Wishing Still . . .

Wishing

Still…

Amy Reynolds Black

AuthorHouse™ LLC

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

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Phone: 1-800-839-8640

©

2013 by Amy Reynolds Black. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/12/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-7665-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-7664-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-7663-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013912677

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This book is printed on acid-free paper.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

One more day,

One more time,

One more sunset,

Maybe I’d be satisfied,

But then again,

I know what it would do,

Leave me wishing still,

For one more day with you.

Diamond Rio © 2001

Chapter 1

It was November, her skin was itchy and flaky—like every other winter (Bless her heart! She got her Daddy’s bad skin!). She’d seen three dermatologists in six years who only wanted to remove the mole under her lip (her beauty mark) and send her to buy creams and lotions, and nothing ever worked. She still felt itchy all over and scratching in her sleep left her skin bleeding! A woman in her office recommended another doctor, and she felt fortunate to get an appointment for just two days later!

The office was modest—a bit crowded—the staff was pleasant. She filled out paperwork and was soon shown into a room and given a gown to wear for the exam. She looked at diplomas, giant posters of skin’s various layers, hair follicles and roots, examples of itchy, scaly places (like hers).

A knock on the door and a tall man with a pleasant voice and a pleasant face wearing a lab coat walked in saying, Hello! I’m Dr. Hartmann… and their eyes met and the world stopped turning and there was an immediate, mutual (favorable) reaction to each other.

They both recovered quickly and he walked toward her, extending his hand. Taking his hand she said, Hi, Doctor Hartmann, I’m Julia Haynes. She was sitting on the side of the examining table with her legs crossed. More pleasantries, who referred you? etc. She had already fallen in love with his voice.

He looked quickly through the new chart that had been prepared on her arrival.

So, you have unhappy skin—let’s take a look.

With that he sat down on a rolling stool just in front of her. He flipped the magnifying glass down on the light band around his head and moved the stool closer to her for a better look, and when he did, his inner thigh came into contact with the toe of her shoe—her legs being crossed as she perched on the elevated examining table. Her immediate reaction was to pull her foot away, but he made no effort to move back or reposition the stool—or his thigh—so she simply let the toe of her shoe slip back to its original place on his inner thigh.

She thought she might faint, might be asked to leave, might cause him to bring in a nurse for the balance of the exam…

Instead, after several more moments examining her skin, he stood up, moving the stool out of the way, saying,

Well, this is certainly a hard case—I’ll be back, and walked out closing the door behind him.

She could hardly control the grin that was pulling at her lips. Nor could she control the deep breaths she was taking to clear her head and slow her heart rate! She thought of the scene in Gone with the Wind the morning after Rhett carried Scarlett up the staircase and Scarlett woke in bed smiling and singing—she knew just how Scarlett felt!

It was the most incredible experience she had ever… experienced!

Totally without fear of the future or regret of what had obviously just transpired between them, she smiled and thought,

One of these days I’m going to know what ‘that’s’ like…

Dr. Hartmann took a long time returning, and when he did, he prescribed weeks of ultra-violet treatments to encourage her epidermis to heal as the winter weather and dry indoor heat battled her skin.

She never missed a session.

And, without fail, neither did Dr. Hartmann! At some point during her 20 minutes of artificial sunlight, the door to the UV chamber would open and he would appear in sun-goggles, like the ones she was wearing, to see how she was doing, and they would chat for a while. She was slim (bordering on skinny) and not at all ashamed to be seen in just bra and panties—of course, the bras and panties were carefully selected on the morning of her treatments—just in case…

And they continued with brief chats—and just enough of a suggestion that there would be other times for them ahead—for several months until—rather abruptly—she was deemed as cured as you can be and dismissed by her physician in early spring (perhaps her insurance payments ran out?). He had told her he had bought another office that was being customized for his practice, and he said he’d want her to see it when it was ready. She told him she would do that and walked out of the office.

She was disappointed, but not disheartened. There was more there… for both of them… when the time was right. She just knew it.

