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Free Spirits Page 13


  Alex’s pride in her handiwork shone on her face as she surveyed the changes. “This is what I wanted to see,” she murmured.

  “What did you want to see, Alex?”

  She slowly turned, looking up at him. “Color. Bright and living color. This will be the first thing you’ll see when you come in. It will either soothe or energize you, depending on what you require.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “You really believe in this, don’t you?”

  “Of course. It’s been proven that color is important to a person’s well-being. No wonder I felt so terrible in the emergency room.” She shuddered dramatically. “All that white and beige. Ugh!”

  “That’s because you were in the section that hasn’t been repainted yet. They’re working on a soft blue. Almost the color of your eyes,” he murmured.

  Alex, normally not one to back down, decided this might be a good time to retreat. Michael’s earlier kiss still lingered in her mind in stunning detail. She was convinced all she had to do was lick her lips and she would taste him there.

  “I guess I’ve done enough damage for one day.” She turned away, intending to grab her purse and run.

  “Wait a minute, please.” His fingers curled around her arm. “The least I can do is take you out to dinner to thank you for all the work you’ve done.”

  “That isn’t necessary.” She refused to look at him. She, who was never uncomfortable around a man, found this one very disconcerting to be with.

  “Yes, it is,” Michael said quietly, firmly. “Besides, it’s a good excuse not to lose you for another couple of hours. Unless,” he hesitated as something else came to mind, “you have other plans.”

  Alex had to put him out of his misery fast “No, no other plans. But I would like to change my clothes first.”

  “How about I pick you up in an hour?” he suggested.

  “Perfect I’ll see you then.” This time she left, fully aware she was going home to two parents who were just going to love the news she was going out with someone other than Jason.

  “That nice doctor from the emergency room is taking you to dinner? How nice!” Marian followed Alex into the bedroom. “When did you see him? What are you going to wear?”

  “Today when I took a plant over there as a housewarming gift.” Needing some sort of calming agent, she quickly lit up a cigarette under her mother’s censorious eyes. “And I haven’t decided yet what I’m wearing.”

  “It took you all day just to deliver a plant?” Patrick stood in the open doorway, looking the part of the suspicious father. Except there was also that betraying twinkle in his eye.

  Alex pulled open her closet doors and rummaged through the contents. “He hadn’t unpacked the boxes yet, so I also helped him with some decorating. The only colors that man knows are hospital white, green scrubs, and boring beige. Where are my red slacks?” she muttered, pushing hangers to one side. She was so intent on her search she missed the knowing look Marian and Patrick shared. “I know they’ve got to be here. I picked them up from the cleaner’s last week.”

  “To your right,” Marian pointed out.

  Alex grabbed the appropriate hanger and pulled it out. The blouse she chose was white with a low vee neckline. Splashes of green, red, blue and black dotted the white silk. She pulled out a pair of red shoes and a blue clutch purse.

  “I’ve been dressing to go out for more than twenty years,” she reminded her parents.

  “I’m gone.” Patrick disappeared, in more ways than one.

  “I guess I should be grateful that you don’t go up in a puff of smoke or flames or something.” Alex stared at the empty spot where her father had stood. “My smoke alarm would never recover from the shock.”

  Marian remained seated on the bed. “I suppose you want me gone also.” She looked so wistful that Alex relented.

  She sat down next to Marian. “No, Mom, it’s just that you two are acting as if this man is going to make all your dreams come true. He’s only taking me out to thank me for helping him decorate his apartment.”

  “You can’t still want to be with Jason after last night?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, I think last night showed me the side of him I tried to pretend wasn’t true. Now I almost wonder if he wasn’t after my portfolio all the time.” She sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a man alive who will ever want me for myself,” she whispered, betraying a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyone.

  Marian put her arms around her the way she had when Alex was a little girl. “I know that kind of man is out there,” she assured her. “Just don’t be so picky!” she scolded playfully. “Sometimes the most unlikely ones are the best catches.”

