Fools Rush in(76)

I swallowed and continued toward the parking lot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

AT THE CLINIC A FEW DAYS LATER, Jill informed me that we had a young woman with a chief complaint of “not feeling well.” She’d been waiting for a while, Jill said, and had asked for me specifically.

I glanced at the chart as I went into the exam room. There on the exam table was a rather beautiful young woman, tawny hair, tanned, lovely complexion. I checked the chart again. Jennifer Bianco, age twenty-three. “Hi, I’m Millie Barnes,” I said, extending my hand.

“I know who you are,” she said coolly.

“Have we met?” I asked.

“Actually, yes. And we have someone in common,” she said. “Joe Carpenter.”

“Oh. How do you know Joe?” I asked. A feeling of dread unfurled and flapped in my stomach.

“I used to sleep with him.” She looked at me steadily.

“Ah.” My cheeks began to burn.

“And now you are, aren’t you? I saw you at the baseball game the other night.”

“Well, Ms. Bianco, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re here at the clinic, and I have other patients to see. Do you have a medical problem I can help you with?” My neck felt stiff, my mouth like chalk.

“What if I said I had some disease, like gonorrhea or something? Or what if I said I was pregnant?”

“Do you think you are?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“No. I’m not, but I could be. Your boyfriend’s a slut, you know. And an ass**le, too.” Her voice was husky. She slipped off the exam table. “I thought you should know.” She stood in front of me with her fists on her hips, eyes bright with tears…not exactly angry but pretty damn intimidating.

“Listen, Jennifer, are you sure I can’t help you with anything?” I asked.

She sighed and looked away. “No. I’m fine. I don’t have anything, Dr. Barnes.” Somehow her calling me Dr. Barnes made me feel sad, as though I were so much older but still obviously clueless. “I just wanted to tell you that Joe sleeps around,” she continued. “He dumped me for no reason that I could see…. One day we were doing it in my grandmother’s attic, the next day he wouldn’t return my phone calls. When I finally tracked him down, he just acted like we had nothing serious, that it was just for fun.” Her voice cracked, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “But it was serious, to me, at least. So be careful.”

She stepped around me and opened the door, then turned and looked at me again. “You babysat for me once. When I was sleeping over my grandparents’ house. We colored, and you let me have ice cream before bed. I thought you were nice.” With that, she left.

Legs wobbling, I sat down on the exam table.

Jennifer Bianco. Her grandmother lived in my parents’ neighborhood. I had a vague memory of the night she’d mentioned, and now I remembered something else. Joe had fixed Mrs. Bianco’s back porch steps a few months ago. Apparently, while he’d been doing his good deed, he’d been doing Jennifer as well.

I knew I could, if I tried, rationalize this. I could find a way to justify Joe’s behavior. I could tell myself how different he was with me, because he was different. But somehow I couldn’t summon the energy. Seeing Jennifer in the flesh was different from thinking about Joe’s many past girlfriends.

When I got home that night, I called Joe and asked him to come over. He happily agreed. I made dinner, a simple pasta dish with vegetables that I had perfected, and we ate on the back deck. We didn’t talk much. Was it my imagination, I wondered as I picked at my dinner, or did we never really talk? We held hands, we flirted, we went out, we slept together, but did we talk? Weren’t soul mates supposed to talk? It seemed like Digger and I talked more than Joe and I.

“Joe,” I began cautiously. “Why do you think we’re, um, doing so well together?”

Joe looked at me, surprised. “I don’t know. I like you.” He grinned. “A lot.”

I gave a small smile. “I like you, too, obviously. But, well, you know, you’ve dated a lot, haven’t you? And you told me this was the longest you’d been in a relationship. Why do you think that is?”

Joe took a swig of his beer and looked out at the darkening sky. Digger came over and put his nose on Joe’s leg, and Joe scratched his head idly. “I don’t know, Millie. I guess I feel like you’re different.”

“In what way?” I asked.

“Oh, shit, Millie, I’m not really good at talking about stuff like this. Are you mad at me or something?”

I reached for his hand across the table. “No, Joe, I’m not mad. I’ve just been thinking about the two of us, that’s all. And we don’t really talk about stuff like this….”

“Talking can be overrated.” He gave me a crooked grin.

“Sometimes, definitely.” I smiled back but didn’t drop my gaze.

He sighed, then kissed my hand. “Okay, I’ll try. I guess I like how you don’t chase after me, Millie. I mean, we’ve known each other forever, but you were always just kind of friendly and normal to me. A lot of girls, you know, they kind of…throw themselves at me. And you didn’t. You weren’t out to get me, and you didn’t go crazy picking out wedding dresses when we started seeing each other. You have a great job and friends and you’ve got this funky little house and your dog…you just seem, I don’t know…happy with yourself. There, how’s that?”