Vivian smiled, stared straight in his eyes and lowered her voice. “What if I told you there was no book but the whole thing was really possible in real life, only the doctor doesn’t have to do anything we talked about except tell her she’s pregnant and everything else would be taken care of for him?”
He stared right back at her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“What if you were that doctor?”
He rose and set the clipboard on the counter. “I sure wouldn’t do anything like that, and I can’t imagine anybody else doing anything like that either.”
Vivian also rose. ”But you just told me it was possible. What if you had a half million reasons and nobody could tie you to any of it?”
“Yeah. Right. Good luck with that. I’ve got to go see some other patients now.”
Vivian handed him a slip of paper. “If you change your mind, here’s my number. No need to go to the police. It’s a disposable phone.”
Dr. Gravely wadded the paper and threw it in the trash. He mumbled something inaudible as he left the room.
Alone again, Vivian looked at the not-so-clever woman in the mirror. Then she hurried to get dressed and let herself out without paying her bill.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Paradoxically, Mac was both too busy and too lonely at the same time. Originally, he’d reasoned that he could withstand a few months poking Rachel by night as long as he could be with Miranda by day. But he hadn’t thought it through well enough. Rachel also had the weekends off and he had to spend them with her. Then Miranda made things more difficult when she demanded to have all Thursday mornings off so she could do “girly stuff,” as she’d put it.
About all Mac could do while he waited for Thursday afternoon to roll around was hang out with Annie, like in the good old days. “I guess he damn near threw her out,” Mac said, referring to the gynecologist.
“So what are you going to do, now?” Annie almost asked.
Mac grinned. “One thing I can say for Miranda. She’s a thorough thinker. Doesn’t give up easily either. She’s planning on setting up a midwife’s office.”
“Does she know a midwife?”
“She knows what they do, at least she says she does. She rented some space and has a lead for some used equipment and furniture from a chiropractor.”
“You have to admire somebody who would do all of that for her disabled brother.”
Mac nodded. “That’s another reason I lo—“ He caught himself in mid-sentence and scooted down an alley. “When I’m with Rachel time seems to stop. With Miranda, it’s the opposite. Can’t get enough of her.”
“I’d marry Rachel myself if I could get high-riser handlebars with some sexy pink tassels out of the deal.”
Max laughed, pulled into the bowling alley. “Cecil will have the bar area operating by now.”
“Beer for breakfast?”
“Gotta kill a couple hours, Annie.”
Inside, there was more activity and chaos than on previous Thursdays. A quick scan of the lanes revealed a white cane with a red tip leaning against a bench and others just like it near the lanes on the far end. Sighted people were helping blind people, mostly teens. Some of them were smiling and laughing. It was the kind of reminder Mac needed.
While he was buzzing around in the sunshine, juggling two women and in the process of snagging a mill or two, other people had to deal with real challenges. Permanent ones. He made his way to the bar area and grabbed a stool where he could watch the group. The bartender automatically plopped a draft beer in front of him. “Must be Thursday,” he said.
“You got me figured out, Cecil,” Mac said. “What’s going on?”
“The bosses cut a deal with a School for the Blind. Twelve weeks at half-price.”
“Oh, really? That’s nice.” Mac washed down a slug of beer just as one of the blind guys sent a ball flying rather quickly down the lane before several pins plunked into each other. “Ooh, yeah!” he yelled out.
“That one’s a marine,” Cecil said.” Got blinded in Iraq.”
Mac nodded. “Gotta admire guys like that. You say they’re going to be regulars?”
“For a few months anyway. After that, who knows?”
Mac sipped at his beer and watched one of the girls throw a gutter ball. “Do you think they could use some help?”
* * *
“Hi, Sweets,” Miranda said as she wrapped her arms around Mac’s neck. She’d just gotten back from her weekly visit with Don. Mac’s arms felt more natural than part of her would have liked. “Sleep well last night?”
“Not really,” he said as he glanced around her living room. “I prefer to be with you.”
Miranda smiled, lifted his chin. “Me, too. But we still get together every day while she thinks you’re at work. That’s the important thing.”
“Every day except weekends and Thursday mornings and holidays and whenever you want to vacuum.”
The regret and tenderness in his tone was the kind of thing that made her doubt Don’s repeated warnings about Mac. Either Don misread his brother or made it all up so she wouldn’t fall for Mac. “You always know what to say to make a girl feel good.”
Her eyes widened. She reached in her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Here’s your allowance.”
“I hate taking money from you.”
“I know, but it has to appear like you have some spending money.” She reached out and touched his nose. “Besides, you’re going to help me get it all back. If we’re lucky there might even be some left over for us to go on one of those long bike rides you talk about.”
He pinched the envelope. “It’s thicker than usual.”
She tapped his arm. “There’s a car show coming up. I got you some tickets so you can take Rachel and some of her students. We gotta keep her happy and hanging in there.” Miranda brushed a strand of hair from her eye. “Speaking of Rachel, did you change her cell phone like we talked about?”
”Yep. I substituted your burner number for her gynecologist’s. I just hope she doesn’t notice the difference.”
