“And he’s so very sweet tempered!” Heather said. “Just this morning he was smiling in a way that I’d never before seen any human do. Lit up the entire room, didn’t it? I certainly felt it!”
The other women enthusiastically agreed as they looked at Sophie with wide eyes.
As she went up the stairs to the apartment, Sophie couldn’t help smiling. It was obvious that the women had crushes on their Dr. Reede.
It was at lunchtime, just as Sophie had finished the computer work, that he called. He started with a profuse apology for standing her up that morning.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I understand. My job is to help you, not get in your way.”
“That’s nice,” Reede said hesitantly. “So how are you getting along?”
Sophie took her time telling him of all that she had done since their last phone call, but he didn’t seem interested in the banking.
“What about your art? My sister says that she’d die if she couldn’t create things—but then Kim is a bit melodramatic.”
“I used to feel that way, but it’s been so long since I created anything that I don’t remember what it’s like.”
Reede hesitated. “I’m sure Kim told me, but what kind of art do you do?”
“Sculpting.”
“Like welding steel structures?”
“I mainly worked in clay. When I graduated I had a job offer of sculpting the heads of the American presidents for a company that made silverware. I was to make them about a foot tall, then they’d reduce them and put them on the handles of teap
ots. George and Abe and Mr. Jefferson would have profiles put on flat-ware.”
“That sounds . . . ”
“Tacky?” she asked, smiling. “I’m sure it would have been, but it was a beginning.”
“So why didn’t you do it?”
She told him of her mother dying and leaving twelve-year-old Lisa under the care of a disgusting man. “I figured he’d be climbing into bed with her the day after the funeral.”
“So you stayed and took care of her.” There was awe in Reede’s voice.
“I did what I had to,” she said modestly.
But Reede saw past her attempt to dismiss what she’d done. He well knew what sacrificing yourself took out of you. “Were you ever tempted to run away?”
“Why don’t you pack up and leave town now?”
“Family obligations,” he said, then paused. “I see. It was the same with you.”
“Exactly the same.” She was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, and when she moved she gave an involuntary yelp of pain.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes and no. I’m bruised from hitting the side of a road. A reckless driver nearly ran me over.” She gave him a brief account of what had happened.
“So you don’t know who was driving?”
“I know his car and—Wait a minute! Russ was sitting near him at the restaurant, so he knows who he is! I’ll have to call and ask him. Maybe I should do that now. The creep should be taken off the road for driving like that. He should—”
“I’m sure he’s far away by now,” Reede said quickly. “That’s an almost major highway, and we get a lot of tourists in this area.” He wiped sweat from his brow.
“You’re probably right,” Sophie said. “If the jerk lives in Edilean I’m sure someone would have told me about him. I did put on a rather public show when I poured beer over his head.”