“Limoges,” Olivia corrected. And then, because this woman was about to stick a needle into her, tried to amend her answer so that it sounded more conversational. “It’s the same name as the French porcelain.”
The woman blinked at her and then smiled. “Oh, I’ve seen that stuff on
She opted for the table and sat on its edge. Pushing her sleeve up her arm, she waited for the woman to get to work, but she continued her recitation of her unique collection.
In order to stop the phlebotomist’s prattle, Olivia abruptly thrust the envelope containing her father’s blood into the woman’s free hand. “You need this more than I do,” she said and eased back against the cushioned headrest of the exam table.
Temporarily derailed, the woman checked her clipboard. “Paternity test, huh? You can sit in the chair, you know. The table’s for folks who don’t do well when they see the needle coming.”
“It’s not the needle, but I have a track record of wooziness when my blood is drawn,” Olivia admitted reluctantly. “I’d feel more comfortable on this contemporary fainting couch.”
“The what?” The woman asked but didn’t pursue the subject. Humming softly, she tied a rubber tourniquet around Olivia’s bicep and tapped on her skin a few inches below the tourniquet to make the vein swell.
Already feeling a bit clammy, Olivia looked away and tried to find an interesting focal point in the room but could only comfortably see a poster of the human circulatory system. She imagined the red and blue veins as highways on a road map. No matter which road one followed, the end would always be the metropolis of the heart.
Olivia did her best to study the body’s most significant muscle as the phlebotomist stuck her twice before finally hitting the vein. “There we go!” The blood must have filled a vial quickly, for after a brief moment of silence, the woman placed a cotton pad over the needle hole and then applied pressure over the small wound for several seconds. She then slapped a Hello Kitty bandage over the cotton and straightened.
“You just stay still for a bit,” the woman directed. “You’ve gone a bit pale.”
Grunting once in assent, Olivia closed her eyes. That was a mistake. She immediately felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Jerking her eyes open, she searched out the red and blue heart on the poster again, taking in deep breaths through her mouth. By the time the phlebotomist returned, Olivia was able to sit up.
“When will I get my results?”
The woman tidied up her work area, dropping the spent syringe into a biohazard box and putting the bandage wrappings in the trashcan. “They’ll probably take two days.”
Olivia didn’t care for this answer. “I thought results were completed within twenty-four hours. You’re talking about
Unperturbed, the woman opened the door and indicated that Olivia was free to leave. “We’re pretty backed up right now. Seems like everybody in the county has come down with shingles. You’ll just have to be patient.”
Pausing in the doorway, Olivia made it clear that she wasn’t going to follow the woman to the checkout area. “I need these results immediately. If those blood results are positive, it means that my father, whom I believed drowned thirty years ago, is alive. But he’s
The woman didn’t so much as flinch in the face of Olivia’s indignation. “We’ll do our best, ma’am,” was all she would say before walking up the hall to the waiting room. “Ms. Limoges is ready to check out,” she told the sourfaced receptionist, wished Olivia a good day, and called for the next patient.
Olivia received an instruction sheet on obtaining her lab results and marched out of the office, eager to vent her frustration. Seeing no nearby outlet, she returned Haviland’s boisterous greeting by hugging him around the neck. She then drove to a nearby sandwich shop to pick up lunch for herself and several slices of roast chicken breast for Haviland.
Keeping her promise to Haviland, she returned to the leash-free park. After serving him the chicken, Olivia stuffed salt and vinegar potato chips into her mouth without the slightest regard for ladylike delicacy. While Haviland frolicked under the afternoon sun, she consumed the entire bag, a tuna fish sandwich on whole wheat, and a dill pickle spear. With her hunger satiated and her frustration marginally relieved, Olivia looked at her watch and wondered what diversions could prevent her from obsessing over the lab results.
She called Laurel’s house but no one picked up. After leaving a brief message requesting that her friend get back to her as soon as possible, she threw out the empty potato chip bag and paper sandwich wrapper and dialed April Howard’s number.
“Are you and your portfolio free this afternoon?” she asked when April answered. “Can you meet me at Bagels’n’ Beans in an hour?”
“Yes. I don’t know if my appearance will look entirely professional, but I’ll be there. I need at least an hour to find my one decent suit and iron three years of wrinkles out of it.”
Listening to the fatigue in April’s voice, Olivia sought to ease the widow’s mind. “You’re only meeting with me, and frankly, I don’t care if you show up wearing pajamas. I’m serious, April. I’m your potential client and I don’t give a damn whether you’re in a suit and heels or sweats and sneakers. I just want to see your work and chat over a cup of coffee. Can someone look after your kids on such short notice?”
April issued a dry chuckle. “They’d love to get away from me for a few hours, trust me. I’ve been selfish to keep them close to me. When they’re around me, they feel guilty about playing or laughing at things on TV. My kids are better at grief than I am. They’re more resilient and more hopeful that they can be happy again one day.”
“I think it’s easier for them to put their feelings aside for periods of time,” Olivia agreed. “But they experience grief as deeply as you do. They just might not be able to express how it’s affecting them.”
“One day you’ll have to tell me how you know so much about this subject,” April answered. “But I’ll send the kids to Tina’s. She’s wanted them to come over for pizza for days and they could use a change of scenery. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Pleased, Olivia whistled for Haviland and set off for Bagels ’n’ Beans. When she reached the cafe an hour later, Wheeler was in the process of handing over the reins to a pair of high school students.
When he saw Olivia, he stopped and pointed at her arm. “You givin’ your blood away, ’cause I could use a fresh supply. Mine feels like it’s movin’ slower and slower through these droopy ol’ veins.”
Olivia dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. “That’s total nonsense. You’ll outlive us all.” She placed her drink order and then smiled at the feisty octogenarian. “Where are you off to now?”
Wheeler grinned. “I got a date. First one in a decade too. Her name’s Esther. I met her on the computer.”
Olivia couldn’t mask her disbelief. “You’re cyber-dating?”
“When it comes to women, I’m better at writin’ than talkin’.” He shrugged. “I just hope she looks like her picture. She’s a dead ringer for Betty White.” Wheeler stooped to pet Haviland and then strolled out the door, his jaunty step belonging to a man a quarter of his age.
“Betty White, huh?” Olivia laughed and settled back in her chair. Haviland curled up by her feet and closed his eyes, worn out from his exertions at the park.
Sipping her cappuccino, Olivia stared out the front window and felt a rush of affection for the town and its inhabitants. Somehow, just being back in Oyster Bay dissipated a fraction of her anxiety over the blood test results.
The bells hanging from the front door tinkled and April Howard walked in, a black portfolio case tucked under her arm. She spotted Olivia and made her way to the table, pausing to glance at the black-and-white photographs for sale on the wall above Olivia’s head.
“These are new,” she said. “Last time I was here there was a display of watercolor paintings.”
“Wheeler told me he couldn’t put up pieces of art fast enough during the Cardboard Regatta. Even with all the vendors selling comparable wares dockside, the tourists bought everything he had hanging on this wall.” Olivia studied the photographs of downtown, which had been taken during the busy season. She liked the movement captured within each shot—how the people on the sidewalk and the cars on the street appeared to be in motion