“Not likely. It’s not a call she’d make very often. While we’re on the topic, I bought those exam tables we talked about. Movers are loading them into our new medical space as we speak. Can you help me straighten everything up tomorrow?”
“Glad to have something to do.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you remember all these details.”
“That’s what I do with my time when you’re not here, Sweets. She tugged on the bottom of his shirt. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.” She nudged him toward her bedroom.
Mac grinned and followed her. “You’ll never guess what happened at the bowling alley today. There were a bunch of blind people having a good time. They’re going to be back on Thursdays for a while so I volunteered to help out. We should take Mickey bowling sometime.”
There was that tenderness again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
There were just a couple weeks of summer break left. Uncle Dirk was at work and Aunt Gerry was doing volunteer work at her church. That left Stump and Willie free to get to the bank in search of a birth certificate.
With the little red envelope and its weird key tucked in Stump’s pocket, they were out the door by eight-thirty. Their run/walk technique was needed because the bank was several miles away along the canal where there were only a few cross-streets.
They were into their third cycle when they came to a home with a moving van out front. As they approached the back of the big truck a young fellow, about their age, emerged carrying dumbbells. The guy yelled back into the storage compartment, “Hey dad, some neighbors came by to help us.” He turned toward Stump and Willie. “That’s why you’re here, right?”
Stump smiled. “Not really, but we thought we’d welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Stump.” He flipped a thumb his cousin’s way. “This is Willie.”
The kid set his dumbbells down. “
My name’s Richard Dick,” he said with an extra-wide grin that begged for a comeback.
“A double Dick?” Willie said, falling for it.
The guy smiled just as his dad came forward and joined the fray. “You’ll never guess his brother’s name.”
Stump wasn’t sure if they were serious, but it seemed okay to go along with the momentum. “Is it Peter?”
“Right-o,” Richard said. “Have you ever pricked your finger?”
“Or fingered your prick,” both Richard and his dad said in unison. It was obvious they’d used that line before. Stump realized the potty-mouth was a means of bonding with them. All sorts of guys talked like that, but he’d never heard a dad get into it. It was sorta cool though. Instead of the old dude bossing his kid around, he played harmless word games with him. Stump would gladly accept a dad like that. “I bet you have a wiener dog and a pussy cat,” he added.
“Did you know that a titmouse is actually a bird?” Willie said.
Stump shook his head. “That one’s pretty lame, Dude.”
“Why? It has double meaning too.”
“We were sniffing around crotches, not boobies.”
They all laughed at Stump’s spontaneous crotch pun. “My real name is Richard Barnes. You can imagine how many times I’ve heard the word dick.”
Stump nodded. “How old are you?” he asked, already considering Richard to be his new friend.
“Almost fourteen. You?”
“Same.” Stump flipped the thumb toward Willie. “He’s only twelve. Are you going to be in 9th grade?”
“Yeah. You want to show me around?”
“Rad. Maybe we’ll be in the same class. Just don’t get Mrs. Swalling. We call her Swallow.”
“Wicked,” Richard said with the same ornery grin as before.
Stump liked Richard and his father immediately. “Hey, we’re going to Palmdale Bank. It’s a few miles away but we run a block then walk a block to get there faster. You want to come with us?”
Both Richard and Stump looked at Richard’s dad, who was already shaking his head slowly back and forth. Apparently he still had some adult qualities inside him.
“Better not,” Richard said, “but I’d like to get together after our things are unloaded. Like tomorrow. You can tell me more about the teachers. You got a cell phone?”
“I got one,” Willie said, excited to be of value again.
They traded numbers and then Stump had another idea. “We could probably help you guys for a half-hour.” He glanced at Willie, who seemed disappointed but agreed anyway.
“That’d be wicked cool,” Richard replied.
A little over an hour later Stump and Willie ran/walked their tired butts all the way into the lobby of Palmdale Bank. “We need to get into our safe deposit box,” Stump told the receptionist as he tried to regain his wind.
“Is your mother or father with you?”
Stump was ready for the roadblock. “No, but it’s in my mom’s name. Here’s the key. And a note. She asked me to get something out of it for her.”
The lady looked over the key and the note. “You guys have a seat over there by the windows. I’ll tell Mr. Osborne you’re waiting.”
“See, Dude,” Willie said as they waddled to the waiting area. “Those keys are important. You might own a bunch of cool things you never even knew about.”
“I dunno, Dude. That lady didn’t act right. Besides, I’d settle for a birth certificate or anything else that tells me who my dad is.”
“Hello, gentlemen,” a friendly voice came from off to their left. “I’m Bob Osborne, vice president. I can help you in my office.”
Stump and Willie nudged each other as they followed ‘the vice-president’ whose wrinkled white shirt contrasted with his near-perfect haircut. Probably single, Stump thought. In the office, Stump and Willie sat in twin chairs across from Mr. Osborne’s desk. “So let me see if I understand,” Osborne said. “Can I see that key of yours?” Stump nodded and handed it over.
Mr. Osborne pointed his jaw toward his computer monitor. “First off, I don’t see your mother’s name in our data base. Are you sure she’s one of our customers?”
“She might have used her other name,” Stump offered.
