Warshon savored the laugh sprouting from her lips like cherry blossom waking up to the zephyr of spring.
He didn't want to leave her alone in this office with a tome of manual instructions. She could well have done that at home. He took her here because selfishly, he wanted her nearby. Even if he didn't have the time to be in her presence, it was nice to know she was only a few doors away. And he didn't teach because he wanted to see how she would learn without help. If one could find a way to learn – as he had stumbled upon years ago – the learning itself would become a breeze, reflexive. After all, there was nothing more gratifying than relying on yourself to get your act together.
As he closed the door behind him, he took another glance back. If they were kindred spirits as he thought, she ought to be able to see his point. He turned his eyes to the front, front teeth grazing his bottom lip.
"Morning, Kayla," he said to the receptionist who had just arrived when he passed the foyer. "No one goes into my office."
Kayla Blair returned a smile. "As always, Doctor."
"When Mr. Garette arrives, send him directly to the patient preparation room."
"Will do."
"Last thing," His feet brought him to a halt. He whirled around to the front desk. "I have a girl in my office."
Kayla drew back her head, her brows elevating, a meaningful grin parting her lips. "Oh?"
"New apprentice, and also a patient for now," he added, not trying to explain where she misunderstood, which might not be a misunderstanding after all. "Let me know if she looks for me or if she needs anything."
The grin grew wider. "Sure."
Warshon nodded and proceeded to the operation room.
One after the other. By the time he finished seeing the last patient for the morning, he checked the time. That he still had forty minutes to tease Mira on her progress brought a smile to his lips.
"You seem you're in a good mood today, Doctor," said Mrs. Collins as she put on her coat.
"I am."
"Care to share your happiness?" she pursued as he walked her out. "You met someone?"
He laughed, his head tilting back.
"That's a yes." She waggled a hand as they came to the foyer. "Don't try to deny it."
"I don't." He pressed the elevator for her. "See you next month, Mrs. Collins."
When the door closed, he slid his hands into his pockets and turned. His laugh frosted in his eyes.
From the lounge chair in the waiting area, a woman rose to her feet. Her hair was tied back on the side in a loose chignon, her blouse a tight fit tucked into a matching skirt that flattered her curves. She turned her face around. In her teal eyes whispered a primordial yearning that was wild beyond wisdom and wise without pretense. Her beauty had not withered over their years apart, only decanted like wine, backdropped by the hollowed turquoise of the autumn sky after the storm.
"Hello, Warshon," she said. Spreading from the bow lips painted red, her smile faded halfway before reaching her eyes.
"Guiliana," he snorted. "I did mention to give me a heads up, didn't I?"
"I'm really sorry about that." She looked earnest, her voice guilt-ridden, like the last time they met. "But after I –"
"It's my fault," cut in the sturdy man sitting next to her. More haggard than Warshon remembered, Zahid Abid stood up and extended a hand. "Dr. Qusbecq, thank you so much for agreeing to take a look at my wife. And I'm really sorry I came right away after Quiliana gave me the permission."
Warshon resumed his diplomatic mien as he shook his calloused hand. His eyes flicked to the wife smiling meekly at him from the wheeling chair. A long sigh fled his lips. "This way."
In an empty treatment room, he frowned at the medical records Zahid brought.
"Sommer, can you lie down on the treatment table for me?" He turned to the wife, carrying the same smile he did for all his patients.
As the wife obliged, and Zahid helped her into position, Warshon adjusted the stethoscope and stooped to listen for cirrhotic ascites. He didn't like what he heard a bit. Turning to Guiliana, "Have you told them what I told you?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Well, call it the last ditch effort, are you willing to try herbs, Sommer?"
She shifted her eyes to her husband. "Do you think I should, honey?"
Zahid grabbed her sallow hand and put it to his lips. "Whatever you decide."
Sommer put the hand to her man's stubbled cheek. "Yes," she said, her eyes fixing on her man. "Yes, I'm willing to try."
"Excellent," Warshon nodded. "Wait here while I write the prescription, and Kayla, the young lady you saw at the front desk, will point you in the direction of the pharmacy." As he was done talking, he headed out.
"I need to speak with you, alone," Guiliana called him from behind.
"But I don't," Warshon replied as he continued preceding to the foyer. "Kayla, will you please hand me the tablet, the one we use for herb prescription?"
Kayla nodded, darting a furtive glance at Guiliana while she fulfilled his request.
"You'll regret it if you don't hear this, and I won't allow it, not this time." Guiliana walked past him and straight to his office.
"You showed her my office?" Warshon clipped, turning to Kayla, who shook her head and hands. "She asked where your office is. I pointed it out only to be polite but told her no one is allowed in."
Huffing a sigh, Warshon dashed after Guiliana. "Hold it right there, Guiliana!"
But she was headstrong like she'd always been.
"Guiliana!"
She stopped before the locked door. Tilting to the side, she raised her head, the corners of her lips tipping skyward while a tear rolled down her cheek. "What if I can open the door?" She tried the number – the day and month of their first date – the door unlocked with a welcoming click.
"Voilà."