Page 93 of Sugar & Shadows

“Are those…?” I trailed, staring at her feet.

She smiled. “Limited-edition silver Thom Browne Brogues? Yes they are.” She turned one foot out, then in, giving me the full view. “You’ve got a good eye.”

“And you’ve got the best pair of shoes I’ve seen since I crossed the border into this state.”

Laughing, she held her hand out. “Always happy to meet another shoe girl. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I slid my palm against hers. “From my mother?”

Another laugh, though her eyes were kind and comforting, putting me at ease. She tossed her long braids over her shoulder and shook her head. “No. From various townsfolk. You’re a popular topic of conversation these days.”

I shrugged. Of course. “Glad to hear my reputation precedes me.”

Once she’d led me back to an exam room, she asked me all the standard questions. Then she stepped out so I could put on a gown.

Nerves fluttered through me. It had been a very long time since I’d been to a doctor’s office.

“How long have you been here?” I asked when she returned.

“I bought the practice from Dr. Peters when he retired.” She tilted her head in thought. “My partner Dr. Chao does pediatrics and I see the adults.”

“I’m sure Maplewood keeps you busy.”

“You have no idea. How did I ever think a small town would be quiet and peaceful?”

Sighing, I shifted on the exam table, making the paper crinkle. “I just moved back here from DC.”

“Oh, I know.” She arched both brows. “Prodigal daughter of Maplewood. Sought fame and political fortune on the mean streets of our nation’s capital. You’re brave, coming back to the small town that raised you.”

“You a Vermont girl?”

“Nope.” She put on latex gloves and then took my temperature with one of those head scanny things. “Mainer. Grew up in a small town called Timber Falls. My dad was the lone local doctor when I was a kid. My mom was a nurse. The two of them ran the only practice in town. I’ve always wanted to practice rural medicine, and trust me, Maplewood is Manhattan compared to where I grew up.”

I cringed. “You’re a better person than I am.”

Once she’d palpated my throat, examining my glands, she had me lie back. Then she prodded at my abdomen, questioning me about international travel and any new foods I’d been eating.

“Nah,” she went on. “I’m just a country girl. Despite my unquenchable need for designer footwear.”

“Online?” I asked, still trying to figure out how she got her hands on those.

“No. Went to med school in New York. I have a lot of friends who work in the fashion industry. I picked up my love for it there and go back a few times a year to get my fix.”

“You drive that far that often?”

She gestured for me to sit up and slid the blood pressure cuff on my arm. “Yes. It’s only four hours. I go for a long weekend, shop, go to a show, and get my ramen fix. Sure, Boston’s closer, but the shopping in New York is much better.”

I nodded. My mind wandered. In the grand scheme, I understood that New York wasn’t that far away. Hell, most of our tourists came from there. But I’d never considered just heading there for a weekend to shop and enjoy the culture. And I’d never once considered working there, though I didn’t know why.

My brain was in overdrive. There was no way I could stay in Vermont. But I had contacts in New York and could at least job hunt there when this little Vermont experiment was over.

As she continued her exam, I filled her in on the stomach bug that had inexplicably lasted for a month, noting the fatigue, the nausea, and the lightheadedness.

“Do you drink?”

“No. Not really.” I shook my head. “Normally, I drink socially, but I’ve only had alcohol once since I came back. My mom is in recovery, so when I visit, I rarely imbibe. And I’ve been feeling so sick that the idea hasn’t appealed to me anyway.”

“Smoke?”