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“I didn’t get it from anywhere, per se. I asked everyone here to come up with an idea they thought would work, they’d judge it amongst themselves, and the winner would get a paid day off. Four hours was all it took before they had the design and decided it was the one. I happen to think it was genius, and Marie won first prize. She thanked you but turned it down as she just saw it as a chance to let her artistic juices flow. She is becoming a human dynamo, I tell you.” Sticking her chest out so I can see the logo better, I squint at her.

Molly has certainly made this place her own. I feel a twinge of jealousy, but I put her in charge, and she is only doing everything I wanted, and more.

“Are you okay with it, Jamie? I didn’t stop to think that you might have an issue with it. It just makes your business more visible and to the next level.”

“Yeah, I’m good with it. It was a shock, but I’m on board. We need a sign for the building, though.”

“Oh, thank God. Tim knows someone, and he’s ordered one. Also, one for the parking lot and another to replace the old sign near the main road.” Molly smiles guiltily and shrugs her shoulders.

Placing my forearm across my forehead, I lean my head back and, in my most forlorn voice, I say, “Clearly I’m surplus to requirements in my own business. I’ve become a silent partner. Boo-hoo, boo-hoo.”

“What a drama queen. That is such a load of boll…baloney! Of course you are needed. My new schedule doesn’t work without you.” Molly smirks at me and I jump up and chase her around the desk. It only takes one circuit for me to be gasping for breath and throwing myself back into my chair.

“Are you okay? Shall I call Tom? Do you need anything? You should not be back at work so soon, that’s obvious.” Molly is squatting in front of me, her eyes full of concern.

Pushing her shoulders, she falls back onto her ass. “You’re such a schmuck, falling for that old trick. Now, what have you got in mind for me today?”

“I didn’t want you under my feet all day,” she grins, “so I asked reception to book you a couple of easy home visits. They didn’t stop to think though, and one is a check-up on Mr. Phillips. If you’d rather not go out there, I understand. I can get someone else to do it.” Molly watches me closely for a reaction, and I try not to give her one.

“No. That’s fine. I doubt there’ll be another van lurking in wait.”

Walking into my office, it feels a little alien. I haven’t been away from here that long, but it does have a strange feeling being in here. I’m sure it will all come right soon enough. Grabbing my bag, I walk out to reception and say hi to everyone waiting. There are a few ‘good to see you back’ comments and then I’m out in the fresh air.

The borders look amazing now, and they are flourishing. There are pretty blooms everywhere, and it looks so much nicer than it did just a couple of months ago. It must have looked austere and maybe a bit sterile back then.

My first patient has a stomach problem and can’t leave the house. More accurately, she can’t leave the toilet. Goldie owns one of our best diners, and she quite rightly wouldn’t go to work when she’s like this, even if she could. I give her some loperamide and she shows me she knows what it is when she says, “Ah. Imodium.”

The drive to Mr. Phillips' is thankfully uneventful though I thought I saw a motorcycle following me at one point. I haven’t given Fury a lot of thought recently, but the bike does give me a tug on the old heartstrings. I thought we had something that was going in the right direction. How could he tell me he wasn’t looking for a relationship and then do all the things together that we were? It made no sense whatsoever.

I don’t mean the sex stuff, though I have missed that, too. Sitting on the couch, all snuggled up and watching movies. We went out for meals, bowling, and we did all the stuff that you do together in a relationship.

If he’d picked someone up at a bar or somewhere, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but Floss, for heaven’s sake. She’s been around the block, up the mountain, and had every traveler, troll, and mountain goat in her caves. Eww. Just the thought of having anything inside me that’s been there is utterly disgusting. He’ll need a full medical before he comes near me again, that’s for sure. Not that that is an option of course. I’m not going backwards. I cast a glance in my rearview mirror, but there’s no sign of a bike there.

As I park in the Phillips’ driveway, I notice how beautiful his lawn is looking. There are some new borders too. Slipping around the back of the house to check on the rear garden, I’m more than a little shocked when I see what looks like the beginnings of a substantial veggie plot.

As I’m about to go back and knock on the front door, Mrs. Phillips appears at the back door. “Come in, Dr. Grant. Come in.”

Walking into their kitchen, I see Mr. Phillips at the kitchen table with a sandwich and a hot drink. I have to say the sandwich looks like it’s homemade bread and there is a decent slab of ham in there too.

“I’m just making us a quick bite for lunch. Have you had anything, doctor?” Mrs. Phillips asks, and I can’t bring myself to refuse such an offer.

“I’d kill for one of whatever your husband is having, Mrs. Phillips. It looks amazing.” Mr. Phillips grins as he takes another bite, and I think he’s telling me it’s delicious, but his mouth is so full, I can’t make out his words.

When she puts a plate in front of me, I can immediately smell mustard. Picking up one of the sandwich triangles, I take a bite and oh my goodness, I just let out a moan as the flavors burst in my mouth.

After making herself a much smaller version of the sandwich, she joins us at the table and we eat in silence. A cup of coffee has magically appeared beside my plate, and I have to admit, I never saw where it came from. After having finished the sandwich and the coffee, I thank them both for their hospitality and then turn a stern gaze on Mr. Phillips.

“I told you so. I said you’d be in deep shit when the doctor saw the lawns and your vegetable plot. I’ll let you try to talk your way out of this one,” Mrs. Phillips snaps at her husband.

I launch into a stern lecture on his health, angina, all the risks, his age, everything I can bring to mind. He sits there taking his ‘talking-to’ in what I assume is the same way he takes a ‘talking-to’ from the good Mrs. Phillips. When I stop to draw breath, he grins.

“I’m fine. I have a gardener, Dr. Grant.”

“Well, whatever, you can’t be exerting yourself and doing all this work. I applaud a man of your age wanting to stay active and keep fit, but you’re no spring chicken anymore, Mr. Phillips. Start taking better care of yourself.”

“I’m fine. I have a gardener, Dr. Grant.”

“If I hear ‘I’m fine’ from one more of my male patients I swear I’ll perform a lobotomy on the next one and see how fine he is after that!”