and then the significance of their own lives. She learned that it was easier for everyone if she just lied. Vic and Vivi ceased to exist and she was just a widow. There were a lot of widows and widowers out there. They can relate. It was too bad, but she was still young. Life goes on. But then they start to try to match her up with someone. Soon, the lie extended to time. The date of the accident ceased to exist. If it’s only been a year, no one tries to play matchmaker. They don’t even think about it. She was still in mourning. Not proper. She hated to lie, but it was easy and it worked.
Of course she was going to have to go to dinner. Doc Hawley and his wife/office manager wanted to check her out and give her the lay of the land. To them, this was more than just covering random emergency room patients and rounding on patients in the hospital. It was taking over their practice for a while. She was also certain they wanted to see what a female locum looked like. There was no doubt in her mind that ol’ Doc Hawley never came within spitting distance of a female orthopedic surgeon in his training and maybe in his entire career. When dealing with the locum agencies a physician usually had to take what was available. Clients were always happy with the job Leslie did and so the agency didn’t have any problems convincing subsequent clients to use the female orthopod.
Terryl called with directions. He had been held up with some hospital business and would have to give her the tour tomorrow. Hospital business. She remembered the time she had gotten caught in her hospital restroom without toilet paper. She had to walk out into the sink area with her pants down around her knees to grab some paper towels out of the canister on the wall. Fortunately no one was in there at the time. She finished her business with as much dignity as she could muster. She washed her hands and went straight to the administrator’s office where she chewed him out and was assured that it would never happen again. And it didn’t. Hospital business.
Terryl apologized. Leslie really didn’t mind missing the tour today. She didn’t change her clothes. Watched a little TV before it was time to go.
Raghu was back tonight. “Goodnight, Dr. Cohen. See you later.”
She gave a short wave as she walked past his desk. Outside it was windy and cold. The two sets of automatic doors created some turbulence between them, and it whipped her coat and hair in different directions. Under the portico the wind came sideways, hard. She pulled her coat around herself. Dirt, accompanied by pieces of paper and Styrofoam raced across the asphalt. She could see a fence to her left at the end of the parking lot where the debris was entangled, cut off indefinitely from some journey. Could a paper cup go all the way from Abilene to Waco? Could it go to the Atlantic? Her car was parked in front of the fence. Pieces of paper and a plastic grocery bag were stuck on the fence. Little criss-cross lines etched into their surfaces. The wind thrashed them against the wires. They buzzed, screaming to get free. She walked over and picked one off the fence. Then let it loose. It shot across a ditch, got caught in a whirlwind and then stuck again in a dead bush. Others were stuck there too. Never meant to make it anywhere. Staying in Abilene.
She opened her car door. The wind yanked the door out of her hand. She reached to keep it from hitting the car parked next to hers.
As Leslie drove across Abilene she could feel the wind lash against her car in the intervals between buildings, on overpasses, and as she passed other vehicles. Dirt darted across the highways, bringing ancient debris with it. She passed strip shopping centers, old and new, then hotels, small neighborhoods and gas stations. Texas was for the most part, unzoned, and there might be a gas station or a strip shopping center or a Wal-Mart right next to a neighborhood. It was sometimes unsightly, but there was beauty in opportunity. In Kansas, she could drive for miles and see only factories, or see only homes. There was beauty in that too.
She turned into an upper end neighborhood, and following Terryl’s directions, arrived at the ranch-style home of Dr. and Mrs. Hawley. It was smaller than she had expected. Creamy light glowed from inside. Inviting. Open. Paintings, upholstered chairs and lamps were visible from the street. She guessed this was a forty-year-old neighborhood. There were larger trees here than she had seen in the rest of Abilene. Most likely planted when the area was developed. Somebody was thinking back then. The neighborhood was quiet, dark and the streets were wide. The trees blocked the wind where she was but up in the tree tops she could see its frantic struggle.
The doorbell was answered by barking dogs. Through the leaded glass windows inside the door she could see labs. Eager yellow dogs with thick pipe-like tails wagging their hindquarters from side to side. It looked like they couldn’t wait to jump up on her so she was prepared for it when the door was opened.
“Jake, Booker, sit,” a soft but stern voice called to them. Instantly the two sat down while keeping their anxious brown eyes fixed on Leslie. Pipe tails still twitching back and forth, storing energy. She reached down with one hand to pet them and the other to shake her hostess’s hand.
“Hi, Leslie Cohen. Beautiful dogs. I had labs when I was a kid.”
“These are our kids now that Hal junior is grown. And they’re a little easier to take care of than he was. I’m Brenda. It’s so nice to meet you. We’re so glad you were able to come here and take over big Hal’s practice for a while.”
“Well, the agency just pointed me in the right direction and here I am.” It wasn’t that clever but Brenda chuckled diplomatically anyway.
“The boys like you but just let me know if they’re bothering you.” Then to the dogs, “Jake, Booker, settle down.” Leslie didn’t know if dogs understood “settle down” but they could understand a firm voice. They quieted and trotted alongside of her, watching her every move. Waiting for an opportunity to get a paw up, lick, sniff or better yet, get a petting out of her. She obliged them.
“Come on in the kitchen. You can help me get things finished in here while we wait for Hal. He’s running late in surgery. I’m sure you know what that’s all about.”
“Sounds like things have been really busy. Terryl kind of filled me in this morning.” Leslie paused and reached down to pet the dogs again. She continued looking down. “I understand Doctor Hawley is to have surgery in Lubbock on Monday.”
“That’s right. Everything’s going to be just fine. He’s just going to need some help until he gets his energy back. Sweetie, everyone calls him Doc. You know, it’s just always been that way. If you said Doctor Hawley, well, some people might not even know who you were talking about. Just Doc.” Brenda got busy with the food. Leslie was going to have to get used to saying Doc.
There was nothing pretentious about her home, or the lady, for that matter. Brenda was trim. Leslie guessed she was in her early fifties. Short grey hair, pretty grey, no yellow. She looked like she might have been athletic. Maybe still is. Her skin was tanned, a little leathery. Tennis player or something. Might be hard to find the time if she’s really managing his practice full time. Some wives just hang out at the office a lot, but don’t really manage it. Maybe get in the way a little. One of her former partner’s wives did that. Very annoying. Chased off two or three receptionists before she wore out her welcome.
“So Mr. Wells tells me you run the office.” She decided to jump right in and get to the meat. A few questions about coding or medical records and she’d be able to tell just how involved Brenda was.
Brenda proceeded to tell Leslie all about the office, how it ran, employees, pension plan, Privacy Act stuff, and before long it was apparent that she was in fact the office manager. Not just sniffing around.
Leslie decided to jump in a little further. “So you’ve been working for Doc since the start?”
“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. See, Doc hired me as a nurse when he first started. I did
