UrgentCare

  Urgent

  By Laura & Christopher Cooper

  Published by:

  ALLROMANCE EDITION

  Urgent Care

  Copyright © 2014 by Christopher Cooper

  * Warning *

  All rights reserved under the international and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from another publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  License Notes

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  Table of Contents

  Urgent Care

  About the Author

  Other Books

  Urgent Care

  I pulled into the realtor’s parking lot at quarter till eleven. Only forty-five minutes late. Becky would be impressed.

  “Well good morning sunshine!” she said when I stumbled into her office and plopped with exaggeration into the chair across from her assistant earnestly. It’d been since Aunt Mildred’s funeral that I’d been back. And when was that, twelve years ago? It seemed like an awfully long time to be away from one’s homeland.

  “So how’s the devil’s daughter this morning? Don’t even try to lie and say you haven’t called to find out.” My sister could be a real pain in the ass sometimes - okay most of the time. But blood is blood after all, and she’s all I’ve got. Well, and the devil’s daughter of course.

  It was only when I exhaled deeply that I realized I’d been trying to hold as much of the salt air in my lungs for as long as possible. During the two hour drive I battled with no less than twenty near interstate turn arounds that tempted me to just go home. “The nurse said she was fine. Up at breakfast, and has already taken a shower. That’s good, right?” I asked.

  Becky shrugged, “Who knows? But if that’s all I had to do in a day I sure wouldn’t be looking for a way out of that scenario.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “I’m here to vacation, not relive my sucky ass personal life. Where’s my key woman?” It was a vain attempt to put on a cheerful face but my sister ran with it for my sake. She flung and envelope across her desk and grinned.

  “You know I was over there last night checking things out. Doctor Frendak is living there full time now. He’s the neighbor, and girl let me tell you,” she paused for effect, “if I wasn’t married I’d be over there staying with you this week!” She fanned herself.

  I held up my hand to stop her, “Alright Beck, I’ve told you now for the hundredth time that the last thing I need in my life is something else to take care of. When Brandy died it took the air out of me.”

  “You can’t compare the love of your dog to the love of a man, Brittany. It doesn’t work that way, unless you’re a sick bastard that is.”

  I snarled at her. She was fully aware that I despised it when she called me that.

  “Oh come on, seriously Britty? It doesn’t hurt to look! And if you see him walking around with his bathing suit on I want a picture. In return for that picture, I agree not to fix you up with anyone the entire time you’re here. Deal?”

  With a growl I stood up and snatched the key, shoved it in my purse, and rounded the desk to stand beside her. “Thanks for getting me a deal on the house, Beck. I expect to cook dinner for you and Buck one night this week okay?” I said as I bent down and kissed her cheek. You heard me right, my sister’s name is Beck and her husband’s name is Buck, Beck and Buck.

  Her hand rose to my head as I head hugged her, “Relax Britty, she’s going to be fine the entire week. That place is sweet, for a hospital that is.”

  I stood and looked down at her, “You’re right I know, after all it’s hard to kill yourself when you only have a mattress and four walls.”

  “Ah, don’t be a negative nelly. Come on, I’ll walk you down to your car.”

  When we reached it I unlocked the door and opened it to let the oppressive heat escape and turned to hug my sister. She was staring at my car pitifully, “Brit, are these medical bills strangling you?”

  With a nod I said, “Oh yeah. I’ll be driving this heap till I’m ninety before it’s paid off.”

  “Because you know there are cheaper places across the islands…” she nudged. It was true, there were two islands nearly adjoining that had been part of our childhood. They were of similar size too, but over the years the left barrier island had turned resort, bringing in large corporate sponsors and expensive golf courses. Whereas the right island also evolved it was still quiet and private this time of year. The perfect recipe for the rest I needed.

  I shook my head, “I’ve saved for this Beck, it’ll be the last luxury I have for a while but I’ve got to take my mind off things if even for a minute.”

  She hugged me tightly, “I love you sister. I know I tell you that every day but there is something better about saying it in person isn’t there?”

  “There sure is,” I said.

  *-*-*-*-*

  With my hands on my hips I judged everything from the car as unloaded and put away. Now it’s time to hit the wine. I filled a glass, dropped a few ice cubes into it and walked out to the full length screened in porch on my rented house. Over the years I’d forgotten how loud the ocean can be, nearly deafening until you get used to it. As a child I don’t recall ever having noticed it. But when I came home after college I barely slept due to the noise. Sleeping next to the Atlantic is like sleeping next to a train track; it takes adjustment time or ear plugs. Mine are already set beside the bed.

  A large red dog caught my attention as he escaped from the house next door. I watched tentatively as he sniffed his way around his own yard, then worked his way into mine, nose to the ground. Finally he settled on a spot and began his business, “Seriously?” I said aloud and turned my head towards the early stars, “God, have I not been crapped on enough in one lifetime? Is this really necessary?”

