Chapter Eight

Taylor

 

 

Mitchell greeted me at the office with a large cup of coffee and a smile. He was a thoughtful man, much different than my old boss in New York. It was a nice change, and even though I still missed the city, there were certain perks to being on the island. Like Elijah.

“Is there anything you need?” Mitchell asked, his stress sounding in his voice. I knew he had a busy day.  All his days had been busy since his last partner left. He’d tossed me a decent load of the patients to start, but I knew it wasn’t even close to half.

“I’m settling in fine. Go handle your day, and if you need me, please let me know. That’s what I’m here for,” I smiled.

“You really are a lifesaver,” he exclaimed, and then rushed down the hall to his office.

I had an hour before my first patient, so I made a couple trips to my car, carrying in boxes of items to warm up my office. A brightly colored floor lamp, a couple throw pillows for the large cushiony chair, and two large pictures of the Hawaiian landscape for the walls. The room was still not as welcoming as I would like it to be, but it was close enough. I set out a picture of my dad and brother on my desk, both wearing their Navy uniforms for a benefit they’d attended together.

I was still trying to catch my breath from the last trip to my car when the phone rang. It was the secretary announcing Milton’s arrival. “Send him back,” I said quickly, and took a deep breath. I stepped out of my office and into the hall to greet Milton as he arrived. He was hunched over, walking slowly, and his body looked so frail that a good wind would knock him over.

He smiled up at me as he made it to my door. “Good to meet you, Milton. I’m Taylor Madden,” I introduced myself.

“You’re prettier than Mitchell,” he chuckled as he worked on entering the office.

I moved a small table from his path and took his cane as he sat down in the chair. He was so thin, so frail, that the cushions nearly swallowed him. “I would like to spend the day just getting to know you, if that’s okay,” I informed him as I took my seat at my desk.

He was a sweet old man, and he didn’t waste any time starting off telling me how he spent his life in the Navy. I told him my dad had served, and even my brother, which seemed to please him. He opened up easily enough, but it was obvious he was holding back. His two kids were married with families and lived in the States, one in California, the other in New York. “Have you thought about moving closer to them?” I asked, curious as to what his hold was to stay on the islands.

“My wife is buried here, and I promised her I wouldn’t leave her,” he said sadly. “Besides, the kids have their own lives. I don’t want to burden them,” he added.

It was obvious while listening to him that he had been self-sufficient all his life. He had been strong, independent, and never had to ask for help. That part of his personality was the battle he fought every day, because he was no longer that man.

“Do you need any help through the day, with the house, or with caring for yourself?” I was required to ask, but hated to.

“No. I can get along just fine,” he insisted, even though I knew that wasn’t true.

I’d read through his file, and Mitchell had scraped the surface of the man’s depression, but I knew there was much more to uncover.

Milton reminded me of my dad, stubborn and strong. I imagined he probably felt the same need to protect me from any burden he may have caused by reaching out for help. He knew I was happy in New York, just like Milton knew his kids were happy with their families. I wondered if my dad had gone through the same bouts of depression as Milton, and if he’d killed himself to somehow never become a burden. I’d have given anything to have my dad reach out to me instead of killing himself, but listening to Milton, I was learning how devastating it is for a man of such strength and character to grow old and feeble.

“I think I’ll like talking to you,” Milton said as I showed him out. I smiled and gently patted his back.

Once he left, I sat back in my chair, reflecting of how the visit had gone. I hoped that maybe I’d have something to offer old Milton, because I worried he was running out of reasons to live.

By the end of the day, I’d met five very interesting people and each with their own unique set of problems. I was afraid when I left New York that I would become bored with my career. I mean, what kind of problems could people have living in paradise? I chuckled to myself as I realized I’d lived here most of my life, and I had plenty of problems. My patients in New York were certainly challenging, but these patients seemed to have more realistic problems versus the New York patients. In New York, I had a woman who feared aluminum foil, and a man who had to wash his hands every time he farted. The place was so busy, so crowded, that it seemed that people were creating problems just to be different, to stand out.

