Blue Like Elvis (9 page)

“Cass, I was on a
double shift! Give me a break.”

“Yet I see you
have plenty of time for your hostesses.”

“Oh, c’mon. I told
you Shelby’s an old friend—”

“Stop! Just stop!
It doesn’t matter. It’s over, Tucker. OVER!”

Sandra and I
hurried away, hoping they didn’t see us. As we hustled down the hall, Sandra
started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Are you kidding
me? Didn’t you hear?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tucker Thompson’s
back on the market!” She did a little Latin two-step before going into the
office.

I paused for a
moment. It was true. It sounded like whatever Tucker and Cassie had, it was
probably finished. And yet hearing Sandra’s giddy reaction . . .

What I felt didn’t
come close to giddy.

Chapter 12

The following week
was most unusual. With Mrs. Baker away in Hawaii for Pamela’s wedding, things
were much more relaxed in the office. Apparently the old adage is true: when
the cat’s away, the mice will indeed play. And some of our mice played a little
more than others. I’d noticed a couple of them waltzed in routinely late in the
mornings, and others didn’t seem quite as motivated to attend to their patients
to the normal extent. The extended lunch breaks were often followed by nail
painting, magazine reading, and recipe swapping that kept several of them from
getting back to their floors on time.

Like the hideout
up on Five in Mindy’s “office,” our relaxed schedule in Mrs. B’s absence made
me nervous at first. That said, by the end of the week I’d learned to do
needlepoint and had a whole file of new recipes.

Of course, not
everyone relaxed along with us.

As the hostess
with most seniority, Sarah Beth took over Mrs. Baker’s responsibilities at the
front desk. She made it known that she didn’t approve of our laid-back approach.
If we made too much noise laughing and cutting up, she would clear her
throat—the exact same way Mrs. Baker often did. When the back office started
resembling a pig sty, she went on a tirade picking up our things and filling
the trash can. If we were slow getting up to our floors in the morning, she
would march into the back office and individually hand us our new patient
cards, announcing our counts with the precision of a full-fledged accountant.

Most of the girls
just rolled their eyes. I found her quite fascinating. She was always
immaculately dressed, uniform pressed, blouse starched, nails polished and
perfect, her posture straight, her head held high. I’d learned in earlier
conversations she was quite the housekeeper. She loved to brag about her long
hours ironing at home. Well, good for her.

“Yes, Mrs. Baker,
we’re fine.”

We all piped down
hearing Sarah Beth on the phone with the boss.

“No news, I
suppose,” she continued.

“Oh Lord, help her
keep her mouth shut,” Sandra whispered, crossing her fingers.

“Well, I think we’ll
need to have a meeting when you get back. I’ll leave it at that.”

Busted.

“No, nothing for
you to worry about. Just have a nice time, and we’ll see you Monday. Bye-bye.”

We heard her hang
up the phone and clear her throat again.

“Way to go, Sarah
Beth,” Leila chided. “Was that really necessary?”

She walked into
our back office, her head stretched higher than normal. “I have no idea what
you’re talking about. C’mon, girls. Back to work. Time’s a wasting.”

Time’s a
wasting?
Oh, please. I think every pair of eyes in the back office rolled
simultaneously at that one.

“Careful, Sarah
Beth. You’ll get a nose bleed up there,” Sandra quipped.

“What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Skip it.”

She whipped
around, hands on hips. “Well, somebody has to be in charge. You all are a
disgrace. And don’t think I won’t tell Mrs. Baker when she gets back. You act
like a bunch of school girls. Dr. Grieve would be absolutely ashamed of each
and every one of you. As am I.”

With that, she
zipped back to the front office. We could hear drawers opening and slamming.

“Lovely,” Debra groaned.

“Well, she has a
point,” Mindy said.

“What’s that
supposed to mean?” Rebecca asked, tossing her copy of
Southern Living.

“It means, we’re all
taking advantage of Mrs. Baker’s absence. We’re not kids anymore. We should be
responsible enough to do our work whether or not she’s here.”

I didn’t like the
tone flying around the four walls. I’d heard the girls get snippy from time to
time, but nothing like this. I decided to play the peacemaker. “Hey, we can all
do better. Let’s just try a little harder and try not to get on each others’
nerves.”

“Oh, so the new
girl wants a piece of it,” Sarah Beth added from the front office. “Might be a
good idea to stay out of this, Shelby, unless you’re taking sides.”

“Taking sides? I
don’t want to get into this at all,” I said. “But I can’t just sit here and
listen to you all pick on each other like this.” I grabbed my stuff and left
the office.

Whoa. I hadn’t
seen a cat fight like that since grade school. I headed up to Nine for some
peace and quiet. As I rounded the corner on the Madison wing, I heard myself
paged. I used the phone at the nurses’ station and called the switchboard. The
operator put me through to an outside call.

“Shelby, it’s
Jimmy!”

“Jimmy! Where are
you?”

“I’m in Hawaii. On
a layover. But I should be stateside in a couple of days. I’m hop-scotching. I
only get a flight if they’ve got seats available. Then I’ll have a few days of
debriefing at Ft. Lewis up in Washington state. I’ll call you once that’s
winding down.”

