The Alphabet of Love Ch. 03

I forgot all about my would-be suitor on Saturday. We were consumed with birthday party plans, cake baking, and herding all the little kids. Mainly I hoped that no one in my family had heard I was in town. One of Tila's pre-school friends' mothers worked at the same clinic as my Mom but I didn't know if they were very well acquainted. I hoped not.

I'd been careful not to say anything about coming to Wenatchee on Facebook but when I did a status update in the afternoon, before all the kids showed up, I didn't notice that it tagged me in Wenatchee. Fucking GPS. After the kids had gone and Isabel and I were drinking wine, I looked at my phone and saw a text message from my Dad. He told me I should come over to his place for dinner, they wanted to see me.

Sure they did, I thought, after I'd edited that status from earlier to remove the location. I hoped to hell my Mom or other step-siblings hadn't seen it. My Dad, thankfully, never asked me for money, but he was extremely nosy about my life, and seemed to think all my success was due to him in spite of the fact that he, like my Mom, had done nothing to help me get through medical school. He probably had some friends coming over later and he wanted to parade his daughter the doctor for them. I was like a dancing bear, I thought. Look at me, I made this girl, she's a doctor. I'm something. My Dad had only shown interest in me when I graduated from medical school.

I texted him back that I had plans while I was in town and that I had to leave early on Sunday. That was a lie; I planned to stay until late afternoon. But he didn't have to know that.

"Hey!" Isabel called to me from her bedroom, where she was changing her shirt. She'd smeared birthday cake all over it while serving to the hordes of kids. Well, there were only five of them, but it felt like a horde. "How about we go out tonight?"

"I don't know," I said. "My Dad found out I'm in town and wants me to come over tonight. I'd rather no one he knows sees me."

"Fuck him," she said, joining me in the living room as she buttoned her blouse.

Yeah, I thought. Fuck him.

I borrowed some of her clothes and we dressed up sexy. I had no real idea where we thought we were going to go in Wenatchee; there were no nightclubs to speak of, but a couple of joints boasted dance floors and live local bands. I figured after a drink or two I wouldn't care if anyone in my family saw me or not.

Isabel drove her car so told me she'd go light on the alcohol and that I should indulge all I wanted. As much as I would like to, I knew I had to drive home the next day, and if Mr. Brooks was still in the hospital Monday, I'd have another early morning and long, long day.

At our first stop, a lively brew pub with a rock cover band, we were disappointed to see the crowd was mainly twenty-somethings. She and I were older; we talked about cradle-robbing and sat giggling together making up sex scenarios with all the hot young guys. It surprised me that there were this many hot young guys in podunk Wenatchee. Still, none of them compared to the utterly incomparable sexiness of Dr. Trevor Banks. That smile. Those eyes. I'd seen photos of his father, the former Governor of Idaho, and it was clear that he got his looks from him. For a middle-aged man. Governor Banks was still hotter than hell.

I checked my phone once in a while; half hoping Trevor might text me with an update. He was probably off work by now. It was nearly ten. His wife was probably home, they were probably having sex. Ugh. I hated that thought. After my second drink and another look at my phone, I cavalierly pulled up his name (I'd put him in as a contact after he called me) and texted him to ask how Mr. Brooks was doing. It was dumb. Obviously the man's condition hadn't changed; he wouldn't have the second surgery until at least tomorrow. It had to be plain that I was texting solely to have an excuse to make contact.

An hour later, Isabel and I had moved to a different bar, this one with a duo playing more sedate, folky music. We'd just got our first drinks and sat at a table when I heard my phone. I'd forgotten about texting Trevor. My head felt a little fuzzy; I hoped it wasn't any of my family.

"He was okay when I left," was the message on my phone.

Huh? I thought stupidly. Then recalled that I'd texted Trevor. Oh shit.

"Who's that?" Isabel asked me as she checked her own phone. Her Mom was staying with Tila while we were out.

"Trevor," I said.

"He texted you again?" she looked up.

"Yeah," I said, not admitting that I'd texted him first.

I texted back to him: "Okay thanks."

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"Out with a friend," I responded.

"Guy?" he asked me.

"No." I felt seventeen. Or maybe fifteen.

"If you were in town I'd take you out," he texted.

"What would you tell your wife?" I challenged him.

"She's not here. In Boise."

