1c8c0f371c0d914159db2df0bf94b5c6

So he sighed and nodded.“You’re probably right. It’s probably a simple case of human psychology, just as you say.”

“Of course it is! And I know this has been absolutely devastating for you, Tex. It can’t be a lot of fun to lose half your patients to some hot young doctor moving in across the street, but I’m here to tell you that a solution is at hand.”

Tex half expected Jaqlyn to suggest he was going to start refusing new patients. To draw up some sort of unwritten agreement whereby they divided Hampton Cove in different sectors, like Berlin at the end of WWII. Instead, Jaqlyn smiled widely, and said,“Next time I take a trip I’m going to refer all of my patients to you. And trust me, I take plenty of trips. In fact I’ve got one coming up next month. How about it, buddy? Deal?”

Tex suddenly felt very tired.“Sure, Jaqlyn,” he said. “I’ll handle your patients while you go on holiday.”

He could have told Jaqlyn he was one of those doctors who very rarely took a holiday, because he didn’t want to leave his patients in the lurch, but refrained from saying this.

“Thanks, buddy,” said Jaqlyn, giving him that pat on the chest he’d been trying to land for a while now. “I knew I could count on you. I’m leaving on the sixteenth and I’m back on the Sunday.” He turned to go, then remembered something. “Oh, you didn’t hear this from me, but the Franklin Raiders asked me to handle their sports physicals this year.”

Tex’s jaw dropped. “The Raiders? But I always do their physicals!”

Jaqlyn gave him a helpless grimace.“What can I say, buddy? Shiny and new. See ya!”

And then he was gone, hurrying down the sidewalk to his shiny new Porsche, getting behind his shiny new wheel, and roaring off at full speed to his shiny new home.

As he closed the front door, Tex felt dazed. If Franklin High School was going to replace him, too, soon he wouldn’t have any patients left.

“Who was it, honey?” Marge yelled from upstairs.

“Just a patient who needed some urgent advice!” he yelled back.

“You’re way too nice, Tex!”

“I know,” he said quietly.

He didn’t want Marge to worry, but if this kept up he’d soon be out of a job.

And as he pounded up the stairs with heavy step, he thought that maybe the time had come to consider a radical solution to his problem. The kind of solution that would take care of the issue once and for all.

A resolute look came over him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures…

Chapter 17

Vesta had heard her son-in-law come stomping up the stairs and hoped that this time he’d stay put and let her sleep. That was the disadvantage of living under the same roof with your relatives: they kept getting in your way, occupying the bathroom just when you needed to go, leaving horrible hair in the sink, or dropping their shoes where you tripped over them.

Sometimes she wondered if men actually ever grew up or if they stayed the same infantile messy little boys all of their lives.

Long association with the opposite sex had convinced her the latter was true.

As she lay in bed, sleep unfortunately still wouldn’t come. The stirring events of the evening had been too trying for a nervous system already a little taxed beyond its limits. Days of asking random strangers about the meaning of life and happiness and cajoling her family members into joining her newfound religious home had had that effect on her. Her initial fervor hadn’t abated. Quite the opposite in fact. She felt even more fired up now than before, but what she couldn’t abide was some scarlet harlot taking what was rightfully hers: the reward of being seated at the master’s table.

It was just like Scarlett to ruin her big moment. Not only had the brazen hussy stolen Vesta’s husband, and once upon a time even her job, she now deliberately had set out to steal Vesta’s crowning achievement: becoming a member of Omar’s inner circle.

And as these thoughts kept interfering with her desire to get a good night’s rest, suddenly her phone chimed. She quickly grabbed it from the nightstand and frowned when she saw that some unknown joker desired speech with her.

For a moment she wavered. She got her fair share of surveys and robocalls and didn’t need another loser trying to scam her out of her life’s savings. Then again, what if it was important? What if it was the President of the United States wanting to offer her a seat on his board of advisors? Or an ambassadorship in the Bahamas or Monte Carlo?

So she picked with a growled,“What?”

“Vesta? Vesta Muffin?”

“You dialed my number, pal, so who do you think this is?”

“Please hold for Master Omar,” the voice intoned, and Vesta gulped. Quickly she reached for her dentures, resting comfortably in a glass on the nightstand, and shoved them into her mouth. If she was going to have a midnight call with her guru she needed teeth.

“Vesta? Hi,” Omar’s quiet voice suddenly sounded in her ear.