Chapter 6
The shocked look on Derek Darling’s face almost made Victoria laugh. Instead, she decided to set some boundaries. “I don’t mean every day. My shop keeps me busy, but I could come in the morning sometimes. It would give me a better feel for the place. You know, for my article.”
“Do you have any nursing experience?” Dr. Darling looked hopeful and she hated to shoot him down.
“No. None, sorry.” This was not the time to mention that the sight of blood made her faint. She gestured to the long serving table. “But I could scoop eggs with the best of them.”
“We could use some help, Dr. D,” Phyllis threw in.
Eyes locked, Dr. Darling and Victoria stood there. He was clearly sizing her up. “If you're going to serve the food, then I think you should eat some of it first.”
The place had gotten quiet, except for the strains of “Silent Night” coming over a radio in the corner. Darts had been forgotten. They were all waiting.
Victoria’s stomach flipped over. “But I’ve already had my breakfast.”
He checked his wrist. “Almost lunchtime. Let’s call it brunch.” His wicked grin made her suspicious. Was this some kind of test?
“Why, of course.” Slipping her Gucci bag over one shoulder, she picked up a plate. Diet aside, she was choking this down. The beans could be scooted under a piece of toast. He’d never know.
When he grabbed a plate himself, she almost lost her nerve. “Mind if I join you?”
Heck, yes. “This is the first chance I've had to eat this morning.”
“Good information for my article.” You would almost think she meant to write it.
The noise level had risen again. People chattered with each other at the long tables.
Somewhere a baby wailed. In the corner a young girl read a story to small children gathered around her on the floor.
This place was way more than a clinic. It was a gathering place.
But back to breakfast. She took a tablespoon of eggs.
“Looks like you’ve got some kind of program going on here. ”
“Didn’t take me long to realize that these folks needed more than healthcare.”
“Sure. Right.” What kind of soap did he use? Whatever it was, she wanted three bars of the spicy stuff and a long soak in a tub.
“Potatoes?” Phyllis asked her. Taking in the woman’s netted hair, Victoria realized that she’d probably have to wear one too. Would the humiliation ever end?
“Just a smidge.” Would she walk away from a chance to work shoulder to shoulder with Dr. Hot Stuff because of a hairnet? No way.
When he nudged her shoulder, the rest of her body turned to mush. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. More, please, for both of us.” He gestured to their plates.
Giving Victoria an apologetic look, Phyllis scooped out fattening carbohydrates. Hash browns crowded her eggs, along with a healthy portion of grits and the dreaded green beans. Heaping food onto his plate, the good doctor kept blabbering away about the value of eating three meals a day.
“Guess you're not on a diet,” she said.
“Not me. I can’t keep the carbs on. Burn them right off.”
Yeah right. Was he yanking her chain?
Plate in hand, Victoria was headed for an empty table when Dr. Darling stopped to talk to Big Mac. “Do you mind company?”
The older man was wiping his plate clean with a piece of toast. “No, Doc. I certainly do not.” He moved over and Dr. Darling nodded to Victoria.
She sat down beside Big Mac, and Dr. Darling took the seat across from her.
Victoria sure didn’t mind looking over into those eyes. But how would she eat all this food?
Dr. D. took a lumberjack forkful of potatoes and chomped down.
Taking her fork, she speared dainty portions of egg and potatoes, swirling them through the grits. The tiny portion left her wanting more. Phyllis seemed to be waiting and Victoria gave her a nod. “Delicious.” She would be serious competition for Maribelle.
“Dr. D. sure does like to eat.” Big Mac chuckled.
Do tell. Daddy had always taught her to ask questions to get things flowing. “Have you been coming here very long, Big Mac?”
“Yes, ma’am. Since it opened. Doc checks my blood sugar and my feet. Feels goods to have a doctor taking care of me and my diabetes.”
“Big Mac used to work in the mines.” Dr. Darling was wolfing down green beans, although they weren’t that fresh green she was used to.
“What kind of work did you do?” She started on her potatoes, one small chunk at a time.
The man laughed as if she’d just said the funniest thing ever. “I dug coal, Ms. Victoria. ‘Til my lungs gave out. That’s what we all did. Now the mine’s closed. Guess it was a good thing in a way. Now I sure breathe better, but I’d rather be working.”
