The buzz of the office intercom awoke Veronica abruptly from her nap. Wearily rising from the sofa, she answered the call.
"Dr. Townsend. You have a patient waiting."
"Thank you. You can send them in," Veronica replied. She took a moment to smooth back her tussled hair before shifting through the files on her desk.
When the office door opened, Veronica stepped forward to greet her new patient. "Hello, you must be Serena Barrett. I'm Dr. Townsend. Veronica, if you prefer," she said, offering a handshake.
Serena eyed Veronica's outstretched hand, skeptically. Then reluctantly took it in a limp handshake.
"Have a seat," Veronica replied. She paused at the desk to pick up a file folder and then sat down herself. "I have to apologize in advance if I seem a little bit off today. I've been here at the hospital all night with my husband who's recovering from a stroke."
"I'm so sorry," Serena said, her voice cool and detached.
Veronica opened the folder and skimmed through the papers inside, "I'm just going to review your records . . . Barrett. Are you related to Cassandra Barrett?"
"Yes. She's my daughter."
"Oh, really?" Veronica said with interest. "I've met with her before. She and my stepdaughter know each other from school, I believe. How has she been?"
"Well," Serena replied, seeming to give the simple question much thought. "Very well."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it," Veronica wished she could say more about Cassandra, but she was bound to confidentiality. Instead she focused on the patient that was in her office. "So tell me how you've been doing? How are you adjusting to being back home?"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you that information sooner, Lawrence," Arthur spoke into the phone at the hospital's reception desk. "I hadn't said anything about it for Lucy's sake. But now that everything else has come out, I think this is the only way to save the company."
"Mr. Townsend!" a shrill voice called out. Arthur looked over to see an angry nurse approaching him. "You shouldn't be out of bed!"
"One moment," he said to the nurse and then spoke into the phone. "I've got to go now. You know what needs to be done. If you need anything from me, just call."
As soon as Arthur hung up the phone, his nurse helped him back into his wheelchair and wheeled him back to his room, despite his protests that he could manage on his own.
After he was back in bed, there was a quick rap on the door before Dr. Wilton walked in.
"Hello, Mr. Townsend," Edward greeted his patient in a cheerful, professional tone. "How are you feeling today?"
"What are you doing here?" Arthur glared at Dr. Wilton. "Where's my regular doctor?"
"He has the day off and I'm filling in for him."
Arthur sat up straighter and scooted back away from the doctor. "Oh, no you're not. Get someone else in here, because you're not laying a finger on me."
Edward exchanged confused looks with the nurse. "I'm sorry. Do you have a problem?" he asked slowly.
"Yes. I'd like to get out of here alive," Arthur replied. "Don't think I've forgotten, like everyone else, that my partner, Clifford Stuart, died under your negligent care."
Before Edward could recover from his shock of the accusation, Sally spoke up. "Mr. Townsend, I was the nurse on duty when Mr. Stuart died. I can tell you that Dr. Wilton was anything but negligent. He did everything in his power to save Mr. Stuart's life. His death was no fault of Dr. Wilton or anyone who works at this hospital."
"Thank you, nurse," Edward said coldly as he looked over Arthur's file. "Has Mr. Townsend been having any problems that you've noticed?"
"Aside from his difficult attitude?" Sally asked. When receiving a stern look, she answered, "No, doctor."
"Fine," Edward said, returning the file to its place. "Your regular doctor will be back tomorrow, Mr. Townsend, and I won't bother you anymore."
Edward turned and walked out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster. But when he stepped out into the hall and found himself face to face with Mrs. Townsend it found it very hard to maintain that composure.
"What were you doing in my husband's room?" Veronica asked accusingly. "You aren't the doctor in charge of his case and I don't want you anywhere near him."
"I'm just doing my job," he said sternly, his patience wearing thin. Before Veronica could say anything else, he pushed past her and retreated to his office, glad that his shift was nearly over.
