Hannah's List (14 page)

I
’d had an enjoyable weekend with Ritchie and Stephanie. Max had turned nine and we’d celebrated his birthday long after his rambunctious friends had departed. Max requested the leftover cake and ice cream for dinner, so that was what we ate.

Perhaps because the weekend had been such a highlight, my week started off well. Wednesday morning I arrived at my office after meeting my brother-in-law at the gym and was greeted with a surprise.

Winter Adams was there waiting for me.

Linda told me she’d brought Winter to my office. “Did I do the right thing?” she asked uncertainly.

“It’s fine,” I assured her.

Winter stood when I entered the room. She gave me a warm smile and I saw a large plate of fresh croissants on the corner of my desk.

“I know it’s rude to stop by unannounced,” Winter said, “but I hope you don’t mind.”

“On the contrary, I’m delighted.” And I was—but I hadn’t expected anything like this.

Winter moved toward me and I met her halfway. I didn’t plan what happened next. As she drew near I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. To anyone else it might seem a little thing, but to me, at this stage of grieving, it was major. I was actually comfortable kissing, albeit rather formally, another woman. I wasn’t sure how to explain it, other than that it seemed appropriate.

“I hadn’t heard from you,” Winter said, “and thought I’d drop by. I hope you and your staff enjoy the croissants.”

I heard the hesitancy in her voice and realized she was uneasy about appearing forward. “I appreciate it,” I said. “So will everyone else.”

“My pleasure, really.” She walked over to my desk and I saw she’d also brought a paper bag. She took out a stack of paper plates, napkins and several small jars of jelly and foil-wrapped pats of butter.

“Thank you. This is very generous, Winter.”

She bobbed her head. “You’re welcome. I know you’re busy, and I should be getting back to the café. My baker, Alix, is pregnant. I mentioned that before, didn’t I? The entire staff watches over her. So I’ve been coming in extra early and…Well, anyway, I wanted you to know I’ve been thinking about you.” She didn’t look up as she spoke and I noticed that her hands trembled slightly. They made small jerky movements as she arranged everything on the
desk; then she didn’t seem to know what to do with them anymore and dropped them by her sides.

“Thanks again,” I said awkwardly.

“Your nurse said you have a busy schedule this morning so I won’t keep you.” She picked up her purse, yanking the strap over her shoulder as she edged her way to the door. “Enjoy.”

I walked with her. “Can I call you later?” I asked.

She looked up at me as a slow smile slid into place. “I’d like that.” She moved past me and gave my elbow a gentle squeeze as she left.

For a minute, maybe longer, I stood rooted to the spot, analyzing what had just happened. I hadn’t talked to Winter in more than two weeks. I was doubtful there was any chance of a romantic relationship between us.

Winter and Hannah had been more than cousins, they’d been good friends. I was afraid any relationship we might have would be stalled by our mutual love and admiration for Hannah. Perhaps I was wrong; however, I hadn’t felt the spark of attraction that might have eventually flamed into romance, if I may be forgiven that cliché.

I took the plate of croissants into the small room reserved for staff breaks. Linda found me there.

“Don’t you want one?” she asked.

“I do, but I’ll have it later.” I wasn’t much of a breakfast eater and had set a croissant aside in my office. “That was Hannah’s cousin.”

“So she said.”

I set the plate down on the countertop next to the microwave. “It was very kind of her, don’t you think?”

Linda avoided eye contact.

“What?”

When I caught her gaze, she smiled knowingly. “Winter was being more than kind, you realize. She’s interested in you.”

“In
me?”
I asked, playing dumb. I planted my hand on my chest as if I considered the idea preposterous.

Linda rolled her eyes. “She couldn’t have been more blatant if she’d tried—and she’s trying.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

“Are you going to ask her out?”

I hadn’t gotten that far. “I don’t know. What do you think?” I wanted a woman’s take on the situation, a woman’s perspective. Linda had worked for me from the time I’d joined the practice and knew me well. She’d given me unstinting support during Hannah’s illness; as Ritchie said, she’d been a rock. She was closer to my mother’s age, and while I spoke to my parents in Arizona every other week, dating again wasn’t a topic I’d discuss with either of them.

