The Best Of Us. Robyn Carr

call the doctor. If it gets bad in the night, I have her cell number.” She had said it would save her a world of trouble if he’d just call that number rather than meeting a big problem first thing in the morning. Made sense. “We’re going to be good boys and not take off that bandage. I don’t know what happens if you do that but I think she executes you. It sounded serious.” He craned his neck toward the living room. “Your girls gone?” There they sat, waiting patiently. Quietly.

      “Everything okay?” Sid asked, drying the last pot.

      “Pain, like she said would happen,” Rob said.

      “Can you put ice on it?” Sid asked.

      Rob got a shocked look on his face. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll call her after things quiet down and ask.”

      “Good idea,” Sid said. She leaned toward Finn and kissed his cheek. “We’re going home. If you need me for any reason, please call.”

      “We’re good,” Rob said.

      Dakota put a hand on Finn’s shoulder. He leaned close. “Nice cheering section, bud,” he said.

      “Thanks,” Finn said.

      A half hour later, Finn had another pain pill and the girls retreated. Rob ordered Finn to bed and Sean to his room to either finish homework or find some quiet pastime—it would probably take place on his tablet or phone.

      Once everything was quiet he called Dr. Culver.

      “Yeah, that’s exactly what I would expect. You can cover the bandage with Press’n Seal or a plastic bag and rest a bag of frozen peas in the palm. Gently.”

      “We have a variety of cold packs,” he said. “Athletic boys. They have to ice knees and shoulders and even heads regularly.”

      “As long as it’s a soft ice pack,” she said. “We don’t want to disturb the stitches. Why don’t you bring Finn by the clinic before school and let me have a quick look, just to be sure.”

      He grinned so big his cheeks hurt. And he was glad no one could see his face. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll do that.”

      “We mustn’t have any regrets,” Helen Culver said. “The house can sit empty until we’re absolutely sure. I have plenty of friends here in Naperville so after we sell the house I can come back for a visit anytime. I don’t have to have my own house to visit friends.”

      “It’s the only home I’ve ever known, but I’m not there. It’s just that...”

      “You like knowing it’s waiting for you?” Helen asked.

      “Well, I haven’t decided I’m staying here for the long-term, but I haven’t decided I’m not, either. And I understand you’re done with those winters. Winter here is not like that. It’s mostly calm. And with all the ski lodges, it’s very festive. And cozy. There’s nothing like a blazing fire on a snowy evening.”

      It was early morning. Helen and Leigh were both early risers. They usually had their daily chats before starting work and sometimes again after work in the evening. They talked every day with rare exceptions. Even when Helen was traveling.

      “It should sell for a good price. The house is over fifty years old but in excellent shape in a nice neighborhood near shopping and restaurants, in a great school district...”

      “Why does this come up today?” Leigh asked. “This morning?”

      “I can’t get the car out of the garage!” Helen said. “I’m snowed in.”

      “Oh,” Leigh said, smothering a chuckle. “It looks like spring is on the way here, but there are no guarantees.”

      “You know I’ve been thinking about it, Leigh. I can arrange to have it polished up and put on the market. Maybe when I’m down there visiting you. Houses move nicely from spring through summer, before a new school year starts. If you’re ready.”

      “Auntie, do you need the money from the sale?” Leigh asked.

      “Nah, I’ve got money. I’m a miser! Eventually I’ll buy something in a more hospitable climate. Not only am I tired of the cold, I’m bloody over gray skies!”

      “You’ll miss the changing seasons,” Leigh predicted.

      “As I’ve said, I can always visit. More likely my girls will visit me!”

      She always called them her girls. They were friends of a certain age and they were wonderful fun. Wonderfully bad. All writers. Leigh adored them. They came and went over the years, but Helen was always surrounded by sassy, hard-working, independent women, some married, some not. One of them was on her third husband. “What do you think, Auntie? La Jolla?”

      “I’m not settled on that quite yet,” she said.

      “La Jolla is a bit pricey, isn’t it?”

      “Everything is pricey. I want you to decide if you’re settled. There’s no great hurry and it doesn’t have to be final. You might decide to go back to Chicago, in which case you can always buy a new house. Wherever I go will have room for you.”

      “And I will always have room for you. We’ll spend the summer here.”

      “Much of it, sure. I’m going to New York in May and visiting friends in San Francisco in July.”

      “All right, I have a patient coming in early so I can look at his stitches. I’ll think about this. We’ll talk tonight.”

      “Is he single?” Helen asked. “This patient?”

      “Why, yes, he is,” Leigh said. “He’s seventeen.” No need to mention his handsome father.

      “Ah! You’re no fun at all. I’ll let you go. Take this matter seriously. A house sitting empty is a liability. And I’m freezing! If we’re not going to live in it...”

      “I’ll talk to you after work,” Leigh said. And just then she heard the bell on the front door of the clinic.

      Helen was so right, she thought. Leigh didn’t see herself going back to that old life, that hectic grind in the big city. This probably wasn’t her final destination but she was enjoying her work life a lot more than she had a year ago. And she’d made some friends here. She actually had a pretty decent social life. Not like city life but still good.

      She shrugged into her white lab coat and went to the reception area. Her staff hadn’t arrived yet and that early-morning time alone was great. The Shandon men stood in the waiting room. This time the younger brother was also present. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. “How’s the pain this morning, Finn?”

      “It comes and goes,” he said. “I didn’t sleep much.”

      “Did the ice help?” she asked.

      He shrugged. “A little bit.”

      “Okay, let’s look at it. This once.”

      They all gathered in the treatment room. Finn sat on the table. Leigh pulled her bandage scissors out of her pocket. She reminded herself he was a seventeen-year-old boy. Men were often melodramatic when it came to illness. They could power through pulled muscles and broken bones, but let ’em get the flu and it was like death. Same with bloody injuries.

      She sliced through the wrap. “You’re probably going to be sorry,” she said. “Eleanor is a much gentler wrapper than I am, or so I’m told. And we’re not doing this every day, you know.”

      “I know,” he said. “Can you put something on it to keep it from hurting?”

      “Your palm and fingertips are very sensitive, but they’re also good healers. Ah,” she said, spreading the bandage. “Looks good. A little inflammation, no bleeding, stitches intact. Here’s what should concern you—if bleeding shows through the bandage or if a red line is traveling up your arm,