“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted them a half block away, his smile sociable but his steps smart.
“You’re turning in the wind like a weathervane, Doc.”
Martha’s eyes held him fast, slowed his step. “I’ve never known you to lose your way.” The old woman’s smile was as sharp as her gaze. “Or to admit it, at least.”
Martha’s daughter, Anna, looked apologetically at Brady, her eyes the same blue as her mother’s, only softer. “Now Dr. Spencer knows why all his other patients at Worthington House have high blood pressure.”
Brady continued to smile pleasantly, professionally. “I’m not lost,” he assured Martha. “Just on my way back to the hospital to catch up on some paperwork.”
Martha studied him. “You always were the most serious son.”
“I thought I was the most charming one,” Brady deadpanned.
The older woman folded her arms across her chest. “When are you going to settle down and get married like your brothers?”
“Mom!” Anna shook her head, the evening light blending the gray in her dark hair.
“What? No more single Spencer men in Tyler?” Brady smiled. “The place would become a ghost town.”
“No more single Spencer men in Tyler?” A glint had appeared in Martha’s blue eyes. “Are you telling me something I don’t know about your father and Lydia Perry?”
Brady eyed the elderly woman. “Is there something I should know about my father and Lydia? The Quilting Circle hasn’t started a new quilt, have they?”
Martha studied him as if trying to determine if he was teasing or serious.
“Brady, did Quinn and Molly tell you how much my grandson, Jeremy, adores Sara?” Anna diplomatically changed the subject. “They’re inseparable at Kaity’s Kids.”
Brady’s smile widened at the mention of his brother’s new wife and her daughter. “I agree with Jeremy one hundred percent. Sara is a charming child. Pure adorable.”
“And it won’t be long before Seth and Jenna will be bringing new little ones to the Spencer Sunday dinners, will it?”
Brady nodded. “Jenna is due in May.”
“Imagine, twins.” Anna shook her head again.
“Humph,” Martha sounded. “Elias will never be the same.”
Brady had to agree. Everything was changing. After many years, the somber Spencer family home stretching along Maple Street was again hearing the sound of children’s laughter, the song of women’s voices.
Martha’s gaze remained on Brady. “So, why aren’t you dating anyone, Doc?”
“I’m dating, Martha. As much and as many as I can.”
The old lady smiled slyly. “Spring is in the air, Brady Spencer.” She gestured toward the flowers displayed in The Garden of Eden’s front windows. “Good time to stop and smell the roses.”
He looked at the flowers in the soft light, thought of Eden’s thin, white hands arranging them until they were even more perfect. Past the shop windows it was dark except for the fish tank’s purplish glow and the low light from the cooler. Eden must’ve gone up to her apartment over the store for the night.
“Eden’s a good girl, isn’t she?” Martha asked. He stepped back from the window, but it was too late. His study of the store hadn’t gone unnoticed by the old woman.
He carefully composed his reply. “She seems like a nice person.”
Martha’s eyes narrowed. “You know her, don’t you?”
“Sure, everybody knows Eden.”
Martha tilted her head back, her gaze gaining new power. “She could be easy to overlook. She’s not flashy and noisy like some I’ve seen. She’s the kind of girl that lets a man hear the sound of his own breath.”
“Mom,” Anna interrupted, “we’re keeping the good doctor from his work.” She again smiled apologetically at Brady.
Martha’s gaze never left Brady. “I think I’ll keep an eye on you, Doc.”
Brady knew the elderly woman’s sharp tongue protected a soft heart. He knew because it was a tactic he himself had mastered. “If somebody’s got to, Martha, I’m glad it’s you.” He leaned over and kissed the woman’s cheek, felt the precarious thinness of flesh.
He stepped back, concealing his own surprise at his behavior. Martha touched her cheek, but snorted with indignation. “It should be someone with a lot fewer years and a lot more agreeable. Someone like—”
“C’mon, Mom.” Anna hooked her arm through her mother’s. “If we don’t get you back by bingo, the home will be calling in Deputy Cooper. Nice seeing you, Brady.”
“You too, Anna. Tell Johnny I said hello.”
“Can I tell him you said he should go easy on those onion rings when the Dairy King opens for the season next month?”
With relief, Brady returned to his professional role. “With his hiatal hernia, the chili dogs, too.”
Anna glanced at Martha. “And maybe egg substitutes and a little less bacon for Mom at those Sunday breakfasts at the diner? Her last blood workup showed her cholesterol was high.”
“Couldn’t hurt.” He looked at Martha. “No sense courting heart disease.”
“If you’re in such a big hurry to get me home, why are we still standing around here flapping our jaws?” Martha snapped at her daughter.
“No wonder he’s not settled down yet,” the old woman was still grumbling as she and Anna crossed to the square. “He’s too busy making sure the good citizens of Tyler live long, unhappy lives.”
Brady watched the women walk away. Even after they disappeared behind the oak trees, he stood, trying to figure out what had prompted his sudden show of affection. He wasn’t one given to spontaneous gestures…until lately. He shook his head. At times he didn’t understand himself anymore.
He looked up. The windows above the flower shop were covered with lace, the light past them tinted pearl-pink. He took a deep breath, swore he smelled heaven once more before he started toward the hospital.
The security guard glanced up as the double glass doors to the hospital’s main lobby slid open. The regular entrance to the brick annex where most of the doctors had their offices was locked after hours to save on security costs. The guard nodded at Brady. “Thought your day was done, Doc.”
Brady only had to say one word. “Paperwork.”
The guard nodded again. “The modern man’s burden.”
“You have a good evening now.” Brady headed down the corridor. His encounter with Martha had scared him off small talk for the night.
The hall was windowless, lit by fluorescent tubes in the ceiling that made shadows seem to disappear and turned faces hard. He said hello as he passed a cleaning lady. The floor was bland asphalt tiles. The walls were a faded mauve.
He turned into another, shorter hall that led to a tunnel connecting the smaller professional center to the hospital. At the tunnel’s end, he took the stairs to the second floor. He inserted his key card into the door and went into the empty waiting room. He passed reception, the records room, examining rooms, the offices of the other doctors in the practice before coming to his own. He unlocked the door, seeing the charts piled on top of the corner file cabinet. Several white lab jackets on wire hangers