by Lynne Gentry
Maddie whirled, fire on her tongue. “Enough.”
Hurt, understanding, and a horrifying realization that she’d once again pushed too hard swept across Momma’s face and froze her still beautiful features in shocked disbelief. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. For everything. Especially the other night.”
“No, I’m the one who should apologize.” Maddie swallowed her pride. “Once I got phone service, David’s message came through. Why didn’t you tell me the whole Dr. Boyer thing was his idea?”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes...no...I don’t know.” Maddie reached for the handle of Etta May’s door. “I’ve got patients to see.”
“Maddie.” Momma grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have implied you needed a man to make you happy. And I should have never invited Dr. Boyer without your permission. It’s your life. Live it your way.” She leaned in and kissed Maddie’s cheek. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you what will make you happy. Not even me.”
These were the very words Maddie had been longing to hear for years. She’d fought long and hard to shatter the glass cage Momma and the folks in this small town had dropped over the preacher’s daughter. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”
“Disappointment? Madison Harper why in the world would you think you’re a disappointment?”
“I’m not David...and I’m not you.”
“Me?”
“I’m never going to marry, have two kids, move back to Mt. Hope and sit in church every Sunday.”
“Is that what you think I want for you? My life? My choices?”
“Yes.”
“Baby, I have loved my life. But the only part of it I’d wish on you is the happiness I’ve had...still have. I’ve always wanted you to be happy. That’s why I’ve been so protective. I thought if I could make your life perfect, you wouldn’t have to suffer.”
“But I have. Daddy died.” Maddie couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Momma had not pushed her father into the pulpit and ordered him to have a heart attack. “I’m sorry, Mom—” But her apology came too late. Momma was scurrying for the exit.
Telling her mother how she really felt was supposed to make her feel better. Instead, her heart ached. Maddie swiped at the tears burning her cheeks, took a deep breath, and blew out slowly. She was nearly thirty years old. A highly educated medical professional more than capable of taking care of herself. Time to quit acting like a spoiled baby and start acting like a decent adult.
She knocked lightly on Etta May’s door.
“Door’s open.” Nola Gay had added an impressive collection of doilies and crocheted afghans to the stark décor of the hospital room. Sunlight streamed through the jars of pickles lined up neatly along the windowsill.
Nola Gay followed the trajectory of Maddie’s bouncing gaze and nodded toward the pickles. “I hope you don’t mind if we pass them out to the fine nurses and doctors as a little thank you for their kind attention.”
“I’m sure they’ll be grateful.” Maddie eased toward Etta May’s bed, her eyes taking in the old woman’s pale coloring. “Most patients never say thank you.”
Etta May reached up and took her hand. “You okay?” Etta May’s dentures were in a glass on her bedside table so her lips caved in around her bare gums, making her difficult to understand.
“I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m dying until my bill reaches fifty thousand, remember?” Etta May winked.
Maddie lifted the sheet to check on Etta May’s swelling. “Where are your compression socks?”
“I took ’em off so Nola Gay could rinse them out.” Etta May pointed to the socks dripping from the extended arm of the TV swivel-mount.
“You’ve got to keep them on.”
“But they’re so uncomfortable,” Etta may argued.
Nola Gay came to Etta May’s rescue and said, “Word on the prayer chain is that Parker could be dismissed.”
That blasted prayer chain was a noose around her neck. “Is that so?”
“I knew it!” Nola Gay’s eyes twinkled. “You have dismissed him, haven’t you?”
Maddie let out a heavy sigh. “Yes.”
“Praise the Lord!” the twins whispered in unison.
“I’ll confirm the rumor and activate the prayer chain’s shouts of praise,” Nola Gay dug for her phone.
“Wouldn’t expect any less.” Maddie turned to her patient whose permed curls and uneven bangs matched the pillows stuffed around her head.
“Parker always loved our pickles,” Etta May whispered.