Oh. Shit. I should have stayed in Seattle, I thought. God. What? That had to be the liquor talking.

"Oh," was all I texted back.

"You're really beautiful."

I stared at my phone.

"I hope I'm not creeping you out."

My hand hovered over the screen; I had no idea how to respond.

"You okay?" Isabel asked me.

I sipped my drink. "Yeah. I'm cool."

"You still there?" Trevor asked.

"Yes," I texted. Finally, something I could respond to without sounding like an ignoramus.

"Sorry. Just wanted to say that. Maybe I'll see you Monday. Mr. Brooks has surgery at two."

"You doing it?" I asked him.

"Yes Godfrey's assisting. Wants to watch me firsthand. Hope I don't get the shakes."

I smiled. "You'll be great. See you Monday."

"Okay," he texted.

"Are you still texting him?" Isabel finally realized what was going on.

"Nope," I said, flipping my phone over. "Done now."

"So when's the big seduction?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, I'll see him Monday," I said vaguely.

"Sex in an empty hospital room?"

"Hardly," I waved my hand.

"You hope he is."

"God! Isabel!"

She laughed. "Look at you! I haven't seen you this smitten with a guy in like forever!"

"I'm not!" I disagreed. "Let's get some nachos or something."

Before I could flag down a waitress, Isabel snatched my phone and held it up to me. "I'm gonna send him a picture of you. You look great tonight."

"NO!" I squealed.

People were looking at us.

"Smile pretty," she said, moving her hand around to keep me from grabbing my phone back. "Come on, Shy. Who gives a shit? He can delete it if he doesn't like it."

He'd said I was beautiful. Why not?

I knew I was drunk. I applied lipstick and fluffed up my hair a little, and struck a sexy pose, pulling down my top a little to reveal some of my ample cleavage.

"Yeah, that's it!" Isabel said, the camera flashing in her hand.

"Let me see it before you send it to him."

So she showed me. Damn. Some gorgeous blonde with big tits stared back at me. Before I could give the okay, Isabel tapped on my phone, a smirk on her face. "Sent!"

"Shit! I didn't say it was okay!"

"Too late," she handed back my phone. "I expect a text from him in three, two, one . . . "

Sure enough, my phone lit up.

"Wow!" was the message.

"My friend did that," I was quick to explain.

"I'm glad she did. Too bad I'm not there. You look fabulous. Call me when you're alone."

"I won't be."

"Then I'll talk to you Monday."

"Jesus," Isabel complained as I set my phone down. "You're spending more time with loverboy than you are with me."

"Sorry. I don't know what's going on. It's crazy."

"I say go for it."

I shook my head. "No more married men. Period."

"Uh huh."

"He wants me to call him."

"Ooh, a little cybersex," she shook her shoulders like a 'twenties flapper girl.

"Technically it would be phone sex," I corrected her.

She waved at me. "Hey if you want to get off with him, I'll leave you alone."

"Isabel!" I whispered loudly. "I can't believe you said that!"

She grinned.

I had to stop this right now. Trevor and I were professionals and it was up to me to be sure it stayed that way. Sexual attraction or not. For my next drink, I ordered Coke straight up. I had to get a grip on myself.

"Uh oh," I heard Isabel say, and when I looked toward where she was staring, I saw my half-sister Morwenna.

"Fuck," I said, slumping in my chair a little, pulling my hair over my face. "She didn't see me, did she?"

"I don't know," Isabel said, not looking in Morwenna's direction.

"There must be someone here selling meth or coke," I mused. "She wouldn't be here just for booze."

Isabel shrugged. "You can get that shit anywhere. She got a problem?"

"Big time," I nodded. "She's been kicked out of rehab three times. So I hear through the grapevine. My Mom would never tell me. Her babies can do no wrong, you know."

Morwenna was in my line of sight but not looking my way. She'd lost weight since I'd last seen her. Tall, slender, her blonde hair hung lanky, unhealthy. Maybe even unwashed. Her sweater and jeans looked none too clean, either. She held hands with an even more sloppy-looking man with a shady goatee and a stupid fedora.

"You should buy her a drink," Isabel suggested facetiously.

"I'm trying to scope out an escape route."

"What can she do?"

"Make a scene. Beg me for money, act like I owe it to her. Tell my mother I'm in town. You want to hear some text message notifications? Yeah. Let that happen."

"Block her," Isabel said simply.