  Alex mustered up a smile and laid her head on Marian’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much,” she told her. “There were days when I’d pick up the phone to call you because I’d heard or read something I knew would interest you and then I’d remember that it wasn’t your phone number anymore.” Her laughter held a strong hint of tears. “Do you know I even resented the people who bought your house? I didn’t like the idea that they could live there because you couldn’t. I hated fate for taking you away from me before I was ready to lose you.”

  Marian patted her shoulder in typical motherly fashion. “Are the new owners nice? I hope they left the tree in the front yard,” she mused. “It gave such lovely shade during the summer. Even if your father did complain about all the leaves he had to rake up every fall.”

  “Uh-hmm, they have two small children and a dog. They’re your typical all-American family.” She enjoyed the idea of her mother hugging her again. “When I first heard you and Dad were dead, all I could think of were the things I wanted to tell you. I felt there were so many things I didn’t have a chance to say,” she said in a small voice. .

  Marian smoothed her hair from her forehead. “Such as what, dear?”

  “Oh, that I finally understood why you grounded me when I came home four hours after my curfew that time I dated Ron Thomas. I wanted to relive that time we drove through Arizona and got lost and had so much fun wandering through the small towns. I know I acted like a little brat then because I was fourteen and felt I was too old to be on vacation with my parents. Every time I later thought about it I was afraid I had ruined it for you.”

  “No, Alex, you didn’t. We knew you were trying so hard to let us believe you weren’t having fun when you were.” Marian smiled. “When I realized I was taken away from you, all I could think of was that I would never have the chance to tell my daughter again how much I love her. That’s what hurt for me the most.”

  Alex sniffed. “I never even had a chance to see you one last time. We only talked on the phone before you left on that trip, because I felt I was too busy to go over and see you.”

  Marian kissed her cheek. “Then let’s consider ourselves lucky to have this second chance and perhaps say a few things we weren’t able to before.”

  “I’d like that.” Alex spied the clock. “Oh no, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” She hesitated, not anxious to break the special mood.

  “And you must look your best for Michael,” Marian told her. “Don’t worry, darling, we still have plenty of time,” she said easily reading her daughter’s thoughts.

  “Mom,” she hesitated, clearly uncertain how to phrase her request. “You and Dad won’t try anything strange with Michael, will you? He’s a nice man and if you tried the tricks you pulled on Jason, well…” She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug.

  She was very careful to keep her smile of triumph to herself. “We wouldn’t dream of doing anything, darling. His Aunt Chloe would never forgive us. After all, she’s hoping he’ll find the right woman, too.”

  Alex literally ran into the bathroom to escape any further assurances that didn’t sound the least bit reassuring! “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know.”

  Alex was ready with several minutes to spare. She used the extra time to remind her p
arents not to try any ghostly tricks they might have up their sleeves. And she refused to hear any more about Michael’s dear Aunt Chloe.

  “And you stop that,” she admonished Suzi Q, who sat by Marian yowling her own part of the conversation. “Or you’ll end up in a kitty straitjacket.”

  “Michael’s the doctor who treated your concussion?” Patrick beamed. “He seemed a good sort when he stopped by that night. Not many doctors would bother to check on a patient who’s no longer under their care. Especially one who walked out against his advice. Shows he truly cares about human beings and not what kind of fees they can contribute to his private practice.”

  “He’s strictly staff at the hospital. He prefers dealing in trauma medicine.” Alex set a bowl of gourmet cat food on the kitchen floor. She stood there, her arms crossed in front of her chest, toe tapping a merry tune while Suzi Q circled the bowl her usual seven times and sniffed the food twice before crouching down to feast on her meal.

  “It’s about time,” Alex muttered to the cat. “Everything with you is a ritual! If you met a gentleman cat to your liking, you’d probably set up another crazy ritual before settling down to business.”