  A gray head leapt across the lawn in a last ditch effort to end the assault on my rented yard, “Sorry, sorry!” He hopped across the grass barefooted like a leprechaun, so I guessed this wasn’t the first time he’d caught his dog using this lawn as a rest area.

  I watched with complete humor as he grabbed the dog by the collar just as it was preparing to kick up some grass over its… well you know. He was wearing a faded blue tee shirt and purple shorts, but his gray hair was carefully cut and his skin bronzed and cared for. Doctor Frendak, I presumed with a grin. Beck was right, as soon as he takes his shirt off I’m getting my camera. This man is Richard Gere, Kevin Costner and the hulk guy all tossed into one wonderful man salad.

  “Sorry!” he shrugged with apology. “I’ll be back to clean that up. Let me just run in and get something.”

  True to his word, in a few moments he was back bearing a plastic grocery bag and a chilled bottle of wine. After cleaning up my lawn he climbed the steps to the porch, I pulled open the screen door. “A tok
en of apology?” he offered and held out the cold bottle.

  I laughed and pushed the door open to allow him in, “Only if you’ll share it with me?”

  To my surprise he shook his head, “I’m kind of awkward with women I’m afraid. That’s what happens when you’re married too long and then find yourself alone.”

  I nodded with complete understanding. “Then this will be one awkward bottle of wine. But it’s chilled and I’m not sure that drinking alone is ever a good idea. Come on in, we’ll get through it.” I smiled.

  Hesitantly he stepped onto the last step onto the porch, “Okay, but if I say something stupid you have my permission to toss me down the stairs.”

  “Headfirst?”

  A small smile broached his face; it was only a slight one but I’m sure I saw it nonetheless. He seemed to be an intensely serious person, not the type to use alcohol as an excuse to get in my pants. Most men I’ve met of his kind are in fact doctors, the occasional lawyer or banker, but mainly doctors. All were awkward in social situations; it’s the price they pay for seven years of medical training. Once you’ve pulled yourself out of society for that long it’s difficult to rejoin, and many just never do. Its only one of my man theories, but there are many that describe in full detail why men are simply too high maintenance to keep as pets.

  “Let me get another glass and a corkscrew,” I said.

  When I returned to the porch he was still standing in the exact spot that he’d been when I left as though he were afraid to move. “Won’t you sit down? I’m Britty Michaels by the way,” I held out my hand in welcome.

  He took it hastily and shook it as if he were in a hurry to dispose of it, and I chuckled. “Gentry Frendak,” he said and shuffled to the colorfully padded wicker sofa to sit down.

  “Gentry, that’s an unusual name,” I posed.

  “Not in my family it isn’t,” he groaned as I handed him a glass of wine.

  With that I laughed, “I’m one to talk. I can’t stand my name. That’s why everyone just calls me Britty.”

  He sipped the wine, “What’s that short for?”

  “Brittany. And before you say it, yes I’m aware that every twenty year old on the planet is named Brittany. That doesn’t make it any better for me.”

  He chuckled a bit, “Yes but ah… thirty years ago that name was barely known. Do you know why your parents chose it?”

  I sipped more wine appreciating his slight under-compensation of my age, “Because Brittany was my mother’s maiden name.” He laughed out loud now.

  “The southern family curse!” he said with a small grin. “What brings you to the island this time of year, Britty?” He took care with my name.

  I leaned back in my matching wicker chair and sighed, “Taking a break from the constant and overwhelming care of someone I love very much.”

  “Oh I’m sorry,” he said, but with typical doctor like nosiness he continued, “Your husband or a parent?”

  “Neither, my daughter.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” he continued as though conversations of this kind between strangers were normal and acceptable. The invitation to throw him headfirst from the porch was beginning to be a viable solution. But there was something in his eyes that told me he meant no harm; medical situations are his specialty after all.

  “Her father says its affluenza, actual medical doctors call it other things. She’s in Charter Behavioral Health Center currently recovering from a bout that caused her to throw her boyfriend’s air conditioning unit from their third floor apartment through his car window, while he was sitting in it. Granted he was talking to a new girl on the phone while he was sitting there,” I shrugged.

  “I can see where you’d have some doubts about whether that was the right decision for her to make. Did the boy survive?”

  I nodded, “He won’t be dating for a while, but yes he did.”

  Gentry laughed, “They say all’s fair in love and war, but that sure takes it to another level now doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” I agreed and finished my glass. “Would you like another?”

  He held out his glass and I filled it. “So tell me Gentry, what brings you to the island this time of year?”

  He swallowed and nodded, “Living here full time now. Wife kicked me out last August. Said her personal trainer was a better lover. Having worked out with that bitch I just bet she is better. Sadistic whore.”

  “Damn Gentry, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel about it?” I choked.

  “I warned you that I wasn’t fit for public consumption,” and he moved to get up.