Work was busy for Julia, hiring and training a new employee, attending a regional company meeting with her counterparts from other offices and attending training classes. It was an enjoyable get-away—she liked Dallas, had trained there for several weeks in Anne’s office before her promotion to her new job, and it was good to spend time with those work friends again.

And her political volunteer work kept her out of the house (less exposure to Doug’s pouting!) when she wasn’t at work.

June and July were consumed by constant weekend trips home watching her grandmother slowly dying of colon cancer—undiagnosed until it was too late.

Julia and her sister, Lydia, drove the 400 miles almost every weekend to spend time with their parents and grandmother. Ma-maw was especially close to Julia—she being the first granddaughter, and before Ma-Maw’s illness was discovered, she and Julia spent fun afternoons talking of their great loves! Grandmother’s was a big Irish man with red hair, and oooohhhh, he was so handsome and strong! But, he drank, and I just couldn’t marry him, she would confide, shaking her head in disapproval and disappointment.

One week after a false alarm, the girls were summoned back for their Grandmother’s funeral. Julia and Lydia drove up together for the funeral. Many people were there—Ma-maw was much-loved and respected.

Most likely due to the stress of her Grandmother’s death and of her own impending divorce, Julia came down with another case of dermatitis. Dr. Hartmann would just have to get over it (whatever it had been that kept him too busy to contact her—he had promised to call her when the new office was ready!).

She called to make the appointment and was informed that the office was still in the old location.

She arrived on time, and was shown into an examining room—a different one from the first visit. She waited for several minutes, then heard Dr. Hartmann take the chart from the plastic holder next to the door.

A brief pause and the door opened—his crooked grin/smile appeared and he closed the door behind him. She smiled back and said, Gee, I thought you’d be in the new office by now.

Don’t start with me… he said, sounding amazingly like a sniping couple who had been together forEVER and were used to such needling. Julia stifled a laugh, but couldn’t keep from grinning as he launched into an animated rant about contractors, codes, uncooperative management, sign regulations and power outlets! They were both grinning by then, and his face softened and he said,

It’s good to see you again.

It’s good to see you, too… but, this ‘rash’ is what I want you to see.

He put on his glasses, turned on the light on his head-band, looked at the area she had indicated, then moved back grabbing his heart and said,

OH! I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE!!!!

She was startled! Her eyes widened, then his, then her mouth opened as if to ask, WHAT?

And then he got that crooked grin on his face and they both laughed.

I think it’s just stress, my grandmother died a few weeks ago…

I’m sorry to hear that. You were close to her?

"Yes. Since I was born! It was colon cancer—too far advanced, and at 86 she couldn’t have survived the surgery. She’s my biggest loss—I really miss her.

Julia thought that might be the moment, but Tom stood up and walked to the door, OK, back to the hydrocortisone for a couple of weeks—that should clear it up. I’ll leave a prescription at the desk

Thanks, she said smiling—trying to hide her disappointment. He turned back, before closing the door.

We should be in the new office in a few months, I want you to see it.

Just let me know when!

I will. Take care.

You, too.

Julia was a little disappointed, wondered if perhaps she had been wrong about their mutual attraction, but still, it seemed there had been things left unsaid between them, yet heard.

So the summer drifted into fall and Julia’s divorce was filed, and her job and her volunteer work for the local political party kept her busy. Late in the summer she found an apartment convenient to her office—no freeway commute—and it was becoming available just when she would be moving out of the house that she and Doug had bought several years before.

They had already divided what furnishings they wanted and she would be very glad to be out of the house, but she couldn’t move until the local election was over and her appointment to the County Committee was confirmed.

Between work and politics, Julia’s calendar was quite full and would keep her busy and occupied into the fall. She didn’t know then just how busy her life was about to get… though she hoped…

Several weeks after Julia had last seen Dr. Hartmann, she returned from lunch to find a phone call slip in the center of her desk.

Dr. Hartmann called,

please return his call . . .

She looked at the time on the slip and then at her watch. She had just missed the call. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking… better to take some time, not be too anxious… so she took a deep breath, went through other messages and returned a call.

After a reasonable amount of time, her hands ALMOST no longer shaking, she dialed the number.

Doctor Hartmann’s Office.

