The Healing Quilt (34 page)

“I can just see this, the case of
Chihuahua v. English Bull Dog.
No judge in his or her right mind would take that one on.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Offer to pay the vet bills.”

“Vet bills, for a little scratch like that? I swear I'm taking this to one of those TV judges.”

“Yeah, it's about dumb enough to do that with, but this all comes back to the fire. Mrs. Smyth is out to get you over the power lines accident.”

“But the insurance paid for the entire thing. What in heavens name is she suing for?”

“Pain and suffering, of course.”

“There was no pain, only inconvenience. And that woman would suffer over a hangnail.”

“Especially if you caused it.” He answered someone else. “I gotta go. Thanks for the good laugh, and now you know what is happening. I'll keep you in the loop.”

“Thanks, I guess. If you can figure out some way to put a lid on that woman, I would gladly double your already astronomical fees.”

“I'm a miracle worker at times, dear Elaine, but I am not God.”

She hung up, chuckling along with him. Doodlebug leaped up into her lap as soon as she sat down and, after a quick chin kiss, turned around twice and lay down with a sigh.

“You know, you're the cause of this latest fracas. But you sure put that stupid Bootsie on the run.” She lifted his chin and looked in his
eyes.
“You know what, though? He could have eaten you with one gulp. Don't you go doing that again. You hear me?”

He blinked once and yawned, pink tongue with one brown spot on the tip curling and uncurling. Laying his head back on her thigh, he sighed again.

If only life were so easy. How in the world do I get even with that fool
next door? Something that will shut her down for good, or make her move out. There must be a way before something terrible happens.

Elaine spent the next hour on the phone before getting ready to meet Winston Henry Jefferson IV for lunch. While she showered, she thought about her presentation. What was the best way to get him to think her dream was his, that he came up with the idea of a major cancer center in Jefferson City first?

She was still mulling the ideas over as she drove to the restaurant.

She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and asked to be shown to their table. Long before, she'd learned the efficacy of being the first to arrive for any business presentation to establish her territory. She took the side of the booth facing the door so she could see him enter, pulled a small wrapped package out of her briefcase, and set it in the middle of the table. She thanked the waiter for bringing water and set the menus in place. Glancing around the room, she smiled at two women she knew, took a sip of water, and thought again about how to introduce her subject.

Winston Henry Jefferson IV entered the front door wearing his politicians smile and firm stride. The maitre d’ showed him back to the table and left him with a smile.

“Hello, Elaine, so good to see you.” He took her hand in a courtly manner, so reminiscent of an earlier time that she was sure she heard his heels click. “I hope I'm not late.”

“No, not at all.” She indicated the seat with one hand. “Sit and make yourself comfortable. I thought you might enjoy a booth more than the chairs.” In fact, she had asked the maitre d’ as to her guest's preference. Anything to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Oh, I do. You must be a mind reader.” Winston took his seat, unbuttoning his natural linen sports coat as he sat. “Nice day, isn't it?”

She nodded and pushed the package toward him. “I thought of you when I saw this.”

“How nice of you.” He unwrapped the silver box and held up a clear paperweight with a saying embossed in gold:
You can if you think you can.
“So very true.” His wide smile showed perfect orthodontic work. “Thank you.” He set the paperweight down on the table and leaned back, hands clasped on the table in front of him. “Have you decided yet what you will have?”

Elaine nodded. “I always have the chicken Caesar salad. Best I've had anywhere.”

“That sounds good. Think I'll do the same.” He set his menu off to the side, squaring the corner up with that of the table.

The waiter stopped at their table, and they gave their orders. Winston ordered a glass of wine, but Elaine declined, knowing that she needed the clearest head possible to put her plan into action.

Over the salad they talked about their families, hospital gossip, and the ubiquitous weather. When the waiter took their plates and refilled her iced tea, she leaned forward.

“Winston, you've done such an excellent job on the refurbishing of our hospital that I wondered if you've thought of other avenues to make Jefferson Memorial of more service for our community.”

“You didn't invite me to lunch to talk about the mammogram unit, did you?”

“No. We've already discussed that, and while I understand your position, I and the other women of the town will take care ofthat. I've been thinking of something more far reaching than one machine.”

“Really. And what might that be?”

Here we go.
She took another sip of her iced tea, keeping her gaze locked on his all the while. “Have you ever thought what an ideal place Jefferson City might be for a cancer center? Done right, I believe it could put our town on the map. We've been getting a lot of bad press regarding the transmission lines, so why not turn that to our advantage?”

“So why not?” He sat up straight and leaned slightly forward. “What do you have in mind?”

“A bigger hospital, oncology specialists, cooperation with alternative treatments, a place where one could come for total healing. We could be a teaching hospital. Perhaps one of the universities would have a satellite here. Bring new blood into town that would revitalize our entire area. We live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, and everyone knows that natural beauty helps restore peace and wholeness. We could call it the Angela Jefferson Women's Oncology Center, in honor of your mother, who did so much for this hospital in her lifetime.”

His eyes had brightened and he nodded repeatedly. “Perhaps if we'd had something like this here back then, she might still be alive today.”

“Perhaps so. Saving lives is what our hospital is all about.”

