“Just for a couple of days.”
“Vacation?”
“I’m a reporter for the Seattle Times. Doing an article on the goings-on at your hospital. Compassionate Medical Systems coming in, shaking things up.” He took a sip of his coffee. “How do you feel about it?”
“I’m all for it.” Elizabeth leaned against the edge of the booth. “My ex is a doctor at the hospital and he’s working himself to death the way things are now. I hear if Compassionate Medical Systems comes in, they’ll bring in more doctors. There’s even talk about building a new hospital, which, God knows, we could use. I was born in that place and I don’t think it’s been remodeled since.”
“Your husband is a doctor there?”
“Ex.”
“What does he think about it?”
“Oh…” She shrugged. “He’s one of those idealistic types. He’d rather work himself to death than bend. But if enough people want it, I don’t think he’ll have much choice.”
She set the check on the table in front of him, and after he left, she went back to the kitchen for a rag and wiped down the already clean tables. Then the door opened on a gust of cold air and a woman came in. Navy sweat suit and baseball cap. No jacket, which meant she was a tourist not used to the local weather. The woman looked at her and then they both did a double take.
“Sarah?”
“Elizabeth! I didn’t know you worked here.”
And then there was an awkward moment when she could see Sarah didn’t know whether to hug her or not, or maybe it was her feeling that way about Sarah who she’d never exactly been on hugging terms with, mostly because Sarah wasn’t the hugging type. But then they both moved forward at the same time and wrapped their arms around each other like long-lost friends.
“I feel bad we haven’t got together since you’ve been back,” Elizabeth said, which wasn’t exactly true, but what the hell. “Every day, I think, okay, I’ve got to call Sarah, but you know how it is.” She plucked at the arm of Sarah’s sweats. “You look frozen to death. How come you’re not wearing a jacket? This is Washington, not…wherever you were. Where was it? Matt told me once, but I forget. Wait, wait, don’t tell me. Panama.”
Sarah smiled. “Nicaragua.”
“But weren’t you in Panama? I remember Matt saying something about the canal.”
“I flew into Panama City.” Sarah pulled off the baseball cap, blew into her hands. “And then I went to Nicaragua.” She glanced around. “I had no idea you worked here,” she repeated. “This was my favorite place as a kid. It was a big treat to come here for breakfast before we caught the ferry.”
Elizabeth smiled. Sarah hadn’t changed a whole lot. Same reddish hair that always looked like someone had taken an electric mixer to it, fuzzy and flyaway. Maybe a few wrinkles, but who didn’t have those? And she didn’t look like she weighed any more than she had in high school, which was more than she could say about herself.
“So, you going to have breakfast?”
Sarah seemed to be thinking it over, then she smiled and sat down in one of the booths by the window. “Sure. Why not?”
The phone by the cash register rang.
“The Landing,” Elizabeth answered.
“I’m sorry for being mean,” Lucy said.
“Aw, honey.” Elizabeth set down the menu she’d picked up for Sarah. “Are you crying?”
“Yeah. I feel sad.”
“Oh, Lulu.” Elizabeth wiped her own eyes. “How come?”
“I don’t know, I just do.” A pause. “Dad called. He was supposed to take me to the mall to get fabric for my costume and now he can’t go.”
“Well, I can take you. As soon as I get off work. We’ll go to the mall and go to the Olive Garden afterward. Mmm, that artichoke dip you like. And lots of bread sticks? How does that sound?”
“Okay,” Lucy said in a small voice. “But I kind of wanted Dad to take me.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “How come he can’t?”
“I don’t know. Something at the hospital.”
“I’ll talk to him, sweetie—okay?” Elizabeth signaled to Sarah that she’d be right there. “Cheer up.”
She hung up the phone, grabbed a menu and set it down in front of Sarah. She poured coffee without asking because she remembered Sarah had always been a coffee fiend and she was pretty sure that hadn’t changed. “The omelets are good.” She watched Sarah scan the menu. “So are the scrambles. Especially the shrimp and crab.”