Alma followed Vanessa into the restaurant. As Vanessa approached the podium, Alma looked at the elegant surroundings in awe. She had never been to such a fancy restaurant.
"It will be a few minutes until our table is ready," Vanessa said to her after speaking with the host. "It's a shame we couldn't convince your roommate to come with us. Bernice seems like a nice lady."
"She is, but she's not very friendly. I don't think she really likes going out . . ." As Alma finished speaking she happened to glance over at the bar. Seeing someone she thought she recognized, she forgot what she was saying and let her voice trail off.
Vanessa followed Alma's stare with her own eyes. "Do you know that man at the bar?"
"Yes. That's Dr. Wilton. He was Mother's physician," Alma replied coolly.
"Let's go over and say hello," Vanessa suggested. "I'd like to meet him."
Before Alma could protest, Vanessa was making her way across the room. Reluctantly she followed.
"Hello," Vanessa said, walking up behind Edward.
He turned, startled from his thoughts. Not recognizing Vanessa, he looked at her with confusion, but when he saw Alma, a slow smile crept across his face and he rose from the bar stool. "Hello."
"I'm Vanessa Summers," she greeted him with a handshake. "Mona May's daughter. Alma told me you were our mother's doctor, so I wanted to meet you."
Edward looked confused a moment, before he remembered that Mrs. May had a daughter that no one knew about until recently. "Oh, yes. It's nice to meet you."
"I'd love to talk with you some time about our mother, but I'm sure you're here with someone."
"Actually I'm on my own tonight."
"Then why don't you join us?"
Edward glanced over at Alma, who looked away shyly. "I'd like that."
"I'm glad you decided to join us, Dr. Wilton," Vanessa said warmly, once they had been seated and an extra chair had been brought over for the doctor. "I didn't get to meet my birth mother, so I'm always excited to meet anyone who did know her. I'm surprised Alma's put up with me after all of the questions I've asked about her."
"Alma would be the one to ask," Edward said affectionately. "She took excellent care of your mother for many years. I'm sure she knew her better than anyone."
Alma blushed at the praise and focused on the plate in front of her. "There was a lot I didn't know."
"Yes," Vanessa admitted. "But without you I wouldn't have known anything at all about her." She turned to Edward. "My adoptive parents and I haven't been close for years. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. They were wonderful when I was growing up, but we've since become estranged and I was an only child, so it's been nice to have family again."
"I take it you're not married?" Edward asked.
"I'm . . .recently divorced," Vanessa replied. "And after the way things turned out, I'm done with dating and done with men for good. I don't think I could ever fall in love again."
"Surely not," Edward said. "It may feel that way now, but I'm sure you'll get a second chance."
Vanessa smiled weakly, unconvinced. "Have you ever been married, Edward? You don't have to answer that if I'm getting too personal. I've gotten used to talking about other people's personal lives from my bartending days."
"No, it's fine. I've never been married. I almost was once, but it didn't work out."
"And there was no one else?"
"There was someone."
Vanessa noticed a brief glance pass between Alma and Edward. When an awkward silence fell over the table, she decided to change the subject, "Alma, how is school going?"
After dinner, Edward waited with Alma by the front door while Vanessa stopped by the ladies' room.
After an awkward, silent moment, Edward smiled. "This is familiar, isn't it?"
"Yes," Alma agreed.
"You look well."
"Thank you."
"Well," Edward said and took her hand in a farewell handshake. "It was nice seeing you again. Keep in touch, Alma."
"I will," she promised. As he started to turn away, she added, "We should do this again some time soon."
He paused and looked into her eyes, "Do you mean that?"
"I do," she replied firmly.
He grinned. "I'd like that very much. Shall I give you a call?"
"Yes."
"Ok, then. Goodnight," he hesitated, wanting to take her hand again or kiss her cheek. Instead he turned and started out the door, watching her as he walked out onto the sidewalk, his step much lighter than it had been when he came in.
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