Yes, Julia Haynes returning his call.

Yes, Mrs. Haynes, I’ll put you through to him.

Her heart was pounding, and in less than a minute the phone was picked up and, This is Doctor Hartmann…

Hey, Tom! Julia—I just got the message you called. (this was the time to drop the Dr. Hartmann thing and get personal).

Heeyyy! His voice softened when he heard her voice, Thanks for calling me back, and in a casual, smiling, tone, What are you doing?

I’m WORKING. What are you doing? She was grinning.

I’m sitting in my NEW OFFICE, looking out my NEW WINDOW, and talking to you!

Oh, that’s great! You finally got into the new office!

Yep! And I want you to come by to see it. How about this afternoon—things usually slow down here about 4:00 or 4:30.

I can probably get away by then.

Good. See you then.

She left work early on the pretense of stopping at the post office—no one really cared—and drove the few blocks to Tom’s office. It was on the second floor of a new building—she took the stairs and walked down the hall to the office entrance. All new everything—chairs, tables, lamps, carpet, artwork—all tastefully done. The receptionist recognized her and greeted her, and Julia said,

Wow! This is quite an improvement, isn’t it?

The receptionist grinned and said, I’ll say! We’re not falling over each other anymore, and there’s plenty of room for files and supplies! Mrs. Haynes, did you have an appointment?

No, Doctor Hartmann just wanted me to see the new office—although I’m going to need some more UV treatments now that the weather is getting cooler and my skin itchy-er!

Well, just let us know when and we’ll get you in!

Thanks!

I’ll tell the Doctor you’re here.

Julia walked around looking at the art work and other items. It was well done, functional, and had good ambience.

The receptionist came back and opened the door, Mrs. Haynes, come on back, he isn’t with a patient just now.

Thank you!

She followed the receptionist down the hall, looking at the examining rooms and the UVA room as they went by. At the end of the hall, the receptionist knocked on the door and she heard Tom reply, Yes. The receptionist opened the door and announced,

Mrs. Haynes to see you, Doctor.

He stood up, thanked the receptionist and welcomed Julia in. As the receptionist closed the door Julia was saying how wonderful everything was—the colors, furniture, carpet—all the windows, etc. Tom was beaming and explaining how everything was well thought-out and came out even better than he had expected, and thanks for coming by to see it, he moved toward her saying, I’ll give you the full tour…

Then he reached for her waist and pulled her to him gently, but earnestly, and kissed her, she completed the embrace reaching up to put her arm around his neck and letting her purse drop to the floor as he pulled her closer. She was enveloped in his arms, his smell, his breath, his warmth, his soft, full lips. His body felt so good, so right pressing into hers, and she yielded to him, as he pulled her gently into his body… it was such an exquisite feeling—Julia thought she might faint from the intense emotion she was experiencing. Then, after what seemed like an eternity and still not time enough, they drew back from each others’ lips just to catch their breath, each placing a hand on his/her heart, and looking into each other’s eyes knowing their lives—everything—had just changed forever.

And at that moment one of the nurses knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. The nurse immediately knew that had been the WRONG thing to do. She apologized, but Tom remained composed, saying,

No need, I was just going to give Julia a tour of our new office. Is that something I need to sign? And the nurse handed him a chart with a prescription for him to sign.

When the nurse left, Tom and Julia followed her out the door and he began to point out the various rooms, and how they were specially designed—Julia didn’t really hear much of it, but would nod in agreement or ask a question, in a fog, listening to her heart still beating too fast.

She went to sleep that night re-living the kiss, the closeness, his touch, his body pressed into hers, how perfectly they matched, his smell—Neutragena soap? She was weak with emotions she had never felt before. She was at once exhilarated and terrified.

The next day Julia’s head was still full of the afternoon before; she felt faint whenever she brought those memories to mind. It was just the next step in what she had always thought would be a new direction in her life—but what direction? It didn’t matter—she would follow it for as long as she could.

The receptionist put a call through to her, Julia, Doctor Hartmann on line 2 for you.

Thanks, Carol.

Hello!

What was that last night?

