Epilogue

"Doctor," Maria said as I got up from the piano.

She knew it was a good idea to catch me before the flood. The cell phone's ringing made her sigh with annoyance.

"Alicia's in your office," she said shaking her head. "You can only give her fifteen minutes because the Thompsons are here to discuss their son's procedure tomorrow. The parents are scaring the shit out of that little boy, David."

"He could die," I said.

"You're the best, David," she said with a catch in her voice.

"He could still die," I whispered to myself.

My hand went out to touch her ass as she turned around. She gave me a warm smile over her shoulder before going back to her desk. I thought being my secretary was a waste of Maria's intelligence, but she lacked the ambition for more.

"Hello, Charlene," I said after a quick glance at the display.

"I found number four, David," Charlene answered in an excited voice.

Charlene Tilson married well three times, and divorced better as many. Opportunistic women wanted to know how she managed to get her fiances to agree to no prenuptial agreement; privately, the husbands said it was that Charlene fucked with passion and abandon making them forget the little details before the wedding.

"You have to meet him," Charlene demanded.

"Of course," I replied.

I had first hand knowledge of Charlene's skills in the bedroom, but the truth about the unsigned prenuptials was simpler. Charlene thought they were unromantic; marriages are supposed to last forever. I made sure her future husband saw things her way.

"I'll make arrangements with Emily," she said and then hesitated. "How is she doing?"

"Better," I answered giving the response that every one of the Emily's old cheerleading teammates got to that question.

"I'm happy to hear that," she said distractedly. "Let me give her a call, and see when we can get together. Goodbye, David!"

"I'll talk to you later," I said smiling.

With a fourth husband to entice, Charlene would be calling more often.

"Sir," a woman said grabbing my arm as soon as I took the cell phone off my ear.

"Can I help you?" I asked politely.

"I wanted to say that you play wonderfully," she said smiling widely. "It makes my lunchtime so much better. Peaceful."

"Thank you very much," I replied.

My hour on the piano was popular around the nearby offices. Maria and my mother kept the door open and invited anyone that wanted to listen to come inside.

I looked at the cell phone curiously. The women knew that the best time to call me was after lunch; only one call made it an unusual low volume day.

"David, I really need to talk to you about my son," Alicia said in a maternally panicked voice when I walked into my office.

I sat down at my desk and looked at her.

"Tell your Master everything, Alicia," I said triggering what Elizabeth called the truth mode.

It made it easier to be the women's best friend if they told me everything before any 'necessary' conversations.

Alicia explained her worries, doubts, and fears. I nodded when she said that the other women agreed to give her my time after the piano that day. They had ways of arranging who got time with me when they really needed it.

Alicia's worries boiled down to her son not having a father figure in his life. I let her wind down after taking her out of truth mode. I learned early on that listening without judgment made up the largest part of whatever the women got from talking to me.

"So the boy is not going to have anyone to teach him how to play catch, that's what you're worried about?"

"You make it sound so stupid," she said angrily.

"Well, Robin played softball on a collegiate team that won two national championships," I pointed out. "She's the one that said for the sake of our recreation team I was only allowed to coach third, remember?"

"What's your point?"

"I can't catch for shit," I said. "Does that mean I should go out and find a surrogate father for my son when he's born?"

"You make it sound so stupid," she repeated.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious," I said laughing softly.

"What about when he gets curious about girls?"

"He's three months old, Alicia," I replied.

"So?" she insisted. "Parents have to think ahead about this stuff. You need to know how you're going to handle the sex questions when they come up."

"I think Robin can answer any questions about getting the girls," I said causing her to giggle. "Granted that she has to add plastic to finish you off, but I've never heard you complain."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"I'm only saying a boy could do worse than to have a lesbian clue him in on how please the ladies," I said.

"You never take this stuff seriously, David," she said after she finished laughing.

Alicia did not want me to.

"Darling," I said. "As embarrassed as your son is going to be by getting the birds and bees conversation from Robin, can you imagine what I felt during that little talk with my mom?"

"Oh God!" she said putting a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh.

"I would have preferred Robin," I said laughing with her.

"She wants to get together again," Alicia said suddenly.

"Robin?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied delivering the last message she needed to before getting up to leave.

Robin liked the rare night of male attention in the bedroom.

"We can go out Saturday night," I told her.

"With Charlene having her sights on Mr. Right Version Four," she replied disbelievingly. "She's going to want some major attention before she commits to him."

"True," I said. "I'll just bring her by."

"Charlene doesn't like being with women, David."

"Except when I'm there," I said.

"A foursome," she said lasciviously. "That might be enough to satisfy Robin; she hasn't been able to get enough since the doctor okayed sex."

I walked Alicia to the office door and watched her get into her car.

"Cheryl's here, Doctor," Maria said walking into my office after the Thompson family left.

"You can call me David when there are no patients in the office, Maria," I said for the thousandth time. "Or even when there are."

"I like calling you Doctor," she said sexily. "Doctor, that's the longest, hardest stethoscope I've ever seen... are you sure that's where you're supposed to stick it to check my pulse?"

I put my hand over my eyes and shook my head. Maria enjoyed our little 'call me David' exchanges, but they always left me uncomfortably tight in the groin area of my pants. With Cheryl waiting, I could not take the relief Maria was always happy to provide when she teased me.

"Hello, little brother," Cheryl said pushing the baby carriage to a position beside the chair in front of my desk.

Her words put me on alert.

"Hey, Cheryl," I said carefully. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," she replied sitting down. "For some reason, I needed to talk to you, but I can't put my finger on why. I figured if I came to see you, it would come to me."

I nodded reaching into a drawer for a filter mask. Cheryl watched as I reached into the neck of my shirt and pulled out the tiny plastic perfume sprayer that I wore on a thick chain.

"What's that?" she asked as I walked around the desk.

I put the mask over my nose and sprayed a cloud of mist directly into her face.

"Take a deep breath," I instructed.

Cheryl opened her eyes wide and breathed in deeply. I sat back down putting the mask away when I thought it was safe.

"What did you just do to me?" Cheryl asked.

"Pay close attention to your little brother's words, Cheryl," I said.

Needing to see me was the first trigger; calling me 'little brother' instead of 'little bro' was the second; my words were the third. I watched as her face changed from expression to expression as her mind linked memories accessible for the first time in years.

"How could you do that to me?" she asked horrified.

Cheryl stood up and pushed the baby carriage behind her.

"I wouldn't hurt my goddaughter," I said but did not move.

"Did you do this to Michael?" she pleaded.

"What are you really asking Cheryl?"

She swallowed and glanced at the door.

"Running is not possible for you right now," I told her.

Cheryl sat back down but did not look at me.

"Did you make Michael love me?" she asked finally.

"Michael almost makes me believe that a man can love a woman before he ever meets her," I answered honestly.

Her entire being relaxed into the chair.

"But you did something to him," she stated.

"I adjusted him a little," I told her. "He's more willing to listen no matter how tired he might be. He never tells you how you should or shouldn't feel. Little things that I've learned women appreciate."