  “Oh sit back down you fool, my ears aren’t bleeding quite yet and I’m still drinking here!” We laughed together and he tucked himself back into my rented wicker sofa and resumed his spot in his glass of wine.

  “I’m sorry, I am. I shouldn’t be spouting off about my issues when clearly you have enough on your plate. Besides I’m a cheap wino - two glasses and I’m sloshed. Forgive me?”

  “No need, I’m thoroughly enjoying hearing that someone other than me has a screwed up life! Sometimes I feel too alone I think.” I stared down into my swirling wine, that’s the truth of the matter. Since her father left us, my daughter and I barely eeked out an existence. We were too poor to go out to restaurants or buy wine, but this week I’m planning on doing both. Livin’ it up!”

  Gentry peered at me over his glass, “You know, I’m having a gathering tomorrow night at my house. Somehow my sorry ass lawyer got me the “Dinner Club” as part of my divorce. I’m still not sure how that worked in my benefit, but he said it was a win. Rather a traditional event, perhaps you wouldn’t be interested in such excitement?”

  I assumed he was being sarcastic and I laughed. “What time and what shall I wear?” I used my strongest southern accent.

  He held up his hand as if to take an oath, “I swear to you its black tie.”

  I nibbled my bottom lip considering, “That would mean retail therapy now wouldn’t it?”

  He nodded, “Unless you normally wear an evening gown at the beach.”

  I was doing mental math, if I cut out dinner downtown on Thursday I could manage a decent gown. It wouldn’t be expensive, but I learned the knack for dressing elegantly but cheaply long ago. "Yes then!” I giggled, “You have a date.”

  His expression turned serious and he studied me in the fading light, I took care to arch my face so that he got my profile since it’s my best angle. God help me I think I’m flirting. “Nine then?”

  Usually I am tucked in bed by nine, but what the hell, I am on vacation. “Nine.”

  He stood to leave, “I need to get going I guess. See you tomorrow then?”

  “I’ll see you!” I chirped, too excitedly and immediately realized that I sounded like a party hungry cheerleader. He glanced at me strangely and moved towards the screen door.

  “Okay, good night then.”

  “Good night Gentry,” and I overdid it a tad on the dramatic side in compensation for sounding like a cheerleader. This man turns me awkward. Thirty minutes with him and I think I’m Barbie. Geez. I went inside and pulled the drapes.

  *-*-*-*-*

  As it turned out Beck had a dress that fit me perfectly. Granted it was made from thick black nylon, but it hugged my form and didn’t attract the eye to the bulges too much. A borrowed pair of my nieces “stripper shoes” and a pair of pantyhose from CVS and I was ready to do my hair. I whisked it up in a messy bun and spent an hour making it messier before I put on my black pearl teardrops. They were the perfect fit for an elegant look; anymore would detract from my sexy persona. If you want to catch a man, you’ve got to set a trap, and my reflection in the mirror showed a widow ready to pounce. For the record, I am not a widow.

  With a glance at the digital clock beside my rented bed I noted that it was an hour until nine and I headed to the kitchen for a cold shot of vodka to soothe my nerves. As it turned out, it took four to soothe them and discovering that I still had f
orty minutes until nine I laid my head down on the table for a short beauty nap.

  When I opened my eyes the clock on the stove reported eleven o’ two. Startled I rushed to the window to look next door certain that the party was nearly over. But the house next door was ablaze with lights, music, and people wandering off and onto the decks. With a last check in the mirror and a splash of Listerine I headed across the narrow grassway that separated the two beach houses. My niece’s stripper shoes sunk into the ground with each step, so I found myself walking rather like a… well, a leprechaun.

  Finally reaching the gravel walk I eagerly climbed the stairs desperately trying to think of a better excuse than having fallen asleep on the kitchen table. Not able to come up with anything sensible I decided to wing it and just pretend being two hours late for a date was acceptable. I rang the doorbell on the expansive front porch and waited. Clearly there was a great deal of activity going on inside and afraid that no one had heard the bell. I reached to ring it again. At that moment the door swung open and a balding man of approximately my age grinned and held out a glass of bourbon as he crooned, “Welcome!” He motioned me inside with a grand wave of his hand.

  At that moment I glanced further into the main room of the house and stood motionless staring at Gentry, in black tie, with his pants around his ankles and a lovely blond servicing his groin. Her head bounced back and forth quickly, but Gentry was caught by the activity at the door and met my eye. He held out his glass of bourbon and shrugged as the blond nursed his crotch.

  I reached forward and snatched the bourbon from the man in the doorway, and then I grabbed the door handle and shut the door in my own face. I remained on the porch with my hand on the door handle for a few moments absorbing what I’d seen. Gentry invited me to a swinger’s party? Again I faced the stars and spoke, “God? Seriously?” I downed the bourbon and left the glass on the railing of the porch before I walked across the grass with my borrowed stripper shoes in hand.