That Lucy gives methe distinct impression she’s flirting with me. She’s beautiful and she’s classy, just like Jamison’s crazy, racy car. She’s way too high voltage for someone like me – a cynic – but when she turns away from me I’m disappointed.
Can I rearrange my day? Though I love my son, l see him every week, and lunch with Lucy could be fun. I want to gaze into those magnificent eyes over a cold glass of white wine, to find out more about her, to forget ...
“Thanks so much for dropping in – twice,” Jill says as I pull my gaze away from the woman and hunt for the car keys. Oh. That’s right. It starts without a key. Ingenious. Confusing.
“And for your absolute generosity with that dress and my customer here, the lucky Lucy.”
“Isn’t Dirk lovely,” says Lucy, just loud enough for me to hear. It’s flattering to imagine she’s interested in me. At my age!
“How do you two know each other?” Lucy asks Jill.
Time rushes on. I’ll be late for my lunch with Jamison. He’s a stickler for keeping appointments, so I head towards the door, ready to do battle with a few more features of the car.
“Take care,” calls Jill. She stares at Lucy, and carefully raises one eyebrow with her glance back at me. I know that look. It’s a clear warning.
“Of course,” I say. “You too.” Jill’s always had my best interests at heart. She’s been right before about things; kept me out of trouble now and then, but I’m a grown man with my own ideas and good sense.
“Delighted to meet you Lucy,” I say, if only to remind Jill she’s not my keeper. Yes, I’ve kept a clear eye out for Jill since her no-good husband left her with two sons to raise alone, and yes, I funded this business to keep her on her feet. It’s what any good brother would do if they had the means.
“Promise you’ll call me?” Lucy says. Her touch on my arm is soft and more welcome than I want to admit. Nobody touches me like that now; nobody has for years.
“I owe you,” says Lucy, all doe eyes. “I am definitely paying you back if this stain comes out.” It’s endearingly coquettish, but surely she realizes I’m wise to women like her.
“Don’t worry about it.” I mean it. Life is short. Jill’s whole stock value is like play money to me now the practice is sold. And after losing Millie, and realizing how the decades fly past, money seems like the least important thing in the world.
It’s only as I get back in the car, work out how to start it again and head up the street towards Jamison’s business that I see a parking infringement officer booking another car. Okay. So Lucy saved me a fine.
Her perfume lingers in the car all the way to Jamison’s building. It reminds me of something from my childhood, of my grandmother’s garden. Of orange blossoms and ripe peaches, warmed from the sun, of high summer. I haven’t thought of her in years. But the fragrance has other associations – temptations. Night gardens. Something exotic and slightly dangerous.
I never daydream like this. I’ll be late. I park underneath and take the elevator to the twentieth floor before I realize I forgot to give Jill the good news I’m cancelling her loan.
But it’s Lucy I can’t get out of my head as the elevator whooshes skywards – her elegance, her eyes.
“So do you want one, Dad?” Jamison is waiting for me in reception.
“What’s that?”
“A convertible. Do you want one?”
“Never had much interest in fancy cars, son. Gives me a workout just getting in and out of the thing. Never realized how out of shape I was.”
“Come on, Dad. You’re not that old and you’re as fit as I am. You know it was fun to drive.” His smile is convincing, but I shrug. Cars have never been a priority. Not sure what my priorities are just now. I’m a fish out of water, living in the city – no more patients, no more Millie.
Despite his crisp suit and confident air, Jamison’s on edge. Is this about me? Or about his business? I never understood finance. Smoke and mirrors. From what I see, he and his partners take people’s money, move it around, and give a few bucks back now and then.
I study my son, the image of myself at that age, good looking, even if I say so myself; upstanding, a great sportsman. Like me, Jamison also bent to the books, made the most of his education, worked hard and made a name for himself.
Sure, my business was family medicine in Franklin, Millie’s home town, and Jamison is now a partner in this fancy company, but I can’t fault my boy. Jamison stepped up when Millie died, joined forces with Jill and Dee to convince me to move to the city. He’s the one who found me my new place, top floor in an older block of apartments. Jamison even found the invisible Mrs West to keep the place clean and cook a few meals for me each week. All that is appreciated.
Jamison tells his receptionist we’ll be gone for an hour or two. I never had that luxury. Sandwiches in the clinic for me, every day for thirty years, except on Sundays. That’s all over now.
Jamison’s club is full of people like him – still a shock for me. I’m used to actual cowboys – old fashioned, salt of the earth people, in home-knitted sweaters and worn-out jeans. These men, with their perfect white smiles, are in slick suits. They nod or wave at Jamison and he smiles back, all confidence.
I’m as uncomfortable here as I was in Franklin, for different reasons, but Jamison seems at ease. I follow him to a table by the window and try to find something plain enough on the menu to order.