“That and improving the quality of life.” He took his glasses off and polished them with the table napkin. “A major cancer center, eh? My word, Elaine Giovanni, you do dream big. Have you mentioned this to George yet?”

She shook her head. “I thought as head of the board and benefactor, you would be the place to start.” She could tell by the cock of his head her words had pleased him.

“Something like this would take major doing, a lifetime perhaps.”

“But a worthy lifetime. What a difference it could make in people's lives, far beyond our scope to dream.”

“And it would be a solid investment also. State-of-the-art diagnostic equipment, the latest in medications, what about even a research wing? Perhaps a pharmaceutical involvement. We could offer stock as an investment opportunity. What if our scientists came up with a viable cure?”

“You would be carrying on a family tradition.” She gave him her warmest smile. “I have some information I've been collecting if you would like it. Other places have undertaken similar ventures. I thought to look into that eye clinic in Chehalis. They're the Nordstrom of corneal transplants, first-class service all the way, make their patients feel like royalty, really a class act.”

“We could be like that.”

The faraway look in his eyes gave her a secret smile. No doubt about it, he had caught the dream. Now to see what he would make of it.

She sat back and crossed her ankles, sipping her iced tea and dreaming dreams of her own. How to get even with Mrs. Bootsie.

“You would not believe what is going on at my house.” Elaine dumped her bag on a chair.

Teza looked up from tightening one of the corner clamps on the quilting frame. “No, what?”

“Well, I have a little fawn-and-white Chihuahua named Doodlebug, you know, a little dog.” Elaine held her hands for both height and length, neither large. “Our neighbor—she makes it her lifetime aim to keep friction going—has a fat, white English bulldog named Bootsie that looks amazingly like Mrs. Smyth-with-a-Y and insists on messing in our yard. The dog, not the woman.”

Chuckles set the others to sharing glances.

“Anyway, Monday my dog charged out the door as I was coming in, chased said dog out of our yard and, in the altercation, bit him. Drew blood. So now this charming candidate for the least-liked woman in the world, or at least the county, is suing me. And its not the first time…” Elaine waved her hands in the air. “I'm not telling you this story to create laughter, so could you just listen without howling.”

Kit and Teza glanced at each other and broke out again. Beth held her stomach, and Elsie Mae leaned against the wall, wiping her eyes.

“D-Doodlebug is how big?” Beth tried to keep a straight face.

Elaine showed the size again.

“And the neighbor dog, what's its name?”

“Bootsie.”

“Bootsie. I see.” She nodded, eyes wide. “And Bootsie is how big?”

Elaine held her hand about two feet off the floor. “Like that.” And spread her hands about a bit more than a foot apart. “And that wide.”

“And the bitty Doodlebug.

“He thinks he's a Rottweiler.”

“Uh-huh. Chased B-Bootsie out of your yard, even drew blood. Did your neighbor see all this?”

“No, but she and everyone else within three blocks heard it. Boot-sie screamed like he'd been maimed and then charged home. Of course leaving his mess behind.” Elaine made digging motions with her fingers. “And Doodlebug stood there, digging grass clippings and kicking them behind. You know how dogs do. Big studly dog.” Her eyebrows headed for her hairline. “Doing his best imitation of a big dog's bark and or growl. Bootsie could have eaten him with one gulp.”

“You could take this on a comedy show. You know, funniest home movies, that kind ofthing.” Elsie Mae sank down on the sofa, wiping her eyes. “I can just see it all. And I s'pose you were yellin at the other dog and callin’ to Doodlebug. And she was screaming. Good thing you weren't turned in for disturbing the peace.”

“There's no peace where that woman is concerned. None.” A chopping motion followed the words.

“So what are you going to do?” Kit shook her head. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, right. Big mess, big stinky mess, that's what he's been leaving in our yard for the last ten years.”

Beth looked around at the others. “What can she do?”

“Put up a fence? It wouldn't have to be high to keep a fat dog like that from jumping over.”

“Restrictions from the homeowners association. No fences beyond the front corners of the houses. We thought to do that, even filed a special petition.”

“She actually filed a suit against you?”

Elaine nodded. “She's an ambulance-chasing-attorney's dream. Her regular attorney wouldn't even take this one. He doesn't have to bother. He's gotten rich on all her other cases.” Elaine dug her sewing kit out of her bag. “Well, since you already have the frame set up, we might as well get to this. If you think of any solutions, let me know.”

“Well, the Bible says heap burning coals of kindness on your enemy's head.” Teza threaded her needle.

“I'd heap burning coals all right, but the law might get upset.”

“No, of kindness.” Beth pulled a chair over to the frame.

“We have always tried to be good neighbors. Back in the early days we invited them for barbecue, included them in the neighborhood gatherings, sent over Christmas presents, you know, all the friendly stuff.” Elaine shook her head and kept on shaking it. “Not anymore. But getting even sounds like a wonderful idea. I'm just not sure how—yet.”

“So it isn't just Bootsie.” Kit sat down, threaded needle in hand. “By the way, Sue can't make it today.”

Elaine watched as Kit tied a knot in the end of her thread. “That's different. Can you show me how?”

Kit demonstrated wrapping the thread around the needle and pulling it all through. “Makes a strong, but nearly invisible, knot.”