warm smile. “How did Rose like knitting?”
“She didn’t have much trouble at all. Maggie started her on a very simple technique,” Dana said.
“She’s doing very well,” Maggie added. “She’s almost finished a small project. A dog collar.”
“That sounds promising.” Dr. Curtis looked pleased. “I’ll be in Boston the next few days, Dana. But we can talk more when I get back next week.”
“Another conference?” Dana asked.
“Not exactly. I have appointments with foundations that might fund our work.”
Maggie assumed that much from what she’d overheard, but it was interesting to hear the point clarified.
“An important mission. Have a good trip,” Dana said.
“Thanks. I hope it is a good trip. I’ll be in touch when I get back.” Dr. Curtis looked at Maggie. “Nice to meet you, Maggie.”
“Same here, Dr. Curtis. Safe travels.” She had lovely eyes, Maggie noticed, with an unexpected softness in their gray-blue light.
As Dr. Curtis and Dr. Riley started down the steps, Beth Duncan met them on her way up. She seemed even more stressed than the first time Maggie had seen her.
“Dr. Curtis, I’m glad I caught you. I still have a few questions about the schedule.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry, it slipped my mind. Walk me to my car, Beth. We’ll sort it out.” Dr. Curtis glanced at her business partner. “I’ll see you next week,” she said over her shoulder.
“Right.” He didn’t try to follow them, and once the two women were out of sight, he walked back up the steps toward Dana and Maggie. “It’s always an emergency with Beth. Sometimes I think it’s just attention-seeking behavior.”
Dana frowned. Maggie could tell the criticism didn’t sit well with her. “Beth has a lot of responsibilities and she’s still working on her degree. I think she’s doing a good job.”
“You’re right. That was unfair . . . and unkind. She’s very conscientious. We should encourage more of that.” He smiled and nodded, looking admonished. He glanced at his watch. “Sorry, I have to run. It was nice to meet you, Maggie. Hope to see you again soon.”
“I look forward to it,” Maggie replied.
She and Dana headed downstairs and, once outside, started off toward the new building. Dana started to tell her more about the center and the cutting-edge therapies offered to clients. But Maggie’s head was filled with questions about the conversation she’d overheard between the two doctors. Should she tell Dana? Not just to gossip but because Holly’s name had come up?
Who had really asked for the meeting this afternoon? Tim Riley or Holly? Dr. Riley had claimed Holly had asked to see him, and he had sounded very sure of that. But Holly had stated very clearly that Dr. Riley had asked for the appointment. What did she have to gain by lying? Unless what Dr. Riley had said was true—that Holly had a crush on him—and she didn’t want anyone to know.
They had arrived at the new building, and Dana pulled open a heavy glass door. “Let’s go in. I’ll show you some of the meeting rooms.”
They walked into a sunlit foyer with a very high domed ceiling, long windows, and a tile floor. It was filled with large green plants and upholstered benches, where people sat quietly talking or working on laptops. In the middle of the space, water flowed through a stone fountain, the gentle splashing sounds creating a soothing backdrop.
Maggie barely noticed. “Dana, I want to tell you something.”
Dana turned to her with a curious look.
“It’s probably not important, and I hate to gossip. But . . .”
“Aunt Dana?” Rose walked toward them, leading Oreo. Maggie wasn’t sure where she’d come from. Perhaps from one of the corridors that led off lobby? “Holly said to look for you. She said you’re giving me a lift home?”
“That’s right,” Dana replied. “She sent me a text. Her appointment with Dr. Riley was canceled. I guess something came up.”
Maggie knew what it was, too. But now that Rose was with them, she didn’t feel free to tell Dana. She’d find a private moment soon. Perhaps unknowingly, Holly could be stepping into a sticky situation.
Chapter 4
Phoebe had very aptly held down the fiber castle most of Friday, and Maggie gave her Saturday off, even though it was their busiest day. Ever since she and Charles had started living together, she had been less inclined to be at the shop on Sundays. They were only open from noon to four and Phoebe was fine covering the hours so that Maggie could spend the day with Charles.
On this particular Sunday, they lingered over breakfast and the newspapers and later worked in the garden, raking out the beds. Maggie knew she’d have to clean up the garden around her shop, too, very soon. But that would have to wait for another day.
In the late afternoon she cooked one of Charles’s favorite dinners, classic spaghetti and meatballs. She’d meant to surprise him, but when he found her in the kitchen, prodding some of the mixture into dog-bone shapes, he had a few questions.
“What is that you’re cooking, Maggie?”
“I’m making you meatballs. This is just a little experiment. We’re having dogs at the knitting group meeting this week, and I wanted to make them a special treat.”
“You’re going to teach dogs how to knit now, too? Not that I doubt you could do it, if anybody could. But why would they even need to know that?”
She knew he wasn’t serious. She hoped not anyway. “Rose Piper needs to bring her therapy dogs with her to the shop. At least one of them. So I told Lucy and Suzanne they could bring their dogs, too. It didn’t seem right to leave them out.” She looked up at him. “So I decided to have a dog theme.”
“I see.” He picked up a slice of carrot from the cutting board and crunched down. “I didn’t even know you like dogs.”
Maggi
e wasn’t sure how to answer. “I like them well enough. I don’t know that much about them. Julie liked cats, so she never asked for a dog growing up. I’m starting to see why some people are so devoted. A dog will do anything to please you. Cats are pretty much the opposite.”
“I had a great dog when I was a kid. A big old mutt,” Charles said wistfully. “His name was Champ.”
“Really? You never mentioned him before.”
Charles shrugged, remembering his childhood friend. “That dog saved my life. We were out in the marshes, me and a bunch of neighborhood kids. I wandered off and got stuck in quicksand. I flailed around, screaming and sinking deeper and deeper. Really stuck.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
“Never been more scared in my life, not even under gunfire. Champ ran for help and brought my friends back to find me. They got me out just in time.”
“Sounds like a boy’s adventure novel.”
He smiled. “An old-fashioned one. I’ve had a lot of adventures you don’t know about yet, my dear. You’d be surprised.”
“No I wouldn’t. But I’ll still enjoy hearing about them,” she said sincerely.
Lucy’s suggestion—her nagging, more precisely—echoed in Maggie’s head. Maybe Charles would like a dog. She could ask him right now. But for some reason, she decided to change the subject entirely.
She stood back from the counter. “I give up. I think I need a bone-shaped cookie cutter. I bet Lucy has one. I’m going to call her.”
Charles stared down at the baking sheet and then at Maggie. “Do you think the dogs will really notice?”
Maggie smiled. “Good point. I might be getting a little carried away.”
* * *
On Tuesday morning, Maggie was preparing for a class that started at eleven when she noticed Holly’s green pickup truck pull up and park in front of the shop.
Holly was alone, without Rose or any four-footed family members, and Maggie watched from the window as she took a large shopping bag from the cab and two pots that held bright green plants from the truck’s bay.