Sarah looked up at her and smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
“I’m running the show,” Elizabeth said. “Meaning, I’m the cook, too. Come back and talk to me while I fix your food. Bring your coffee. I think I’ll have some, too.”
She poured herself a cup, got eggs and two stainless steel containers of vegetables she’d chopped earlier and set them down by the stove. “So how were your cheeseburgers last night?” she said as she scrambled the eggs.
“Cheeseburgers?” Arms folded across her chest, Sarah stood off to one side watching. “Oh, Matthew told you—”
“Matthew never tells me anything,” Elizabeth said. “Lucy told me. My daughter,” she added. “Well, Matt’s daughter, too. She’s definitely a daddy’s girl. Twists him around her little finger like he’s made of putty. He probably talked your ear off about her, right?”
“We started talking shop,” Sarah said, “and that pretty much took up the evening.” She drank some coffee, set the mug down. “So anyway, how old is your daughter?”
“Fourteen,” Elizabeth said. “And…” She stared hard at the chopped pieces of red bell pepper and onions in the frying pan and then, just like in the Safeway, felt the tears start up. “Sorry. Ignore me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me….”
“Sounds about the same way I’m feeling right now,” Sarah said.
Elizabeth glanced at her, but it had always been difficult to tell what was really going on with Sarah. She slid a spatula under the eggs. “You want cheese, right?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the container of grated mozzarella from the refrigerator. “You got any ideas why a girl who is loved to distraction by both her parents would rather have a root canal than spend time with her mother, but thinks her father can do no wrong and goes to pieces when she can’t be with him?”
CHAPTER SIX
“NOT HAVING KIDS MYSELF,” Sarah said as she sprinkled cheese onto the eggs Elizabeth had scrambled, “I’m probably not the best person to ask. But since you did, I remember at fourteen, I preferred my father to my mother. He was just less…I don’t know, judgmental. Actually, Rose and I have always had a sort of prickly relationship.”
“With Lucy,” Elizabeth’s voice trembled, “she knows she takes after me, but she looks at me these days and it kills her to think she might end up like me.”
“Or she could just be a typical fourteen-year-old girl,” Sarah said. “And it’s just a stage you have to live through.” She glanced around the kitchen, wondering about silverware. Somehow, without realizing it, they’d changed places and now Elizabeth, seated on a stool by the stove, was watching as Sarah finished cooking the breakfast.
“How did this happen?” Elizabeth blew her nose. “You’re the customer. Oh, well, no charge.” She managed a watery smile. “You must think I’m some kind of nutcase. We haven’t seen each for years and you’re here five minutes and I fall apart.”
“I tend to have that effect on people,” Sarah said. In fact, she’d barely recognized Elizabeth and might not have if Elizabeth hadn’t said her name first. A glimmer of the old Elizabeth lingered in the husky screen-siren voice and the creamy complexion, but the flashing dimples and almond eyes were lost in soft folds of flesh. The lithe cheerleader shape was now pillowy breasts and hips sausaged into black stretch pants. She divided the food between the two plates Elizabeth had set on the chrome serving shelf. “I’m working on it though.”
“Let’s eat back here.” Elizabeth pulled her stool up to the counter an
d sat down again. “I can see if anyone comes in.”
Sarah dug her fork into the eggs. “Not bad. If I do say so myself.”
“Remember home ec?” Elizabeth asked. “One time we were supposed to be making…what was it, some kind of cake together. And you drove me crazy because everything had to be carefully measured.” She set down her fork. “You insisted on running a knife over the top of a cupful of flour to make sure it was exactly one cup.”
Sarah smiled. “I remember that. You drove me crazy. You kept adding things that weren’t in the recipe.”
“But Matt liked my cake best,” Elizabeth said.
