Acadian Waltz (3 page)

“Don’t have one.
I came with the ambulance,” I admitted. I turned and surveyed the waiting area.
“I’ll just call a cab.”

Dr. Blessing
eyed his stainless steel watch. “It’s almost two in the morning. You’ll never
get a cab here at this time of night.”

I began
rummaging through my purse for my cell phone. “I’d better call my stepfather
then. Maybe Lou could come and pick me up.”

“My shift ended
twenty minutes ago and I was about to get out of here myself,” Dr. Blessing
spoke up. “Where do you live? Maybe you could let me drive you home?”

“I couldn’t ask
you to do—”

He smiled,
silencing my protest. “Where do you live?” he asked again in a sultry voice.

“By the lake,
off Milne Avenue,” I answered, feeling a tweak of electricity travel up from my
stomach.

“What a
coincidence. I live out by the lake as well.” Dr. Blessing’s smile grew,
showing his perfectly straight white teeth. “If you don’t mind waiting a few
minutes, I could drive you home.” His smile quickly fell and he cleared his
throat. “That is, if you don’t think that would be too forward of me?”

“I think that
would be just fine, Dr. Blessing,” I assured him with a flirty grin.

His smile
returned, deepening his five o’clock shadow. “In that case you will have to
call me John.”

*     *     *

Forty-five
minutes later, John and I were headed outside of the city in his used but very
clean dark blue BMW M3. I kept searching for topics of conversation, trying
desperately to avoid those awkward silences that often creep into every nervous
conversation.

“Where are you
from?” I inquired.

“I’m from
Dallas. My folks and my sister still live there. I go home from time to time,
but not as much as I should. My residency has kept me busy over the past few
years, but this is my last year at University Hospital.”

“What are you
going to do when you finish your residency?”

“I’ve had an
offer from Southwestern University in Dallas to do a fellowship. Then there are
the numerous emergency room staffing companies that I could work for, make my
own schedule and so forth, but I feel I would like to stay in one hospital and
not hop around. My mother wants me to come back to Dallas, but….” He shrugged.

“You don’t sound
too enthused about going back home,” I surmised as I observed his strong
profile.

“Let’s just say
my mother wants me home, but my father has never forgiven me for going into
medicine.”

“What father
doesn’t want a doctor for a son?” I asked in amazement.

“The kind that
has a family business to pass on.” He shifted down the car at a stoplight and
turned his eyes to me. “My father has a geological survey company and works for
a lot of the oil companies. My sister is a geologist and works with him, but
that was never good enough for Dad. He wanted his son to take over the company,
not his daughter.”

“What does your
sister think about all of that?”

“Nancy?” He
sighed and rolled his head back. “Not only did she study geology to please my
dad, she studied law to please my mother. Mom was an attorney before she
married my father. So, my poor sister has taken on the brunt of both my
parents’ expectations. I, on the other hand, have always done the complete
opposite of what they wanted.”

“At least you’re
a doctor.” I shook my head. “My mother’s only hope for me is that I marry and
have the right house in the right neighborhood with the right friends, and the
perfect two point two kids.”

“Yeah, my mother
wanted that for my sister.” He put the car into gear and started down the road
ahead.

“How did your
sister deal with it?”

“Well, she did
get married, have the kids and the house, the whole pretty picture. Until Phil,
her ex-husband, ran off with his secretary, leaving Nancy pregnant and poor.
The whole divorce kind of cured my sister of my parents’ delusions. She leads
her own life now, not my mother’s.”

“It seems you
lead your own life as well, John.”

“To a point, but
every now and then I hear my father’s voice in my head, or worse my mother’s
voice, egging me on to be what they want. I’m not as free as my sister, but
then again, I’m in New Orleans. I guess that’s the real reason I don’t want to
go home. I can live my life here.”

John Blessing
expertly maneuvered his German machine through the slopes and around the
numerous potholes that had plagued every city street since Katrina. He was
still wearing his green scrubs with “Property of University Hospital” printed
all over them, along with his grungy white coat. Identification tags hung from
his lapel, while assorted pens, a stethoscope, and papers crowded his coat
pockets. On the waist of his green scrub pants was clipped a black beeper.

