here was only one main road into town, which had no choice but to end when it met the water of the gulf. From there the driver had to choose east or west along the beach.
Dolly’s Donuts was located on the main road. As the local morning hangout for the senior citizens, it was also the place in town for quality donuts. China’s mom had pointed out more than once to her that patience was a virtue. That might be so but China had promised hot donuts, and she didn’t like to disappoint.
As she hurried into Dolly’s, she mentally reviewed her order list. She glanced at her wrist watch. Yes, she was going to be late. Something that had never happened before. The line at the counter was four deep when she slipped into the tight glassed-in space that was Dolly’s customer area. The place still had the feel of a fifties-era coffee shop, with a few metal stools with orange seats facing a long narrow counter.
China studied the tall man in front of her with the wide shoulders. His dark hair was cut supershort, as if it had been shaved off and was beginning to grow out.
One customer down, three more to go.
Her attention returned to the man. He wore a salmon-color polo shirt that fit him loosely but contrasted nicely with his dark coloring.
She peeked around him to see what was happening with the next patron. The man gave her a pointed look and she straightened, finding her place in line again. Her father had used that same look to make her and her siblings fall in line.
Another down. China stepped forward. Thankfully the man ahead of her was next.
“What do you consider your best donut?” he asked.
Oh, no! He was going to get Roger started on donuts. She’d be lucky to make work by lunchtime.
Dolly’s husband stated in a voice of authority from behind the cash register, “We sell a lot of these.” He pointed to a tray of glazed. “But the best, I believe, are the double chocolate. We make a special …”
China zoned out as Roger went into a monologue on how the dough was prepared.
“I’ll get you some fresh ones from the back.”
“That sounds great,” the man in front of her said, as if he had all the time in the world. He probably did, but she sure didn’t. They were expecting her at the clinic and she needed to be on time. She worked hard not to receive complaints about her actions; she wanted no conflict.
When Roger ambled off, China leaned around the man and said in a low voice, “You’re not from around here or you’d know better. Don’t ever get Roger started. It goes on forever.”
The man pinned her with a dark look of disapproval that made her chest tighten as she shrank back into her place. He turned his back to her again. She wouldn’t be saying anything further to this guy.
In the brief moment she’d seen his face straight on she’d been able to tell he was thin. No tan line marked his temple from eye to ear where sunglasses might have been. In fact, he looked as if he could use a little time outside. Still, he had an interesting face. Not handsome in the Hollywood leading man sense of the words but more in an attentiongrabbing way.
“Here you go,” Roger said. “How about coffee?”
“Black,” the man said in one deep syllable.
Roger turned away and a full minute later slid the coffee container across the counter and quoted the man his total.
With relief, China moved closer, anticipating her turn. As she did so the man rotated and bumped against her.
“Excuse me,” he said, with an air of authority.
“I’m sorry,” China said, sliding to the side to dodge his coffee cup and moving well out of his way. She didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. It had been on impulse for her to have spoken to him to begin with.
He strolled by her before she turned to placed her order. While Roger bagged it she looked out the glass doors at the broad back of the exasperating man. He headed straight for the fancy sports car. I should have known.
The man was one of those who thought he was entitled because he was handsome and drove a fancy car!
Payton pulled the Mercedes into a parking space behind the clinic to face a wall of greenery that was overgrown. In his other life it would have been another row of cars in a spiraling parking garage. He looked at the 1940s wooden house that had been converted into a treatment center. The Golden Shores Walk-in Clinic in Mississippi. It was nothing like the state-of-the-art facility he was used to, nothing resembling the highly charged ER in Chicago where ambulance sirens blared every few minutes.
Truthfully, nothing about Golden Shores was like the place he’d called home his entire life. Here the buildings went no higher than three levels when he was used to skyscrapers and glittering glass. Two-lane roads were the norm. None of those eight-lane interstates with cars whizzing by. If he got behind a truck pulling a boat then he had to sit back for the ride. Everything moved slower and people spoke with a drawl. But this was what he wanted. The easier pace, the chance to enjoy life. A place to recover. He’d moved nine hundred miles from family and friends to find his own destiny. Cancer had taken its toll and now it was time for him to take control. Create the life he wanted.
He hadn’t counted on the cute but weird local who had been behind him at the bakery. She’d certainly not been tuned into the idea of a relaxed pace. Donuts weren’t his usual fare for breakfast so hopefully the chance of running into her again were slim to none.
Payton gathered his coffee and donuts and got out of the car. Unsure where to enter the building, he spied a sign stating it was the employees’ entrance and started toward it just as a compact car whipped into the lot. He pushed the door open and found himself at the end of a passage that ran the length of the house.
Closing the door behind him, he headed towards the voices coming from the front. The floor creaked in places as he walked down the wooden plank hall. No serviceable white-tile floors of a hospital E.R. in sight. Along the way he passed small rooms located on the left side. Those had to be the exam rooms. Directly across from the third one was a small room that looked like an office. Next to it and just before the waiting room was an alcove that appeared to be the lab area. Can you say go back in time thirty years?
The end of the hall opened into a waiting room with a waist-high counter to the right that served as the reception desk. Chairs that looked like hand-me-downs from the hospital business office were pushed up against the other walls.
All talking stopped as he came into view. Three pairs of eyes fixed on him as he said, “Hello. I’m Dr. Jenkins, I hope you’re expecting me.”
Suddenly each woman started speaking. Finally, the middle-aged one with the red spiky hair waved a hand and the other two stopped. “Hi, I’m Jean, the office manager. This is Robin.” She indicated the young woman to her left, who appeared to be fresh out of college and was smiling at him as if he were a candy bar. “She’s one of the nurses. And this …” she pointed to the middle-aged woman sitting at the desk “… is Doris. She handles Reception. We heard you were coming and we’re glad to have you.”
“Thanks. I’m glad to be here. So we handle everything with one nurse?”
“Well, no. I don’t know where China is but she should be here in a minute. It isn’t like her to be late.”
“Hey, someone give me a hand,” a voice that was vaguely familiar called from the door through which he’d just entered. “You wouldn’t believe the idiot in front of me at Dolly’s,” the disembodied voice said, dripping aggravation.
Down the hall came the woman who had been at the donut shop. Her attention was focused on maneuvering her way in the narrow space and she seemed to be struggling to keep several bakery bags and the purse that was slipping off her shoulder in place. Her chin-length, straight brown hair swung as she walked. She had a petite frame that made her almost seem fairy-like, especially dressed in hot pink scrubs.
The