  Suzi Q looked up and yowled, her delicate features twisted with disdain at her human’s idea of sarcasm. With a Siamese, ritual was a way of life—didn’t anyone else understand that? After informing Alex of those very important facts, she returned to her “It’s probably a good thing I had that nice veterinarian operate on you,” Alex let out her parting shot and left a screeching Suzi Q in the kitchen.

  “Sometimes that cat seems more human than feline,” Patrick remarked.

  “Sometimes? I think that she changes into an oriental beauty during the night and goes out nightclubbing,” Alex grumbled, snatching a sly look at the clock, not without her parents noticing her impatience with the passing moments.

  At the first chime of the doorbell she spun on her heel to confront her parents.

  “I mean it, not one ghostly trick,” she warned. “Or I’ll call the Ghostbusters.”

  “Just what we need, Bill Murray making jokes,” Patrick mumbled as Alex’s hand covered the doorknob. He held up his hands in surrender when he caught her threatening expression. “No problem, we’ll behave.”

  Michael, dressed in gray slacks and a blue-and-gray striped shirt, smiled at Alex who gestured him to enter.

  “Quite a change from the softball field,” he told her, stepping inside.

  “I try to keep people guessing,” she quipped.

  “Offer him something to drink, dear,” Marian prompted.

  A flash of impatience entered Alex’s eyes and left swiftly. “Would you like a drink?” she asked pleasantly, one hand hidden behind her back as she waved ‘get lost!’ to her parents.

  “No, thank you. I guess you could say I’m a wet blanket when it comes to drinking. I’ve seen too many victims of drunk drivers,” he said without apology.

  “A big difference from Jason, who seems to enjoy his wine a little too much,” Patrick commented.

  “He had three glasses with dinner that one time we had him over, along with a brandy afterward,” Marian recalled. “And he didn’t appear to hold alcohol very well.”

  Alex bit back a scream. “Let me get my purse.” She turned around and her eyes flashed a warning message before she hurried into her bedroom.

  “You have a very nice place here,” Michael told her when she returned. He held an ecstatic Suzi Q purring in his arms, not caring that cat hair would end up on his shirt.

  Alex couldn’t remember the last time that cat had been so comfortable with someone she wasn’t familiar with. Come to think of it, there were a few people she was familiar with she didn’t act that friendly with. Including Alex.

  “Thank you. I moved in just after my divorce. I felt very lucky to find it. It’s so difficult to find apartments that accept pets, although Suzi Q doesn’t consider herself anything close to a pet.”

  Michael’s hand rested against the small of her back as they left. “I hope you like Mexican food,” he was heard to say as they walked out the door.

  “Mexican food gives her heartburn,” Marian commented. “That’s one thing she’s always known—to tell a date that she can’t abide Mexican food.”

  “It’s one of my favorites.” Alex’s reply floated back as the door closed.

  Patrick chuckled. “After that dinner, she’s going to be in for a long night—and not the way she might enjoy it, either.”

  Marian stood up and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll put out the Maalox.”

  Within moments they were downstairs and walking toward Michael’s car.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t bought a house by now.” He assisted her into the car.

  “That’s what my business manager says, but I haven’t seen anything that strikes my fancy, and I won’t buy a house just for the sake of owning one. He thinks I’m crazy.”

  “Let him. You’re the one who has to live in it.”

  She was pleased by his comment. “You’re right.”

  “How do you look for a house? The newspaper ads? Real estate agencies?”

  Alex shook her head. “I’m someone who isn’t sure what exactly I want. I just watch the real estate ads on cable, where they show houses in the area. What I’m afraid of is that Suzi Q is so used to apartment living that she’d have trouble adjusting to a house with a real yard. And Mom and Dad definitely wouldn’t like to move now that they’ve settled in so well,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I beg your pardon?” Michael glanced at her briefly as he drove.

  She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing important. Just my brain going off in different directions.”

  “Did it do that before your concussion?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I’ve been told it’s an occupational hazard with creative people.”

