Chapter 8
CREATED BY JUTOH - PLEASE REGISTER TO REMOVE THIS LINE
Heath was sweating bullets when he led his guys back to his studio in the collective.
They’d walked for the last five minutes but he was still hot as hell after a two-mile run.
Before they left, he’d turned off the air conditioning and opened the windows of his meeting room or it would smell like a men’s locker room.
Once everybody was seated, he said, “You all did well today. Before you leave, tell me what we learned about men’s health today?”
The most talkative of the group spoke up. “That exercise has many facets. One, the run. But the stretches and weights we did beforehand made it easier.”
Someone else added, “If a run gets too hard, you can walk for a while.”
Two other suggestions were made.
“Great job. That’s it for this session. Take a bottle of water out of the cooler as you leave. I’ll see you all in two days.”
They filed out with warm goodbyes. This was one of the reasons he joined the collective—to help men with their health and not constantly see patients with life-threatening problems.
Heath took a bottle for himself and went to his office which had a spacious bathroom with a big shower. He sat down behind his desk for a minute to drink the water himself when someone knocked on the outer door. Sighing, he got up and walked out to unlock it.
A woman stood on the other side. Her hair was the color of dark chocolate with wild curls falling everywhere. She had cat eyes which tilted up at the ends. And dressed like a 1970s hippie. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Dr. Heath Elsworth?”
“Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Millie Michaels.”
“You sure you have the right studio? I run men’s health classes. My colleague Daisy Taylor runs a similar group for women.”
“I’m in the right place.”
“Come on in, then. We’ll sit.”
She nodded. He showed her back to his office. Under the lights he could see that her skin was flawless and she wore no makeup. To distract himself from that, he plucked at his T-shirt. “I apologize for my condition. I just got back from a run with my guys.”
“Which is what I want to talk to you about.”
Her tone was interesting. Concerned but confident.
“Go ahead, then.”
“I’d like more information than what’s on your website about your group to see if it’s a fit for my brother.”
“All right. I’ll give you a quick overview.
I help men improve their prostate health, mental health, sexual wellness, and give them information on healthy aging.
I coach them on improving their overall well-being including physical, mental, and emotional health.
I encourage men to identify and break unhealthy patterns like excessive drinking, overworking, or poor stress management.
Finally, I emphasize healthier eating habits, increasing physical activity and improving sleep. ”
“Wow. It sounds amazing and advanced.”
“I have a beginner’s group, too.”
Her dark brows shot up. “That might work.”
“Maybe if you tell me about your brother I can assess if we’re a fit. Or you can bring him in so I can talk to him directly.”
“That’s not as easy as it might seem.” She blew out a heavy breath.
“And the story’s hard to tell. But here goes.
My father raped me when I was sixteen and my brother Kenny attacked him.
” She bit her bottom lip here, admitting such a private detail.
“When they fell to the floor, good old dad hit his head and died. Kenny had gotten into trouble as a teenager, so he had a record and they sent him to prison for manslaughter. We had a public defender, but he was green and didn’t care much about us. I heard him call Ken a lowlife.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Michaels. How awful for you both.”
“Thanks. My mother was out of the picture, so I supported myself by waitressing and cleaning houses. When I turned 21 I got a job as a bartender.”
She didn’t look like a bartender with that wild hair.
“I tame it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know what you’re thinking. I tame my hair when I work.”
She’d read his thoughts, which was disconcerting.
She leaned back against the seat straining the tie-dyed shirt against her breasts. “From what I read about your group and the testimonials on your website, I think you could help Kenny with his self-confidence and to feel…more like a man.”
Prison could drain that from a guy.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need a therapist?”
“He’s too beaten down to talk directly about himself. He likes to be as anonymous as he can. I can pay you, Dr. Elsworth, if that’s what concerns you.”
“It does not. Does he drive?”
“No. I’ll bring him here twice a week.”
He studied her for a minute. “Then I’m game for trying to work with him. I have a new group coming in next week.”
“Well, good.” She stood and held out her hand. She had long slim fingers. Unpainted fingernails. He shook with her and she put her other hand over their clasped ones. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He stared after her as she left. Now why on earth did he find that woman interesting?
* * *
Scarlet and Joe sat in his living room waiting for his soon-to-be ex-wife and her boyfriend, Gayle Marchand, to arrive. “Thanks for doing this with me,” Joe said.
She could tell he was nervous so she grasped onto his hand. “Of course I’m here. I’m planning to be a big part of Seth’s life. I love him, too, you know.”
