by Barbara Ebel
See you then, she finished.
Annabel stepped over to the stairs which headed down to the river when her phone rang; it was Dustin Lowe. She answered as she slowed her pace down the descent.
“Hello, Dustin,” she said. “Are you arresting criminals tonight?”
He laughed. “Actually, I am on duty but I’m at the station right now. Edgar’s out, however, looking into a motorist’s 911 call. I had fun on our diner date. I hope you did, too.”
“Yes, it was a nice evening.”
“Edgar and I were talking earlier and we’re both wondering if you ladies would like to go out again. I know you’re busy and need to study a lot, but we were wondering if we could take both of you for brunch on Sunday.”
“What a nice idea. I can’t tie up most of the day, however, because of my studies and paper. Would I be too impolite to split after eating?”
“No, I understand. But I’m assuming a one or two hour date would be okay?”
“That’s fine. More than fine. It sounds like fun and I’ll consider the brunch a healthy midday break. Plus, I’ll enjoy the company.”
“Great. How about I pick you up at twelve? Edgar is bringing Selina.”
“So they’re all fixed up?”
“He called her this afternoon. I observe a glint in his eyes whenever he talks about her.”
“They seem attached already. Like they’ve known each other and have admired each other for a long time.”
“I think you’re right. See you on Sunday.”
“Okay. Good-bye.”
Annabel smiled at the opportunity to again go out with her attending. Selina was so experienced and smart; it was a bonus being with her after work, like sipping on Baileys after an awesome dinner.
She began jogging with thoughts about the weekend roaming around in her head. Good thing she didn’t have the overnight call on psychiatry like other rotations; otherwise two ‘dates’ on a weekend would never be possible. However, she remembered, medical school was her first priority, not dating.
-----
Annabel stepped into Victor Blake’s room late the next morning after rounds to find him gathering toiletries by the sink.
“Is my mom here yet?” Victor asked as he turned to her. His hair was neatly combed back and his shirt was tucked in … a far cry from his appearance on admission.
“She’s here with Dr. Keeton and I’m here to fetch you. Your mom hasn’t seen you in a few days so she’ll be surprised at the young man she’s taking home. Each day you’ve made progress, Victor.”
“I can do this at home. Occasionally help my mom out upstairs and get a job again.”
“That’s a good plan. Just make sure you come to Dr. Keeton’s appointments and group therapy. I’ll see you there for a short time, too.”
“I’m still going to keep pets even though you all thought I was crazy about that.”
“Even though they were all in your mind, I’d be hard pressed to call a snake a pet,” she said and thought about her family dog, Dakota, at home in Tennessee. “It’s more fun to pet a dog,” she added.
“Everybody thinks there’s something wild and exotic about snakes. They make me think about playing Tarzan when I was a kid.” Victor smiled while sticking a comb in his back pocket.
“I suppose you make a valid point,” she said and frowned. “We grow up playing different games and we all have different tastes.”
“I just don’t know what I’m going to find when I go home,” he mumbled.
Annabel ignored his remark, went over to the blinds and twisted them open for more light. She scanned the room. “Make sure all your personal items are packed and let’s go join Dr. Keeton and your mom.”
Victor put the last few items in a small suitcase and followed her. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been in a hospital,” he said. “Being here wasn’t so terrible thanks to you and Dr. Keeton.”
“It all depends on what you’re in for,” Annabel said. “Some people that come in never go out.”
“That’s a dismal thought. Just think, however, a health care worker can go to work and not know it’s their last day, too.”
“That’s as dark a thought as the first one, Victor,” she said.
“Well, they can be struck down with a heart attack or something else, too, you know.”
Annabel shook her head. “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want bad luck befalling patients or docs or staff.”
“Suit yourself. But in psychiatry, I thought one of the main points is to talk about stuff.”
They rounded a corner and stopped outside the family conference room where Mrs. Blake’s light-weight wheelchair was parked.
“You’re getting too intelligent on that prescription.” She gave him direct eye contact. “Or you were already pretty darned clever to start with and the schizophrenia flare-up only made it seem like you weren’t.”
His eyes crinkled while he smiled. “Wow. A near compliment from someone my age of the opposite sex and about my brain power. You’re making my head swell.”
“Consider it my positive affirmation to you. A present for your discharge.”
Annabel rapped on the door and poked her head in. “Okay to come in?” she asked.
“Yes,” Selina said. She looked comfortable in a single upholstered chair, her feet crossed at the ankles, and Mrs. Blake sat on the couch with a portable oxygen tank and its cannula hooked into her nose. The circles under her eyes were still as dark as the last time Annabel had seen her.
“Hey, Mom,” Victor said, “thanks for coming to bail me out.”
“Glad you’re doing better, son.”
“Here is the prescription for your risperidone,” Dr. Keeton said as she handed it to Victor. “Stop to get it on the way home. Do you think the two of you can arrange a back-up plan to make sure Victor takes his pill every day?”
“Usually we see each other once a day in the morning,” Mrs. Blake said. “Victor comes up or, rarely, I rap on his door after going to the mailbox. It would be better if I keep his meds and make sure he gets one every morning.”