“Sounds good. I
can’t wait to see you!”

I was thrilled to
have a party to think about instead of the mess in the office. I’d have to talk
to Sandra and put the wheels in motion for Jimmy’s party. But I wasn’t about to
call Tucker. I hadn’t heard from him or seen him since that big scene in the
hall. I felt bad for him, but it wasn’t my place to offer a shoulder to cry on.
Or whatever.

I spent the rest
of the day revisiting every one of my patients. And yes, that included Mr.
Wilcox. Thankfully, he was out having x-rays when I stopped by, and Mrs. Wilcox
was nowhere to be seen.

That evening
Sandra and I grumbled about the tension in the hostess office and agreed to try
and stay out of it. She said this kind of stuff happened from time to time in
the cramped quarters of our office, but she’d never seen it this bad. I’d never
worked in an all-female office before. I wondered if there was just too much estrogen
in the air. But what did I know?

One thing I did
know. I dreaded Mrs. Baker’s return on Monday.

Chapter 13

On Thursday, Rachel
called after dinner and tried to talk me into going to the singles bonfire and
cookout on Saturday night. I’d used every excuse I could think of. As I hemmed
and hawed, Sandra worked on me as well. She was always ready to party. I
finally caved, against my better judgment, and agreed to go—for Sandra’s sake.

The week finally
ended, not a day too soon, and Sandra and I spent most of Saturday doing
laundry and cleaning the townhouse. It took her forever to clean out the
finches’ cage, but oh, what a difference. The place actually smelled nice
again.

That evening, we
met the other singles just outside of town at the home of a church member who
lived in a sprawling ranch-style home on 15 acres. Rachel and Rich were already
there, along with some of the other sponsors and probably 40 singles. The
bonfire was already stoked and burning, creating a cozy outdoor atmosphere. The
crisp cool spring air felt wonderful. I was glad I’d come.

From the moment we
stepped out of Sandra’s car, she was smothered by a couple of rather unusual
guys. I’d not seen them at church before. One was a little heavy with a rat’s
nest of dark hair on his head and long sideburns. His friend was a string bean,
at least 6’4” and not an ounce of fat on him. He was more hair-challenged, working
a wicked comb-over for someone his age.

I clung to Rachel’s
side, glad to avoid their attention. “What’s up with those two?” I asked
quietly.

She placed a
basket of hot dog buns on the large picnic table, glanced over her shoulder at
them, then laughed. “Oh, that’s Burt and Bobby. Rich calls them ‘the Killer Bs.’
They drift in and out of our group. My guess is, they church hop, scoping out
other singles groups for dates then come back here when they find slim pickins
elsewhere. We haven’t seen them for months. The thing is, they have no social
skills whatsoever, but think they’re really suave. We get a kick out of
watching them operate . . . but unfortunately, whenever they
drift back in, they chase away a lot of our girls. We’ll have to rescue Sandra
at some point.”

“Oh, trust me. She
can handle them.” I turned to help Rachel. “Hey, how are you? How’s little Cooper
doing?” I patted her tummy beneath her long maternity top. “Wow! He’s kicking!
Do you feel that?”

“Do I ever.”
Rachel placed her hand over mine. “Isn’t that funny? He’s been an active boy
all day. But I just
love
it. I keep thinking he’s in there saying ‘Hi
Mommmy!’”

“You and Rich will
make the best parents. I’m so happy for you, Rachel.” I hugged her hard,
careful not to squish Cooper.

“We’re excited!”
she said, hugging me back. She grabbed a covered tray of hot dogs. “Hey,
Shelby, have you talked to Tucker lately?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I got a
call the other night from—”

“Hey, Rachel, let
me help you with those!” Sandra rushed between us. “You guys have GOT to help
me!” she whispered urgently. “What is up with those guys?”

Sure enough, Burt
and Bobby closed in on us. “Hi, Rachel. Can we help too?”

“Absolutely. Here,
you guys can start cooking some hot dogs for us. Here are the sticks.  Just
line a few up on there and let ‘em roast in the fire.”

“Oh! Cool!”

“Wait, wait,
wait—first go wash your hands. I don’t even want to know where those hands have
been. There’s some water in that jug over there. Pour it over your hands.”

Suddenly they were
busily mastering the task at hand, giving Sandra some breathing room. “Thank
you,” she mouthed to Rachel.

“Who’s hungry?”
Rick yelled, armed with a tray of condiments and several bags of chips tucked
under his arm. “Let’s eat!”

Sandra and I found
a couple of Adirondack chairs at a safe distance from the fire. We’d just
settled in to enjoy our hot dogs when Bobby and Burt launched a secondary
attack.

“Hey, beautiful ladies,”
Burt said, taking a seat in a lawn chair to my right. “May we join you?”

“Burt, it’s our
lucky day,” Bobby said, sitting next to Sandra. “The two prettiest babes at the
party and they’re all ours.”

I’d just taken a
sip of Tab. I tried really hard not to spray it out my nose at his
proclamation. This could be a painfully long evening . . . after
which I would kill Rachel. She’d promised me this group didn’t have any annoying
guys. I guess their recent absence made them slip her mind.

