“Been around for hundreds of years, but it’s cheap, and it works. And it’s what I was able to get the pharmaceutical companies to donate to me.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “That’s the way it works here, Justin. For the most part we get donated drugs, prescriptions that have gone over the expiration date but are still good, partial prescriptions that haven’t all been taken. And quinine worked just fine for us. But I used it along with Eula’s prescribed water and orange juice fast, along with warm-water cleanses. It all worked together, and who’s to say which was more effective—the natural remedy or the quinine, which is actually a natural remedy itself.”
“So what you’re telling me is that patience with the people here will be a virtue.”
“My husband always said patience is more than a virtue, it’s a necessity. But he was the most patient man to ever grace the earth.” She smiled fondly. “Which was good, because I’m not and I needed that counterbalance.”
“Then I say your husband deserves an award, because there aren’t too many patient people around.”
“He did deserve an award,” she said. “For a lot more than his patience. Landry was a good man. Maybe the best man I’ll ever know.”
She was speaking of him in the past tense, but Justin hated to ask, because if she was widowed, that was something he should have read on her application for working with his grandmother. Truth was, he’d hardly read past her name and credentials, he had been so impatient to hire someone. “And you’re not …” He glanced down at her wedding ring.
“Not moving on, like most people think I should. But I don’t have to. Landry can’t be replaced, and I don’t particularly want to.”
“How long?” he asked.
“A little over two years. Leonie was just a baby when he was diagnosed, and he didn’t get to stay with us very long after that. It was a pervasive pancreatic cancer. Took him almost before he knew he was sick. And you know what? If I’d known your grandmother then, I’d have been happy to give her herbal treatments a try, because I was desperate for anything. To try anything that might save him.”
“I’m so sorry,” Justin said.
“So am I, every day of my life. But thank you for the sentiment.”
“You’re raising your daughter by yourself?”
“Yes, but I have a supportive family—mother, father, six sisters. They’re so much help to me, and they love Leonie. You might have heard of my mother, actually. Zenobia.”
Justin blinked hard. “Seriously? Dr. Doucet is your mother? I’ve heard her lecture. She’s … extraordinary.”
“I think so. As a mother, anyway. As a doctor, I know she has her reputation, but I don’t pay much attention to that. So now, about Miss Willie …” Mellette pulled a small jar out of the pocket of her tan cargo pants and handed it to him. “I’d suggest you take this to her and try to make amends. I’m with you on getting her an anti-inflammatory prescription since I’ve been noting some gradual changes in her physicality, but in the year I’ve worked here she’s refused every time I’ve mentioned it. Maybe if you can get on her good side …”
He laughed out loud. “Do you really think that’s going to happen?”
“No. But I don’t believe in giving up.”
He tucked the jar of liniment into his pocket, then went back to the stove to stir the gumbo. “I’m serious about wanting you to add an extra day to your schedule here.”
“And I’m serious about not having the time. I work full time in emergency at New Hope, and between that and this, there’s no more time to give you. As it is, you’re getting my two days off from the hospital every week.”
“What about working here full time?” he asked, not sure where that had come from. Certainly, he could afford her. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Actually, I might.”
“You’d have to match, maybe even exceed my entire salary from the hospital, depending on how many hours you’d want me to work here, plus make up the difference for what you’re paying me when I’m here. And you’d have to cover my benefits—insurance, retirement plan, paid holiday. I’m a pretty well-paid specialist, Doctor, and I really don’t think I’m the solution for whatever you’re trying to accomplish.”
“What I’m trying to accomplish is to offer this community more medical care than they currently have. My grandmother loved these people, and taking care of them is what she would have wanted me to do.”
“Then stay and take care of them.”
“Not a chance.”
She smiled. “Eula said you were too good for the likes of Big Swamp. Although I think she secretly believed you’d come back to it someday.”
“I’m not too good for Big Swamp. I might have thought that at one time, but I grew up. But I do have a life that doesn’t include mosquitoes, muskrats and alligators, and it’s a life I enjoy.”
“I have a life I enjoy, too, and if I don’t get back to my patients, I’m not going to get home to that life tonight.” Mellette headed for the door, then spun around to face him before she went back to the room full of waiting patients. “Your grandma was proud of the work you do, Justin. My grandson, the real doctor, is what she always used to say. For what it’s worth, I don’t think she ever resented the fact that you chose the city over her.”
In the city … Yes, that was where he belonged. But lately he wasn’t sure why. In fact, the only thing he was sure of at the moment was that hiring Mellette had been one of the best things he’d done in a long, long time. Now all he had to do was convince her to take over here full time. Maybe then his guilty feelings would be assuaged. Or some of them.
The day went surprisingly fast, and while the patients weren’t flocking to Justin, the handful he did manage to see turned out to be a big help to her. So now Mellette could get out of Big Swamp before dark and make it back to Leonie before bedtime, for which she was eternally grateful. “You going to work again tomorrow?” she asked him, as she dipped a spoon into the gumbo that had been simmering for the better part of the day.
“If you want to call it working. I saw four people, and got rejected by four people.”
“But they gave you a chance, and that’s almost as good as them letting you treat them. Good gumbo, by the way. I think you inherited Eula’s cooking talents.”
“That was one of the things I always took for granted, I think. She had an amazing way in the kitchen that I didn’t appreciate until I was away from here, living on fast food and whatever else I could scrounge cheaply.”
“Well, if you should ever decide to give up medicine, I can definitely see you in a restaurant kitchen.”
“I’d invite you to stay, except I know you want to get back to your daughter.”
“And I might have taken you up on the offer, but you’re right. I need some time with her—don’t get enough of it.” Heading toward the door, she paused before she stepped outside. “Did you ever take that liniment to Miss Willie?” she asked. “Because if you didn’t, I’m betting now would be a good time. And I think she’d appreciate the gumbo, too. She doesn’t do much cooking for herself these days, and a nice, hearty meal would do her some good.”
“As much good as it would do me, getting into her good graces?”
“Every little bit helps,” she quipped. “Oh, and I think she probably likes her gumbo over rice.”
“Can you point me in the direction of her house?” he asked. “I