"I've done that before. When dipshit Adrian's girlfriend got pregnant she wanted me to pony up for the medical expenses. I was like, what are you talking about? I didn't get the slut pregnant. She acts like I owe it to them. God, it pisses me off."

Isabel nodded. "I know. Sorry. If you want, we could go around the outside there," she pointed to the far side of the room, "and get to the door. It'd be so dark she'd never recognize you."

"Let's do it," I said. I threw some cash on the table to cover our drinks (we never did get nachos), and the two of us skulked around the outer edges of the bar. We'd almost made it to the door when I heard my name called out.

There was no mistaking 'Shiloh' for anything else. With a sick feeling of dread, I turned to see my fate.

"Hey," Morwenna walked toward me, leaving her boyfriend at the bar, relaxing on his elbow, watching.

"Oh, hi," I said, acting casual.

"What's up? You're not leaving, are you?" she asked, looking between me and Isabel.

"Yeah," I said, faking a yawn. "I have to head back to Seattle early in the morning."

"I didn't even know you were in town."

"It was kind of a last minute thing," I lied.

She nodded. "Buy me a drink?"

I knew it. I fished a ten dollar bill out of my purse and handed it to her. "That's all the cash I have."

"Thanks," she wadded it up in her fist. "I'll tell Mom I saw you. She wishes you'd call more often."

I bet she does, I thought. "Tell her hi for me. I'll try to see her next time I get over this way." Unless I can get out of it.

"Okay," Morwenna stood there, looking me over, almost as if to see if any stray cash was attached to my clothing. "You sure this is all you have?" she waved the now crumpled ten at me.

"That's it," I assured her.

"What about you?" she asked Isabel, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Fresh out," Isabel shook her head. "We blew it all."

Morwenna sighed and nodded. "See you later, then."

"'Bye," I called as I headed for the door. There was to be no hesitation.

Isabel was on my heels.

Out in the cool night air we both laughed as she opened up the car.

"I got off pretty cheap," I said, flopping into the passenger seat.

"Yeah, you could tell she was jonesing. I wonder what she's on."

"Meth or coke, last I knew," I said. "Did I tell you she asked me to write her a script for oxys last time I was here?"

"Seriously?" she started up the car.

I nodded. "I told her hell to the NO. She got all pissy with me and bitched to Mom. Mom told me I could do it one time and no one would know. Can you believe that?"

"I thought your Mom was a nurse."

"Supposedly. I told her to go fuck herself."

"You didn't!"

I nodded. "I sure as hell did. Ridiculous. She's the reason that twerp is a junkie to begin with. Mom coddled her from the time she was born. I think she secretly wants both of them to be dependent on her forever because that's how she gets her self-esteem. She's like some big martyr, sacrificing herself for her children."

Isabel laughed. "Are you a kidney doctor or a shrink?"

"Maybe both," I laughed, too.

We agreed to stop at an all night diner for food. By the time we made it back to her place, I'd mostly sobered up. We said goodbye to Isabel's Mom and I changed for bed while Isabel got on her computer to check her email. I sat on the couch scrolling through Facebook and yawning. I looked at the photo Isabel had sent to Trevor. I looked just as good as I'd thought. What was a pretty blonde like that doing sending sexy pictures to some married man? Could I face Trevor again? Look at those boobs. No doubt he'd looked at them carefully. They were one of my best features, or so I'd been told. I spent good money on nice bras to lift them up and give them a pleasing shape. They say you should play up your assets.

"Put that on Facebook," Isabel said. She was standing over me, two wine glasses in her hands. "Have a nightcap."

I took it from her and sipped. "I'm afraid to put this picture on there," I told her. "I don't want my boss seeing it. I know it's my personal life, but I did sign a morality clause."

"No! Really?"

I nodded. "Of sorts. I mean, I can't get arrested for being a sex predator or anything like that or I'll lose my job. It's about ethics."

"What's unethical about that picture?" she wanted to know.

"These," I said, squeezing my boobs together.

"Oh please. You can't help what you've got."

"I try to keep them under wraps. I only show them to the deserving."

She laughed. "God, Shy, you need a man. How long has it been?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"All right. You get some sleep. I'll bake muffins in the morning."

I finished my wine as she shut off the lamp in the living room. Long after I scooted down into my bed on the couch I heard her puttering around in the kitchen, just before I finally fell asleep.