She breathed a small laugh, "I’m not sure… but, whatever it was, it was awesome!

Julia, can you meet me at the office tomorrow evening? I’ll make sure everyone is gone—I have a meeting later, no point in going home first, so I think it will work out. Maybe we can find answers to some of these questions…

That works for me—I really want to see you again soon.

Is 5:15 OK—I’ll get everyone out by 5:00. I’ll leave the back door unlocked.

OK, see you then. Julia’s hands were shaking and her head was swimming, and there was just the edge of disbelief in all of it. Was their relationship finally going to be defined? She was excited and apprehensive at the same time.

Julia thought the day would never end. After work she brushed her teeth and freshened her make-up. On her way to Tom’s office she stopped at the liquor store for a split of chilled champagne and 2 plastic glasses.

Well, this was supposed to be a fun celebration, right? She almost called it all off—if ONLY she didn’t have to leave for the meeting after… Oh, my gosh! What will I LOOK like? I hope I have time to repair my make-up! I must be crazy! What was I thinking? Well, duh! I was thinking this is what I’ve been wanting for a year now! She got to the office building, parked, and used the back entry and stairs; the back office door was unlocked as he said it would be, and she stage-whispered a hello? as she approached his office. Tom stood up behind his desk and walked toward her—he was beaming—Julia was pretty sure she was, too. No lab coat this time, just khaki slacks and light blue shirt. She liked that look! He hugged her and kissed her softly, but earnestly.

I’ll go lock the door, he said, still holding her.

I locked it, she said, and Tom grinned.

I brought us a little something, she said, raising the champagne and glasses. Tom grinned and expressed his appreciation and surprise.

She opened the bottle and poured two glasses. As she did, she shifted her eyes up to his and said,

Sooo, what took you so long?

He grinned, and looking directly into her eyes, unabashedly said,

I had to get rid of the previous ‘you’.

She nodded, knowingly, saying, Ohh…

They didn’t waste any time—both were on the clock to be other places, but this was going to be the test after more than a year of teases and getting used to each other.

I don’t know, Tom said, looking around the office, then to her the desk or the floor?

Julia took a sip of her champagne, her brow knit in thought for a moment, then said,

Hmm. I don’t think I will fall off of the floor… looking up at him from under her eyelashes. He laughed and agreed.

It was enjoyable, but the circumstances made it not what they felt they were capable of—they both knew they’d try again. And maybe even again, maybe it would become a habit with them! Of course, the kiss earlier in the week was quite an act to follow!

They pilllow-talked for a while, lying on the floor, facing each other, propped up on their elbows, then both had to leave for their meetings.

As they hugged good-by, Tom said, I’ll call you tomorrow.

Good. And she walked down the stairs, hearing him lock the door behind her, got into her car and drove to the home of one of the Association members where the candidates would be speaking.

When she arrived she was surprised to see the local TV station there—with cameras, sound equipment, etc. And then she had to grin—this evening (and all the evening meant to her) would be forever preserved by the media!

She opened the meeting, introduced their guests to the Association members and others in the audience, and after a short business meeting, turned the floor over to their guests—the candidates.

She hoped Tom would be watching the 10 o-clock news!

True to his word, Tom called mid-morning the next day and they had a pleasant talk about their shared experience the night before.

By the way, did you happen to watch the Channel 5 news last night at 10:00? She had to ask.

No, I didn’t, I just wanted to get to bed early. Why?

I was on it.

WHAT???? There was a touch of terror in his voice.

Our political group invited the mayoral candidates to speak, and the press was all over the place.

Did you see it when you got home? She could hear relief and amusement in his voice.

Yep—I had a stupid grin on my face the whole time—didn’t hear a word! Tom laughed out loud at that and kept saying he was sorry he had missed it.

Well, there’s a picture in this morning’s paper if you want to see the stupid grin…

I gotta go buy a paper!

I gotta go to work! You have a good day, Tom.

You, too, Julz. I’ll call you soon.

Chapter 2

The receptionist put his call through to her.

Hello, Tom!

Hiiiiii! How are you? I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, I just stay busy with the boys and the Scouts and cleaning out the dog run…

That’s OK. I don’t mind losing out to kids and dogs. They both laughed.

