Healing Touch (2 page)

His green eyes locked with my brown ones. My
heart pounded and I wondered if he read my inappropriate thoughts.
I waited to be yelled at. Instead he smiled and said, “You should
have picked up Bob Schmidt’s file. His is better reading.”

Swallowing hard, I tried to speak in a normal
voice. “Are you working part time at the Piggly Wiggly bagging
groceries? I guess that means this temporary placement at the
clinic isn’t working out. Bummer.”

Thankfully, he put more distance between us.
He set the bags down on the counter under the windows and unloaded
a few things. There must have been a fridge under the desk since he
ducked down a few times with creamer, butter, and cheese.

“Tracy, I know that you’re upset with me.
You’ve made that fact painfully clear during our last couple of
visits.”

I winced a little at his comment. The poor
doctor had been on the receiving end of my frustration. Frustration
caused by a small lump in my throat. A growth, a potential tumor
that I wished would just dissolve and be erased from my life
forever. Two weeks ago, I came in thinking I had a strange type of
sore throat. A couple of exams and an ultrasound later told me
differently.

Dr. Nelson removed files and mail from the
desk. The way he piled and moved things insured he’d never find
anything in those stacks again. My medical file disappeared with
all the rest.

“See, I’m good for something. I can clean off
a desk.” He swished his arm across the surface to remove the small
amount of dust that managed to find the faux oak. Once done with
that task, he folded his arms and gave me his full attention.

I felt bad. This man sitting in front of me
did nothing to deserve the grief I’d given him. I studied his
features while forming my apology. I admitted to myself that part
of the reason I agreed to come in for another visit was to see his
handsome face. Jeremy Nelson was easy to look at, in his early
thirties, medium build, strong hands, and wavy brown hair. A few of
the longer pieces curled because of the humid summer air. Many
women of Cherryville hoped the good doctor would turn his temporary
medical assignment into a permanent placement.

I pushed my hormones aside. “I’m sorry. I’ve
been a little frustrated with all of this. I know you think there
is something wrong with my thyroid.” I held up a hand at his
attempt to interrupt. “You’ve done blood work and an ultrasound to
prove me wrong. But I know my body; this is not a tumor. I refuse
to have a biopsy done and throw more money at my ridiculously high
deductible. It will go away on its own.” I leaned in to emphasize
my final statements. “Stop bugging me. It’s nothing.”

“I agree. That’s what I’ve been trying to
tell you. It is not serious but you need to get it looked at and
removed−”

My face felt warm as I spoke through gritted
teeth, “I said stop bugging me.”

We studied each other for a moment. I hoped I
had come across as firm but not rude. If he pushed the issue I
would have shown him Tracy Campbell’s version of rude.

He swept away a few remaining areas of dust.
“Ok, fine. So, why don’t you just have lunch with me?”

I slouched back in the old chair and crossed
my arms. My eyebrows furrowed as I squinted at him.

“Lunch? You want me to have lunch with
you?”

“Yes, Ms. Campbell, will you please have
lunch with me?”

I drummed my fingers against my chin.
“Lunch?”

“We’ve established that fact. Yes,
lunch.”

“Gee, I wish I could but I don’t have time to
go out for lunch. I’ve been gone from work for almost a half hour
already.”

“It’s a good thing then that I brought lunch
to us.” He disappeared under the desk only to reappear a moment
later with various clear plastic containers. Potato salad, ham on
wheat, tuna on a croissant, and a festive tub of Jell-o were laid
out on the desk.

I watched him set out paper plates, napkins,
and packets of salt and pepper. The tips of his curls were bleached
by the sun. The lighter ends matched the color of his eyelashes. He
was a very handsome man. Had he been thinking about asking me to
lunch for a while?

I shook my head to bring myself back to
reality. A relationship between the two of us was more than
impossible. The age difference alone made it ridiculous. Under his
white lab coat was a crisp blue dress shirt. The tie he wore looked
very expensive and he currently had on a gold watch and fancy tie
clip. I, on the other hand, dressed in the high fashions of
Wal-Mart. My ensemble consisted of an old Dale Jr. t-shirt and jean
shorts. Both looked ragged from too many years of wear.

