The Doctor and the War Widow (5 page)

“I was. Lucky for you my cell number was on your phone. I’d just gotten home when Sr. Elizabeth called the house.” Judy cast an anxious glance at David. “Is she okay?”

“Seems to be. Her heart beat was a little irregular, but it’s since settled down.” He gave Harley a smile that was pure sensuality. Even in high school, David could make a girl think he knew what she looked like minus her clothes. Harley wondered how some woman hadn’t yet charged him with sexual harassment. No wonder his wife was so damned insecure that she had to brag incessantly about a life that in reality was less than perfect.

“Look, I’m fine.” Harley swallowed the last of the water. “It was just too bloody hot in that gym.”

“I’ll take you home with me.” Judy placed a hand on Harley’s forehead.

Harley rolled her eyes. “It was just too hot. I really want to go home.”

To Harley’s surprise, Judy didn’t press it. She waited as Harley pushed her feet into her sandals and then slipped an arm around her. Judy was Eden’s niece and Harley’s senior by three years. She sometimes treated Harley like a child, but Harley respected Judy’s level head and practicality. “Sure, let’s get you home. You can snuggle with Nico.”

“Yes, you take it easy this summer, Harley.” Sr. Elizabeth patted her arm. “I need one of my best teachers when school starts.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Harley smiled at the steely-eyed gray-haired nun. She wished the nun wouldn’t be such a hypocrite. The woman had always hated Harley and her friends.

Harley brushed past the bishop. “Take care, Harley. I know you’ve been under some stress lately. I was very sorry to hear about your mother.”

“It was just too hot.” Harley stared into the old man’s face. He cast a penetrating glance her way.

Harley turned from him and bolted through the door, Judy at her heels. As they reached the parking lot, Harley saw Mary Ann speaking with Jenny Marcot, another former classmate. Mary Ann was oblivious to Harley’s presence or pretended to be, and her voice echoed through the humid air. “Well, you know, old maids always are nervous.”

Harley resisted the urge to traverse the lot and punch Mary Ann in her smug face. She sighed wearily. “I’m okay, Judy. I can drive home. Please go on without me.” The last thing Harley wanted was pity or mothering.

Chapter 5

Later that day, Harley was glad to have another round of edits to occupy her time and spent the rest of the afternoon editing. She knew that if Donna heard her, her old friend would say she was perverse, but Harley didn’t care. She was either going mad or was uncontrollably menopausal. If she were losing her mind, she could look forward to spending time in a mental asylum, wearing white and staring at four walls. If she were madly menopausal, her life would be only slightly better than if she were mad. She didn’t want to think of growing old, developing hair in unwanted places, or of gaining unwanted pounds. Too often older women talked of nothing else but their female problems at doctor’s offices and styling salons. They worried about the weather, harbored paranoid delusions that terrorists were specifically targeting them, fantasized about unobtainable movie stars, and interfered in their children’s lives.

Well, Harley thought, she had no children, but she prayed she wasn’t going to develop the schizophrenic tendencies she associated with menopause. Such women were, at the least, considered mildly eccentric by their associates, and at the extreme, were considered mad women in the attic.

“Better buy some black cohosh and St. John’s wart the next time I’m in the drugstore,” she mumbled as she finished another sex scene. Her protagonist had just met a modern day pirate and was caught in his passionate embrace. Harley munched on celery sticks while she typed. After less than a half hour, Harley pressed the ‘submit’ button on her program. “Another sex scene off to Jill.” She smiled at the irony that a best-selling author who wrote steamy sex scenes was getting so little sex and possibly suffering from menopausal hysteria. Harley took a sip of wine and then moved to shut down her computer.

“Oh, why the hell not see if somebody sent me a message?” She went to her e-mail and saw that she had received ten new e-mails. Two were clear nutcases.
Oh, please, Sexy Mama, save me from this broken heart.

Harley shook her head and laughed.
Delete
. The next blared from the screen.
Oh, you’re gorgeous. I bet you’ve had some good rumbles in the hay
.

Delete.

The third actually was literate, and didn’t use cringe-inducing text language.
You sound intelligent, witty, and well-rounded. You’re also very beautiful. I’d like to meet you, and I’ll meet wherever you’re comfortable. I’m an educated professional, and I know this form of communication can be intimidating. It is for me, too
.

Harley smiled as she read. Here was a man who didn’t sound like a moron. She clicked on his profile and waited for reality to set in. Many of these men had looked promising at first until she’d scrutinized them more closely. This particular one was nice-looking. He had close-cropped, dark hair. Not a kid by any means, but very handsome. She read about his occupation and giggled softly. “A doctor. . . You’d like that, Eden.” Harley remembered her mother’s half-joking fantasies that Harley would marry a doctor and shook her head, still smiling. She read on. He was widowed with one daughter. Last name Sharif. First name Abisi. Harley stared at the name. The profile said he was born in Egypt. Harley had heard that Egypt was turning more and more fundamentalist. She leaned back in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She murmured, “God, extremism killed John. Can I do this?” Harley sighed and berated her own narrow-mindedness. “Remember that not all Muslims are extremists. Prejudice is just plain evil.” Nico sat near her, wagging his tail in seeming agreement and shot her a look that seemed to say,
Go for it.
Well, maybe she needed some adventure in her life, to break out of her comfort zone. Hopefully, this guy would provide it.