“I know, sweetheart. I just hate all this.”
“Hopefully, the situation will be resolved today. She signed the divorce papers agreeing to visitation and not demanding joint custody.”
The doorbell rang.
Joe went to the foyer and opened the door. Scarlet heard them talking. “Hello, again.”
“Joe, this is Gayle Marchand.”
“It’s kind of you to have us here, Joe.”
“We need to talk. Come on in.”
Scarlet stood when they entered the room.
“This is my fiancée, Scarlet Smith.”
“Hello, Evangelina.” The woman wore a pretty yellow linen dress, heels and a lot less makeup than the last time. Scarlet held out her hand to Gayle. “Mr. Marchand.”
“Gayle please.”
Gayle Marchand was significantly older than Evangelina and had aged well. He was handsome and sophisticated with his graying hair and sharp brown eyes. He wore designer clothes, deck shoes without socks and an expensive watch.
They sat across from each other.
Joe began. “You’re aware that Evangelina agreed to alter the divorce papers to my liking.”
“Yes. For visitation rights and a few other things that we can live with. I encouraged her to do so.”
“So, you’re buying a place on Canandaigua Lake?”
“I’ve already put in an offer. That should take care of your objection to our living situation.”
Scarlet sat forward. “Tell us about yourself, Gayle.”
“I’m a businessman. I have several interests in Europe and here in the United States. I’m totally in control of my time so I can spend it at the lake whenever I want.”
“What businesses are you in?” Scarlet asked.
“Mostly computers but I’ve diversified to other interests.” He named a few.
“And you’re not worried about being at the lake enough to satisfy Evangelina’s time with Seth?” Joe asked.
“Not worried at all. I was hoping to get to meet Seth today, too.”
“He’ll be home in…” Joe checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
Evangelina’s face lit from within. Scarlet had the unwanted feeling of being sorry for her. She longed to see her son again.
“I have a few questions for you, too.” Gayle’s gaze held on Joe. “I understand you own this place.”
“Yes. But when Scarlet and I marry, we’ll live in hers which is across the road.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a long story but I’ll give you the basics. And if you try to use this against us, we’re prepared for a fight.”
His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Scarlet picked up the ball. “I’m part of a collective of alternative medicine. I’m a hypnotherapist.”
“Evangelina told me that. It’s an interesting profession.”
“It is. But we’ve had some issues there.”
Evangelina came to the edge of her seat. “What are they?”
As succinctly as she could, she told them about the collective’s problems.
Gayle frowned. “Is Seth safe with you?”
“We have two guards at my place for the barn and the house. And the police patrol out here at night.”
“Hmm.”
Her eyes narrowed on Gayle. “What does that mean?”
“We could use this against you, Joe.”
Joe lifted his chin, ready to take on this powerful man. “Do you plan to?”
“No. But we’ll worry.”
“We worry, too.”
“I guess we’ll have to trust you.” He turned to Scarlet. “I understand you have a horse. And Seth has a pony.”
“Yes, to both,” Scarlet answered. “My horse is his pony’s sire.”
“I’m glad for Seth. We’ll have to trust that you can protect him when he rides.”
“We absolutely can. Others at the collective have kids.”
Gayle reached into his pocket. “I’ve done some calculating.” He read from his phone. “We’d like to see Seth every other weekend and part of his vacations.”
“Every other weekend is a lot. Let’s see what he says.”
“I understood he was happy to see his mother.”
“He was.”
The front door opened and closed. They heard from the foyer, “I’m home, Dad.” Seth rushed into the house, carrying his backpack ornamented with horses. He stopped at the couches. “You’re back,” he said to Evangelina.
“I am sweetie. How are you?”
He looked to his father.
“Go ahead son, talk to your mother.”
“Are you here to see me?”
“Yes. This is my friend Gayle Marchand. He and I are getting married.”
“Okay.”
Gayle said, “Hello, son.”
“Do you have kids?” Seth asked Gayle.
“Yes. Two. And two grandchildren. They’re about your age and I plan to have them with us sometimes.”
“You must be old.”
Gayle laughed.
Seth went to Scarlet and hugged her. “Hi, Scarlet.”
She caught the expression on Evangelina’s face. Envy.
Still standing near her and Joe, he turned to his mother. “Hi.”
“Hi, honey. Can I have a hug?”
His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t want one last time.” He still remembered how she’d recoiled from him.
“I’m so sorry about that. I was scared and nervous.”