The game he played would end soon. I knew
better than to fall for it.

“You didn’t buy that lunch for me. I bet you
have all sorts of stuff in there and you’re just trying to keep me
here longer so you can brainwash me into a biopsy.”

He slid the tuna sandwich to me. “That’s
partially true. My initial plan was to talk to you about the
procedure and have lunch with you. How about I make you a
deal?”

I did my best to ignore the sandwich. Tuna
was my favorite. “What kind of deal?”

His smile consisted of a few laugh lines and
one very faint dimple. “If you have lunch with me and tell me about
Cherryville, I promise not to bring up the biopsy.”

“Ever again?”

“Well, no, but I promise not to talk about it
for the next half hour. Deal?”

It sounded like a fair trade. The sandwich in
front of me looked better than the peanut butter and jelly I had
back in my office. Picturing my office, I looked down to inspect my
hands for grease stains. No matter how much I tried to keep my area
clean at work, I inevitably went home with a few black smudges on
my skin or clothes. Engine parts, greasy manhandled pens and phones
crossed my path daily. I didn’t have a glamorous job. Luckily my
long black hair blended well with the grease. Keeping it up in a
pony tail at all times helped.

I sighed and grabbed the container. This
whole conversation was very odd but my hunger won. “Thank you for
buying me lunch. My view of Cherryville is tainted. Are you sure
you want me to tell you about it?”

Dr. Nelson dove under his desk again. “I have
the feeling you will give me honest information.” He emerged with
two bottles of water.

The sandwich was fantastic. I didn’t
recognize the name of the deli on the package. Rumor had it that he
lived in a high brow suburb of Des Moines.

“Are you thinking about moving to Cherryville
or are you looking for confirmation on why you shouldn’t?”

“That depends. What are some positive aspects
of living here?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Seriously,
you’re asking the wrong person. First of all, you should ask
someone closer to your own age. I’m a middle aged, single mom. If
you want to know about the specials at the butcher shop or the
quality of the preschool, I’m your gal.”

He stared at me while chewing his lunch. In a
very serious tone he said, “Precisely, you’re my gal. I’ve been
trying to decide who I should talk to regarding Cherryville and I
keep coming back to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

I tried to hide my blushing cheeks behind my
sandwich. The best thing would have been to get him to stop staring
at me. Problem was, he had mustard on his lower lip and all I could
think about was licking it off.

“You have something on your lips, mouth… you
have food on your face.” I could barely talk. What was my
problem?

Before he could embarrass me further I
launched into my reply. “Let me think. Well, all the schools in
town are very good. Cherryville prides itself on a top notch
education. There are plenty of girls fresh out of high school
looking for potential husbands so your dating life would be filled.
You could be married by Christmas and attending the Kinder Nook
open house before you know it.”

“I’m not going to date high school
girls.”

“These girls are out of high school. Well,
come to think of it, most will marry the guy they dated throughout
school. So you will only have a few to pick from.” I spoke with my
mouth full. The tuna sandwich was disappearing at an alarming
rate.

“Not interested. So is that what you did,
marry your high school sweetheart?”

“Gee, Dr. Nelson, that’s a personal
question.”

“Call me, Jeremy. You don’t have to answer if
you don’t want to.” His expression indicated he wanted me to
answer.

He tossed my empty container in the garbage
and set the Jell-o between us to share.

I flashed him my bare left hand. “Not
married, well, I’m soon to be single. The final divorce papers will
be signed in the next few days.”

After a few hefty spoonfuls of the red blob,
I continued. “Mark was not my high school sweetheart. He and I met
at the shop. He used to live over in Ottumwa but moved to town
after his first divorce.” I paused for a moment. “God, what was I
thinking marrying him? I should have stuck to my plan of never
getting hitched.”

“So, that’s why you married later in life?
You had a plan?”

“Again with the personal questions. And what
exactly do you mean by later in life?” I laughed and threw my
crumpled up napkin at him, hitting him in the head.