Mitchell was impressed that I’d managed to get through the day, and even more impressed when I told him I could handle a few more patients each day to help out. I left feeling productive, satisfied, and strangely chipper. I’d never left my New York office feeling so good.

I stopped at Madison’s bakery on the way home, excited to tell her about my day. I was relieved when I walked inside the place was fairly empty, and she wasn’t busy. “Hey, Taylor,” she waved me over to the counter. She was arranging the donuts baked that day in the discount bin for the evening customers who were always looking for a deal. She laughed about it, saying they actually made her more money than the morning crowd.

“How was your first day?” she asked.

“It was actually quite amazing,” I admitted, smiling without effort. I may have been reluctant to come here, but I was starting to think I’d enjoy spending some time on the island.

“I’m so glad, so maybe you’ll stay,” she hinted.

“Maybe,” I smiled, pointing to one of the glazed donuts she was placing in the discount tray. She chuckled as she reached in and handed it to me over the counter. “So, you really don’t want to give Johnny another shot?” she questioned.

“He’s really not my type,” I squinted as I spoke.

“And, what is your type?” she asked playfully.

“Tall, dark, and handsome, a gentleman, one who listens, who makes me laugh, and doesn’t try to get in my pants on the first date,” I gushed while my cheeks turned hot and most likely, pink.

“Sounds like your describing someone in particular,” she winked.

My cheeks turned even hotter as I tried to avoid eye contact. “Oh my God, spill it,” she insisted.

Even though we hadn’t seen each other in years, it was like we’d never been apart. She still could read me better than anyone else, or maybe I was just too much of an open book. I giggled, trying to keep a straight face while she stared at me intensely. “It’s nothing. I just ran into an old friend,” I explained.

“And,” she urged for more details.

“We had dinner, and it was nice to catch up,” I stated.

“Uh huh, so you had a date?” Madison’s eyes lit up with excitement and curiosity.

“It wasn’t a date,” I insisted.

“Did you wear your hair down?” Madison probed.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks burning.

“So, who was this tall, dark, and handsome man?” she pressured me with her eyes more than her tone.

“Elijah Grant,” I boasted proudly.

Madison knew Elijah. He was just a year ahead of us in school, and while she had a huge crush on my brother, Elijah was the name I doodled in my notebooks while daydreaming about being his girl. “Really?” her eyes widened.

I bit my bottom lip and fought back a squeal as she rushed around to the front of the counter. She gripped my arm, pulling me towards a table in the back of the shop. “Tell me everything,” she insisted.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I giggled.

“Did he kiss you?” she asked.

“No!” I exclaimed.

I did want him too. For a moment, when we were on my porch, I thought he would, but he didn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was just two friends catching up. He’s an old friend of my brother, a Navy brother, and a friend of the family,” I explained, knowing that Madison wasn’t buying any of it.

“So, you just talked about Tommy all night?” she inquired, her eyes piercing into me as she spoke.

“No. He actually didn’t come up at all,” I recalled. That was strange. Maybe it was a date.

“You need to quit thinking with your therapist brain and start thinking with your woman brain,” Madison teased.

“What does that mean?” I questioned.

“You’re always trying to analyze everything and everyone. You’ve done it since we were kids; no wonder you’re a therapist,” she giggled. “Be a woman, give into your needs, and quit overthinking everything,” she added firmly.

She was right. I did do that. I tried to hold back my giggle, but one escaped as my cheeks began to roast.

“He’s only here for a month, to sell his father’s house,” I argued.

“So what? You’ve had a crush on this guy since high school; you’re telling me you wouldn’t like to have him bend you over the table and fuck you right here and now?” she laughed.

My cheeks were on fire with embarrassment. “You’re so bad,” I whispered.

Madison nodded proudly. “There’s nothing wrong with getting what you want. If he’s leaving in a month, then you don’t have much time,” she howled.

Electricity shot through my body, swelling my pussy against the silk of my panties at the thought of Elijah taking me, fucking me. “Oh God,” I gushed, letting loose a series of nervous giggles. She was right. I did want Elijah to take me, but I still wasn’t sure I could let loose enough to make it happen.