services. Have you ever seen him? He’s so full of fire and emotion. I was tickled pink when I heard he was building a summer house on the river.”
“Right next door to me,” I mumbled.
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yep.”
“I suppose you heard about his heart attack.”
“He had a heart attack? When?”
“Why last night, dear girl. Really, Ally, you’ve got to start paying more attention to what goes on in your community.”
Maddie watched Swiggly strut across the stage. He ranted and raved. He praised God. He sang. He pounded his fist on the podium. He broke down into tears. He put on a pretty good show if you went in for that sort of thing.
The program ended at about the same time Maddie’s antibiotic treatment did. “Sweetie,” she said. “Could you get me my purse.”
“Sure.”
I brought her purse to her. It was almost threadbare, the pockets bulging with coupons and tissues and pictures of gap-toothed children from years gone by. She pulled out a checkbook.
I didn’t mean to be nosy but I was hovering around her chest closing up the subclavian catheter and I saw her making out a check to Reverend Swiggly for two hundred dollars. I couldn’t believe it. Miss Maddie lived on a teacher’s pension. She couldn’t afford that kind of tithe.
“Surely you’re not sending him that much money?” I asked. I looked around at Miss Maddie’s tiny abode andthought of the fortress Swiggly had built on the river. And that was just his summer home.
“Mind your own business, Allegheny Green,” she said in a polite, but firm tone.
“He’s a huckster, Maddie.”
“He gives me comfort, child. Now hush.”
Properly chastised, I gathered up my things and headed for the door.
“Will you drop this in the mail on your way out?” Maddie asked, sliding the check into an envelope and licking it closed.
“Sure, Maddie.” I sighed. “Whatever you want.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“G OT ANOTHER NEW PATIENT .” Joyce dropped the file on my desk and waddled toward the coffeemaker.
Somehow, I’d made it to Friday without any more excitement in my life. I paid the bills, did my daily stint at the gym and got a haircut. For some unknown reason, that had absolutely nothing to do with Sam Conahegg, I even had my hairdresser put some gold and auburn highlights in my mousy brown hair. I liked the change.
I even went grocery shopping and almost bumped into Conahegg. I was cruising down the frozen foods aisle and wheeled past a man with his head poked into the freezer. His cart was filled with artery-clogging junk. Frozen pizzas, French fried potatoes, fish sticks. Clearly, he needed someone to mother him whether he knew it or not. I shifted my gaze to the man.
And recognized the backside.
Conahegg.
I actually whispered, “Yikes” under my breath, took off at a dead run and managed to get around the corner of the aisle by the time I heard the freezer doors pop closed. I didn’t even finish my shopping, just went straight to the checkout counter. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t simply said hello and walked on. Maybe it was lingering embarrassment over the awkwardness at the gym. Or maybe it was because I’d had an overwhelming urge to make him a decent meal.
The deal was, I wasn’t sure how Conahegg felt about me. At times I was certain he was interested in me as a woman. I’d seen him perusing my body with fascination. But I also got other vibes from him and I’m not sure what it meant.
Since I’m being honest, let me say that I’ve been confused by what’s been happening in my life. My sister shooting people in the toe. My patient committing suicide by autoerotic asphyxiation. An unfriendly televangelist moving in right next door. My own inexplicable sexual awakenings. It was a lot to absorb in a week’s time.
And I’d become really dissatisfied with my life of late. I was tired of being everyone’s mama but I didn’t know how to act any differently. I kept telling myself that my
“Right next door to me,” I mumbled.
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yep.”
“I suppose you heard about his heart attack.”
“He had a heart attack? When?”
“Why last night, dear girl. Really, Ally, you’ve got to start paying more attention to what goes on in your community.”
Maddie watched Swiggly strut across the stage. He ranted and raved. He praised God. He sang. He pounded his fist on the podium. He broke down into tears. He put on a pretty good show if you went in for that sort of thing.
The program ended at about the same time Maddie’s antibiotic treatment did. “Sweetie,” she said. “Could you get me my purse.”
“Sure.”
I brought her purse to her. It was almost threadbare, the pockets bulging with coupons and tissues and pictures of gap-toothed children from years gone by. She pulled out a checkbook.
I didn’t mean to be nosy but I was hovering around her chest closing up the subclavian catheter and I saw her making out a check to Reverend Swiggly for two hundred dollars. I couldn’t believe it. Miss Maddie lived on a teacher’s pension. She couldn’t afford that kind of tithe.
“Surely you’re not sending him that much money?” I asked. I looked around at Miss Maddie’s tiny abode andthought of the fortress Swiggly had built on the river. And that was just his summer home.
“Mind your own business, Allegheny Green,” she said in a polite, but firm tone.
“He’s a huckster, Maddie.”
“He gives me comfort, child. Now hush.”
Properly chastised, I gathered up my things and headed for the door.
“Will you drop this in the mail on your way out?” Maddie asked, sliding the check into an envelope and licking it closed.
“Sure, Maddie.” I sighed. “Whatever you want.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“G OT ANOTHER NEW PATIENT .” Joyce dropped the file on my desk and waddled toward the coffeemaker.
Somehow, I’d made it to Friday without any more excitement in my life. I paid the bills, did my daily stint at the gym and got a haircut. For some unknown reason, that had absolutely nothing to do with Sam Conahegg, I even had my hairdresser put some gold and auburn highlights in my mousy brown hair. I liked the change.
I even went grocery shopping and almost bumped into Conahegg. I was cruising down the frozen foods aisle and wheeled past a man with his head poked into the freezer. His cart was filled with artery-clogging junk. Frozen pizzas, French fried potatoes, fish sticks. Clearly, he needed someone to mother him whether he knew it or not. I shifted my gaze to the man.
And recognized the backside.
Conahegg.
I actually whispered, “Yikes” under my breath, took off at a dead run and managed to get around the corner of the aisle by the time I heard the freezer doors pop closed. I didn’t even finish my shopping, just went straight to the checkout counter. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t simply said hello and walked on. Maybe it was lingering embarrassment over the awkwardness at the gym. Or maybe it was because I’d had an overwhelming urge to make him a decent meal.
The deal was, I wasn’t sure how Conahegg felt about me. At times I was certain he was interested in me as a woman. I’d seen him perusing my body with fascination. But I also got other vibes from him and I’m not sure what it meant.
Since I’m being honest, let me say that I’ve been confused by what’s been happening in my life. My sister shooting people in the toe. My patient committing suicide by autoerotic asphyxiation. An unfriendly televangelist moving in right next door. My own inexplicable sexual awakenings. It was a lot to absorb in a week’s time.
And I’d become really dissatisfied with my life of late. I was tired of being everyone’s mama but I didn’t know how to act any differently. I kept telling myself that my
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