AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Amanda nodded, appreciating Dr. Bloom knew her enough to understand.
“I know having Lydia as a neighbor could be a lot,” Dr. Bloom changed the subject. “But she was lucky she had you looking in on her.”
“I’m gonna miss her now that she’s moving in with her niece,” Amanda said. “Carmen has been helping her pack these past few days.”
“It’s for the best,” Dr. Bloom said, patting her hand. “Well, my dear, you’re doing very well. I hope not to see you in this office again until your annual physical.”
“But you’ll come by Sanctuary sometime?” she asked, getting up.
“Of course.” Dr. Bloom said as they walked out of the room. “And thank you for the strawberry rhubarb pie.”
“I know it’s your favorite, and it’s in season.” Amanda said. “Thank you, Dr. Bloom.”
“Stay well, dear.”
He waved her on with a warm smile.
Amanda moved toward the reception area when she heard a familiar drawl coming from the open staff area where two other examination rooms were located. She looked up only to glimpse Gene in his white coat with a stethoscope around his neck, entering room four.
“Hi, Victor. I’m Dr. Rowland. I heard you have the sniffles,”
She heard him greeting a boy of four years sitting on the examination table before the door completely shut.
Amanda let out a breath she’d unconsciously held and felt the void inside her chest expanding. Dr. Bloom told her she was doing well. And yes, all was well with life. Work had resumed to normal; baking had provided her with the escape she needed. Volunteering at the shelter always filled her heart. She even agreed to sub-coach the pee-wee girls’ soccer team on Saturday mornings until the end of the school year. She should feel fulfilled.
But why do I feel so hollow without him?
twenty-eight
“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Bloom,” Gene told his host. “That Jambalaya was tasty.”
Susan Bloom had served the rice dish cooked with tomatoes, jumbo shrimp and andouille sausage that was packed with flavor and the right amount of spice. He hadn’t minded a second helping at all.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Gene.” Susan beamed. “I got the recipe when Malcolm and I vacationed in New Orleans last October for our anniversary.”
“Which anniversary was it?” he politely inquired.
“Thirty-seventh,” Dr. Bloom answered. He placed a cup of decaf coffee in front of Gene and sat back down to enjoy while waiting for his wife to pass the dessert.
“You’ve been married for thirty-seven years?”
“Yes, we married during my residency and Susan was a full-time registered nurse.”
Gene couldn’t wrap his head around being in a relationship right after graduating from med-school and deep into residency, let alone full on getting married. He’d wanted to finish his program early, so he’d dedicated any time he had to studying, practical work, and everything else in between to reach that goal. Though he knew that pace had ultimately led to his burnout, he didn’t regret it. Here he was now at thirty-one, ready for his next jump.
If only he could decide what his next step was.
“How did you do it?” Gene looked at the Blooms with an inquiring smile. “I barely managed to go on a date in my first year of residency.”
“Oh, it wasn’t without effort. My mother and I did all the planning, of course,” Susan said. “It was a small, intimate wedding. We didn’t need a big party. We just wanted to start our lives together.”
“For a while, we were like two ships passing in the night,” Dr. Bloom said. “Though the world was different thirty-seven years ago, it was still tough, but we knew it wouldn’t be like that forever. Even when we only saw each other for a few hours a day, and sometimes mere stolen minutes, we looked forward to those moments every second we spent away from each other.”
Susan laughed and patted her husband’s arm. “Sure did, but don’t get him wrong. We also fought like cats and dogs sometimes. When you’re exhausted, feelings run high. There were times when we felt like giving up.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, we didn’t.” Dr. Bloom smiled as he squeezed his wife’s hand. “Every time I felt I was drifting—because of work stress or a heated argument—I remembered Susan wasn’t just a ship passing me by. She was the tugboat that pulled me back into port.”
