Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
She sighed. “You’re right. I’ll need to have an implant put in. When’s the soonest you can do that?”
I bit down on my lower lip. A habit I’d never been able to shake for when I had to deliver bad news. “Well, I’ll need to put in a bone graft first. That’s a simple enough procedure. Then we give it a few weeks to settle, and then we can put in an implant.”
“A few weeks?” She furrowed her brow and looked off to the side with a worried expression on her face.
“At least,” I said. “We’ll wait ten days, make sure the swelling has gone down completely. Then if everything looks all right, we can do the bone graft. Then another two to four weeks after that, the implant.”
“Just my luck.” She snapped her finger. “I was supposed to leave for Appalachia in two weeks.”
“That’s okay. We can do the procedures when you get back.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m supposed to hike the Appalachian Trail, the whole trail! It’s a six-month thing.”
“Six months. Wow!”
“So, the timing is perfect.” She beamed. “I’m forced to cancel. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Well,” I said, “we could always—”
“No,” she interrupted me wide-eyed. “There’s nothing I can do. Emergency dental surgery. I need a bone graft and an implant; I’ll just have to cancel.”
“I don’t understand. We do have other options.”
She put her hand on mine. “Honey, could you see me hiking in Appalachia? For six months?”
I admit, when she told me her plans, I was quite surprised. The pictures of her that frequently appeared on TV or in the society section of the papers generally had her in luxurious settings, donned in a splendid gown, champagne flute in hand with one hunk on her arm and several others trailing behind.
“Don’t you want to go?” I asked. “I mean, why did you plan to go if you didn’t really want to?”
She gave me a wry smile and pulled out her phone. She showed me a photo of a man: early to mid-thirties, sharp jawline colored with just the right amount of stubble, brown hair that fell to his shoulders, combed though still somewhat wild-looking, soft blue eyes, and full lips. He was a cross between Thor and Thor’s sexier twin.
“His name’s Devon,” she said, “and you can’t expect me to say no to him.”
I bit down on my lower lip. But this time, it wasn’t because I had bad news to give. “No, I can definitely see how it would be difficult to say no to the guy.”
She sighed and set her phone on her lap. “What can I do? I listen to one doctor and disappoint the other.”
I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brow. “I don’t follow.”
“Devin’s a doctor,” she said and pursed her lips.
“Oh.” I glanced back down at her phone, hoping to steal another glimpse of Doctor Dreamy, but the screen side was facing her hip.
“Devin runs a charity,” Mrs. Freedman continued, “bringing sorely needed medical equipment and care to towns in Appalachia.” She leaned in and whispered, “There’s a lot of poverty in that part of the country.”
That was no secret, but I nodded anyhow and listened attentively.
“So, I agreed to hike the trail, post pictures, write little blurbs about the experience for the donors to follow.”
“That sounds like—”
“Like something you would do,” she interrupted and gave me a wink and a smile. “I followed your trip through Nunavut last summer.”
I put a hand to my cheek to hide my blushing. I had no idea someone as prominent as Felicity Freedman would follow my little charity hike through the Canadian Arctic.
“In fact,” she said, affecting a tinge of annoyance, “I could blame you for giving me the bug to go off on this crazy adventure.”
“Me?” I said defensively.
She touched me lightly on the back of my hand. “I’m only teasing, sweetheart. What you did was spectacular, raising money and awareness for those poor Inuit communities. At least in Appalachia, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting frostbite.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Oh, poor Devin. How could I disappoint you?” She looked up at me and asked, “How am I ever going to get over disappointing such a fine man?”
Her phone beeped. She flipped it over and touched the screen. Her face lit up. “Justin!” She looked back up at me. “Never mind. I’ll get over it.”
I chuckled. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Mrs. Freedman. If you do want to go on this hike, you know, we can find another solution. I could put in—”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s for the best. I wouldn’t have lasted six months. Most people don’t.”
She hopped off the chair and smoothed out her shirt. I walked her to the door and opened it for her.
“I’ll make arrangements with the receptionist.” She stopped at the doorway, turned to me, and whispered, “What about the new lady working here?”