It definitely wasnotbecause I’d spent the weekend with my boyfriend, including an actual off-islanddateat a brew pub called the Barrel House, which was owned by Fenn’s friend Luke, where they had anactualmenu and where I’d gotten to meet Fenn’s youngest cousin, Gage, for the first time. It was not because Luke had made eyes at Fenn just long enough for me to truly understand the value of public displays of affection, or because I’d then whispered lots of very innocent questions about the anatomical possibility of certain sex acts very hotly in Fenn’s ear, or because Fenn had then kissed me right in the middle of the restaurant, called me a “troublemaker,” and sat with his arm over my shoulders for the rest of the night.
It was certainly not because I was getting blown or jerked off every single evening and most mornings, too, and each time was better than the time before.
It was not because I’d taken Toby’s advice to heart, stopped overthinking, and let myself be happy.
I picked up my coffee and took an appreciative sip. “Don’t tell Lety I said this, but Scotty at the Bean does a better skinny latte than she does, and he remembers I like it with the poison sugar in the colored pack.”
Taffy blinked down at the bag in her hands. “DoesLety do a skinny latte?”
I snorted. “Uh,no. She only serves instant coffee. But the first morning I went in there, that’s what I asked for, so theneverymorning after that, she’d laugh and hand me a cup of instant and say, ‘I got your skinny latte, Dr. Mason.’” I rolled my eyes as I took my white coat down from the hook on the back of the office door. “I don’t feel too bad about deserting her since Lety was behind me in line at the Bean today, herself.”
“And what’s this?” Taffy asked, looking in the bag.
“That’s a Florida Sunrise Muffin, with oranges, pineapple, pecans, and coconut.”
“In a muffin?” She took a cautious sniff.
“It’s either going to be glorious or horrifying, Taff. Either way, I decided we should experience it together.”
Taffy laughed and shook her head, folding the bag closed. “Mr. Goodman called a few minutes ago to see if you could squeeze him in this morning. You’ve got Ms. Beecham coming at 9:30, but you might just have time now. Or, if not, you could see him after Ms. Frye comes at 10:00.”
I hesitated. Over the past couple of weeks, I’d gotten even more convinced that Gloria and Big Rafe were athing, but it was also pretty clear she wasn’t sharing her health concerns with him for whatever reason.
“Better make it now, Taff, if he can get here fast. Is he coming for a checkup?”
Big Rafe seemed like the sort of person who’d rather die than admit to his own mortality by visiting a doctor.
“Don’t think so. He said aconsultation.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means. If I were a betting woman, I’d say he was coming to ask you to do something for the Labor Day Extravaganza.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Like, being on call or running a medical tent?”
“Maybe that, too. But you know there’s gonna be a talent show the Friday night before the big concert, right?”
“This sounds vaguely familiar from one of the planning meetings Fenn dragged me to. It’s still months and months away, though!”
Time on Whispering Key moved fast and slow all at once. July had seemed ages away when Mr. Wynott first asked me to watch Topaz, and now it was just six weeks away. I didn’t want to think about Labor Day in September and where I might be by then. Leaving the island was becoming harder and harder to think about, yet staying here seemed impossible, and thinking about any kind of change made me vaguely jittery.
“I know, but it’s the most exciting thing to happen here this millennium, so folks are pretty excited, and they’re having a time trying to find an impartial judge. Bubba Irvine wanted to do it, but he and Scott Blanchard had words a couple years back over a dog Scott wanted to buy—”
“Wait, Scotty who makes my coffee?”
“You’re so cute, Doc.” She laughed. “Yeah, that Scotty. He and Bubba are friendly enough these days, but you can bet if one of them says the sky is blue, the other’s gonna say it’s purple. So, last night at the Concha,Scottysaid he didn’t trustBubbato judge impartially. AndBubbasaid good luck finding someonemoreimpartial, and he wasn’t gonna be okay with any ofScotty’s friends doing the judging.” Her head ticked from side to side like a metronome as she recounted each side of the conversation. “AndScottysaid what about Dr. Bloom, andBubbacouldn’t think of a darn thing to say because he trusts you, too.” She shrugged. “So, you’re it.”
“Ah. Because I don’t know anyone and haven’t heard about their feuds, so I’m impartial.”
“No, silly! Because you knoweveryone, and you’re friendly with them all. All of them think you like thembest. You’re good at that.”
I frowned. Was I? The idea made my chest feel warm.
“Anyway! I’ll let Mr. Goodman know. And I’ll try to get him to fill out a new patient form when he gets here.”
Taffy strode out of the office, and I grinned at her retreating back as I took a bite of my surprisingly yummy muffin. After a couple of weeks where the woman couldn’t speak without ending everything as a question, she’d settled down into one of the most competent, intuitive medical office managers I’d ever worked with.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, already smiling because I knew who it would be. Myboyfriend—and yeah, that was still a mindfuck to think about—must have just gotten back into a cell service area.
Fenn:Loafers, what the hell is this list you sent me?
I grinned and bit my lip.
