“My friend from the club who knows Nate Miller’s sister.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Lauren’s stomach began to fizzle. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that last margarita.
“And she says Melanie, that’s Nate’s sister, is such a lovely girl!” There was a pause. “Did you know she was a lesbian? It used to be you could tell, but now, who knows these days? They look just like everyone else. Anyway, she’s totally on board with trying to fix you up with Nate! Oh, sweetie, that poor man. Did you know he proposed to some awful girl last weekend at The Harbor House? Apparently, it even made the news.”
“It was on YouTube, Momma.”
“That’s what I said. Anyway, lucky for us she turned him down. You’ve got to strike now while the iron is hot. Otherwise, he’ll be scooped up before you know it. He’s Whispering Bay’s newest most eligible bachelor!”
“Momma…can we talk about this later?” As in, never.
“Of course, honey. I just wanted you to know I was making progress.”
“Sounds good,” Lauren said absent-mindedly. She really shouldn’t worry. This was all going to come to nothing. Even if Nate’s sister really did want to fix him up, there was no way he would ever agree to go out with Lauren. No way what-so-ever.
“Nate, can I have a moment?” Doc motioned him into his office. “Have a seat.” Nate took the chair across from the desk. He crossed his ankle over his knee and sat back to take a breather. He’d seen almost twenty patients this morning. It was his best personal record. So far.
Doc sat on the couch next to the window. “How are things going?”
“Just fine, sir.”
Doc smiled kindly. But then, Nate didn’t think he’d ever heard the older gentleman utter a cross word. “No need to call me sir. Makes me feel old.” He chuckled. “Of course, I am old, I suppose. One day you’re thirty and just beginning your career, and before you know it, you’re hitting sixty-five, and there’s grandkids and everyone’s asking you when you’re going to retire.”
Nate nodded. Doc looked at him but didn’t say anything, making Nate think he was waiting for a verbal response. “When exactly are you going to retire, sir, um, I mean, Phillip?” It was odd, calling Doc by his first name, but they were colleagues now. And he’d already said he didn’t want to be called ‘sir.’
“You don’t mince words, do you? Generally, I like that in a person. Honesty is an admirable quality, Nate. But…occasionally, a more subtle approach is required. Take for instance, yesterday, when you told Frances Kiefer that she was too fat.”
Nate sat up straight. “I never said she was fat. I believe I used the term clinically obese. Her BMI was over forty.”
“Yes, but in her mind, that’s what she heard. She came to me this morning, crying.”
“Because she’s worried about her chances of developing diabetes and hypertension? I don’t blame her. According to her records she has a strong family history of both heart attack and stroke. I’m glad she’s taking my warning seriously.”
Doc made a pained face. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say here. Mrs. Kiefer is fully aware that she needs to lose weight. I’ve been telling her that for years. Oh, she’ll go on a fad diet and lose twenty pounds but then she’ll gain it all back and more afterward. Lecturing her isn’t going to get her to change her habits. It’s only going to make her avoid going to the doctor. Understand?”
“Not really. If I can’t tell her the truth, then how I am supposed to help her?”
“By easing her into a conversation. By gently reminding her about nutrition programs, exercise, that sort of thing.”
“And…that’s what you’ve been doing all these years?” Nate cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, um, Phillip, but it doesn’t seem that it’s worked.”
“No, I guess it hasn’t,” he admitted, “but your approach isn’t going to help, either. Just think about what I’ve said, Nate. Talk to the patients. Get to know them. That’s why they come here, you know. Take Dan Handy and his family. Dan was one of my first patients. Did you know that?”
Nate slowly shook his head. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next. He hadn’t liked the way he’d left things with Lauren Donalan the other day. She’d been angry with him, although, why, Nate couldn’t say. He’d been worried about her father. He thought she’d appreciate that. Instead, she’d called him Mr. Spock. Had she spoken to Doc about him as well? Having Mrs. Kiefer complain about him was bad enough, but if Lauren had done the same… For some reason, the idea made his stomach twist into knots.
“I went to Florida with Dan,” Doc continued. “We’re frat brothers. When I came back to practice medicine, oh, thirty-five years or so ago, there wasn’t a doctor in Whispering Bay. Everyone was going over to Panama City. I set up my shingle and I think I had ten patients that first week. Then Dan came to me on the pretense that he needed a physical. Told everyone that worked for him at his accounting firm that they needed physicals, too, and that the company would pay for them. Then he started sending over his whole family. And I don’t mean just Maureen. The whole Handy family started coming to me—Earl, and Margaret, rest her soul, and all their kids and all the aunts and uncles and cousins and, well, hell, you know them. Half the town is a Handy or related to one of them. Even though old Earl lives in Mexico Beach now, I’m still his doctor.”
It seemed as if the anecdote concerning Dan Handy was winding down. But Nate wanted to make sure. “So…Dan Handy’s daughter didn’t come to you with any complaints about me?”
Doc looked surprised. “No, should she have?”
“Absolutely not.” Nate felt the knots in his stomach ease up. “You’re a fine physician. They’re lucky to have you care for them.”
“I’m not looking for compliments. I’m telling you like it is. All those people I told you about? They don’t come to see me because I’m the best doctor in the area, they come to see me because they know I care about them. Because I know that Frances Kiefer isn’t going to be nagged into losing weight, so I joke about it with her and she laughs back and promises me that next visit she’ll be twenty pounds thinner. And I hope and pray for her sake that this is the visit that wakes her up. But mostly, I hope that she’ll never be too embarrassed or too nervous to tell me the truth about what’s going on, because then I really can’t help her.” He pointed to a framed cross stich embroidery next to his medical school diploma. “
See that there?”
YOU LIE TO THE POLICE. NOT TO YOUR DOCTOR.