Mary paused and turned to look back at the doctor.
Dr. Fox reached for one of her cards on her desk, scribbled something on the back of it and handed it to Mary.
‘If you ever feel the need to talk… about anything… anything at all… feel free to give me a call anytime, OK?’
Mary took the card and looked at the private cell number.
‘And I don’t mean it as doctor/patient,’ Dr. Fox added. ‘We can chat as friends in a much more relaxed atmosphere, if you like.’
Mary’s gaze met Dr. Fox’s and she gave her a shy smile. Internally, she was already thinking of something sad. Not sad enough to make her cry, but enough to glass her eyes over.
It took her only one second.
‘Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.’
Sixty-Eight
Quaddra flew back to San Francisco on Sunday morning, and he and Mary spent the rest of the day together… in bed. On Monday, he left the house early, as he had a full day of meetings in his office downtown, but these were all for real.
Mary had just come back home from her daily morning run by the Bay when Antonia, the senior housemaid, walked into the kitchen carrying a full basket of laundry.
‘Miss Smith,’ she called, grabbing Mary’s attention.
Mary had asked her countless times to call her ‘Mary’, but Antonia never did. To her, it would be disrespectful to address her employers by their first names.
Mary lifted her eyes from the magazine that she was reading. ‘Hi Antonia.’
‘Did Mr. Buckner cut himself while he was away?’ Antonia asked.
Mary frowned at her. ‘Cut himself? What do you mean?’
Antonia reached into the laundry basket to retrieve a gray, long-sleeved sports shirt that belonged to Quaddra.
‘Maybe I’m wrong,’ she said, walking over to where Mary was sitting. ‘But this looks like a little blood, doesn’t it?’ She showed Mary the tip of the shirt’s right sleeve, where a few small dark-red specks could be seen. ‘Or is it wine?’
Mary recognized the shirt as one of Quaddra’s moisture-wickingrunning shirts. Its materials reduced perspiration and kept body moisture locked in. She had a couple of similar tops herself.
Mary took the shirt and looked at the dark dots on the sleeve from several different angles before stretching the fabric and bringing it to her nose. All she got was a faint scent of Quaddra’s usual cologne. She then rubbed her thumb and forefinger against the stains for a couple of seconds. The fabric under them had hardened a touch. Like it would’ve had with dried blood.
‘He didn’t mention anything to me,’ Mary finally replied, her tone a little concerned. ‘But you’re right. This does look like blood, not wine. That’s strange.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Antonia said, reaching for the shirt. ‘I can use Tide Oxi on it. That thing is like magic. It gets rid of all sorts of stains.’
‘Actually, no,’ Mary said, holding on to the shirt. ‘Leave it with me, Antonia, and I’ll ask Quaddra when he gets in this evening.’
That evening, Quaddra got home just a few minutes past eight o’clock. Mary was sitting in the study/library room, reading a book on psychology.
‘Hey babe,’ Quaddra said, poking his head through the door. ‘How was your day?’
‘Hey honey.’ Mary put down the book and walked over to Quaddra to kiss him. ‘All good… easy. Dropped by the gallery this afternoon to sort a few things out and that was about it, really. How was yours?’
He put his arms around her. ‘One meeting after another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Same old, same old, but I do have some great news.’
‘Really?’ Mary smiled. ‘Do tell.’
‘As discussed.’ Quaddra kissed her again. ‘Vienna – tickets bought and hotel booked. Europe baby.’
They had talked about their trip last night, with Quaddra insisting that they flew in his private jet. It was way more practical and convenient than a commercial airliner, but Mary told him that she’d heard too many stories about things going wrong with private jets, especially during long-haul flights. Quaddra did try to explain how safe private jets really were and that his pilot, Bill Stoneheart, was ex-military, with over twenty years of flying experience, but Mary really wasn’t having any of it. In the end, Quaddra simply gave in.