report the bruise, maybe exaggerating it in the process, to Uncle Allen.
I must have appeared as distressed as Dr. Wrinklesides believed I was. He gave me an encouraging smile. “Time heals,” he boomed.
I wanted to skulk away with my face hidden, but I had to see who might have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Dr. Wrinklesides.
Three men sat in the waiting room. They could have been among the group who had witnessed my argument with Mike the day before, but they were unrecognizable, bundled in dark winter clothes with baseball caps pulled low over their eyes.
I fled out onto the streets of Elderberry Bay. In homes on both sides of the street, drapes had been pulled, keeping family warmth and light inside.
Behind me, a door slammed. Footsteps resounded on concrete. Someone was running from the doctor’s office.
Toward me.
10
F OR WHAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFETIME, BUT couldn’t have been more than a second, I froze. Maybe I could beat my pursuer to the nearest house, but I wouldn’t blame the homeowners if they kept their doors closed against impetuous strangers in the dark. I’d seen Susannah in a home down the block, too far away to reach before the person chasing me caught up.
Maybe I could dodge whoever it was and return to Dr. Wrinklesides’s office. Fists clenched inside my mittens, I whirled to face my pursuer.
It was Dr. Eaversleigh.
I must have looked very fierce. She stopped running, well beyond my reach. I casually stuck my hands in my pockets.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I caught my breath. “Sure.”
Despite her wild sprint, she didn’t seem the least bit winded. “You looked unhappy when you left,” she hinted. “And you’re not registered with us as a patient. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “If this is the way you’re going to run your practice, you won’t be able to spend much time in your office.”
She grinned. “Run would be the word for it, wouldn’t it? Listen, don’t be worried. Dr. Wrinklesides might not seem like any doctor you’ve ever met, but he’s a legend, always high on lists of the best doctors in Pennsylvania. Everyone sang his praises in med school. He knows what he’s doing. I’m really excited about being the first doctor ever invited into his practice.”
“How long have you worked with him?”
“Since Monday. I’ll be here whenever you need me. Dr. Wrinklesides will be, too.
“Isn’t he a little . . . past retirement age?”
She hugged her coat around her. “Retirement is not in his vocabulary. Being a doctor is his whole life. That and opera.” She cocked her head as if she could hear him singing. “I’d better get back.” With a cheery wave, she ran toward the clinic.
On Cayuga Avenue, Pier 42 was filled with light and laughter. At the foot of Lake Street, lake and sky merged at the horizon, a vast and awesome space that rested my eyes and calmed some of my anxieties. I turned toward home. The new restaurant and the papered-over store beside it were dark. Lights were still on in Naomi’s apartment above Batty About Quilts.
A couple of black pickup trucks were parked in front of The Ironmonger. Could one of them have been the one Uncle Allen and I had seen last night? Between advertisements in Sam’s windows, I made out old-timers clustered around the stove.
Had Sam heard anything that had gone on in my backyard last night or early this morning? As far as I could tell, he lived above the hardware store. When I first moved in, I had peeked through my cedar hedges into his backyard and had not seen a door to his basement, so I didn’t think his apartment was below his shop like mine was, and Mike’s attacker could not have come from or fled to Sam’s basement.
Beyond In Stitches, the General Store was similar to The Ironmonger, with an apartment above it, and as far as I’d seen through my hedges, no basement apartment or exit, either. I didn’t know anything about the store’s
I must have appeared as distressed as Dr. Wrinklesides believed I was. He gave me an encouraging smile. “Time heals,” he boomed.
I wanted to skulk away with my face hidden, but I had to see who might have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Dr. Wrinklesides.
Three men sat in the waiting room. They could have been among the group who had witnessed my argument with Mike the day before, but they were unrecognizable, bundled in dark winter clothes with baseball caps pulled low over their eyes.
I fled out onto the streets of Elderberry Bay. In homes on both sides of the street, drapes had been pulled, keeping family warmth and light inside.
Behind me, a door slammed. Footsteps resounded on concrete. Someone was running from the doctor’s office.
Toward me.
10
F OR WHAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFETIME, BUT couldn’t have been more than a second, I froze. Maybe I could beat my pursuer to the nearest house, but I wouldn’t blame the homeowners if they kept their doors closed against impetuous strangers in the dark. I’d seen Susannah in a home down the block, too far away to reach before the person chasing me caught up.
Maybe I could dodge whoever it was and return to Dr. Wrinklesides’s office. Fists clenched inside my mittens, I whirled to face my pursuer.
It was Dr. Eaversleigh.
I must have looked very fierce. She stopped running, well beyond my reach. I casually stuck my hands in my pockets.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I caught my breath. “Sure.”
Despite her wild sprint, she didn’t seem the least bit winded. “You looked unhappy when you left,” she hinted. “And you’re not registered with us as a patient. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “If this is the way you’re going to run your practice, you won’t be able to spend much time in your office.”
She grinned. “Run would be the word for it, wouldn’t it? Listen, don’t be worried. Dr. Wrinklesides might not seem like any doctor you’ve ever met, but he’s a legend, always high on lists of the best doctors in Pennsylvania. Everyone sang his praises in med school. He knows what he’s doing. I’m really excited about being the first doctor ever invited into his practice.”
“How long have you worked with him?”
“Since Monday. I’ll be here whenever you need me. Dr. Wrinklesides will be, too.
“Isn’t he a little . . . past retirement age?”
She hugged her coat around her. “Retirement is not in his vocabulary. Being a doctor is his whole life. That and opera.” She cocked her head as if she could hear him singing. “I’d better get back.” With a cheery wave, she ran toward the clinic.
On Cayuga Avenue, Pier 42 was filled with light and laughter. At the foot of Lake Street, lake and sky merged at the horizon, a vast and awesome space that rested my eyes and calmed some of my anxieties. I turned toward home. The new restaurant and the papered-over store beside it were dark. Lights were still on in Naomi’s apartment above Batty About Quilts.
A couple of black pickup trucks were parked in front of The Ironmonger. Could one of them have been the one Uncle Allen and I had seen last night? Between advertisements in Sam’s windows, I made out old-timers clustered around the stove.
Had Sam heard anything that had gone on in my backyard last night or early this morning? As far as I could tell, he lived above the hardware store. When I first moved in, I had peeked through my cedar hedges into his backyard and had not seen a door to his basement, so I didn’t think his apartment was below his shop like mine was, and Mike’s attacker could not have come from or fled to Sam’s basement.
Beyond In Stitches, the General Store was similar to The Ironmonger, with an apartment above it, and as far as I’d seen through my hedges, no basement apartment or exit, either. I didn’t know anything about the store’s
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