“He,” Scott said again.

“What?” she demanded through tears.

“What?” he repeated.

“Why do you keep saying that. He.”

“Oh. Um. Not important,” he said.

“Yes, it is. Why?”

“Well, because I was under the impression... That is, I thought your relationship was with... I thought it was a woman you were involved with.”

“A woman?” she asked, reddened eyes suddenly round.

“Based on things you said, you know....”

Suddenly, as if enraged, she slugged him right in the solar plexus. “You think I’m a lesbian?”

He backed away a little bit, rubbing his chest with his knuckles. “I thought that’s what you were telling me! Not interested in men, et cetera!”

She was still frowning, but it seemed from wonder rather than fury. “You think the only reason a woman wouldn’t be interested in men is if she’s a lesbian?”

“Hey, I was wrong, apparently! I just...”

“Made stupid assumptions. Why didn’t you just ask me? Jeez, you are not as smart as you look!”

“Clearly,” he said, still rubbing his chest.

A noise escaped from her, and she crumpled on to her folded arms again, literally wailing.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry, all right? I meant no offense. I mean, it wouldn’t matter to me, not in any way. Except in the way that it puts you off-limits, not just technically, but... Come on, Peyton, I’m sorry. Come on!”

She lifted her head, and there were tears on her cheeks again, but not from crying. She was laughing hysterically. Her smile was huge. She wiped at her eyes again and shook her head. “You’re such an idiot.”

He frowned at her. “Get it out of your system and be done with it. I made a mistake. I didn’t do it on purpose. And I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I wasn’t offended,” she said, giving her nose a good blow. “I was shocked! And now I’m wondering what kind of vibe I give off.”

“It wasn’t a vibe. It was what you said— I thought you were laying it out there. Establishing boundaries. ‘Before there’s a lot of curiosity or conjecture,’ you said. That sounds like you’re saying, ‘Before anyone wonders why men don’t interest me....etc, etc.’ To tell the truth, I was pretty shocked, too.”

“Well, let’s establish a couple of things, then. One, I’m straight. And two, the last thing I need right now is a man!”

“Understood,” he said. “Tell me about Ted.”

“Actually, I think I’ll go home and microwave a Lean Cuisine since Carrie is temporarily out of service. I’ll have an injection of white wine and make a call or two to my intimates to vent. Because see, leaving him, his house, his practice, his life—it was upsetting. Depressing. I was very sad and troubled and a little confused, though I thought I knew what went wrong with us. But I hadn’t had a good cry. Not until I heard he got someone pregnant before we officially broke up. That really brought me to my knees. And not because I’m not ready to let go of Ted. Ted can go screw himself. But because I’ve worked in a number of hospitals and practices and I know—there aren’t very many secrets. While Ted was fooling around with that young nurse, people knew. And they were either laughing or pitying me. And that hurts.” She sighed and closed up her laptop. “Pride.”

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it? Because I’d be glad to make you dinner, and while the kids are in the dining room table tent, we could talk over a glass or two of wine. Or...we could take our wine into the tent....”

She laughed at him. “As tempting as that is...I’m going home to run through my rituals that I use to get over myself. And I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’re not afraid to trust me, are you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She shook her head. “No, Scott. We’ll talk about it someday. Just not today.”

She packed up her laptop, purse and lunch tote, and he watched her leave. She turned at the office door. “Sorry for the meltdown. I thought I was alone.”

“You were alone, Peyton. I hadn’t planned to come back. I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks,” she said. And then she was gone.

Hmm, not true love, eh? he thought. Well, that’s encouraging.

Eight

Carrie James didn’t need a referral to an orthopedist. She already had one. Dr. Todd in North Bend had treated her before for the same problem. Her knees often gave her some trouble. Since she had to rest the knee for a couple of days, the deli was closed, and she waited while Dr. Todd made arrangements for her to get an MRI.

Fortunately, Carrie had some deli stock prepared, and with some help from her daughter and granddaughter, she could take a couple of days off. She kept her leg elevated, took an anti-inflammatory, iced her knee religiously and about forty-eight hours after seeing the doctor, the cortisone kicked in and the pain subsided a great deal. The swelling was much improved. Dr. Todd thought it would be a good idea to scope the knee and repair the meniscus, something Carrie didn’t want to do unless it became absolutely necessary. First she’d try to heal it, even if it meant wearing an Ace bandage for the next year.

Carrie thought about the conversation she’d had with Peyton just this morning. “I understand your reluctance, and it does look a lot better,” Peyton had said. “But, Carrie, if you go back to your grueling schedule and take this knee for granted, you’re going to quickly be right back where you started. Tell Gina and Ashley you need their help right now.”

“They’re happy to help all they can,” she’d said. “They’re great at making wraps, salad plates and sandwiches, but neither of them is much of a cook.”

“Even with your supervision?”

“I’m afraid not,” she’d said. “I’ll just have to get by with my deli stock, take at least a few weeks off from the heavy cooking and baking and pass along the wedding I’m scheduled to cater to one of my competitors in Bandon. I hate doing that. Brides are so easily upset by changes. And their mothers are positively psychotic.”

“What did Dr. Todd say about the knee?” Peyton had asked.

“Not a lot,” Carrie had said. “He was busy sharpening his knives.”