Healing Touch (7 page)

“Maggie thought you might be stopping by for
more than just medical reasons.” She baited me into telling her
more.

“No! I’ve been to his office because he’s
been trying to convince me to get a biopsy.” I poked my head out
the bathroom door to look at the kids playing in the TV room. Zach
and Cody had a monstrous fort built. Every blanket and pillow in
the house was draped over couches and chairs. Dinosaurs and army
men decorated the roof tops.

I examined my decorated face in the mirror.
My sister made even me look good. Without a word Leah stuffed the
lipstick and a few other things into my purse. I’d have to remind
myself to reapply during the evening.

“Shoot. There’s nothing going on between you
two? He sure looked glad to see you and Cody yesterday at the
parade. That is, until you bit his head off for no reason. The guy
looked like a lost puppy watching you walk away.”

“He did not.”

“Seriously, I think he likes you. God knows
why.” Leah picked up a lint roller and cleaned off my shirt.
“Haven’t you noticed?”

“Well…” I debated if I should tell her. I
knew she wouldn’t gossip about me. I learned of her loyalty during
the early days of my separation. Town folk were just aching for
some information but she never revealed a word. I could tell her
anything. Funny thing was I didn’t. My personal life remained
private even to family. “Never mind.”

“Oh, my God! Tell me! Tell me everything!”
She threw the roller on the counter and dug her fingers into my
upper arms as if the claw marks would force me spill juicy
information.

“Ouch! It’s really not even worth
mentioning.”

“What? If you don’t tell me right now I’m
going to explode!”

“Well, he said he liked me. That he was
attracted to me.” Leah’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider. “I
thought he was just being friendly so I’d agree to his medical
recommendations, but apparently not.”

Her jaw dropped to match her bulging eyes.
“You thought he was flirting with you just to get you to have blood
work done or something?”

“I know it sounds bad. I felt awful after I
realized how insulting I was. I guess I should have figured it out
when he kissed me.”

“He what?”

“Shh. Gez, Leah. Yeah, so he kissed me,” My
gaze feel to the floor. “A few times.”

“Oh, good dear God, Tracy. I don’t
understand. You two should be going out, he should be on his way
here to pick you up. What did you do to scare him away?”

I gathered my strength and tried to sound as
convincing as possible. “I told him I wasn’t interested in him and
never would be.”

In a very typical older sister style, Leah
turned and stomped out of the room. Her departing words were
“You’re an idiot.”

****

In Cherryville the bars pack to capacity with
current and previous residents a few evenings a year; the night of
the homecoming dance, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and the
weekend of Watermelon Days. People will schedule their annual trips
back to town around these dates. Local brides never hold their
weddings on the same night as these events. If they do, a majority
of their guest list will be found downtown instead of at the
Knights of Columbus Hall.

Main Street Cherryville has a liquor serving
establishment about every five buildings - on both sides. Each
location has its own personality and clientele. Over the years,
I’ve seen the faces change, but the crowd dynamics remain
consistent.

Paul’s has always attracted the youngest
crowd. The freshly legal faces are beaming with happiness. They
can’t wait to throw out the names of creative drinks to the
bartender. I’ll have a Sex on the Beach, Purple Monkey, Wombat,
etc. The jukebox plays loud pop songs, tables are few, and the
women in the beer posters have very little clothing on. The most
prominent characteristic of Paul’s is the dance floor. Younger
drinkers dance.

Families, who want to be a part of the
festivities, but have young children in tow, hang out at the
restaurants on Main. It’s nearly impossible to find a sitter on
these nights. If an aging grandmother is still somewhat capable of
caring for kids, she is sure to be found at home with the grandkids
and a few neighbor children as well.

As the townies age and mellow, most will
migrate to The Blue Note. Here music is kept at a low level, there
are plenty of tables for chatting or poker and people order drinks
with names everyone has heard of. These drinks come in two
varieties: clear or some shade of brown. The dead animals
decorating the paneled perimeter are an integral part of bar
discussions. The largest dead animal in the room produced the most
conversation. Bob Schmidt claims he shot the ten point buck while
perched high in his deer stand. His hunting buddies swear Bob was
behind a bush reading the newspaper. Hanging the mounted head near
the bathrooms added to the fun of telling the story.

