he needed work. He had living expenses to meet and his own house to renovate. Although he was finding it tough working at a medical clinic, being that close to medicine again.
When he’d answered the ad, it had read that this was to be a room addition. He’d assumed a house, as the ad had said to apply at Eula’s House. So if he’d known … actually, he’d have probably applied, anyway. But at least he’d have been prepared to spend his days around doctors and nurses. That was the tough part, being around them and not being part of them.
Well, money was money. And lemonade was lemonade. “I appreciate it, ma’am,” he said to Maggie, as she handed the glass to him.
“There’s more, if you want it,” she said. “Up on the front porch. Help yourself. And tell the other workers to help themselves.”
“I’ll tell the others, but I think one will hit the spot for me, thanks.”
“My name’s Maggie Doucet, by the way,” she said, smiling at him.
“And I’m Alain Lalonde,” he replied.
“You’re from around here, aren’t you? I can tell from the drawl.”
“Just moved back from Chicago.”
“Chicago? Really? That’s where my sister’s husband was living when she met him. Justin Bergeron. You’ve met him, haven’t you? He’s the doctor on call here.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ve met him,” he said, handing her back the empty glass after downing the lemonade in nearly one gulp, like it was bad medicine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me …”
He turned his back and started to walk away. But Maggie called out to him, “Alain, would you care to stay for gumbo tonight? As your drawl indicates you’re from around here, I think you’ll appreciate a good gumbo for what it is, and my sister’s husband is making enough to feed an army.”
“Appreciate the invitation, ma’am, but I have other plans.” Said politely, because he was grateful for the offer, but he wasn’t in a social mood and he didn’t want to drag the others down with his attitude. In other words, he knew he’d throw the proverbial wet blanket on the party and he didn’t want to do that. “Maybe another time.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you’re always welcome …”
“Again, thanks. Look, I’ve got to get back to work, ma’am. The job foreman isn’t paying me to stand around and talk. Thanks for the lemonade.”
Well, that went badly, Maggie thought as she walked away. Talk about a polite dismissal.
“So?” Mellette asked, even before Maggie was inside the clinic.
“So, what?”
“What did he say?” Mellette asked. “I saw you two talking, so what was it about?”
“He didn’t ask me out, if that’s what you mean. In fact, I asked him to gumbo tonight and he turned me down.”
“Seriously, you asked him to dinner after you told me you wouldn’t?”
Maggie shrugged. “I was trying to be friendly. That’s all.”
“There are six other men on the job site. Did you ask them all, too? Or did you just single out Mr. Tool Belt?”
“His name is Alain Lalonde, and he’s the only one I asked. And that’s the end of the conversation, as far as I’m concerned because—” she glanced down at the floor “—have you looked at how swollen your ankles are? I want you to go sit down, elevate your legs and leave my love life to me.”
“So you’re thinking about Alain in terms of your love life?” Mellette teased on her way to her favorite chair.
“I don’t want a love life!” Maggie retorted. “Let me repeat myself. I don’t want a love life. I have work, I have school, I have my volunteer work here. I have a pregnant sister who needs me to help her. That’s enough. No love life!”
“Yes, right,” Mellette said, as she changed her mind and headed to the stairs, deciding to go to one of the two bedrooms on the second floor for a real rest. “Oh, and Billie Louviere will be here in half an hour for her three-month checkup. Pregnancy’s normal, she’s doing fine. Justin’s available if you need him, but if you don’t, tell her hello for me. Oh, and keep an eye on her blood pressure. It hasn’t been high but something tells me she might be a candidate for hypertension the further she gets into this pregnancy.”
“Her first?”
“After a couple of miscarriages. She’s pretty nervous.”
“And I’m pretty nervous about your swollen ankles. So go put them up, and call me if you need anything.”
“Like lemonade,” Mellette teased.
“Leave the lemonade out of this.”
Once back outside, Maggie tried not looking for Alain Lalonde, but that was nearly impossible as all the building activity was directly in her line of sight as she sat on the porch. “Okay, so he’s good to look at,” she said as she poured herself another lemonade. Good to watch, good to turn into a little midday fantasy. After all, there was no harm in looking, was there?
After Billie Louviere’s checkup, a couple of walk-ins presented themselves at the clinic, and by midafternoon Maggie had actually seen enough patients that she was getting tired. Not exhausted, but with just the right amount of weariness setting in that she really felt she’d done a good day’s work. It was time to go home, though. Eat a quick bowl of gumbo and head on back to town.
Even though she was taking the summer off from school, she still had casework for a couple of legal clients to go over this evening, and she did want to read a chapter in one of her law textbooks, if she stayed awake that long.
“Time to get up,” she called down the hall to Mellette, who was still napping in Justin’s former bedroom. While no one actually lived at Eula’s House anymore, named for Justin’s grandmother, they kept the upstairs as a residence, hoping that one day it might be turned into a very small hospital ward. The downstairs had been converted into a clinic that maintained a portion of Eula’s herbal practice, as well as a proper medical clinic. To outsiders it might seem a confused mishmash of traditions, but to the people of Big Swamp it was where they could seek medical help in whatever form they chose.
“Come on, Mellette. We need to eat, then I’ve got to get out of here. Go home, go over some case files.” She pushed open the bedroom door to look in on her sleeping sister. Then gasped. Her ankles were puffier than before. So were her hands, and even her face, especially around her eyes, looked puffy.
“You okay?” she asked as she approached the bed.
“Headache,” Mellette said. “A little nauseous. Think the heat’s done me in.” She started to sit up, but Maggie gently nudged her back down.
“Stay there. Don’t get up yet.”
“Why?” Mellette asked. Mellette, a nurse herself, had worked in emergency medicine at New Hope, where their mother, Zenobia, was chief of staff.
“Because you’re tired, and tiredness and pregnancy aren’t a good combination. I’m going to go downstairs and get you a drink of cold water, so don’t get up. Hear me?”
“Hear you,” Mellette said, as she dropped back into her pillows and shut her eyes.
Two minutes later Mellette had a blood-pressure cuff strapped to her sister’s arm, and two minutes after that she was on her way back downstairs to find Justin.
He was outside, talking to Mr. Tool Belt. “Something’s wrong with Mellette,” Maggie interrupted, not beating around the bush for a more tactful way to approach it. “I don’t do obstetrics so I can’t tell for sure, but she’s awfully swollen, her blood pressure is on the high end of normal and—”
“Where’s