CHAPTER NINE
H
E
HAD
SCREWED
UP
royally. It was Friday again. D-day plus five, and he was still pinned down at the water’s edge taking heavy fire. He had thought he’d handled that out-of-nowhere kiss pretty well Sunday night, even though it had shaken him to the soles of his feet. No use denying it. He was falling for her, and it couldn’t be happening at a more inopportune moment.
It wasn’t that she was his boss. He suspected they could grow into a heck of a medical team with time and trust. But being a team meant staying together. He had no intention of leaving the town he’d come to regard as home, no matter what other opportunities might come his way. But Callie wasn’t as certain of her future as he was. He knew, and he suspected she did, too, that long-distant relationships didn’t work. So where did that leave them?
Plain and simple, kissing Callie Layman was playing havoc with his peace of mind and keeping him awake at night. But he’d managed a smile that wasn’t a grimace and kept it all as light and casual as humanly possible when he’d left her. He’d even convinced himself it had worked.
He’d been wrong.
She’d been gone when he woke up Monday morning. He couldn’t explain how he knew she wasn’t there, on the other side of the too-thin wall, but she wasn’t. And she’d stayed away as much as possible since, spending her evenings at the White Pine, or out at her mother’s place, or doing some shopping in Petoskey and at the town’s galleries with Gerry Seamann and even once with Ginger.
It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what she was up to. He’d spotted her heading out of town toward her mom’s place after office hours with a basket of laundry under her arm. He’d glimpsed her climbing the outside stairs to the family quarters above the White Pine as he drove by in his truck. Two watercolors he’d previously noticed hanging in the gallery beside the bar and grill had appeared on her office wall. Since they were a pretty good size, in heavy rustic-style frames, he figured she’d asked her dad to help hang them.
Last night he’d watched from his porch as she and Becca and Brandon had canoed out to the raft to catch the heavenly light show of the Perseid meteor shower. He’d been watching the fire in the sky, too, from the shadows of the porch and saw them sneak down to the dock, flashlights bobbing, the twins arguing as usual, Callie shushing them with a silvery giggle that lifted the hairs on his arms and made him long to feel her lips beneath his again.
He’d been happy to see her getting along so well with the twins, but their little expedition gave rise to darker musings. Had that been her first trip to the raft? Or had she been out there before, maybe with her old high-school boyfriend or a lost love from college?
He didn’t know where she was every hour of the night when she wasn’t at the clinic. He just knew where she wasn’t—home.
In the office, it wasn’t a lot different. She wasn’t cold or unfriendly; she simply avoided him as much as humanly possible. Bonnie and Leola noticed the lengths Callie went to avoid being alone with him, though he was pretty sure none of the patients did.
And there had been a lot of patients over the past week. It was the time of year for high-school athletic physicals, so members of the football, basketball and volleyball teams, as well as cross-country runners, had Callie and Zach hustling to stay on schedule. If anyone caught them together in the hallway or jotting patient notes at the reception area, she always had something to say to him, a little joke to pass on or small talk, the kind strangers on a bus might share, otherwise he got the silent treatment. As for her patients, she was charm personified. She was working very hard at gaining the respect of the citizens of White Pine Lake, and she was doing an excellent job of it.
But did that mean she’d decided to stay when the position was officially offered, as he was convinced it would be? Did it mean he had a chance with her?
On that thought, her laughter drifted down the hall. He’d been standing in the reception area, reading lab reports. Bonnie was with his next patient, the White Pine High School’s Loggers quarterback, taking his vitals and medical history. Leola was checking the appointment log for someone she was talking to on the phone. She hadn’t seemed to notice the strain beneath Callie’s soft, rich laughter. But he did; and he realized he was going to have a lot of explaining to do. Soon.
Callie had just ushered an elderly couple in their late seventies out of one of the exam rooms. Eno and Miriam Amstutz had lived on a small farm outside White Pine Lake since Eno had returned from Korea with a bright-eyed, soft-spoken USO girl from Alabama on his arm.
“If you call him up in Arizona, your grandfather will tell you I’m speaking the gospel truth,” Eno was saying to her. “No one, including your grandfather old Jack Richard, would believe my Southern belle would last through that first bad winter.”