Maddie had always thought of the twins as eternal, like the never-ending west Texas winds that bent the spindly mesquites and constantly rearranged her hair. Now, with Etta May’s numbers showing an irregular heartbeat and Nola Gay’s clothes hanging from her skeletal frame, she realized she wasn’t prepared to lose another person she loved. Momma would be well within her rights to never speak to her again.
“Would you mind dropping off a couple of jars at his ranch when you go to see that he’s settled?” Nola Gay asked.
“I wasn’t planning to make a house call—”
“A little welcome home gift from us would mean so much to him,” Etta May pressed.
“I won’t be...” Maddie stopped, not wanting to explain her reluctance to see Parker again. “Sure. Pick out the ones you want me to take.”
Nola Gay lowered the footrest on her recliner and heaved herself up to the window ledge. “Sister, did Parker like the sweets or the dills?”
“He said the candied spears reminded him of us.” Etta May flashed a gummy smile. “Sweet and spicy.”
“Candied it is, then.” Nola Gay selected two jars filled with ruby red spears floating in a tangy liquid of sugar and vinegar. “Give him our love, too.” She said as she deposited the jars in Maddie’s arms. “Tell him to bring that precious baby girl of his up to see us once he gets her all squared away.”
“We’ve heard she’s just beautiful,” Etta May said. “Busy as a one-armed bandit, but precious.”
“She’s very cute,” Maddie admitted.
“Kathy says she’s real picky about who she takes up with.” Nola Gay’s raised brows and expectant stare implied more than a statement. She was probing for extra prayer-chain fodder.
Maddie noticed the untouched dinner tray she’d had the kitchen double and jumped on the chance to change the subject. “Don’t either of you feel like eating?”
Etta May wrinkled her nose. “This hospital okra could slime the Brazos.”
“Boiled greens give us the trots,” Nola Gay agreed, “and Sister’s just not up to popping in and out of bed.”
Maddie worried about their matching loss of appetites. “What does sound good?” She’d heard of sympathy pains, but maybe Momma was right. One twin goes, the other wouldn’t be far behind. “You both need to keep up your strength.”
Etta May rubbed her stomach. “I’ve been cravin’ your momma’s chicken pot pie.”
“Leona’s pot pie is easy on the bowels.” Nola Gay rubbed her stomach. “You’re daddy used to say there was nothin’ like one of Leona’s pot pies to fix what ails you.”
Maddie’s gaze darted between Etta May and Nola Gay. They’d overheard the argument she’d had with her mother and were setting up a reason for her and Momma to patch things up. “I’ll text her and let her know. I’m sure Momma will be happy to do whatever she can to shorten your stay.”
“Then not a word to Leona, do you hear?” Etta May’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t want our stay shortened.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I’m convinced those blood thinners and clot busters I have you on are working. If they don’t, we’ll have to talk about surgery.”
Etta May’s eyes widened in horror. “Surgery?” She turned to Nola Gay. “Can’t we just write them a check, Sister? I don’t want to be cut on.”
“We’d just need to insert a little filter into a vein in your abdomen.”
Etta May shook her head. “Please, Maddie. No surgery.”
Maddie sighed. “Okay. Not right now. But you’ve got to promise me you’ll wear those compression socks and start eating.”
“She’s right, Sister. We’ll need our strength if we’re going to keep the hospital meter running.” Nola Gay stacked another jar of pickles on Maddie’s load. “Your momma’s new husband loves our candied spears. Sweetness always goes over so good with the men folk.” She eased back into the recliner. “You can leave these with him. Their place is on the way to Parker’s.”
“I know where Momma lives.”
“Then why don’t you go see her?”
She’d thrown Momma over the cliff and these old foxes were willing to bulldoze her over if she didn’t at least try to repair the horrible mess she’d made of her most treasured relationships. “Okay, I’ll go. But it may take me a day or two to get out there. I’m pretty swamped.”
Satisfied smiles stretched the wrinkles from both the old girls’ faces.
