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“Get the tests entered into Mrs. Barton’s chart,” he ordered as if he had no heart. “I’m going to make some calls to get everything started.”
“Yes, sir.” She said it so formally he had to look to make sure she hadn’t saluted him. He wasn’t so sure she hadn’t.
* * *
What was he doing standing outside Savannah’s apartment door again? Charlie wondered later that night.
Hadn’t they said everything that needed to be said?
Apparently not or he wouldn’t be here. With gifts.
Which seemed rather ridiculous, considering, but she’d always admired the vase. An interior decorator had chosen it, but Savannah had always been drawn to the intricate cut glass. The tickets, well, it wasn’t as if he needed tickets to an upcoming Chattanooga concert. He’d bought them because she liked the band. It only seemed fitting he give them to her.
He heard her pause on the other side of the door, no doubt to glance through the peephole.
“No one’s home,” she called through the door.
“I have something for you.”
“A going away present?” Sarcasm dripped from each word. “Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?”
“I have everything I need.” He hoped his words rang with truth. He wasn’t really sure, but he did know what Savannah needed. More importantly, what she didn’t need. “Tomorrow’s my last day at the hospital. What I have to say won’t take a minute. Hurry up before Mrs. Henry calls the law.”
He heard a thud. If he had to guess what had made it, he’d say she’d lightly banged her head against the door. After a few seconds, he heard the chain jingle and saw the door open.
Savannah stood there in yoga pants, an oversized T-shirt that hung from her body, and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She didn’t have a speck of make-up on, nor did she need it.
Or maybe she did because when he looked closer he noticed dark circles beneath her eyes that used to not be there.
“You look tired. If I did this to you, I’m sorry.” More so than he’d ever be able to convey. The last thing he’d ever want was to hurt Savannah, but wasn’t that part of the problem? He always hurt those he got close to.
“You didn’t. I did it to myself.”
He wasn’t sure he understood what she meant, but she stepped aside to let him enter the apartment. He didn’t hesitate to enter, for fear she might change her mind.
She shut the door, but made no move to go further into the apartment, just stood near the door as if she might fling it open and tell him to leave at any moment.
“I’m leaving for Nashville tomorrow after work. I felt I should come by before I left.”
“You owe me nothing.” Something on her face said she didn’t believe that.
Maybe he didn’t either and that was why he was there.
“You and I had a good time together. I’m sorry we ended under less than ideal circumstances.”
Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth.
“I brought you this.” He held out the vase. “You always admired it.”
“You’ll understand if I refuse.”
Yeah, maybe he did understand. Still, he wanted her to have it. What she did with it after he was gone was up to her, even if it was to smash it into a thousand pieces.
“Then I guess you can toss it after I leave. There are two tickets to go see that band you like stuck inside. Maybe you can take Chrissie or whomever you replace me with.” He moved over to a shelf and set it down in an open spot, started to turn back toward her, then realized why the spot was open.
Because the photo of them at Lookout Mountain was gone.
He must have lingered long enough that she realized what he was staring at, because she moved from the door and came to stand next to him.
