Read Online What Matters Most by Gwynne Forster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gwynne Forster
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unusual, he knew, because he’d never been consumed with a desire to get to his Bolton Hill office. But what the heck!
Having that second office added a new and exciting dimension to his life. Go ahead and fool yourself, his conscience needled. You love the work, but it’s the woman who’s pulling you there right now.
He drove the Town Car to his office and, to his surprise, he found the space in front of his office blocked off at three-thirty in the afternoon. Two boys dashed over from nowhere and removed the orange cones.
“Hi, Doc,” they said in unison. “We don’t let nobody into your space.”
He thanked them, unlocked his office and went inside. She stood on a ladder changing a lightbulb. “Melanie, for goodness’ sake, what are you doing up there?” he asked her. “Couldn’t you wait till I got here?”
Her smile warmed him all over, and he admitted to himself again that she was the reason why he was there and not at the club, swimming.
“Hi. You’re early. If I don’t have light, I can’t see how to work, so I’m putting in some new lightbulbs.”
“That’s fine, but hop down. I’ll change the others.” He opened his arms. “Come on. I’ll catch you. Don’t you trust me?”
From the sudden tension in her shoulders, he guessed that she was about to be stubborn, and she proved him right. “I trust you implicitly, but I want to get some work done, and playing house with you won’t cut it. Besides, that’s not why we’re here.”
He knew he was getting to her, that she felt the heat of his body, that she was sensitive to him, and he meant to see how far he could go before she got her back up. She had some compunction about letting herself go with him, and that was probably wise, but he didn’t give her high odds for succeeding.
He grinned at her. “We wouldn’t be playing house. This isn’t the kind of house I play. Come on. You could work while I do that. My arms are wide open and I’m a strong guy, so don’t be afraid. I won’t hold you too close.”
As if she’d planned it—and he knew she hadn’t—her foot slipped, and he caught her. Whether she was embarrassed or merely disgusted, he wasn’t certain, but hard as he tried, he couldn’t control the laughter. He set her on her feet, stepped on the ladder and inserted the track lights.
“How’s your apartment coming?” he asked her.
“Wonderful. It’s livable, it’s mine and I’m the only one who lives there.”
He signed the checks she’d written to pay several bills and decided that he’d be wise to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her.
“Uh, Doctor. Midge’s mother has called here twice about her condition, and—”
He looked at her. “You didn’t want to bother me? Melanie, I’m that child’s doctor. Always let me know when a patient calls about something serious. Midge’s condition is very serious. What’s her address? Phone her mother and ask her if she wants me to go there and have a look at the child.”
He looked at the address that Melanie had written on the back of one of his cards. “How far away is this?”
“A little over two blocks. Midge’s mother wants you to come.” She gave him directions.
“I’ll walk. See you later.” He got two half-pint containers of ice cream from the freezer, left the office and covered the two short blocks in about five minutes. As he waited for Midge’s mother to answer the door, he wondered what he’d find. He had never entered the home of a really poor person, and when he walked into the small apartment—one of two on the first floor of what had once been a single-family home—he realized that its neat appearance surprised him.
He shook hands with Alice Hawkins and followed her to a sparse but tidy bedroom, where Midge lay in bed. He sat beside the bed, took the girl’s hand and smiled when she opened her eyes.
“How are you, Midge? Remember me? I’m Dr. Ferguson.”
“Hi, Doctor. Did you bring me any ice cream? In the
Having that second office added a new and exciting dimension to his life. Go ahead and fool yourself, his conscience needled. You love the work, but it’s the woman who’s pulling you there right now.
He drove the Town Car to his office and, to his surprise, he found the space in front of his office blocked off at three-thirty in the afternoon. Two boys dashed over from nowhere and removed the orange cones.
“Hi, Doc,” they said in unison. “We don’t let nobody into your space.”
He thanked them, unlocked his office and went inside. She stood on a ladder changing a lightbulb. “Melanie, for goodness’ sake, what are you doing up there?” he asked her. “Couldn’t you wait till I got here?”
Her smile warmed him all over, and he admitted to himself again that she was the reason why he was there and not at the club, swimming.
“Hi. You’re early. If I don’t have light, I can’t see how to work, so I’m putting in some new lightbulbs.”
“That’s fine, but hop down. I’ll change the others.” He opened his arms. “Come on. I’ll catch you. Don’t you trust me?”
From the sudden tension in her shoulders, he guessed that she was about to be stubborn, and she proved him right. “I trust you implicitly, but I want to get some work done, and playing house with you won’t cut it. Besides, that’s not why we’re here.”
He knew he was getting to her, that she felt the heat of his body, that she was sensitive to him, and he meant to see how far he could go before she got her back up. She had some compunction about letting herself go with him, and that was probably wise, but he didn’t give her high odds for succeeding.
He grinned at her. “We wouldn’t be playing house. This isn’t the kind of house I play. Come on. You could work while I do that. My arms are wide open and I’m a strong guy, so don’t be afraid. I won’t hold you too close.”
As if she’d planned it—and he knew she hadn’t—her foot slipped, and he caught her. Whether she was embarrassed or merely disgusted, he wasn’t certain, but hard as he tried, he couldn’t control the laughter. He set her on her feet, stepped on the ladder and inserted the track lights.
“How’s your apartment coming?” he asked her.
“Wonderful. It’s livable, it’s mine and I’m the only one who lives there.”
He signed the checks she’d written to pay several bills and decided that he’d be wise to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her.
“Uh, Doctor. Midge’s mother has called here twice about her condition, and—”
He looked at her. “You didn’t want to bother me? Melanie, I’m that child’s doctor. Always let me know when a patient calls about something serious. Midge’s condition is very serious. What’s her address? Phone her mother and ask her if she wants me to go there and have a look at the child.”
He looked at the address that Melanie had written on the back of one of his cards. “How far away is this?”
“A little over two blocks. Midge’s mother wants you to come.” She gave him directions.
“I’ll walk. See you later.” He got two half-pint containers of ice cream from the freezer, left the office and covered the two short blocks in about five minutes. As he waited for Midge’s mother to answer the door, he wondered what he’d find. He had never entered the home of a really poor person, and when he walked into the small apartment—one of two on the first floor of what had once been a single-family home—he realized that its neat appearance surprised him.
He shook hands with Alice Hawkins and followed her to a sparse but tidy bedroom, where Midge lay in bed. He sat beside the bed, took the girl’s hand and smiled when she opened her eyes.
“How are you, Midge? Remember me? I’m Dr. Ferguson.”
“Hi, Doctor. Did you bring me any ice cream? In the
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