Chapter 8 #2
Maisy and Darla left for the day. Victoria locked up. Before she went upstairs she studied the tree. More ornaments appeared every day and each one had a story. She loved that. Her customers usually shared that story while they hung the ornament.
Once upstairs, Victoria noticed her blinking answering machine.
Probably her mother, who refused to text or send emails.
Victoria pressed a button. Yep, this was her mama.
The messages were increasingly shrill. The dresses were in.
They were leaving in a week after their open house.
Victoria hadn't called her back. Would Victoria be coming with them?
“Who will you be with on Christmas Day if you stay here?” she asked in her most recent message.
Good question. One she wasn’t going to worry about right now. Victoria hit the delete button so hard on that one, that she bruised her finger. She didn't know where she'd be this year. But she wouldn’t be in Palm Beach. Now, how would she tell her parents?
Victoria fell into the pattern of going over to the clinic on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
And each time she went, she brought boxes of cookies and loaves of fresh bread.
Seeing Big Mac’s smile lit up her heart.
The day she brought in a bag of dog food, she thought he might kiss her.
In her purse was a bag of dog treats, which Friskie sniffed immediately.
He sat up and begged, looking so darn cute.
Ripping open the bag of treats, she used too much force and they shot everywhere.
Victoria had to race to pick up the treats before Friskie gobbled them all and got sick.
A hearty chuckle made her look up. Dr. D. was lounging in his doorway. “Looks like you’ve got a new friend.” How long had he been watching?
“Glad I’m appreciated by some people.” She looked down and gave Friskie a good scratch behind the ears.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Looked like he’d been seeing patients. One of those things that took your heartbeat hung from his neck.
She drew closer. Grabbing the circular end of it, she pressed it to his chest, while she held one of the ear pieces to her ear.
The thud of his heart seemed to kick up as they stood there.
He smelled like soap and a guy who’d been working. Her knees weakened.
“What are you doing?” His ragged breath ruffled her bangs. But he didn’t sound mad.
Glancing up from lowered lashes, Victoria grinned. “Guess what? You do have a heart.”
The poor guy looked stricken. Maybe she’d carried this too far. Backing away, she almost tripped over her own feet. “No offense meant.”
“No offense taken. I think.” His lips tweaked up on one side.
This sure felt like flirting. What was she doing? But hadn’t that been her goal all along?
“Time to get to work.” Grabbing her bag, she made a beeline for the kitchen. After Cindy at her nail salon had taken her to task for chipping two of her nails scrubbing a pan with the steel wool pad, Victoria had bought a pair of purple rubber gloves with a huge sunflower attached to each cuff.
While she was pulling them on, Dr. D. casually walked through the kitchen.
He took his time pouring more coffee. Victoria knew that he could have gotten that coffee at the buffet table.
Mug in hand, he studied her gloves as she stacked the crockery on the sideboard. “So you've got a thing for purple?”
“What? You don't like my outfit?” In one of her many catalogs, she’d found a pair of purple leggings and a lightweight sweater. They kind of matched the rubber gloves.
“Quite a picture.” His lips twitched. “A lot of...purple.”
Victoria wasn’t accustomed to people making fun of her clothes. “Gee, thanks.” Mama probably wouldn’t like this either.
After he disappeared leaving the faint smell of his soap, Phyllis came in for another stack of dishes. “You’ve been promoted. We’re moving Mary Lou back here.”
“What! You don’t like my work?” She was horrified. A sense of failure loomed.
“That’s not it. Mary Lou’s very shy. Dr. D. thinks you’d be better out at the buffet line. Thinks you’d perk people up. I don’t know what that man is talking about.” But her eyes sparkled.
“Yippee.” She stripped off the gloves. All the action happened out front.
When Phyllis handed her a hair net, Victoria swallowed a groan.
She’d have to give serious thought to a new hairdo.
After stuffing her hair into the net, she followed Phyllis out and took up her position behind the long table, metal scoop in hand.
Serving the scrambled eggs, grits and toast, she got to talk to all the folks.
They always said “please” and “thank you.” From where she stood, she’d have a clear view of Dr. D.
’s door. The number of patients he saw every day was amazing.
