Staci couldn’t help but snicker over the memory of hearing that tidbit. Jesus, Jen must have flushed from head to toe. And screamed bloody murder.
For Staci’s part, she was deeply wounded for her sister. But, in all honesty, Staci had seen it coming. No one could be that perfect without some cracks on the surface that eventually led to a harrowing shattering of every fiber of their being.
She wanted to get Jen on the cruise to break her sister free of her baking routine. Conversely, Staci had a feeling that routine was a necessary part of Jen’s healing process.
So Staci spent a good deal of time debating the push and pull there.
How was she to best help her sister during the anniversary of the eruption of her four-year marriage?
Was Staci supposed to talk Jen into the family excursion, or stock up on wine and chocolate and spend the week in Denver commiserating with her?
* * *
By morning, Staci still had not reached a decision.
Her focus was on work once again while thoughts of Valentine’s plans simmered in the back of her head.
She had some inquiries from the Board of Directors to address, a couple of conference calls, a charity luncheon, and a few meetings. By the end of the day, she found it odd that she hadn’t heard back from Dr. Evan Hart.
Perhaps her email had gotten lost in cyberspace.
She sent another. And phoned his office.
“Is this regarding an exam or a surgery?” his assistant asked.
“Neither, actually. I just need to speak with him.”
“I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment.”
What did that mean, really?
Staci left her name and number, along with the urgent request that Dr. Hart return her call regarding an important podiatry matter.
Two more days passed. No word from the surgeon. Staci was perplexed. An
d she was not one to be swept under the rug. Especially when she believed, to the depths of her soul, that this idea of hers was a gem worth mining.
So she sent another email. Called again.
Dr. Hart’s assistant, Tanya, asked if Staci could please inform her of the topic on hand so she could vet the call, since Staci wasn’t trying to book an appointment and didn’t have a referral from her physician.
Staci said, “I’d like to discuss the article published in the American Journal of Medicine that Dr. Hart recently wrote, concerning the adverse effects of high heels on—”
“I’m sorry, Miss Kay,” Tanya interjected. “I’m afraid the doctor isn’t taking questions regarding that piece. I trust you’ll have a good day.”
She hung up.
Staci stared at the iPhone she held in her hand.
She gaped.
How rude!
It took her a few seconds to come around. She hit the redial button.
“Staci Kay for Dr. Hart,” she said when the call connected.
Tanya said, “I’m sorry, Miss Kay. Dr. Hart isn’t available. He’s operating.”