“Your parents
sound just like my mother. I guess that’s why I became a physical therapist,
because it’s somewhere between a doctor and housewife.”

“You’re a
physical therapist?” John’s eyes brightened, as he looked me over with renewed
interest.

“At Uptown
Hospital. I manage the total joint replacement program.”

“Really? I did a
few rotations through there a year ago. A shame we never ran into each other.” He
turned down my street.

“Well, it’s a
big place. I’m one block up on the right,” I said, pointing to my home up
ahead. “The little yellow cottage,” I added.

“When I was at
Uptown Hospital I used to eat at this great little café around the corner…what
was it called?”

“Lucifer’s. I
know it well.”

He parked the
car in front of my raised, single story home. “Why don’t you and I go there
this Saturday night? We can have dinner and perhaps head to the French Quarter
after for some music.”

“All right. That
sounds like fun, John,” I commented, trying to sound casual and not desperate.

“Good.” He
pulled out a pen and piece of paper from his coat pocket. “Write down your
number for me, and I’ll call you so we can work out a time.”

I wrote down my
cell number, and when I handed the paper back to him, our hands touched. The
shock of his cool skin against mine made me shiver. Hoping to hide my blushing
cheeks, I reached for the door handle.

“Saturday night
then, Nora Kehoe,” he stated behind me as I stepped onto the curb. “I hope you
like jazz,” he asserted.

I turned back to
the car. “Of course I do. Jazz is required listening in these parts.”

He gave me
another killer smile, highlighting his smoky gray eyes. “I’ll see you
Saturday.”

I shut the car
door and headed up the walkway to my home while his dark blue BMW waited at the
curb. When I was safely inside my front door, I heard the motor of the car rev,
and watched the sleek machine pull slowly away from the curb. I flipped on my
living room lights, still warm with an inner glow from our chance encounter,
and wondered if this evening was going to turn into one of those life-altering
moments. Suddenly, the future looked a little brighter than it had earlier in
the day. I just prayed that the attractive John Blessing did not become yet
another dating disappointment.

*     *     *

The following
day at brunch with my parents, I made sure not to mention anything about my
meeting Dr. Blessing. But later that afternoon, out in Manchac at my uncle’s
boat, my cautious attitude eased.

“I met someone
last night, Uncle Jack. A doctor at University Hospital,” I divulged after I
finished checking his blood pressure.

“What was you
doin’ in that place, Nora T?” he asked as he gave me an odd look.

I rolled my
eyes. “Some guy mother had Lou set me up with had an allergic reaction to
shellfish when we were eating dinner. I had to go with him to the hospital.”

“Don’t trust no
people that can’t eat shellfish. Ain’t normal.” He walked over to the side of
his boat. 

“I would expect
a shrimper to say that.” I chuckled as I followed behind him. “The man I met is
an emergency room resident. He was very nice to me, even drove me home from the
hospital.”

“He kiss you?”
Uncle Jack questioned as he turned back to me.

“No,” I
answered, noting the frown on his face. “I thought you would be happy for me. I
met someone interesting, and he’s a doctor.”

My uncle stepped
inside the wheelhouse while I waited on the deck. I leaned against the
weathered white boards that covered the wheelhouse.

“You want to
marry this man?” His voice came from deep within the boat.

“Marry? Good
Lord, Uncle Jack, we haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“You like him
‘cause he’s nice or ‘cause he’s a doctor?”

“Uncle Jack, I
thought you would understand. I thought you would want me to date a nice guy
who has a lot of career potential.”

“You know, Nora
T.” He came out of the wheelhouse carrying a wrench in his hands. “You sound
just like your mama when you talk ’bout this man bein’ a doctor. More to a
person than what he do.”

From behind us
someone cleared their throat. Uncle Jack and I turned around at the same time
to see Jean Marc Gaspard standing in a pair of grease-stained blue jean
overalls, old tennis shoes, and no shirt. I could not help but notice the thick
muscles in his arms and beneath his bare chest.

“Nora,” Jean
Marc said in his usual condescending way. “Going to help your uncle and me fix
the oil leak in the engine?”