“Is that okay with you?” Selina asked.
Victor shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll worry about getting a job, not about remembering to take my medicine.”
“You should also be responsible for your medication. Here’s a card for your next appointment with me and be here next Wednesday for group therapy. However, if you or your mom recognize any change in behavior such as the voices returning to your mind and giving you strange ideas, you must call. If I am not available, another psychiatrist is … anytime day or night.”
Marilyn took a deep breath and patted Victor on the knee. “We’ll take care of each other’s emotional and personal baggage. We always have and we always will.”
“We’re finished then,” Selina said as she got up. “See you next week, Victor.”
Marilyn pushed herself up using the armrest and handed the oxygen tank to Victor to carry.
“Do you want to slowly walk or shall I push you?” Victor asked Marilyn in the hallway.
“I’ll take a ride,” she smiled, “and let’s fill your prescription downstairs in the hospital pharmacy.”
Annabel watched them peel away. Now her rotation report would include a successful hospital admission for her first schizophrenic patient.
-----
Annabel glanced up at the wall clock in the lounge and hoped afternoon rounds wouldn’t be delayed. Meeting her new Findar date, Tristan, was set up for later and she didn’t want to scramble getting ready when she got home. She continued taking the sample psychiatry test at the table when Bob came in.
“We’re still not working on that together?” he asked.
“I guess not. We can’t seem to link up anymore. Except for rounds. Maybe Karla can help you with it.”
“What do you mean? She hasn’t taken psychiatry yet.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just being irritable. Here, I made you a copy.” She m
oved her test over and handed him the stapled sheets underneath.
“What are you doing later? I’ll come your way; we can go to the coffee shop in your neighborhood and compare notes about this.” He picked up the papers and waved them in the air.
“I can’t tonight, Bob.”
He eyed her suspiciously while she grabbed some of her lip between her teeth.
“Do you have a date?”
Annabel tilted her head. “Kind of.”
“Interesting. What kind of date is a ‘kind of’ date?” He frowned. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Why don’t we do the tests ourselves and next Monday when we’re caught up with clinical duties, we check our results. Or we could just ask Dr. Keeton for the answers.”
The door swung open and Selina breezed in. “Glad to see you both working on that,” she said, peering at Bob’s hands. “I stuck the answer key in my pocket for the both of you. Here you go.”
“Thanks, Dr. Keeton,” Annabel said.
“You’re welcome. Feel free to ask me any questions.”
She glanced back at the doorway. “I guess we better beep Joshua for rounds. Also, Annabel, I am covering the emergency psychiatric service on Sunday. Since we are already linked up that day, why don’t you accompany me if there are any emergency patients? It’ll be a double date and call day. I’m sure the guys will understand if we get called away. I did tell Edgar about that possibility but we loved the idea of a leisurely brunch.”
“That’s fine,” Annabel said.
Selina stepped to the side and paged Joshua.
“The police officers again?” Bob asked, leaning across the table. “And a date tonight? Wow.”
“Bob,” she said softly. “I agree with you. It’s too much socializing for one weekend; I don’t know how I managed to get myself into this predicament.”
“Studies come first,” he said. “I’m only catching a quick movie with Karla Weaver on Saturday night.”
“Oh, have fun,” she said and meant it. It was time she wished him well with his newfound female interest. After all, she was guilty of extra-curricular events with members of the opposite sex on a steady basis.
Chapter 19
Annabel jumped into the shower when she arrived home; the water hitting her face invigorated her and after lathering up, she stood an extra few minutes with her eyes closed.
For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, she wanted to back out of tonight. She didn’t think it had anything to do with seeing Dustin Lowe again on Sunday, especially since no sexual relationship existed between them. Nor did she think it was because of the basketball coach she planned on meeting soon. He was just another guy from Findar doing exactly what she practiced herself. So why did she have an eerie feeling?
Annabel opened her eyes, shut off the water, and began drying with a towel. As far as she knew, she never held a special ability or particular feeling to sense something before it happened. Her mother may be guilty of possessing a sixth sense, but not her. This is nonsense, she thought. Go ahead and meet Tristan like arranged and maybe or maybe not have a wild fling with him. The sex was like tossing a coin and she would be the one tossing and making the call. Just like she’d done before at Eden Park; she could pull the plug beforehand if she didn’t like what she saw or if the circumstances appeared fishy.
She finished drying, went to her closet, and picked out a pink blouse with a crisp collar. She also shrugged off her stupidity.
There was nothing to worry about.
-----
Outside turned dark and chilly. Annabel stood on the curb next to her SUV and opened the back door. With enough illumination from the overhead street light, she rummaged through her shoulder bag, took out her cell phone and change purse, and dropped the bigger bag on the back seat floor. Since she and Tristan were meeting at a gas station, she could fill up her tank. She unzipped the leather purse to check her cash. No problem. It was stuffed with bills. She tried not to charge everything since her father received and paid her credit card bills in Tennessee.