“Yep.” Sarah nodded, remembering. “Matthew liked everything best about you.” Suddenly embarrassed at what she’d said and at the power still remaining in those memories, she made a production of getting more coffee for both of them. At the moment, Matthew didn’t feel like a safe subject.
“Have you been working here long?” she asked.
“Six weeks.”
“Must be interesting meeting new people…lots of tourists, huh?”
“It’s a job,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing like what you or Matt do.”
“At the moment, it’s more than I do,” Sarah said. “I thought I’d come back here and—” She stopped herself. “Compassionate Medical Systems seems to have taken over. I gave Matthew a hard time about it. I accused him of selling out.”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“I know, I feel bad.”
“No, I don’t mean that. It’s just…the two of you. He’s been agonizing about whether or not to join.”
“He has?”
“God, yes. I tell him he needs to come down from his ivory tower once in a while, pay a visit to us real people. Everyone knows it would be the best thing that ever happened to Port Hamilton. I mean, how long has that hospital been there? It’s a dump. They’d tear that down, build something modern. And right now, the way Matt is always on call, they’d get more doctors and they’d all be making more money, which, for sure, would be good for everyone. Matt needs to throw his support to CMC, Sarah. If he doesn’t, he’s going to kill himself.”
Her appetite gone, Sarah pushed her plate away. “Now I really feel bad.”
“Don’t.” Elizabeth looked at her for a minute. “It’s funny, some people just kind of tiptoe through life, never putting their feet down too hard and then there’s…”
“Me,” Sarah said. “Sarah the trampler.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Elizabeth folded her arms. “Can I give you a piece of advice? I mean, it seems weird advising you, but—”
“Why would that be weird?”
“Well, it’s always…you know, Sarah’s so smart. Elizabeth’s pretty, but Sarah’s smart. But okay, here’s the thing. So you said something that maybe you shouldn’t have and maybe it bothered Matt. Well, so what? He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it. That’s the way life is. I make you mad. You make me mad. The world keeps turning, right? Quit beating yourself up. Go see him, say hi and act like nothing ever happened.”
Sarah considered. If nothing else it might help mend the personal rift. Plus there was always the chance that after thinking things over, he’d have a change of heart about her proposal. Maybe she’d give him a day or two though. Sarah finally nodded. “I might do that.”
“Good.” Elizabeth smiled. “You know what? I feel a whole lot better just talking to you.”
“That makes two of us,” Sarah said.
“Hey, Sarah.” Elizabeth’s smile grew less uncertain. “I should have said something before. I meant to, but I’m bad at this. Listen, I’m really sorry about your husband. That must have been tough.”
“Yeah.” Sarah looked beyond Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Well, I guess I should get going.”
AS HE WALKED through the mall, Lucy on one side, his former mother-in-law, Pearl, on the other, Matthew was thinking about Sarah. His plan had been to call her, suggest another Frugals trip, this time without drifting into the murky waters of professional ethics. That it still irked him to be accused of selling out was, he realized, because he shared her opinion.
“Elizabeth’s drinking,” Pearl said. “I worry about her.”
“She told me she was going to counseling,” Matthew said.
“Huh.” Pearl grunted and they both walked along in silence for a while. Lucy, who he was well aware had manipulated him into coming to the mall—a place he detested—was walking on ahead. Drawing, and enjoying, not so subtle glances from pimply faced adolescent louts who Matthew was ready to take on if they so much as laid a finger on her.
“I’ll have another talk with Elizabeth,” Matthew said.
“You were the best thing that ever happened to her. And she threw it all away for what? A long-haired hippy musician who lasted all of five minutes.”
“Yeah, well, who could compete with me?” Impulsively, he put his arm around Pearl’s shoulders and hugged her close, swept by a sudden surge of affection for the sprightly little woman walking along beside him in her natty red jacket and black pants.