Nico nuzzled against her leg and then placed his face on her thigh.

“What’s up, boy? Would you like having a nice doctor around here? At least, he can write like a human being. You’d write better than some of these guys.”

Nico wagged his tail happily and gazed at her expectantly. Harley didn’t want to commit herself to meeting the guy yet. Writing e-mails seemed harmless, but a meeting would mean she was obligated to keep talking to or meeting him. A large part of her was still very committed to John. “Let’s take a walk, boyfriend.” She rubbed Nico’s ears.

When she passed Eden’s sealed room, Harley heard what sounded like a pecking at the window. She hurriedly made her way to the kitchen and retrieved the dog’s leash. Once in the street, Harley glanced at the window of her mother’s bedroom. A large white dove flew nearby, its wings fluttering rapidly. Harley stared at it for a long time and then talked to Nico as he trotted by her side. “What should I do? This guy seems literate and considerate, but he’ll probably have some of the same issues as all the others.”

The dog wagged his tale and gazed at her with a look that Harley sensed was cynicism. “Okay, I know. I have issues, too.” She suppressed a sob that turned into an ironic laugh and pushed her hair behind her ears. Sharp grief clawed at her soul. Harley hated how the grief could suddenly cast a cloud over her existence even without warning. “Too many people have gone. Too many. I’m tired of death.”

Nico moved closer, nuzzling against her leg. “This man’s older than I am. A lot. But maybe I should take a chance. Young people can die, too.” A tear rolled down Harley’s cheek.
So tired of loss
.

A squirrel diverted Nico from Harley. He almost pulled her to a tall oak tree. The small creature quickly scampered to the treetop. Nico moaned softly in frustration and pulled at his chain. “Sorry, you can’t climb. Besides, you didn’t help me with my problem. Donna will tell me to e-mail, but she’s almost like the girls at work, determined to see me married or at least hooked up. Cousin Judy will warn me in a thousand different ways to be careful.” Harley knelt to hug her dog.

Nico licked her face. Harley laughed. Her mood had suddenly lightened. “You’re right. What the hell can it hurt?”

When she returned to the house, Harley opened the box of dog biscuits and fed one to the waiting Nico. She then returned to the last round of edits and submitted. After these edits were approved, Harley would have to approve the cover art for her book and write the dedication page. She had nothing to do until she had the final approval. Besides, she had an idea for another story. She opened a new document and then paused. In not answering that man, Harley knew she was being a coward, and a rude one at that. Neither of her parents would approve. Her mother was undoubtedly rolling over in her grave that she’d raised a rude child. Her father would chide her for being gutless.

“Oh, why the hell not! Right, boy?”

Nico yawned and settled at her feet.

“Okay I’m boring you. I’m on my own, I guess.” Harley scratched the dog’s ears, logged on to the site and clicked ‘reply.’ She wrote quickly.
I was reading your profile. I like everything from opera to Rock ‘n’ Roll. I have two degrees in English. Like you, I enjoy reading, writing, and gardening. I also love following current events. Some people say I’m opinionated.

Harley submitted the e-mail, still grinning at the last sentence. Would the man read her sarcasm? Would he think she was serious? Well, if this man didn’t like what she had to say, he wouldn’t respond. No big loss.

Would you like to meet?

Harley’s heart pounded as she read her e-mail early the next morning. Would she? Abisi’s e-mail was literate, sane, and intelligent. He was eloquent. I love opera. As a boy, my father bought records of “LaBoheme,” but I also listened to the Beatles when I was a medical student in London. He then went on about his garden.
I love roses, but they are hard work in this soil. Pansies are beautiful and work well here.
He finished in a gentlemanly fashion.
I’ll meet you anywhere you want. I know a woman has to be careful.

Harley scratched behind Nico’s ears. “I guess I could do worse.” She smiled down at her dog’s adoring face. “Well, should I agree to meet him?”

Nico wagged his tail, mouth open.

“You think I should, don’t you?” Harley shrugged. “Okay. It couldn’t hurt so long as I meet him in public. My goal is ten pages today. I’ll write him after I reach my goal.”
Good, a chance to chicken out if I choose
.

Harley was working on a project unlike any she’d attempted before. Most of her romances were what she called “typical chick lit.” She didn’t deride chick lit because it had earned her some substantial bucks through the years, but this new novel was the story of Grace O’Malley. Nico sat at Harley’s feet as she typed, occasionally coming to her side as she muttered to herself. Sometimes, she thought the dog was reading as she worked.