I headed to the bar that fit my personality,
Axle’s. It could be labeled a biker bar except that most of the
regulars owned big tricked out trucks instead. The small parking
lot behind the bar glowed with bright lights. Some said it was like
this to prevent theft, but I knew it was so the guys could gather
and brag about their vehicles well into the night. The sign outside
read Corner Bar, but only someone not from, or new to town called
it that. Many years ago one of the original owners of the bar had a
dog named Axle. The dog would accompany the man in the bar. A
picture of him is still taped to the cash register; the dog’s, not
the man’s.

A few people lingered and chatted on the
front sidewalk as I pulled up. I left any potential parking spots
open in the back for guys with a praise worthy truck. My rusty four
door sedan didn’t belong back there.

With a bar like Axle’s, you didn’t have to
worry about meeting up with a friend elsewhere in advance or even
picking a specific time to arrive. The second you walked in the
door, all eyes would turn and you instantly were folded into the
atmosphere.

I saw Randy and Chuck near the pool table and
waved, acknowledging I knew where they were. Three conversations
took place on my way to the bartender. Before I reached the highly
polished counter, a beer was already in my hand. I had brought
about thirty dollars with me, but knew I wouldn’t spend a dime.

The evening started early in small towns on
these nights. There were so many people to talk to. If you were
fashionably late you’d be accused of ‘having something better to
do.’ Getting out of that insult took a little time and a damn good
excuse.

All the patrons of Axle’s drank beer, in
bottles. A woman with a glass of white wine in her hand was either
a new girlfriend or an out of town cousin visiting for the
holidays. Most of these women switched to beer after the first
glass anyway because the stale wine tasted awful. The comment of
“I’ll drink anything white” didn’t apply in this case.

The jukebox got shoved in the back near the
pool table. Steve, the current owner, loaded it with only country
music. Not one oldie or pop songs were among the 200 title
choices.

Chuck kept feeding it with quarters and
pushing buttons. He’d had a few too many beers and queued up so
many songs they’d still be playing for the seven a.m. cleaning
crew. Randy took his wallet and keys away and said he’d give him
back both after he drove him home.

The guys from the shop, their wives and
girlfriends and I settled in deep conversation. The same old
stories were told about practical jokes and mishaps at the garage.
Buzz had created a faux frame for my used tire invoice of $55,750.
He teased Stan Kimble, the guy who ordered the tire, that the
interest on the unpaid balance was piling up.

I planned to say hi to a few people, stay the
required amount of time to be able to leave without protest, and
then head home. Before I knew it the clock said eleven p.m. All
ideas of going to bed early went out the window.

The crowd thinned and I started nursing my
beer. If it got below half full someone would buy me another. Two
fisted drinking in a small town is not a sign of a problem, but
instead an indication of generous friends.

Just before midnight all eyes turned to the
front entrance to watch the new face enter. Green eyed, handsome
Dr. Jeremy Nelson stood out in his khakis and his borrowed letter
jacket. He took long strides through the room full of black
t-shirts and leather jackets. The distance between us closed and he
stared at me with an angry, determined look. I wondered which would
be worse, staying in my current position and enduring the
inevitable scene or racing out the back door.

Part IV

I decided to stand my ground. “Hi Dr. Nelson,
I was just leaving.”

“Tracy, we need to talk.” He nodded to the
group behind me. “Randy, Chuck, Buzz, ladies, how are you this
evening?” He didn’t wait for an answer and dragged me off to the
side by my elbow.

“Will you knock it off? People are
starring!”

“I could care less if this ends up on the
evening news. You’re spreading rumors about me!” His face was too
close for my comfort.

“What are you talking about? Remember, I’m
the patient that hates gossip.” I backed up a foot or so but he
followed.

“You told people I was dating Tanya
Beckford.”

Oh that. Well, I didn’t actually tell people
they were dating. I just mentioned to a couple of my friends at the
game that they looked cute together at the parade.