“You’re the one whose biological clock is ticking.” Nola Gay cranked the recliner handle and her legs shot out in front of her. “Not us.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was almost dark by the time Maddie left the clinic. Cicadas thrummed in the branches of the mesquite trees that dotted the parking lot. She’d not had a moment to sit since sunrise. No wonder she was numb with exhaustion. Juggling three pickle jars, she was so engrossed in trying to click her key fob without dropping one that she didn’t dare turn to identify the car that had pulled up beside her.
“I was going to ask if you were hungry but I see the Storys beat me to it.” Dr. Boyer had the top down on his convertible and an easy smile on his face.
“I hate pickles.” Maddie steadied the pickles with her chin and opened the car door. She carefully set the jars on the passenger seat.
“How about joining me for a steak?”
He was flirting. Outright, bold coming on to her. “At the Koffee Kup?”
He nodded. “For the sake of our arteries, maybe we should avoid Ruthie’s.”
“You didn’t have any trouble choking down that burger.”
“Ruthie’s burgers are surprisingly good. And her steaks are fair when I’m in a hurry. But tonight I feel like savoring a slab of well-aged prime beef.”
“Sounds expensive.” Maddie glanced down at the body fluids splattered on her scrubs not fifteen minutes ago by a kid who’d eaten a grasshopper. “I look awful.”
“I’m still in my scrubs. I’ve already reserved my table. It’s hidden away on a dark corner of the deck. No one will see us.”
“It’s been a long week.” She shook her head. “I’m headed to the shower, and then plan to sleep the entire weekend.”
“Make me eat alone and I’ll tell the board you signed on for two months of family clinic work.” He revved his engine. “Come on. I’ll race you. Loser buys.”
The cocky challenge raised her chin. “And the winner gets what?”
His appraising look didn’t seem the least bit put off by the weariness on her face. “Winner gets a day’s reprieve from family clinic duty.”
A day without kids was a no-brainer. “Deal.”
She ran around and jumped into her car. Before she could press the ignition button, the squeal of rubber told her Boyer’s convertible had left the parking lot.
“Jerk.”
Maddie’s hair whipped from the band holding it in place as her Porsche flew over the deserted highway. She inhaled deeply. The earthy scent of a possible thunder storm swirled in the wind. She had no business having dinner with the chief of staff. Again. But the prospect of talking to an adult after a day of traumatizing encounters with sick kids had its appeal. Spending so many hours at the hospital since she’d taken on Parker and the clinic had taught her something important. If she was going to be happy, the way Momma wanted her to be happy, maybe she needed more in her life than her work. Once settled into her new job in Atlanta, she’d take time to make friends...maybe even open herself up to a romantic relationship. Of course, actually having a private life would be so much easier in a city where everyone didn’t make it their business to know her business.
In no hurry to end this budding sense of direction, she eased off the gas. Dr. Boyer deserved a win. Not because of all he’d done to grant her temporary hospital privileges, but because he’d stayed out of her way. At the very least, she owed him a steak and possibly even a couple of extra days at the clinic.
Ten miles south of town, Maddie followed the convertible’s taillights into a gravel parking lot. Multi-colored Christmas lights lit the huge wraparound porch of the rustic, log-cabin style steakhouse.
Though it was dark, the temperature hovered around ninety.
Dr. Boyer opened the heavy wooden door and said, “Ladies first.” His poor attempt to mimic a southern drawl brought a smile to Maddie’s face.
Inside, the air conditioner blasted while a fire burned in the big stone hearth. A huge metal sign hung over the hostess station. It promised a free meal to anyone brave enough to consume their 72-ounce steak in one hour.
“We’ll sit on the deck.” Robin winked at the cute little hostess eyeing him admiringly.
Recognition lit her eyes. “Follow me, Dr. Boyer.” Hips swaggering seductively, the girl led them through huge double doors. Maddie wasn’t surprised when the hostess slipped him a napkin with her number scribbled on it and Robin slid it into the chest pocket of his scrub shirt with a flirty pop to his heart.
