“I will. And I still need more golf lessons from the multiple majors winner turned actor, Daniel Campbell.”
I felt myself sigh and breathe out relief.
“I have to go. Genie is still here, working late with me, and I want to let her go. But talk soon?”
“Wouldn’t miss talking to you ever, Birdie.”
She disconnected the call without anything further. And I had no idea what the warm feeling in my chest was, but it was there, pulsing and breathing life into me.
Maybe it was the scotch?
Wren
“Good morning, Mrs. Smith. How do you feel this morning?”
“Not bad. Thank you, Dr. Bianchi.”
I smiled at my patient before logging into the computer and reviewing her electronic medical record. Sixty-eight-year-old Mrs. Smith, her brown hair peppered with gray and skin slightly filled with whatever her dermatologist or plastics doc recommended, watched me with a grin. For someone who had a knee replacement the day before, she seemed awfully happy.
“Well, due to your high risk for infection, I’m glad we kept you last night, and we will hold on to you for one more night. And then you will move to a rehabilitation center for a few days. Before you know it, that knee will be back to new.”
Despite mostly seeing sports-related injuries, working with a number of notable athletes at a time, I saw older patients a few days a month for knees and hips. If I wasn’t going to be aveterinarian, I was going to do things on my own terms and help a population in need.
“Yes, I understand. They took my blood sugar this morning and it’s stable. I’m going to be ready to roll.”
Mrs. Smith battled with her weight and keeping her type 2 diabetes under control; an infection would be harder for her to battle so we were keeping a watch on it all.
“I see that,” I told her, noting her blood sugar numbers. “It’s excellent news. I understand that you’re going to rehab at a place close to your son’s house, which means you will see me in six weeks for a follow-up appointment.”
“Speaking of the devil, she is moving in right by me. At least for a bit.” A tall man around my age entered the room in a full suit and tie, Ferragamo loafers, with shiny white teeth, and a mega Rolex on his wrist. “Thad Smith.” The man turned to me, offering his hand. “Sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday. Court date, important legal stuff, you know?”
This asshole had the nerve to man-lawyer-splain me? “Your sister was here for the important surgical stuff,” I said in response. I tried to keep snark out of my bedside manner, but this jerk didn’t seem to mind my sardonic attitude.
In fact, he laughed and said, “That’s a good one. I assume my sister didn’t perform the surgical stuff since it was a success?”
“Well, yes, I took care of the surgery, and your sister was very kind with your mother,” was my response. “I was about to ask if she would be bringing your mom to her follow-up appointment.”
He didn’t say anything back, but turned and looked at his mom and said, “You were right, she’s something. Smart and smoking…”
Swallowing, I set aside being offended, fearing where this was heading.
Thad swung his gaze back to me. “Forgive me, but we should have drinks one night. My mom, who has gone mute, suggestedI come by and meet you. I see why! ‘Gorgeous and smart and witty,’ I think were her exact words. And she was not wrong.”
I seemed to also have gone mute, unable to make anything float up my vocal cords.
Mrs. Smith finally piped up, adding to the mix. “And single.”
I took a moment, closed my eyes, and when I reopened them, I only looked at Mrs. Smith. “I appreciate all the compliments. It’s so nice how highly you think of me. Well enough for your son. Truly, thank you for thinking of me, but I don’t get involved with patients’ families. I’m glad to see you doing well and wish you luck at rehab. See you for your appointment.”
I left without further preamble. I should’ve told Thad it was nice to meet him or something professional, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I hated being talked down to—and being fixed up, which was becoming an epidemic lately—and treated like I wasn’t an individual. I’d escaped decades of that type of treatment from my parents, and I was never allowing it from anyone else.
Although another woman would consider saying she wasn’t single, offering up that she was dating someone, I didn’t know if one post-operative New Year’s celebration and two weekend visits counted as that.Did it?
Looking at my watch, I noted it was after six in the morning on the West Coast, and soon I would receive my good morning text from Daniel, my not-boyfriend, who happened to be visiting this coming weekend. Something about site selection for a golf scene back east andmy good friend, Peter, as he put it. I’d taken one golf lesson from the guy, and Daniel held a personal vendetta against him.
“Dreaming of this weekend?” Genie strolled by in the hallway.
“Regina.” I grumbled her name. Giving her a glare, I went on. “Sadly no, I’m just coming down from narrowly being forcedinto another fix-up, with a guy named Thad.” The last part came out on a whisper.