“But I did,” Miriam said with a sad, sweet smile that faltered a little and echoed the sorrow he saw lurking in Callie’s eyes. “Even though there was snow up to the eaves and no indoor plumbing and me with a baby on the way.”
“And she’s stuck it through sixty more since then,” Eno said with pride.
“I tried to call my grandparents yesterday,” Callie said, her tone bright, the distress she must be experiencing completely under control. “I got their answering machine. I forgot their euchre club meets on Thursdays.”
“Old J.R.’s been playing euchre since he was a boy. He’s hard to beat, especially when he teams up with your grandma.”
“I’m afraid I take after my mother when it comes to playing cards. The Layman cardsharp gene was left out of my DNA,” Callie said with a grin.
He should have talked to her about Eno and Miriam before this. He had figured they would want to be assigned to Callie’s care, but somehow he and Callie hadn’t discussed the couple that morning at the duplex, and that was his fault, too.
Eno and Callie’s grandfather had been friends for nearly seventy years. Their children had grown up with Callie’s father and her aunt, he’d learned from the couple. Callie had probably gone to school with one or two of their many grandchildren. It was the sort of intertwining of generations and families you found in small towns everywhere.
And Callie had just discovered Eno was dying. And very soon; most likely he would not be alive to celebrate another Christmas with his beloved Miriam and their large family.
Zach didn’t have to have been present in the exam room to guess what had happened. Callie would have opened the old man’s chart and glanced over the most recent blood-test results, and her brain would have given her the diagnosis in a matter of seconds: a chronic form of leukemia, caused by a gradual shutting down of the bone marrow.
It would have taken longer for her heart to come to grips with the evidence before her. So she would have bought herself a little breathing room by leafing through the past few months of test results, all the while aware two sets of wise old eyes were following her every move. And in Miriam’s eyes, a silent plea for Callie to tell her something other than what they all knew to be the truth. Then she would have asked Eno all the questions Zach himself had asked the old man every two weeks for the past several months: How was he sleeping, how was he eating, was he in pain? Eno’s answers were always the same: good, good, how could he not be eating with the best cook in White Pine Lake fixing his meals and no, he was not in pain. If his red-cell count was too low, Zach would make arrangements for an appointment with the specialist in Petoskey for a blood transfusion. If the numbers were stable, Zach would send him home to sit on his porch and play with his dogs and his great-grandchildren for a few more weeks or months.
Through the door, Zach could see Eno leaning against the counter. He was a tall, stooped man with the telltale bruising and pale skin that telegraphed his illness to an educated observer. “When are your grandparents coming back this way?” he asked as Callie approached.
“In the fall.” Callie smiled, but Zach noticed the strain was beginning to wear on her. “He’s planning on being home for Thanksgiving and the opening of deer season. It depends on Grandma’s arthritis, though. She’s not used to the cold weather anymore.”
“We hope Evelyn’s well enough to travel,” Miriam said, lifting her chin as if defying anyone to contradict her. “We’re anxious to have them home again. Aren’t we, Eno?”
“Yes, dear,” he said, patting her shoulder. She shifted a few inches closer, her hand lightly touching his arm. “We’re always happy to see Jack and Evelyn. It’s like old times when they’re back in town.”
“Yes, and you two can remember the days when you were randy young bucks out chasing all the pretty girls in town,” Miriam teased.
“Those days ended for both of us the day we met the loves of our life.” Eno smiled down at her and in his eyes he obviously still saw the beautiful young Southern belle he’d fallen in love with so many years earlier.
“Save your breath, Eno. I’m too old to fall for that sweet talk at my age.” But she blushed as though she was still nineteen and ready to fall in love.
“You come along to visit, too, when Jack Richard and Evelyn come out to the farm,” she said to Callie. “Promise?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Callie said.
“We’ll see you around,” Eno said, then, noticing Zach, he lifted his hand in a half wave. “You, too, Doc.”
“Take it easy, Eno.” Zach gave the old man a two-fingered salute.
“Remember you have blood work scheduled first thing Tuesday morning, Eno,” Leola said, handing Miriam an appointment card. “Don’t forget or I’ll have to come out to the farm to get you,” she teased, but there was strain in her voice, as well.
“She never lets me forget,” Eno groused but the look he gave his wife was filled with close to six decades of love and respect. “She started bossing me around two hours after we met.”