I think I’m going to be free Thursday night—Christine is taking the boys to a play or something; I thought maybe we could get together again…

I’d like that!

Same place, same time OK with you?

Welllllll, I think I have a better plan, Julia paused and mused about what might be going through his mind, she had not yet told him about her apartment.

I finally moved into my apartment this weekend—the elections were over and I was free to move out of my district. How about MY place this time—a LOT more comfortable than the floor in your office!

What? Tom said weakly, somewhat in disbelief, and she could almost see the expression on his face—the corner of his mouth starting to turn up a bit in a half grin. And she was thoroughly enjoying the tease.

Yeah, we got bonuses at work a couple of months ago, I found this apartment—knowing I’d be moving out of the house now—and I’ve been renting it to a friend until I was ready to move in.

Where is this apartment?

A couple of blocks from your office.

Silence. You’re not messing with me… ?

No! she laughed. Come by this evening when you leave work.

Julia gave him the directions to her apartment; they said their good-bys and hung up. She was trying to control a grin; Tom was trying to control an erection.

She had barely gotten home and brushed her teeth before there was a knock on her door—the FIRST knock on her OWN new door.

Welcome! She had a big grin on her face now as she opened the door and waved her arm toward the room; Tom’s face was a mixture of pure joy and total disbelief. He put his arms around her and hugged her, rocking back and forth and looking over her shoulder at her things—furniture, artwork, photos.

Tom left one arm around her shoulders and said, Show me around.

He reminded Julia of a kid with a new toy, and that made her grin even more.

Sure! Well, this is the living room—mostly the things my Grandmother left me, a small kitchen, dining area, the bath, this is the second bedroom…

Tom stopped at that, looking into the room.

There’s a mattress on the floor, and men’s clothes, he said it as though she didn’t know there were men’s clothes in her apartment, and looked at her with a hint of resentment and a raised eyebrow.

Yes, right, that’s Tony’s stuff. He works with me and was using this to crash when he had late meetings or appointments in the area—he lives across the river. AND, he paid a bit of the rent while he was using it—that helped.

Tom, though not completely convinced, let it go with her explanation.

They walked a few steps down the hall.

And THIS is MY room! She stood aside, leaning against the door frame, to let him walk into the room.

Oh, oh, oh… a brass bed… He was back to serious grinning again, dropping his arm from around her shoulder and slowly walking toward the bed.

Yeah, Doug and I found that at an antique store in Destin YEARS ago when we were vacationing there. We took turns choosing items when we split everything up for the divorce. He chose first—the antique desk—then I picked this! I think that worked out quite well, she said that with a devilish look, don’t you?

Tom grinned and said, I do indeed, then he just gave her the biggest hug and lifted her off her feet and threw her on the brass bed and flopping down beside her, all in one motion, pulled her to him and kissed her—he was still grinning at his amazing good fortune.

You DO like it! she said with eyes wide, and they both laughed.

Oh, I want to just stay right here! he said. She slid off the bed and grabbed his hands, tugging him up and off the bed.

Uh-uh. I know it’s scout night—go!—scoot!

OK, Thursday, then…

Perfect! She said, smiling.

He hugged her and she pushed him out the door.

They both had huge grins on their faces as he walked to his car and she went back to the bedroom and flopped down on her back on the brass bed thinking what a wonderful gift she had been given!

Oh, no! . . . Well, bless his heart! Julia was grinning ear to ear—as she often did when Tom was telling her (mostly) true stories of his patients or himself.

How did you keep a straight face?

Well, he is such a good man, salt of the earth—I just wouldn’t have laughed or corrected him. Tom was sitting up against the pillows and headboard, Julia was lying on her side facing him, in the brass bed, her right leg across his thighs.

‘Hi-doe-cratis-one!’ Well, I’ll never be able to think of hydrocortisone again without thinking of your patient! You know, you should write a book about all this—you’re a wonderful story teller, and gifted with an ear for ‘accents and dialects’—really! You should do that!

