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“Thanks, Dr. Mallory. I’ll wave at you.” She grinned, then added, “It still feels weird calling a lady ‘doctor.’ ”
They were several blocks from the clinic before Darcy broke the antagonistic silence with her daughter. “Well, you two certainly seemed chummy when we left.”
“She’s nice.”
Darcy snorted. “Clark Tackett thought so too, and look where that landed him. She’s nothing but trash. And trouble.”
Heather turned away to gaze out the window.
Most of Darcy’s criticism arose from jealousy. She hadn’t expected or wanted Lara Mallory to be so charming. She was cool and classy. Every subconscious gesture bespoke good breeding and social training. She was so damned tidy that she’d made Darcy feel like she needed a bath. She was slender as a reed, and probably had not an ounce of cellulite clinging to her thighs. Her hair was thick and healthy. Her seemingly poreless skin was taut. From a woman’s standpoint, there was a lot there to envy.
But what would a man, specifically Key Tackett, see in her? Her figure wasn’t voluptuous. She had a candid gaze, like a man’s. Or did her eyes assume a sultry mystery when she was with a lover?
After making up her mind to visit Lara Mallory, Darcy had been forced to wait a week before doing so. Heather and Tanner had provided her the perfect excuse, but then the Leonard kid had died and the town had been in upheaval. Everyone was watching Lara Mallory. Darcy decided it would be smart to wait until the dust had settled. She wanted an up-close and personal look at Dr. Mallory, but without the whole town knowing she was curious.
Was Lara Mallory Key’s new squeeze? Dammit, she’d come away as mystified as before. The doctor seemed too cool to appeal to Key’s lusty nature, but looks could be deceiving. And there was no acc
ounting for taste, particularly a taste for women, which she knew was unique to every man.
So all Darcy had to show for her meeting with Lara was Heather’s dewy-eyed admiration for the woman who might have snatched Key away from her. Not that she’d actually been in a position to claim ownership of him. He had picked her up in a bar and slept with her only once, but she believed that they had a future as lovers. Without the interference of another woman, it could happen. Lara Mallory might jinx it.
“Did y’all talk about me?” Darcy asked Heather peevishly. “I’ll bet you made me out to be a bitch.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“What did you say about me?”
“Nothing. Except general stuff.”
“Then what did you talk about that took so damn long?”
Heather sighed with adolescent resignation. “We talked about cheerleading and my periods and Tanner and becoming sexually active and stuff.”
“What did she say about you becoming sexually active?”
“That she didn’t make moral judgments.”
“At least she’s not a hypocrite. That’d be the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“I thought you’d probably hear a sermon against going on birth control pills at your age.”
“No,” Heather said wearily. “She only lectured about condoms.”
“Condoms?”
“Uh-huh. Mom, can I please have my phone back now?”
“What did the doctor say about condoms?”
Heather shot her a mutinous glare, then recited hurriedly, “That they’re still the best protection from disease and that if me and my friends are going to sleep with our boyfriends, we should always use them.”
“She told you to have a condom handy just in a case a date turned into sex?”
“Something like that,” Heather said, shrugging with unconcern. “Can I please have my phone back, Mommy? Please? And my car keys?”
A glimmer of an idea winked on inside Darcy’s head. She regarded it from all angles and decided it was worth saving and nurturing. Smiling and feeling more like her old self, she reached across the console and patted Heather’s knee.