“And I intend to keep doing just that as long as the good Lord’s willing.” She took his hand and they walked slowly across the reception area to the exit, nodding and speaking to everyone on the way, pausing long enough to admire Gerry Seamann and the baby, who had just arrived for a vaccination. A minute later Eno pushed open the glass doors and let Miriam precede him out into the warm August afternoon. Everyone was quiet a moment, watching them walk down the wooden ramp to their car, all of the staff aware it could be the last time they saw them together this way.
“Oh, dear,” Leola said, her eyes darting between Callie and Zach. “I—” But she didn’t finish what she’d been going to say, as Gerry arrived at the reception window to sign herself and the baby in for their appointment.
Callie’s face was a mask of studied calm. It was the expression every medical student achieved early on in their career to hide their true emotions. She avoided Zach after one quick, icy moment of eye contact. “I’ll be in my office, Leola,” she said. “Tell Gerry I’ll be with her in just a minute or two.”
* * *
S
HE
WOULD
NOT
CRY
.
She had no choice. She had patients waiting and she couldn’t have red, swollen eyes. Gerry, surely, would know something was wrong. Then she would ask why Callie was upset. How could she reveal to her friend that Zach Gibson was deliberately trying to sabotage her career?
What else could it be, after all? Why else wouldn’t he have informed her of Eno’s prognosis? Otherwise, why wouldn’t he have officially handed over the older couple’s care to her that Friday morning at the duplex and not blindsided her this way?
She had certainly been mistaken in her judgment—and admiration—of the man. Had he been plotting this betrayal the night he kissed her? Did he think so little of her?
She didn’t have long to nurse her indignation and try to ignore the ache in the region of her heart. She should have figured he wouldn’t let her alone. He didn’t even bother to knock, just opened the door and walked in.
“Callie, we need to talk.”
She stood at the window with her back to him. It was a warm, humid day with the threat of thunderstorms predicted for late evening and throughout the night. The windows were shut and the air-conditioning turned on, so she couldn’t feel the humid breeze that stirred the tops of the trees or hear the katydids chirping in the tall grass. “I ought to make you call me Dr. Layman,” she said. She was ashamed of the pettiness of the demand the moment it left her lips, but she was too upset to apologize immediately. She crossed her arms under her breasts and continued to stare out at the grass in the meadow that was bright with stalks of goldenrod and purple wild aster. It was the middle of August now, and allergy season was in full swing.
“As you wish. We need to talk, Dr. Layman,” he said.
She whirled away from the window. “Was that some kind of test?” she asked, hoping the anger would keep her tears at bay. “Did you want to observe how I’d react to that kind of traumatic situation—learning a man I consider my second grandfather is dying without a hint of warning?”
“I didn’t realize you were that close to him.”
“Well, I am. I love them both.”
“It was a slipup on my part. I apologize, sincerely. You’re not the only one who’s an outsider. I haven’t spent my whole life in this town. I’m doing the best I can to figure all the interconnections out.”
“Someone should have told me he was ill.”
“Eno doesn’t want it all over town that he’s dying. He’s a proud man. I couldn’t go against his wishes.”
“Still—”
“I would have thought your father would tell you.”
“I... He’s never said a word.” She fell silent a moment, considering. “I’m not sure he knows.”
“I meant to bring up Eno’s case that Friday, but it slipped my mind. Eno wasn’t even supposed to be in here today. His regular appointment isn’t scheduled until the first of next week.”
“It’s my fault,” Bonnie cut in.
Zach and Callie had been standing an arm’s length apart, glaring at each other. Now they swiveled their heads as though they were two puppets controlled by the same pair of hands. Bonnie stood in the open doorway, her dark eyes bleak, her expression filled with remorse. “Miriam called this morning to ask if there was an opening this afternoon. They want to get away for a couple of days. Go visit their daughter in Rogers City. She said Eno wanted to cancel his appointment altogether, but that made Miriam nervous, so he agreed to come in today if we could work him in.” She held out her hand. “I’m sorry. Zach, you didn’t have an opening and they said they would be happy to see Dr. Layman. Leola was busy on the other line. I just penciled him in,” the nurse said apologetically. She used the formal title Callie had demanded of Zach, a measure of the nurse’s distress. “I had no idea you were unaware of Eno’s diagnosis, Dr. Layman. I...I thought you must know, your family being so close to the Amstutzes and all.”