Chapter 47
Ben sat in the waiting room with Mylie, silently weighing his options. He couldn’t talk to her here, not if he wanted to keep
his tongue intact, but he hated the way she was staring straight ahead, not looking at him.
The nurse behind the counter simply looked at Mylie’s hand, asked for her information, and shouted to someone in the back,
“We’ve got another hook situation!”
Ben knew from his grandfather’s practice that it wasn’t uncommon for people, especially in the summertime when there were
tourists about, to end up with a waiting room full of fishing-related injuries. One summer, he’d even had the displeasure
of seeing a boy with a snapping turtle attached to his bottom lip.
He smiled at the memory, although it had been pretty traumatizing at the time. He’d stayed away from all turtles after that.
A door in the clinic swung open and a woman with a clipboard said, “Mylie Mason?”
Mylie stood up. “You can wait out here,” she said to Ben.
Ben got up and trudged behind her, waiting for a reprimand, but she said nothing. When the nurse gave him a questioning look,
he said, “I’m with her.”
“It’s fine,” Mylie said, rolling her eyes.
They were led back to a hallway where Mylie stood on a scale and had her blood pressure taken. “Too high,” the nurse said, tutting about it.
“Well, I do have a fishing hook in my thumb,” Mylie replied. “And,” she continued, “it’s been a long night.”
Ben winced. He certainly hadn’t made it any easier on her. Part of him wanted to return her anger. It was true that he’d kept
a secret from her, but it was also true that she knew he was going to sell the house, that he was taking a job far away. None
of this was new information. She’d known and still chosen to be with him while he was here. The fault didn’t lie solely with
him, did it?
The nurse left them alone in one of the sterile rooms and closed the door behind her, and Mylie resumed her thousand-yard
stare.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” Ben asked finally.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Mylie said.
“Fine,” Ben replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What do you want me to say, Ben?” Mylie asked. “Congratulations?”
“No,” Ben said. “No, I just want to talk about it.”
Mylie sighed. “What is talking about it going to change? Are you still selling the house?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still leaving next week for the East Coast?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?” Mylie asked. “What is there to say?” She raised both of her hands up, banging her thumb on the side of the table
next to her chair. “Ow! Shit!”
“Is that Mylie Mason I hear?” came a deep, rumbling voice from the opening door. “Well, hello! It is you!”
“Dr. Burton!” Mylie said, grinning. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”
“Well, I usually try to take off for the tournament weekend, but our other doctor is on maternity leave,” Dr. Burton said. “Now, what do we have here?”
Mylie held out her thumb.
“How did this happen?” Dr. Burton asked.
“I was packing up some tackle, and one of the packages was open,” Mylie said. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“You know better than that,” Dr. Burton replied. He checked over her thumb with a gloved hand. “I’m pretty sure I can get
this out, but I’m going to apply a local anesthetic. You may need a stitch or two.”
Mylie grimaced. “Okay, do whatever you have to do, but I have to be able to fish tomorrow.”
“Well, I can’t say it’ll be comfortable,” Dr. Burton replied. Then, as if he was just noticing Ben for the first time, he
turned to him and said, “Are you her ride?”
Ben nodded. “Uh, yes. Yes, sir.”
“Great,” Dr. Burton replied. “Her hand is going to be numb for a couple of hours.”
Mylie didn’t so much as squirm through the entire process of having the hook removed from her thumb, even though Ben thought
he might have to look away a few times. It wasn’t so much that it was bloody as it was painful to look at. Only once did she
reach out for his hand and squeeze. Even then, she didn’t look at him.
“It’ll be sore tomorrow,” Dr. Burton said when he’d finished. “Be careful out there on the boat. Don’t get it wet when you
shower, and please don’t get it in that lake water.”
“I’ll try not to,” Mylie replied.
“Here.” Dr. Burton pushed himself across the room on his rolling stool and opened up one of the drawers of the cabinet. “Take
a few of these rubber gloves. Cover it for a few days, but especially tomorrow.”
Mylie nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”
“How’s your granny?” Dr. Burton asked, a twinkle in his eye.
“Still dating Morris,” Mylie replied, giving the doctor her first genuine smile in hours. “But I’ll let her know you asked
after her.”
“You do that,” Dr. Burton said. “Remind her that I’m a doctor.”
Ben coughed. Dr. Burton had to be nearly twenty years younger than Granny.
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Dr. Burton continued, looking over at Ben. “Those Mason women, I don’t know what it is about them,
but they’ll hook ya.”
“Hilarious,” Mylie said dryly.
Dr. Burton only winked.