“What do I think?” Linda murmured. “I’m not sure. Are you attracted to Winter?”

“I suppose I could be,” I said, although I really wasn’t convinced of it.

Linda’s brows gathered in a frown. “That isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“I don’t really know her well enough to have formed much of an attraction,” I hedged.

“Okay,” Linda said, “how do you feel about
getting
to know her?”

That question was easier to answer. “I wouldn’t mind.” And it was true. At the very least, we could resume a friendship of sorts, this time without Hannah as our go-between.

“Then do it,” my nurse said. “The ball is definitely in your court. The next move is up to you.”

I had the distinct feeling that if I didn’t follow through after Winter had taken the initiative, I probably wouldn’t hear from her again, family connection or not.

I enjoyed Leanne Lancaster’s company and had been giving serious thought to calling her. The reason for my hesitation was simple—I was afraid. I wasn’t ready for this and neither was she. Leanne felt as emotionally raw from her divorce as I was a year after losing Hannah.

The strongest link between us was pain, and that wasn’t the most solid basis for any sort of lasting bond. However, I sensed that we might be able to help each other heal. There’s comfort in shared misery. Together we might even find a way to move beyond the pain to a new form of happiness—or contentment at any rate.

Hannah had chosen three women and now I’d met all of them. They were as different from one another as any three women could be. As far as I could tell, Hannah had included Macy Roth for comic relief. Hardly ever had anyone, male or female, irritated me more. Hannah had suggested that Macy would make me laugh; however, she’d been wrong. If anything, Macy left me with the urge to pull out my hair by the roots.

For all my musing I hadn’t come to a firm decision about Winter or Leanne. I’d hire Macy to paint the mural, but not out of any genuine desire to know her. I’d spent maybe ten minutes in her company and had no doubt whatsoever about how I felt. She was off the list. The mural was a good idea, though, and if the photographs were any indication, her work was acceptable. I’d give her the job. I’d completed my duty as far as Hannah was concerned. I’d met Macy and made my decision.

That left Winter and Leanne. It was only fair I get to know them both, then make my choice. Or not.

I found a semblance of peace in that nondecision. A calmness of spirit. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experience real peace again, but this felt close. I was satisfied with what I’d determined to do.

The rest of the day passed smoothly and I’d just seen my last patient for the day, a six-year-old boy who’d managed to get a tiny toy car stuck up his nose. I showed him a couple of magic tricks I saved for occasions such as this, which helped him relax, and I was able to retrieve it from his sinus cavity.

Young Peter’s awed reaction to my “magic” delighted me, and I was grinning as I walked out of the exam room.

Linda met me at the door. “This is your day for female visitors,” she said, looking pleased with herself—as if she alone was responsible for bringing these women into my life.

I assumed it was Leanne Lancaster.

“She’s brought a sketch for you.”

Macy Roth.

I could’ve finished the week without another confrontation with that screwball and been happy.

“Is she waiting in my office?”

“She is.”

I wanted to tell Linda to wipe that smirk off her face. Macy Roth was not a love interest, past, present or future.

When I entered my office I caught her leafing through a medical book. That annoyed me. It took a lot of nerve to remove a volume from my private library without asking permission first.

She glanced up and didn’t reveal the slightest embarrassment.

I walked over, pulled the book out of her hands and pointedly replaced it on the shelf. “You brought a sketch?” I asked.

“Yes, I put it on your desk.”

I was curious about the type of scene she might have envisioned for my wall. If she was as imaginative as I supposed, the idea would be clever and amusing.

I had a small table in the room and rolled out the sketch, anchoring it with a paperweight and a book on opposite corners. One look at the ocean scene, and I frowned. She’d drawn a wave and in the crest of it were turtles and tropical fish of all sizes and colors. In the distance beyond the wave, a sailfish leaped into the air. There was a whale in the background.

“This isn’t what I want,” I said, trying to understand what I found so objectionable. I suspected it was more my
attitude toward Macy than the sketch itself. Still, I felt the kids who came into my practice might think it wasn’t interesting or whimsical or exotic enough. The mural was meant to entertain and distract them, not provide a zoology lesson.