She closed the back door and slid into the driver’s seat. After placing her change purse on the passenger seat, she put the station’s address into her cell phone GPS as a backup and plugged her phone in to charge.
I-75 flowed nicely as she traveled north and not too far past the area of the medical campus. She lowered the volume of her favorite music station and pulled off onto the exit. At the light, she could see the intersection across the interstate with a big Murphy’s gas station sign. Sure enough, as she pulled close, the corner signs said Brimstone and Market and she didn’t need a GPS to tell her where to go.
She slowed, deciding which gas pump to pull alongside of. There were two sets of fuel islands with eight pumps and she stopped on the street side of the island closest to the station’s store and got out with her phone. There was only one other car there, parallel to hers at the pump to her left. A shapely woman looked over and nodded at Annabel.
Annabel leaned against her car and texted. Tristan had told her what he would be wearing but he never said the make or model of his vehicle.
Tristan, I’m at the gas station. Are you on your way?
Annabel
After she sent the message, she realized how foolish she was to send it. If he was driving and almost there, he couldn’t text her back. She should wait for any new cars, she thought, as she set the pump up to buy regular gas. She opened the gasoline cap of her car and stuck the nozzle inside. When she pressed the handle to deliver by itself, she noticed a black sedan with dark-tinted windows pulling in from the intersection. The car slowed dramatically and then pulled on the other side of her island parallel to the gas station’s store. Then the vehicle inched forward to the next pump.
The door opened and a man in his twenties got out, leaned back in, and then placed something in his back pocket and a western hat on his head. As he strutted over and she suppressed a smile, the woman across from her passed on her way into the building to pay. She stopped beside Annabel also admiring the hunk headed towards them.
“I ain’t never seen a cowboy look that good in jeans,” the woman said.
Annabel blinked. “I think you’re right.”
“What kind of jeans are they anyway?” the woman said. “Hell, I think he’s headed your way.”
“He is.”
“Lucky you,” the lady said and walked away.
The man came around the other side of the pump and approached her from the tail end of her vehicle so she changed her position to face him. He put his foot up on her bumper and tilted his hat.
“A pretty lady in a red SUV,” he said. “You must be Annabel.”
“Nice to meet you, Tristan.”
“This worked out like clockwork. I’m never sure, because of the anonymity of Findar, if someone is going to stand me up. But here you are.”
If a woman contemplated skipping out on a date with this guy, she thought, they’d be making a big mistake. She was in heat just looking at him.
“I keep my word,” Annabel said.
“Leave that for a minute,” he said, pointing to the pump nozzle. He took several steps back from her vehicle and wiggled his index finger at her.
Annabel stepped over the gas hose enticed by his charm. He wore the most mischievous smile like a best-selling country singer crooning out to an arena of females and since he had called her a ‘pretty lady,’ spending the next few hours with him in the sack could come to fruition.
He curled his fingers around a stem sticking into his back pocket and handed the whole thing to her. “It’s not easy picking out one rose from a selection of colors. The lady in the shop told me pink, yellow, white, and red have different meanings but damn if I know what they are. So I picked you out a deep, rich red. The inside of my car smells heavenly.”
Annabel accepted the rose while Tristan’s gaze darted behind her. “How thoughtful,” she said. She brought the flower up to her nose. “These days, I underst
and flowers from flower shops are fresher and more fragrant than the stacks you find at check-out lines in grocery stores. I think you stopped at a fine boutique.”
“I did,” he smiled. “First impressions are important.” He tilted his hat a little further on his forehead. “Come to think about it, there is something else I forgot to bring you. It’s not far from here. Why don’t you finish gassing up and paying and I’ll be back quickly. Then we can make a devilish plan.”
“I guess so,” Annabel said. “Although I’m practically finished here.”
“Not to worry,” he said and winked. “We can enjoy the whole night.” He took a short step.
“Okay. I’ll be inside.”
He patted her arm and they both turned around. Annabel cranked in a few more drops of gas and watched him as his pace quickened when he approached his car door and slipped inside. His vehicle left in the opposite direction he had come.
-----
Inside the convenience store, the curvy woman paid for her gas and then pondered over snack items down an aisle. The manager with a white shirt and dark features stared out the glass window at the scene outside. After a guy got out of his car, he walked over and talked with a woman behind her car. The little man paid closer attention. Did they know each other or was the rugged guy simply being extra-friendly?
The passenger door of the black sedan opened slowly and a male figure sneaked out. In a stooped over position, he walked between the two pumps to the red SUV. While the cowboy presented what appeared to be a flower to the young lady, the other man sneaked open her front passenger door and leaned in. He held something small when he backed out and gingerly moved the door almost closed. He ran back to the first car and, staying slightly crouched, he scurried back in.
The manager worked his station with what-to-do plans for both inside and outside robberies. No way would he ever go outside to confront anyone and get killed trying to protect someone or something else. Inside his store was another story. Without a moment’s hesitation, he held the store phone to his ear and dialed 911.
“I’m the manager of Murphy’s station on Brimstone and Market,” he said with a sing-song accent. “There’s a robbery in progress at the pumps.”