“Pretty good, eh, boy?” She rubbed Nico’s head and gave him a nose kiss.

The dog wagged his tail enthusiastically and trotted off toward the kitchen. He returned with his leash gripped firmly between his teeth.

“Good idea, let’s take a walk.” Harley attached Nico’s leash to his collar and led him to the doorway. She slipped her keys into her pants pocket and gazed down at the dog. “You know I’m putting this off, don’t you?”

Nico opened his mouth, tongue protruding, in what looked like a huge grin. Harley walked him around the block, unlocked her door, released Nico, and then refilled his nearly full water bowl. The dog sat in the middle of the kitchen, watching her as she worked. To Harley, his eyes held a judgment.

“Okay, I know. I’m putting this off.” Harley trod into her office and switched on her computer. Navigating to the site, she pulled up her mail. The words jumped out at her.
I’ll meet you anywhere you want.

Harley took a breath. The tears burned behind her eyes. She suddenly saw John before her quite plainly. She remembered the warmth of his hand in hers as they walked along the river. Harley saw him vividly as he pumped his arm in the air during a Saints game, and the tears stung her eyes when John appeared before her in uniform on the day they were married. More than any time in her life, Harley wished her mother were alive. Wiping a tear from her eyes, Harley glanced at the picture of Eden framed beside the computer. “What should I do? I know. You never liked it when I took chances.”

Harley paused and considered the fairness of her comments. Eden had always pushed her to make friends and to meet new people. Harley simply wasn’t a gregarious person, and it was time to admit that. She and John had clicked because they were somewhat bookish and solitary. In John, Harley had had a soul mate, and she doubted she’d find another any time soon. Well, maybe this man would be an interesting diversion. She’d bring her own money on the date, but maybe this Abisi was an old-fashioned gentleman and would pay for lunch. She’d at least have a free meal.

She began typing. “Hi! I’d love to meet you. Do you like pizza? Theo’s Pizza on Canal Street is great. Would you like to meet Saturday around noon?” She clicked the submit button. Harley figured she had three days to chicken out.

Nico’s mouth spread into what looked like a smile. He nudged her leg.

With Nico beside her, she made her way to the kitchen, reached into a cabinet, removed a bottle of whiskey, and poured herself a shot.
God, was the thought of dating sending her to the bottle?

An hour later, Harley checked her messages. He had replied. Instinctively, she knew her destiny would change, but she was unsure if that change would bring her happiness. Loving meant taking risks. Harley’s lungs deflated when she read his response. “Yes, I’ll meet you anywhere. I’m looking forward to it.”

Harley arrived five minutes early, turned onto Carrollton and parked in the lot behind the building. She retrieved a compact from her purse and gazed at herself for several minutes. “Not half bad for somebody almost forty.” Her makeup was always tasteful, and her jeans definitely were slimming. She glanced at her hands to see if there were no chips in the nail polish. She straightened her pink silk blouse, stepped out of her car, locked the door, and made her way to the restaurant. With each step she took, Harley prayed that this date would be painless. She mumbled, reciting a mantra, “Please, God, don’t let him be an ass. This is lunch, not just a drink. I can’t escape so easily.”

Harley recognized him from his picture the minute she saw him. Abisi stood the minute she entered. He’d been waiting for her. She extended her hand, and he took it firmly in his. His hands weren’t soft. They were a gardener’s hands. The man’s profile said he was sixty, but no gray shone in his close-cropped beard or in the ebony hair that clung to his head like a crown. His black slacks fit nicely. He was not a skinny man, but definitely not fat and much taller than she. Harley liked that. She was 5’9, and she’d liked that John was 6’2. Abisi was probably taller than John. His dark gaze was intelligent but kind. He pulled out her chair. Harley smiled broadly. Most of them didn’t even stand when she’d entered. A warm liquid slowly melted through her body. He was the first to display such Old World politeness, and Harley’s face grew warm at the subtle heat his very nearness generated.

“I wanted to wait for you to order. Your profile indicated you were vegetarian. Do you also abstain from wine?” Abasi spoke the words close to her ear. He had a distinctive, rich accent
.

Harley had to admit that this initial meeting was not only turning out well but was exciting. She answered quickly, “No, no, I don’t. I’d love a glass of Merlot.” Harley smiled at him as he sat across from her. The man was polite and considerate of her as a woman. Could she have met a winner after such a long succession of sad losers?

“Since you suggested this establishment, I imagine you know the place.” Abisi gazed at her over the menu. “What would you suggest?”

Harley replied quickly, “The hippie pizza and the house red wine.”

He nodded. “The hippie pizza it is, but since this is a special occasion, may I suggest the merlot, especially since you did?”

“Of course.” Harley
smiled, happy, but
hoped her date was paying. The wine list was pricey. Harley studied the man opposite her. How in hell did people start conversations these days? She hadn’t dated in years, and her latest forays into Internet dating had been nothing short of disaster.