“I have access to your chart. I know your
age. You just said yourself that most females in this town get
married right out of high school. I’m merely stating facts.”

“Fine. Yes, I had a plan to never marry. I
had a few crappy boyfriends over the years. The men in this
community are not prime husband material.” I polished off the water
and banged the empty bottle against my knee.

“You and your husband have been split for
about a year now, right? Why haven’t you dated anyone else?”

I banged the bottle on the desk in an
irritating rhythm until he grabbed it out of my hand and set it on
the counter behind him. Surely my body language told Jeremy I
wasn’t happy to be the subject of town gossip.

My reply was short and to the point. “There
will be no more dating.”

After a pause Dr. Nelson said, “Maybe there’s
someone out there meant for you, someone who will never hurt
you.”

“I’ve experienced too many examples of the
opposite. I seriously doubt that man exists.” I sighed. “One
wonderful thing did come out of my marriage though.”

“Your son, Cody.”

“Yes. He’s amazing. I never thought I could
love someone so much. By the end of the day I am exhausted from
chasing him, my house is a disaster from his toys and mishaps, and
I haven’t read a book or seen a complete TV show in years. But I
love that kid. He needs me and I need him.” My purse was full of
photos of Cody but I was trying to maintain a boundary. The one of
the little guy covered head to toe in mud was on top of the stack.
It took a lot of effort not to pull at least just that one out.

“Your face lights up when you talk about him.
He’s a lucky boy.” He looked at me inquisitively. “Is he the reason
why you’re afraid to get the biopsy? Because you’re worried about
what you might find?”

“I thought you weren’t going to bring that
up.” A few other photos popped into my mind. One of Cody and me
sitting on Santa’s lap, another swimming. “Yes, I’m scared.” I
sighed and wanted to say more but held back. “How did we get on the
subject of me and my life? You wanted to know more about
Cherryville.”

“As the new doctor in town it’s important
that the community accepts me. I’d like your help with that.”

“So you’re thinking about staying?” I smiled
despite myself.

“Between you and me, I’m thinking about
finding a place to rent in town. The final decision hasn’t been
made but I’m starting to like it here.”

Why did I feel like someone just handed me a
quadruple layer chocolate cake? I stood and walked to the grimy
windows and pushed back the ugly curtains. The clinic was on Main
Street and had a nice view of the activity downtown. Walking past
his chair I noticed his sun bleached curls and tanned neck
again.

“Why are you so tan? This is Iowa not
California.”

“I jog, umpire softball games, but mostly I
just like to be outside.”

“No golf? I was expecting you to say you
played golf at the country club.” I gave him a snooty accent. A few
of the town folk drove up and down Main. I noticed the bakery was
busy as usual.

He laughed. “Nope, I’m not the golfing type.
I also help my dad with his yard work once a week and we try to get
out fishing too. Now that mom is gone I try to spend more time with
him.”

I waited for him to tell me he was an Eagle
Scout. Could someone be that perfect? Problem was, I liked him the
more I heard. “That’s nice of you to spend time with your dad. My
parents are getting ready to leave for the winter. It’s their
annual trip to Sanibel Island, Florida along with the rest of the
Midwest.”

“I wish I could convince my dad to go. Maybe
your parents could tell him about the area they stay in.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t committing to that. My
parents would probably love his dad. My mom would be hearing
wedding bells.

“How about you, what are your hobbies?”

That made me bust out laughing. “You think I
have time for hobbies? I’m lucky to get my hair washed and up in a
pony tail each day.” My painting pastime was none of his business.
The conversation needed to get back on track. “If you’re going to
settle in town doing it while you’re young is a good idea.” I saw
Mrs. Larson walk out of the clinic and drive off in her gigantic
car.

“You seem very hung up on age. How old do you
think I am?”

I wanted to guess twenty-five but knew that
was wrong. “Um, well. I don’t have the advantage of looking at your
file.” I turned and smiled at him from the window. The corner of
his eyes crinkled in a grin. Why did he look at me like that? He
was going to give me the wrong idea. I’d like to have that idea but
still.