Phyllis told her that people were coming from as far away as the big cities.
“Why do they drive all that way?”
“Because they can’t find help anywhere else. No insurance. A lot of these folks have fallen in the cracks.”
“Fallen through the cracks.” The words carved a hole in her heart. She couldn’t imagine how that might feel.
Lowering her voice, Phyllis said, “Some have jobs, but not work that pays well or that gives benefits. So they come here when they get sick or need shots for their children.”
If Victoria had respected Dr. Darling before, he’d now graduated to super hero status.
Meanwhile she kept scooping, exchanging jokes with the men and women who passed through.
They needed the food but it seemed to her that they also enjoyed the kidding around offered by the regulars, Big Mac among them.
When one of the men called her “Vicki,” Big Mac stepped up.
“No, no, Dennis. This lady's name is Victoria. Like the Queen.” He almost whispered the last part but Victoria heard it.
Tears filled her eyes. That sweet guy was sticking up for her.
“This here is the lady who brings the cookies.
The good ones that don't come in a package.”
The respect in Dennis’ eyes told her she’d come up in the world.
As the days passed, red trees cut from colored paper appeared on the clinic Christmas tree. She’d watched people write on a blank tree and then hang it up with a green ribbon.
“What’s with those ornaments?” she asked Phyllis.
Phyllis folded her hands over her ample stomach. “Why, this is our giving tree. Everyone writes down their Christmas wish. Me and some of the girls scour the Goodwill and Salvation Army stores from here to Atlanta to fill these wishes. It’s kind of fun.”
“Sounds time consuming and expensive.”
When Phyllis laughed, her entire body jiggled. “Yes, ma’am. It sure is.”
Coming closer, Victoria began to read. “Barbie doll. Spiderman Super Web Slinger. Whatever is that?”
Phyllis shrugged. “Just something kids love and want.”
Victoria kept reading. “Goo Goo Galaxy, Baby Shark Song Puppet, Robo Alive Ferocious Dragon.” She turned to Phyllis. “I've never heard of these toys.”
“Oh, honey. The kids see these on TV. So you don’t have kids?”
“No, although I’d like to someday.” This was the first time she’d actually thought about that. “I don’t have a husband.”
“Hmm. Imagine that. A beautiful girl like you.”
While she stood there, Victoria’s mind whirred like one of the overhead fans. “Can anyone buy these? You know, donate them?”
But Phyllis was studying Dr. D.’s closed door. When she jerked and turned, a light went on in her eyes “Oh, shugga, of course.”
“Do you mind if I take some of them from the tree?”
But Phyllis hesitated. “As long as you come back with a gift for every Christmas Wish, I don’t care who buys it.”
Being very careful, Victoria began removing the ornaments from the tree. “I’m going to put them on the tree in my shop.”
Turning, she ran smack into Dr. D. His chest was firm and his flannel shirt felt soft. Sucking in a breath, she nearly dropped her construction paper ornaments.
“Got time for a coffee break?” he raised his mug.
“S-sure.” She had trouble getting the word out. He was asking her to have coffee. Did this count as a date? Sort of. Maybe.
Grabbing one of the heavy mugs, she filled it, added cream and followed him into his office. This was getting more and more interesting.
While he perched on the edge of his banged-up desk, she took a chair. Sitting straight up like her mama taught her, she wondered what was up.
“So how are you coming along?”
“Are you asking me to leave?” Disappointment gutted her.
“What?” His gray eyes warmed. “No. I’m just asking a question.”
This sure felt like a job interview, not a pseudo date. She took a sip of her coffee feeling that a lot depended on her answer. “I'm enjoying it.”
He chuckled and the robust sound wiggled right down into her tummy or there about. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“How do you do it?” Victoria asked. “How do you work here in the morning and then go to the urgent care center?”
“Oh, I manage.” He ran a hand over his tired eyes.
How could a man be gorgeous all rumpled like this? The first time she’d noticed his red-rimmed eyes, she figured he’d been partying hard the night before. But Phyllis told her that Dr. D didn't drink.
“Don't you get tired? How can you work all those hours?”