I shook my head,
trying to avoid his uncomfortable gaze. “No, Jean Marc. I just came out to—”

“Check his blood
pressure,” Jean Marc interjected. “Yes, I know. It’s Sunday.” He nodded to my
uncle. “I can come back later if you want, Jack.”

My uncle jumped
forward and took Jean Marc’s arm. “No, you come over here and help me. Nora can
pass us the tools while we’re down in the drink.”

I gawked at my
uncle.

“Wonderful!”
Jean Marc exclaimed, clapping his rough hands together. He directed his eyes to
me. “Shall we?” He motioned to the wheelhouse.

Uncle Jack
placed his hands about my shoulders as he shoved me inside the darkened
wheelhouse. “Come on, Nora T. Make yourself useful, girl.”

*     *     *

Uncle Jack and
Jean Marc had finished fixing the oil leak and were covered with more grime and
dirt than I had thought humanly possible. The men climbed out of the lower part
of the boat and made their way into the late afternoon sunshine up top. I
followed dutifully behind, carrying the toolbox I had been assigned to take
down below.

“Now, that
should take care of the leaking oil,” Jean Marc commented as he wiped his greasy
hands on a rag. He turned to me, keeping his face devoid of any emotion. “Thank
you for your help, Nora.”

“Sure, no
problem,” I mumbled.

“Well, this
calls for a beer,” Uncle Jack proclaimed, going in search of his ice chest.

“No, Uncle Jack.
You don’t need any more beer,” I chastised as he disappeared into the
wheelhouse. I looked over at Jean Marc, my eyes pleading with him to agree with
me.

“Ah, really,
Jack, I don’t need a beer,” Jean Marc insisted.

Uncle Jack
appeared from the shadows. “Yes, but I do.” He popped the top off a bottle with
his opener and took a long sip from his beer.

“I should be
going,” Jean Marc muttered.

I put the
toolbox down on the deck. “I need to get back to the city.”

“All right then,
Nora T,” Uncle Jack said. “I’ll see you next week. You can tell me ’bout your
date with that doctor.”

I noticed a
slight smirk creep across Jean Marc’s thin, red lips.

Uncle Jack
nodded to the younger man. “Jean Marc, I’m gonna finish up below. See Nora gets
to her car all right.”

“I don’t need Jean
Marc to walk me to my car,” I blurted out.    

“Nah,” Uncle
Jack protested. “It’s late and Jean Marc can make sure you’re safe.” Uncle Jack
did not even wait for my reply. He simply turned around and headed back into
the wheelhouse.

I was going to
voice my refusal when Jean Marc stepped in front of me.

“Come on, Nora,
I’ll walk you back to the parking lot.” He quickly headed to the gangway.

I picked up my
purse from the boat deck. “No, really, Jean Marc, I’m fine.”

He narrowed his
disconcerting eyes on me. “Your uncle asked me to see you to your car, and that
is what I intend to do. So come on.” He waved his hand for me to follow him and
then he walked down the gangway.

I sighed and
fell in step behind him. As I made my way across the gangway toward the dock,
he held out his hand to me.

“I’m all right,”
I grumbled, refusing his assistance.

He pulled his
hand away. “I was just trying to help.”

“Well, I don’t
need your help.” I started down the dock. “I’ve been coming here since I was a
kid. I know this dock just as well as you,” I added over my shoulder.

“I was there
when you were running all over these docks as a kid. Remember?”

I did not say
anything and kept on walking.

Suddenly, his
hand was on my arm and he jerked me around with such force that it took my
breath away.

“What’s your
problem? Every time we see each other, you have been nothing but rude to me.
What happened to the fun little girl I knew?” he growled.

I shrugged off
his hand and took a step away from him. “I grew up, Jean Marc.”      

“Only on the
outside, Nora. I can’t understand why every time we see each other you look at
me with such loathing.” He shook his head. “Your uncle is a good man, and he—”

“He’s a good
worker, you mean,” I snapped.   

He placed his
hands on his hips and glowered at me. “Is that it? You think I don’t give a
damn? You think I like playing boss man around here, or is this tension between
us attributed to something else entirely?”

His filthy body
shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, accentuating the numerous muscles in his
arms and chest. I quickly diverted my eyes to the blue water beside the dock.