“I didn’t say you two were dating. Aren’t you
dating?” I didn’t care. Why did I ask that?

Jeremy removed his jacket and tossed it on a
nearby chair. He moved further into my personal space and put his
hands on my upper arms.

“Tracy, I kissed you about two weeks ago. Do
you think I’ve replaced you that quickly? Is that what you think of
me?”

I glanced around to room to notice we were
the center of attention.

“Well, I don’t really think about you at all,
Jeremy.” It was a damn good lie but delivered in a 100%
unconvincing fashion.

“Bullshit!”

“Jeremy!” A few of the bar patrons laughed.
“You need to back off and stop touching me. People are watching
us.” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp but was unsuccessful.

“You seem to care so much about what people
think and say about you. Well you know what? I don’t care at all. I
like you, Tracy. I don’t care if people see us together, listen to
our conversation or watch us slow dance and gaze into each others
eyes.”

I looked at him shocked and horrified at his
last suggestion. “There is no way in hell…”

“Oh no, why not? Are you afraid people will
see you let your guard down, show them you’re happy?” He let go of
my shoulders and started digging in his pants pockets.

“What are you doing?”

The doctor found a couple quarters and
stepped back to the jukebox. “I’m going to play a slow song so we
can dance.”

“What!” I prepared to protest but realized he
had a problem. Before he could drop the quarters I put my hand over
the coin slot. “Don’t even bother, Jeremy. Chuck has feed this
thing with about $22 already tonight. He tends to like Hank
Williams Jr. or anything with a country-rock beat to it.” Jeremy
glanced at my friends. “So, you’ll have to come back tomorrow if
you want to hear your song. Besides,” I announced sarcastically,
“no one dances in this bar!”

My triumphant grin faded quickly. The fates
were not with me that night because just as I finished my last
sentence the song on the jukebox switched and a light tinkling
melody of a Garth Brooks ballad started. I turned to Chuck and sent
him such a dirty look he hid behind Randy.

“What’d I do?” he slurred.

“Perfect,” Jeremy said as he grabbed my hand
and started sliding tables and chairs back to make a small dance
floor.

I tried to resist but realized I was drawing
more attention to us. If that was even possible. “We are not going
to dance in here! Didn’t you hear what I said? People don’t dance
in this place!”

Jeremy placed my hands around his neck and
circled my waist with his arms. “I think you have it wrong,
look.”

Near the back wall Randy and his wife swayed
to the music. Chuck and a gal I’d seen around before were making
their way toward us. “Fucking hell.”

“I’m going to have to break you of that
habit.” His arms tightened around me.

“Don’t you dare pull me in against you.”

“Why not? Afraid you’ll like it too
much?”

“Shut up.” So what if my thoughts screamed
yes.

I couldn’t believe these people were dancing!
Ever since turning legal and my first visit to this bar I’d never
seen anyone dance in here. My sister Leah joined in with her
husband near the bar. She caught me looking at her and winked. I
mouthed back ‘traitor’ and stuck out my tongue.

Steve dimmed the lights and Jeremy pressed
his check against my temple. “Please, Tracy, give us a chance. Your
words say one thing but your eyes say another. I know you have
feelings for me.”

All I could do was shake my head no. The tone
in my voice would have given me away. He was right. I wanted so bad
just to hold him and not care about anyone seeing us. To kiss like
Randy and his wife were doing just then. No cares, no rumors.

“OK, I’ll bring up a new subject then,” he
said sarcastically. “How’s you neck? Any more trouble swallowing?
Does it hurt when you press it?”

“Oh my god I’m not going to have to worry
about this lump soon because you’re giving me ulcers.” I had to
laugh. The man was persistent. Our eyes met and for a moment I
wanted to feel his stubble against my lips.

“Tracy, please. Will you give me a
chance?”

I stared at the wall behind him to avoid the
temptation of his skin. A vision of Cody and Jeremy popped into my
head. The little boy’s eyes lit up when the doctor was around. How
is it that seeing the two of them together made me so happy? These
weren’t just memories, my mind created future scenarios of piggy
back rides, water balloon fights and little league.