Dr. Stud

“Your friend…” he starts when we are out of earshot.

“Didi,” I offer.

He smiles gently. “Didi, right. We’re not going to be able to give her Vicodin today. You know that?”

“I’m kind of figuring that out, yeah,” I say slowly.

“Actually, it might be better for you to get her into treatment.”

I take a breath and count to three.

“Today, if you can,” he continues.

There are million things I want to ask him, about me, about him, about what’s going on with my uterus. And now a million things I need to know about Didi.

“Treatment? As in, rehab?”

He shrugs sympathetically. “You must know, right? She’s pretty bad off, Joanna.”

Joanna. The sound of my name on his lips is like a dart that pierces right through me.

“Do you need my help? I can take you if you like.”

Emotion washes through me, overfilling me like a plastic cup. I feel myself get extremely sad, extremely quickly. I’m going to cry, right here on the sidewalk.

“No, thank you. I’ve…I’ve got it,” I mumble pointlessly as I try to back away. I want to smile, but I’m not sure that I do. His confused expression doesn’t look like a response to a smile.

The pharmacist gives me a slightly more sympathetic look when I stumble back inside, trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Didi. But when she glances up at me, it’s like she already knows.

“I guess we have to go,” she sighs.

It’s not a question.

“It will all be okay,” I murmur hopefully, holding out my hand.

She shrugs hopelessly. “Whatever you say.”

Chapter 21

Sturgill

With every step, I feel a little better. As soon as I opened the pharmacy door, I felt like I was caught in the tractor beam. Was I happy? Was I cautious?

The thing is, I have no idea. She seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see her. But as soon as our eyes met, she withdrew. I could feel her pulling away.

I suppose that’s exactly what she should’ve done. That’s exactly what we agreed to.

I suppose your powers of seduction aren’t exactly unlimited, Dr. Stud, I remind myself. Not every woman is just going to throw herself at you.

The entire time I was in Costa Rica, I flirted with the idea that Joanna and I had a connection. Why did I do this myself? Was I just bored? I don’t know. But obviously, there’s nothing. It was all in my imagination. Just that big, empty house tricking me into thinking I’m seeing ghosts. And maybe Mary and Arthur had something to do with it too.

I need to move on. Tinder? Something. I should do something.

“Jen, can you look into a new patient at Harbor Oaks?”

Jen glances up at me from her filing. “Sure, you got a name? Ne

w patient?”