Victoria was at a loss. What did a man his age do when he ended up without work? Big Mac must not have family to help him find work. The realization humbled her. She felt Dr. D.’s eyes on her, but she wanted to keep this conversation rolling. “Hey, what’s your dog’s name?”
“Friskie. I saw it on a bag.” Reaching down, he tossed Friskie a left over crust. “Poor dog. I found him in the street. Guess he’d been in a fight. But who needs two ears anyway?”
Friskie gobbled the toast and then sat up, his one ear twitching forward.
When she glanced over at Dr. Darling, he was making serious inroads on his breakfast.
Her beans sat in a mound, mocking her. Slipping a couple from her plate, she waved them under the table, grateful when the moist tongue licked her fingers and snatched the beans.
Big Mac’s eyes shifted to her but he didn’t say a thing.
Somewhere she’d read that beans were good for your hair.
Friskie was going to have a beautiful coat.
While she worked on her eggs, her beans disappeared under the table.
Glancing up at the clock, she saw that it was almost eleven. Maisy would be wondering about her.
Dr. Darling got up. “Back to work. Looks like my patients are waiting.” Two women were sitting in the chairs placed outside his door.
“Bye, Big Mac. I have to get going too.” Draping her paper napkin over what was left of her meal, she followed Dr. D. over to the trash.
“See you again, Miss Victoria,” the older man called after her.
She turned. “You can count on it.”
Stacking his dishes at a pass-through window, Dr. Darling turned and sized her up with his eyes. He didn’t expect to see her here again and that made her madder than all get out.
“What time does this place open?”
His brow lifted with surprise. “Six thirty.”
Gulp. “Perfect. My shop doesn't open until ten, so I’ll have time to work a couple hours here.” No way was she letting this pompous physician get the best of her.
Disbelief lifted his brows. “If that’s what you’d like.”
That’s not what she would like. She’d like him to invite her to dinner at a romantic spot on one of the lakes that reflected colorful Christmas lights at this time of year.
But if this is what it took, she was not backing down. “Bye, Dr. Darling.” She turned to leave.
“Bye, Big Mac!” she called out. “See you soon.” The last part was for the good doctor.
With a wide smile, Big Mac waved.
Working hard to keep from laughing out loud, she walked to the door. When she cast a look over her shoulder, Dr. Darling was standing in the doorway to his office, arms folded as if she were a trouble maker and he was hall monitor. She’d show him.
“Give me a minute, would you?” he said to Betty Lou and Frances, who sat patiently waiting for him. “I need some coffee.”
The women nodded and he hustled into the kitchen with his mug. Back in the kitchen, he filled it to the top and hot coffee nearly overflowed. He was that distracted. Dumping in a couple containers of creamer, he headed back to his office, trying to straighten out his mind.
Heads nodded as he passed and he greeted his patients by name. But his thoughts were still with a blonde acting like she didn’t have a silver spoon in her mouth.
Victoria Pomeroy. What was she up to? When he sat down, the coffee slopped over the edge.
He blotted it up with tissues. Glancing at the chair where she’d sat taking notes, he felt confused.
The woman had looks, no doubt about that.
And she had fire. Man, she took on those potatoes as if she really wanted to gain a pound or two.
But why? He’d done everything to discourage her, practically force feeding her.
But she was writing an article. Derek told himself this was all about the publicity, which they sorely needed. Usually, the holiday season got people writing checks, or so he would think. The article might encourage readers to include the clinic in their gift-giving.
Could he stand having her around? Pretty soon she’d have more than Big Macs’s dog eating out of her hand. He fought a grin that turned into a chuckle.
She was everything he’d always avoided. But she seemed to have a heart, which was more than he could say about her father.
Victor Pomeroy had turned him down flat when he’d called on him, asking for funding for this clinic.
Said it wasn’t in his “portfolio.” Well, many roads led to the kingdom, and that applied to Pomeroy’s check book too.
Betty Lou peeked around the door and he waved her in. “I'm feeling poorly, Dr. D.,” the older woman said as she hobbled in. “My stomach’s hurting me again.”
“You been eating too many green apples?” Her bleeding ulcer was probably the culprit.
She chuckled. “No, Doc. But if I had a bushel of apples, I’d bake you a pie.”
“And I’d eat every bit and gain more weight.” He helped her onto the exam table. Maybe Victoria Pomeroy wouldn’t come back. He was surprised by a wave of what sure felt like regret.