Whenever he questioned why he’d married Elizabeth in the first place, he knew one of the answers was her mother. His own had fled the scene shortly after he was born, leaving him to be raised by his father who had never hidden the fact that he resented the burden. Matthew spent his childhood auditioning potential mother replacements. Given the amount of time he’d hung around Sarah’s house, Rose had been an obvious choice. But Rose, cool and cerebral and slightly scatty, was not the kind of mother who would sit a child down with milk and cookies or dish out hugs and words of comfort. Pearl was. Pearl had always made him feel like the best, most brilliant specimen of the male gender.
Elizabeth seemed, at least until they were married, to have inherited that ability. The contrast between Elizabeth and Sarah couldn’t have been more dramatic. If Elizabeth was a warm embrace, a source of uncritical affection, being around Sarah was often like navigating a minefield. And, he had to admit it, every male over the age of twelve had lusted after Elizabeth. How could he not feel flattered that she’d chosen him?
“…and of course, I liked it when the two of you were married,” Pearl was saying. “My son-in-law the doctor. I could find a way to drop it into any conversation.”
Matthew laughed.
“You two ever talk about getting back together again?”
“Not even for you, Pearl.”
“It would make Lucy happy.”
“Lucy’s happy enough,” he said.
“She’d be happier with two parents in the same house.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Matthew said. “I saw Sarah Benedict last night.”
“And?”
He laughed. “And nothing. We had cheeseburgers. I told her I’ll probably end up joining Compassionate Medical Systems. And she lectured me on selling out.”
Pearl paused to glance at a window display of sandals. “Sarah was always a high-minded girl.”
“Still is.”
“Do you think you’re selling out?”
“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully.
TWO DAYS LATER, Matthew was sitting in the hospital cafeteria eating enchiladas and rice and reading the Peninsula Daily News when he looked up to see Sarah sitting across from him, clearly suppressing a grin. Strands of hair escaped from her braid curling in tendrils around her face, and she wore a dark green sweater that seemed to change the color of her eyes from gray to gray-green.
“How long have you been there?” he asked.
“Long enough for you to finish the article about how CMS will transform the delivery of medical care to the peninsula…and to scan the society column where you’d hoped to find at least your name, if not a picture of you hobnobbing with the Port Hamilton elite at the Elks Club ball.”
Matthew laughed. His spirits had just taken a dramatic upturn. “I’m so damn disappointed. I thought attending the ball with
reindeer antlers glued to my scrub cap would guarantee a spot on the front page. What the hell do I have to do to be included in the society column?”
“Dunno.” Sarah was laughing, too. “Be more elk-like.”
“Bigger horns maybe.”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
They sat there for a minute or so, just grinning at each other.
“I’ve been thinking.” Sarah broke off a piece of his tortilla and scooped up some rice. “I know, take two aspirins and call you in the morning.”
“Works for me,” Matthew said.
“Just shut up and listen, will you? It’s not every day I apologize, but I’m about to do it so don’t make it more difficult. The words are practically choking me already.”
“On the other hand, it could be the tortilla,” Matthew suggested.
“I’ve been told by, oh, one or two people…maybe three, that I’m argumentative and idealistic and kind of difficult sometimes. All lies of course, but I started thinking about how I gave you a hard time the other night and, okay, this isn’t a concession or anything—”
“Of course not.”
“I came here to say I’m sorry for accusing you of…abandoning your principles,” she said solemnly. “Especially—”
“Considering I don’t have any,” Matthew said, beating her to the punch line. Laughing, he watched Sarah struggle to keep a straight face. “Give it up, Sarah. It’s me, Matthew. You don’t have to apologize for anything you say to me. You were simply expressing your opinion. Which is what I’d expect of you.”
“You don’t think I have a career in diplomacy? Or public relations?”
Matthew shook his head. “Sorry.”
“But, I did kind of get on my soapbox and I’m—” she swallowed “—sor-sorry.”
“I heard it.” He glanced around the cafeteria. “Damn it. Where’s the media when you need them? She apologized. Sarah Benedict apol—”
Sarah leaned over to slap her hand across his mouth. “I take it back. That word never left my mouth.”
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