  “From what you’ve said, creating a comic strip is hard work, so I guess your mind is going whenever it’s necessary,” Michael replied.

  “Yes, it is. Not to mention, I’ve been approached to do a book of cartoons and they want new material, not what’s been printed already,” she sighed. “I’ve been putting them off for almost a year now, but I’m going to have to come to a decision soon.”

  “It sounds as if you don’t want to do one.”

  Alex shrugged. “I have plenty of work to keep me busy, so I guess I’m not as worried about it as some people think I should be.”

  The restaurant Michael chose was large, colorful and somewhat noisy with cheerful diners.

  Alex ordered a margarita first thing, in hopes it would numb her stomach to what she knew was coming. Why hadn’t she told him that she had a cast-iron stomach for every kind of food except Mexican? She could eat the hottest of oriental and Indian cuisine and not suffer a twinge, but one lowly taco could send her stomach into absolute agony. She made a mental note to check the contents of her purse for antacid tablets. She perused the menu and decided she would be safe with chicken with rice. That couldn’t be too spicy. She winced as she listened to Michael order carnitas with plenty of hot salsa and flour tortillas on the side.

  “Are you settling in all right?” she asked after their drinks arrived. She sipped the tart liquid with pleasure.

  “As well as someone who works an eighty-hour week can. I found a grocery store and dry cleaner between home and the hospital and a few fast-food restaurants.” A wry smile lit up his face.

  “If it’s such a hectic life, why do you work in trauma medicine?” she asked curiously.

  “For the satisfaction,” he said simply. “Trauma medicine is still a relatively new field, and most hospitals don’t have anything even close to a trauma center or doctors equipped to handle large-scale emergencies. There’s nothing more grievous than for a hospital to be the recipient of victims of a multi-car accident and not know enough about triage and the handling of trauma cases.”

  Suddenly he appeared uneasy. “Sorry. I can go on about this
ad nauseam. Usually people’s eyes start to glaze over before five minutes are up.”

  “Do my eyes look glazed?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “No, they look lovely.”

  Alex blinked. It wasn’t the first time she’d received a compliment, but it was the first time she felt she heard one that was truly sincere without any hidden meaning.

  “You were talking about trauma medicine,” she prompted softly.

  “Basically it’s the idea of dealing with several cases at once, knowing which ones are the most critical, which ones can wait and who handles what. It’s very high-pressure and burnout isn’t uncommon.”

  “You’re so calm, so laid-back that it’s difficult to imagine you in something that intense.” Alex sipped her margarita and chose a warm, salty taco chip. Michael, likewise, took a chip, but dipped it in salsa before eating it.

  “It’s better that way,” he explained. “Maybe it’s this laid-back attitude of mine that helps me cope with it all. While others run around like chickens with their heads cut off, I’m plodding on.” He ducked his head. “I generally don’t go on like this. Which accounts for the once bland and boring apartment that now looks as if someone stole in with buckets of bright colors.”

  “Hey, Duffy, there’s nothing wrong with being committed to your work.” Alex reached across the table to cover his hand with hers. “And as I said before, I never thought of you as bland and boring, so cut it out, okay?” She closed her hand around his in a mock-fierce grip. “We’ve got to work on that male ego of yours, buddy. It’s much too big!”

  He couldn’t help but join in with her laughter.

  “Doesn’t anything ever get you down?”

  “Only seeing my ex. He gets me downright depressed.”

  He found himself hating the idea of vibrant Alex married to a jerk such as Craig. “Because the marriage was so bad?”

  “Because he has enough arrogance for ten men. Have you ever seen his office nurse?”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Matilda the Hun?”

  She laughed at his more-than-accurate description. “Personally I always felt she looked more like Margaret Hamilton. Do you know why he has a nurse who looks like her? Because he’s afraid a young, pretty nurse would only fall in love with him and complicate matters. With Irene he doesn’t have to worry about constantly interviewing new office nurses. Now, that’s a big ego.”