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Alice’s eyes lit up at the gift. She touched it reverently, took it in her small hand, and stroked her cheek with it. After a moment she blinked up at Violet and said, “Ank ’ou.”
The three old women gasped and looked at one another. Finally they looked at Julia. “You saved her,” Daisy said in a stiff voice, obviously bothered by the emotion behind the words.
“Your mom would be so proud,” Violet said, nodding to her sisters for confirmation. They bobbed their heads in unison.
Julia smiled. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without all of you. The town really protected us.”
“You’re one of us,” Daisy said simply.
As one, the trio turned and left the diner.
Tightening her hold on Alice’s hand, Julia led her to a booth in the corner. There, they ordered grilled cheese sandwiches, fries, and milk shakes from Rosie. The food hadn’t been served yet when the bell over the door tinkled again.
Alice glanced up and said, “Max,” matter-of-factly.
He didn’t see them until he’d picked up his lunch order and turned for the door.
When he looked at her, Julia’s heart did a little flip.
“Hey,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “No date for lunch, Doctor?”
“Not yet.”
“Then perhaps you should join us.”
He looked down at Alice. “May I sit next to you?”
Her little face scrunched in thought. “No hurt Jewlee?”
Max looked surprised by that. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” When he saw Alice’s confusion, he said softly, “No hurt Julia.”
Alice finally scooted sideways to make room for him.
Max sat down across from Julia. He’d barely made contact with the vinyl seat when Rosie swooped in beside him. She was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s like watching the moon landing. I knew it was true about you two.” She set out a place setting in front of him.
“Alice is my patient,” Max said evenly.
Rosie winked one heavily made-up, false-lashed eye. “’Course she is.”
When she was gone, Max said, “Before I finish my sandwich, everyone in town will know about this. Every patient I see for a week will ask about you.”
A few minutes later Rosie showed up with their lunches.
“Ank ’ou,” Alice said, grinning up at the waitress.
Rosie returned to the kitchen.
Julia was about to tell Alice to eat one french fry at a time when she realized that Max was staring at her.
She met his gaze and saw fear in his blue eyes. He was afraid of her, of them. It was a fear she understood; it had shaped much of her life. Passion was a dangerous thing, and love even more so. More often than not, i
t was love that had devastated her patients—either its excess or its lack. But Alice had taught her a thing or two about love . . . and courage.
“What?” he said, unsmiling.
Julia felt something new, a kind of opening wonder. She wasn’t afraid anymore.