“Why not?” she challenged.

“I just don’t. It’s not…kid-themed,” I muttered.

“You told me to draw whatever I felt would work, and I did.”

“True, and I apologize, but the ocean scene doesn’t suit me,” I said flatly. “I’d like another alternative.” She was right; I’d basically given her free rein, but at the same time I retained approval. “Come up with a different approach.”

“Fine,” she said shortly. She reached for the sketch and rolled it up. “I don’t have a problem with developing something else. However, before I spend several hours putting together a new scene, it would help if I had some idea of what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t know. Zoo animals, I suppose.”

“Zoo animals,” she repeated, obviously disappointed in my answer. “I can do that…I guess.”

“In a jungle scene,” I added. “Gorillas, giraffes and lions should do nicely.”

“You got it.”

“When can I expect to see a new sketch?”

Macy paused, eyes on the ceiling as though mentally reviewing her commitments. “Does Monday afternoon work for you?”

I walked behind my desk to my appointment calendar and nodded, then wrote it in. “That should be fine. Make it 5:00 p.m.”

Nodding, Macy stopped on her way to the door. “Are you
positive
you don’t like the ocean scene?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” My reaction had been immediate.

“I could throw in a ship. I’d thought of doing that and I didn’t, and now I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have liked it with the ship, either,” I told her.

“Harvey liked it…well, as much as Harvey likes anything.”

“Is Harvey one of your cats?” I remembered that Macy had several cats. Why that detail stuck in my mind I could only speculate. She talked about them as if they were human, which was odd enough, but soliciting a cat’s views on a piece of art…

“Harvey is my neighbor, and he has exquisite taste.”

This was apparently a dig at me for disliking the ocean scene. I recalled that she’d mentioned this Harvey in our first phone conversation. “No doubt he does, but it isn’t his office where you’ll be painting the mural.”

“That’s too bad,” she muttered.

“One day another client might ask you for an ocean scene and you’ll have it in your inventory.”

She shrugged, but didn’t respond.

I steered her toward the door, unwilling to continue the conversation. I wasn’t interested in her next-door neighbor’s opinion. The only opinion that mattered here was mine, and I didn’t want the children who came into my office staring at fish.

“I’ll have the jungle scene for your review on Monday,” Macy said as she swept out of my office. “At five.”

Feeling a twinge of guilt I realized my attitude wasn’t entirely fair or open-minded. Macy was simply too…unconventional for me. Too erratic and unpredictable. In any case, I felt I’d done my duty by Hannah. From this point forward I’d concentrate my efforts on Winter and Leanne.

Thinking about Winter, I decided now was a good time to give her a call and thank her for the croissants. I waited until everyone had left the clinic, then closed my office door.

Surprisingly, I felt a sense of anticipation. I tried to think of something Winter and I might do together. I’d taken Leanne to dinner and, while that had been pleasant, I was looking for a different activity with Winter, since she owned a restaurant and eating out might be too much like work for her—too much like checking out the competition.

I called Winter’s cell number; she answered on the second ring.

“It’s Michael. I wanted to thank you again for the croissants,” I began.

“You’re very welcome.”

She seemed pleased to hear from me, and that was encouraging. “The croissants disappeared so fast I was fortunate to get one.” I’d eaten it with my lunch and savored every bite.

“There’s always more where those came from,” she teased.

I felt utterly inept at flirting, but stumbled ahead. “I
was hoping, you know, that the two of us might get together soon.”

“Ah, sure. When?”

“How about Sunday afternoon?” I tossed that out, although I didn’t have a single idea of what we might do.

“What do you suggest?”

“Well…” I thought for a moment. “If the weather’s nice we could ride bikes.” This was something Hannah and I used to enjoy. A surge of pain tightened my chest. I was surprised when the memory didn’t hurt as much or last as long as I’d come to expect.

“I…don’t have a bike,” Winter said with what sounded like regret.

“Not to worry, I have an extra one in the garage. Actually, it belonged to Hannah.” I figured Winter wouldn’t mind borrowing Hannah’s old bicycle.