"Well, as a matter of fact… I am writing a book, Tom said, unable to hide his enthusiasm, but pulling the sheet around to hide everything else, but I just can’t seem to get it together, and I have ideas, but I’m not sure how to put them into a book. I want it to be a book that will help people with their skin problems; there are some good medicines over-the-counter now that would take care of a lot of the things people come to see me about."

Julia sat up, too, facing him, not bothering to cover any part of herself with the sheet.

Wow! Sounds great! Totally worthwhile! I’d really like to help you with that, if I can. I can at least type—sort of. She wrinkled her nose.

Would you? Tell me, though, if you think the book is just not going to work—I really want it to be a good, down-to-earth book that people will buy!

Well, sure! I’m not going to let you make some terrible mistake!

I’ll pay you for your help, your time.

Darn right you will—I want a percentage of the royalties.

But if we only sell one book…

Hey, I need a new challenge; I’ve never ‘helped write a book’ before, and it sounds like fun, something new! Besides, I have PLENTY of spare time now! (having given up a ‘social life’ pending the divorce—until now, anyway! She thought, but didn’t say)

Well, read what I’ve done, then we’ll see—you be the judge.

Julia was expecting the knock on her door, and when she opened it Tom was standing there with a brief case in his hand and a grin on his face, and before she could even say hi, pushed his way inside, put the briefcase on her dining table, gave her a quick kiss, opened the briefcase, and pulled out stacks of typed paper, yellow pads full of handwritten notes and a cassette player.

OK, here it is—you said you wanted to take a look at what I’ve written—don’t be too harsh on me—I have really thin skin! He said as he handed her THE BOOK. His eyes were full of excitement about the project and Julia’s help with it, and a bit of anxiety, too. THE BOOK—as presented—was a collection of about 100 typed pages, with scribbles in the margins, X-outs, different colors of ink, and rife with margin notes and dog-eared pages with near-illegible notations posing questions in need of answers.

Great! I can’t wait to read it! I promise I’ll be gentle—but truthful, OK?

Now I’m scared…

Excuse me! We’re ‘partners,’ right?

Right.

We’re both on the same team, right?

Right!

OK, then. Let’s take a look.

Tom got a Coke from the refrigerator (he was well acquainted with the apartment and its accoutrements by now) and they sat down at her dining table and spread out the papers, notes, typed pages. Julia picked a stack of pages up at random and began to read. As she read to herself she would grin or make comments like wow! I didn’t know that! That’s funny! Tom got up and paced for a while. She continued to read.

After several minutes she put the papers down and, chin resting on her hand, looked up at him across the table and said earnestly,

This is REALLY good stuff, Tom. A look of relief and joy came across his face—in the form of a large grin.

Really? You’re not just saying that… ?

No, really. It’s great! It’s kinda ‘folksy,’ not ‘preachy,’ it’s written with humor for real people. This is gonna be good, she said, her head nodding approval.

Well, that’s just what I was going for. There’s a LOT to do yet—I’ve been working on this for a while and new over-the-counter drugs are coming on the market all the time—I want it to be current, up-to-date, easy to understand, and to give people the basics they need to identify some of these skin problems and know when it’s important to see a doctor and when they can treat themselves with medicines they can buy at the drugstore.

I think you’re ‘there!’ Julia said, nodding her head. That’s just what I get from reading this.

Julia and Tom spent most free time on THE BOOK—enjoying that time together, happy to be working on a project they both were enthused about. Of course, their intimacy grew, too. But that made it an almost complete package—a relationship, friendship and a business relationship they both enjoyed—and neither had with anyone else.

Julia was going to Tom’s office for tanning sessions again—the cold, dry air of winter and winter clothes made her skin itch, and she would scratch and make it even worse—patches of dry scaly skin! She scheduled 1-2 sessions a week for UVA/UVB treatments. Julia would often see Tom at some point during her visit, but not necessarily.

When he built the new office, Tom had provided small dressing rooms for his patients who were taking those treatments, and robes they could wear to and from the treatment room. It was brilliant! More comfortable for the patients and saved time by not having everyone change clothes in the UV room.

On this particular day, as Julia was walking from the