What Maddie didn’t expect was the tremendous view from the expansive, tin-covered deck that had been built atop thick cedar pilings driven deep into the water. Pink bougainvillea spilled out of old whiskey barrels and rusty wagon wheels formed the railing that linked to hand-hewn porch posts. Bleached longhorn skulls nailed to the outside wall of the restaurant lent their horns as hat racks for the rugged men with red faces and rancher tans sitting at tables with their tired wives and rowdy kids.
“Wow!” Maddie said as the hostess seated them in a cozy table far from the noise of the live band and patrons nursing cold beers. “Nothing screams fun like a night out with the kids.”
Dr. Boyer nodded to a striking woman serving the ranchers sweet tea. “That’s the owner’s wife. She was a high-risk patient I delivered successfully. I always reward risky ventures with my patronage.”
“Patronage?” Maddie dropped into her chair, an unexpected wave of admiration and exhaustion suddenly getting the better of her. “Do you always sound so stuffy?”
“Only when I’m nervous.”
She scoffed. “I don’t think anything makes you nervous.”
“That’s an uncharacteristically wrong diagnosis, Dr. Harper. Beautiful women make me shake in my shoes.”
“You weren’t shaking when that perky little waitress slipped you her number.”
His eyes locked with Maddie’s. “There’s a difference between attractive and stunning.”
“Then you picked a strange profession because I’m pretty certain unattractive women aren’t the only ones who suffer pregnancy complications.”
“Are you always as subtle as a defibrillator?”
“Are you always on the prowl?”
“Like you, I haven’t found a compelling reason to settle down.”
Had she given up her dreams and stayed in Mt. Hope, she’d probably be married to Parker, have a couple of rowdy children of her own, and have wrinkles that made her look old before her time.
Steering the conversation away from the dangerously personal territory, Maddie lifted the large leather menu. “Order up, Chief. I’m buying.”
“I can pay my own way.”
“A bet’s a bet. I lost the race. Besides, I’m rich, remember?”
“So am I.” He smirked at her lack of surprise. His long, slender fingers formed two arrows he pointed at himself. “Indulged only child of a busy surgeon and detached mother.” Then, tossing the ball in her court, he pointed the fingered arrow
at her.
“Stifled daughter of a small town pastor and the woman for whom the term ‘helicopter mom’ was coined.”
“Leona seems lovely.”
“She is. Especially when she’s softening you up. You know she’s softening you up, right?”
“I granted your privileges, what else could she possibly need?”
“She’s acquired a rescue dog.”
“And?”
“She’s training him to be a medical therapy dog.”
“I’ve seen animal-assisted therapy programs. They’re great.” His brows drew together. “But my hospital doesn’t offer that program.”
“Yet.” When her point dawned on his face she couldn’t help but chuckle at his pricelessly cornered expression. “And it’s not your hospital.”
“You know what I meant.”
Surgeons weren’t usually so easily flustered. This was fun. “Consider yourself, Leona’d.”
“Leona’d?”
“Manipulated to suit Momma’s purposes.” Maddie wiped the condensation forming on her water glass. “I’ve been Leona’d my entire life.” Like being told all Momma had ever wanted was for her to be happy.
He pressed his straw through the paper wrapper. “Ah, thus the reason you’re in a hurry to move across country.” And just like that, he’d lobbed the perfect grenade to fluster her.
The first time she saw her mother have to give in to an angry church member, Maddie made the deliberate choice to take a different path than the one her mother had chosen. She didn’t want to live too scared to do anything that might offend someone and put her livelihood in jeopardy. She wanted freedom to wear what she wanted, work if she wanted, and live where she wanted. Her rebellion took many forms. She refused to learn to cook, marry a good church boy, have a house full of kids, and serve the church for free. She wanted to be happy...on her terms.
The contradiction hit her hard. Her mother was happy. She’d always been happy.
Maddie shrugged. “It’s a good offer.”
Thick, sizzling steaks with sides of red-skinned potatoes and grilled asparagus smothered in garlic butter arrived. Robin swallowed the first delicious bite then steered the conversation to Atlanta’s proximity to the east coast and all the important medical connections she could make.