Swirling his mug, he seemed to search the depths of his coffee. “I love what I do. Does that sound weird?” He looked up.
“Not at all. I enjoy my shop in Sweetwater Creek. I don’t want to work anywhere if I’m not feeling good about it.”
His brow wrinkled. “That's right. I forgot. You’re a Pomeroy.” The way he said it, her family name sounded like a disease.
Forgetting Mama’s words, she slumped against the chair. “Ouch. That hurts.”
“Sorry, Victoria.” But the words came slowly as if she pulled it out of him. “I only meant that you have a lot of resources at your disposal. You and your family have access to a doctor. A place to sleep at night.”
“I sleep right above my business.” Even she heard her haughty tone.
“So do I.” For a second she thought Dr. D. might give her a high five.
But she wanted to straighten this out. “Look, I can't pretend I know all about… being poor. Without resources, however you put it. But I'm trying to learn.”
“You’re trying to learn to be poor?”
“How it feels.” This sounded so lame. “You sleep over your business? I didn’t know that urgent care center had a second floor.”
“No. “ He pointed a finger at the ceiling. “My place is upstairs,”
“Oh, I guess that’s handy.” But she blushed thinking of the fabulous renovations Jackson Hart had done for her. Daddy had picked up that tab.
“Do you mind answering a question?” Who was she to be drilling him?
“Not at all.” Getting up, he went around his desk and sat down. So he was putting distance between them, was he?
“Who pays for all this?” She swept a hand toward the door. “The medicines, the foods, your time.”
“Donations take care of most of the food and medications, not that we don’t always need more. I donate my time and so do most of the staff.”
She’d always thought doctors made a lot of money. This sure didn’t look like it. “Hmm. So you went all the way through medical school to sit here.”
“That’s exactly how my family feels.” Okay, now he was snapping at her. “I’m a big disappointment.”
“What does your dad do?” Since the questions were flowing she figured she’d throw some in.
“Runs a...family business.” He snorted. “Basically, he moves numbers around. Some of those numbers my grandfather put into a trust fund for me. But I won’t have access to it until I’m thirty-five.
My father’s happy with that. He wouldn’t want to see it squandered on something like this. ” His face had turned a ruddy red.
Her chest squeezed tight when she thought of all the folks who came to this clinic He was their lifeline. “Squandered?”
“My father’s words.” His jaw shifted. Obviously he didn’t get along with his father and that was a shame. “I'm doing worthwhile work. For me, that’s what counts.”
“Wow. I’m sorry. Your daddy should just see what you do here.” What was she trying to say?
“Would your parents like to see you here?”
“Probably not.” Glancing down at her apron, she flicked off some scrambled egg.
“Uh huh.” His look told her that he totally understood. Or maybe she was reading too much into it. “And since we’re asking questions. Why are you here? Is this some kind of experiment?”
“Boy, you can be really charming.” No way would she admit that at first she’d been stalking him. Victoria lifted her chin. “Maybe I want to do something worthwhile too.”
“You do look cute in that hairnet.”
Her hand flew to her head, “Why are you giving me a hard time?” She peeked out the door.
“Because I can’t figure you out.” He waited. “How’s that article coming?”
Darn. She hadn’t written a thing. “I’ll let you know when it runs.” If ever. Shoving the chair back, Victoria shot up so fast, coffee slopped onto her new sweater.
Moving quickly, Dr. D. grabbed a tissue and then stood there holding it.
“I'll take care of that.” Neither of them would be comfortable with him blotting her sweater. “Believe it or not I'm enjoying spending time here. And it has nothing to do with you.” That last part sounded defensive.
Yes, let this cracked linoleum open and swallow me.
“Who said it did?”
She had to get out of here. Too angry to go back to smiling and serving meals, she went out to the kitchen and grabbed her jacket and tote.
Just then, Phyllis came in carrying one of those big metal pans.
“Guess I should get on the road. I'm taking those wishes with me, okay?”
“Sure. Just remember.” Picking up the sponge, Phyllis pointed it at her. “Be sure you bring pretty presents back.”
“You can count on me.” How good it felt to say that.
Not until she got into her car and place them carefully on the seat did she begin to wonder if she could pull that off.