“That’s possible. What is it?”
This wasn’t going well. “I’m not really sure.”
”Not sure?”
“I hoped you might have it.”
Osborne looked down his nose. “We wouldn’t have any way of knowing that unless she told us.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Willie asked. “We need to get into that box.”
The banker hesitated a moment. Then, “Okay, guys. I’m going to level with you. We haven’t used this type of key in four years, before we remodeled and got a new system. Everybody got new boxes and new keys.”
“What about the things that were in his mother’s box?” Willie asked. “Did you save them?”
Osborne’s brows packed down to the top of his nose. “I’m afraid not. Banks operate under strict rules. We gave everybody written notice that we were changing systems. There were only a few people who didn’t exchange keys. They were notified by certified letter.” He leaned forward as if he was going to share a secret. “If you want to know my best guess, I’d say your mom once had one of our boxes, but lost this key. Somewhere along the way she cleared out the box and let her lease expire. Happens all the time.” He slid the key back into the red envelope. “There’s something else,” he said, setting the envelope down. “You’re lucky we don’t call the cops.”
The boys’ heads bounced back and forth as if they were riding bumper cars. The banker held up the note that Stump said his mom wrote. “No adult would expect us to accept a note like this. Forgery is a serious crime, you know.”
Stump’s stomach felt like he’d just swallowed a large ice cube.
“That’s not all. You were also about to commit wrongful entry and fraud. You ever heard of a felony?”
Stump turned his head toward the exit doors. He wasn’t sure about Willie, but he could get there in a few seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Don had always told Miranda that Mac was not to be trusted, but she’d experienced the exact opposite. He’d already made some incredible sacrifices to help Mickey. He also did nice things for the kids at Rachel’s school and volunteered to help blind people at the bowling alley. It didn’t add up.
She already knew what Mac thought of her, but today would be an excellent opportunity to turn the page over and find out how she really felt about Mac, down deep where her long-trusted instincts took over. She’d be ugly. Would he still appreciate her without the glitter? She donned some blue jeans and an old blouse, pulled her hair back, and skipped the bulk of her makeup.
At eight-thirty, Mac coasted into her garage and parked. Almost immediately she joined him. “Morning, Sweets. You’re punctual today.”
Mac looked her over and pulled her close. His kiss was passionate and sincere. She wanted to moan, but she restrained herself. “You even look hot in work clothes,” he said softly.
Hence his nickname. She smiled. “Thank you, Sweets.” She held out her keys. “You drive.”
“Did the movers finish up?” he asked, hitting the garage remote.
“They said they did. Apparently the chiropractor even threw in some decorations and supplies. All we have to do is move everything around so the place looks genuine.”
Mac hit the blinker and exited the highway. “Are you sure chiropractor tables will work? That’s a different specialty.”
“Two are no good for us, but the other one is perfect. I had to buy them all to get the one I wanted.”
Mac swung the SUV around a corner. “You think of everything.”
After they arrived, they walked hand-in-hand toward the entrance. “Medical buildings are so formal,” he said, massaging the scars on his knuckles. “I’m amazed you were able to get a three-month lease.”
> “It’s the economy, Sweets. They have lots of vacancies.” She snickered. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the manager stuffed my cash in his own pocket and never sent it to his home office.”
Inside the lobby, granite walls and brass trim created an atmosphere that any good midwife would be proud of. Miranda’s nostrils instantly caught the potent scents of medicine and cleaning products.
They made their way to the building directory. “Cool,” Mac said, looking near the bottom. “They got your name in there: Vivian Sanders, Midwife.”
An elevator ride was followed by brief walk down a classy hallway. Then a twist of a key and a flick of a brass door handle allowed access to Suite 303. “Wow, this furniture looks great in here,” Mac said. “You can barely tell it’s used.”
Miranda smiled. “I told you it would all work out, Sweets.”
They strolled around, looking in boxes of supplies and decorations as well as file cabinets. Ultimately Mac entered one of the exam rooms. “Crap,” he yelped, “This isn’t going to work.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. “Why not?” she asked, hurrying toward the room.
He pointed at the end of the exam table. “This damn table doesn’t have those stirrup things.” His arms flailed as he spun halfway around. “I knew it was a mistake to buy out a chiropractor. They don’t use stirrups. What the hell are we going to do without those stirrup things?”
Miranda rolled her eyes, laughing. “Fear not, my friend.” She nudged him out of the way, reached down to the side of the table and grabbed a jumbled collection of chrome parts that were tucked neatly into a built-in cubbyhole. Two quick tugs and a gentle twist brought the stirrups into position. She grinned right at him. “Do you want to try them out yourself, just to be certain?”
A flush of red washed across Mac’s face. “How the hell was I supposed to know?”
“You know something?” Miranda chuckled, kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a lot of fun, sometimes.”
He pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead, and blew out an exaggerated breath of relief. “Now it looks like all we have to do is organize the place a little bit.”
“Before we do that,” Miranda said, holding up a syringe, “I’ve got to practice drawing your blood.”
Mac curled his lip. “I gotta build up my nerves for that one. Mind if we straighten up first?”