“So what’s this
about your boyfriend?” Bobby asked, scooting his chair closer to Sandra’s.

“Oh, yes,” Sandra
answered, giving me a look. “My Pedro. The love of my life.”

This time the Tab
flew. I wiped my face and tried to wipe my nose.

“What’s wrong with
you?” Burt asked, handing me his napkin.

I ignored him,
feigning concentration on my Tab-sprayed jeans.

Bobby pushed
harder. “If he’s the love of your life, how come he’s not here tonight?”

“Because he’s back
in Puerto Rico,” Sandra said. I noticed her accent was stronger than usual. “He
owns a vineyard. VERY wealthy. Very busy. Busy, busy, busy. Works day and
night.”

“But if he’s there
and you’re here, how come you can’t date?”

“Oh, I could
never
cheat on Pedro! I wouldn’t want to . . . ruffle his feathers,
you know.”

This time a piece
of hot dog wedged in my throat. I coughed and coughed as Burt patted my back to
help. It flew out of my mouth and into the fire.

“You’re weird, you
know that?” he said in total sincerity.

I just nodded,
unable to make eye contact for fear I’d lose what was left of my composure.

Sandra’s eyes were
huge. Yes, this was going to be a very long night.

An hour later as
we finished singing some goofy songs and tried to get the stickiness off our
fingers after indulging in S’mores, a car pulled up. To be honest, I was ready
to call it a night. But Sandra had finally convinced the Killer Bs she wasn’t
interested, and she was having a blast hanging out with everyone else. Just
then, Trevor Knight stepped out of the Jeep Cherokee.

“Am I too late?”

Everyone welcomed
him, Rich rustled up a couple of hot dogs for him, and he quickly joined the
party.

“Shelby, how’s it
going?” He took the seat Burt had vacated.

“Good, Trevor.
Late shift?”

“Yeah, but I needed
some fresh air. I decided to chance it and make the drive. Glad everyone’s
still here.”

“Good. I’m glad
you made it.”

He chomped on his
meal for a minute then washed it down with a Coke. “Have you talked to Tucker
lately?”

I realized then
that Rachel had never finished what she started to tell me about Tucker when I
first arrived. “Oh, uh, no. Haven’t seen him or heard from him. You?”

He looked around,
obviously making sure no one else was listening to our conversation. “Well,
sure. Tuck and I work together a lot. I guess you heard he and Cassie split.”

I finger-combed my
hair back from my face. “Yeah, Sandra and I happened to be passing them in the
hall when it happened.”

“Oh, that must
have been rough.”

“It wasn’t pretty.
How’s he doing?”

“Truthfully? He’s
fine. Really. A bit awkward since she’s been very vocal about it all. But
between you and me?” He paused, leaned toward me, then whispered, “He’s
extremely relieved. Ol’ Tuck got hog-tied into that one from the start.”

“Hog-tied?”

“Hog-tied. The
Judge called up Tuck’s dad, and the next thing you know the kids are dating. I
think he was okay about it at first. Then Cass just started assuming things,
making plans—basically just tugging Tuck along in the process. The visit to the
jewelery store . . .” He shook his head and blew out a long
sigh. “Cass had already picked out a two-carat flawless diamond. Shelby, the
thing had a $125,000 price tag on it.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Tucker just
laughed. He was sure she was kidding. Like it was some kind of joke.”

“She wasn’t?”

“Noooooo,” he
said, shaking his head with conviction. “She’d already made a down-payment to
hold it.” He took another sip of his Coke. “When Tucker said no, that’s when
she
laughed. She assured him she didn’t expect him to pay for it. The only reason
she’d asked him to come was to see if he liked it.”

“Ouch?”

“Yeah. Trust me,
even to a broke resident with massive college loans hanging over my head, that’s
a low blow to any guy’s ego. Instant emasculation.”

“I get that.”

“Seriously. But it
was only a matter of time. If it wasn’t the ring, it would have been something
else. Tuck’s heart wasn’t in it.”

“So if he’s okay,
how come he’s been missing in action? I haven’t seen him around the hospital or
church or anywhere.”

“Ah, that’s our
Tuck. He’s trying to give it time to blow over. He’s around. Just flying under
the radar until the melodrama subsides.”

“I’m glad he’s
okay. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s too nice a guy to get bullied.”

Trevor’s brow
dipped. “What’s wrong with saying that?”

“Remember, Tuck
and I have history.”

“Ohhhh, that’s
right. I forgot.”

“Trevor! When did
you get here?” Sandra asked, clapping him on the back.

“Just a little
while ago. Didn’t see you here,
Senorita Garcia
. How’s it going?”

She plopped down on
my lap and swung her legs. “Good! Especially now that you’re here!” She let loose
one of her signature laughs.

We chatted and
made more S’mores even though everyone else was starting to leave. I would have
stayed all night. Under the stars, the wonderful scent of the wood burning, the
cool night air. Heaven.

Instead, I helped
Rachel and Rich finish cleaning up while Sandra and Trevor talked. And talked
and talked. They laughed and talked some more. Rachel elbowed me, nodded her
head in their direction, and raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

Well, indeed.