“Doctors like who?” Sunny asked.
“You know—foreign ones.” Ollie kept his voice low and his eyes on the doorway. “Anything goes wrong, they can always go back to wherever they came from.”
“I can’t believe—” Sunny began, but Gardner Scatterwell suddenly spoke up.
“She’ll never win any bedside manner awards, but I can assure you, Dr. Gavrik is an excellent physician,” he said. “Most of the people in this ward are basically trying to get themselves better, so health is less of an issue. But in the time I’ve been here, I’ve seen Dr. Gavrik save the lives of several permanent residents.”
Now I see why they call Gardner the mayor of the rehab ward, Sunny thought. He even talks like a politician.
Gardner waggled his eyebrows. “Besides, when you get to know her, you’ll find she’s a very attractive woman.”
Sunny rolled her eyes. Maybe too much like a politician.
“I guess Dad and I ought to be heading home,” she said.
“Yeah,” Ollie the Barnacle said. “Check in at the office tomorrow morning, then come here and collect these papers.”
Sunny and her dad said good-bye to Ollie and Gardner, then headed down the hallway. Mike was silent as they walked past the nurses’ station and then toward the front door.
“You okay, Dad?” Sunny asked. “That doctor didn’t upset you, did she?”
“I was thinking of something else.” But Mike didn’t elaborate as they got to Rafe the guard’s desk. While her father paged back through the sign-in book, Rafe smiled at Sunny. “Well, it looks as if you survived the Curse of Portia,” he said.
Mike looked up. “Is that Dr. Gavrik’s first name?”
That took the wind out of Rafe’s sails, reducing him to “Er, ah . . .”
“This is my dad, Mike Coolidge,” Sunny introduced them. Then she went on to explain the rumors about Portia acting as the fickle finger of death.
Mike snorted and shook his head. “I’m getting gladder and gladder I didn’t come to this place when I was sick. It’s beginning to sound like a home for the feeble-minded.”
“Just a place where a lot of lonely folks have no place to go and nothing much to talk about,” Rafe said. “It’s like little kids telling ghost stories.”
“Yup—definitely happy that I can get out,” Mike mumbled, scrawling his name in the appropriate spot. Sunny signed out, too, then said good-bye to Rafe.
“Have a good evening,” Rafe replied.
As they stepped out the door, Mike said, “That’s a nice boy.”
“Dad.” Sunny gave him an exasperated look. “You don’t have to worry about setting me up.”
“I was just thinking that maybe Will Price could use a little competition,” Mike turned an innocent blue gaze on her. “They’re even in a similar field. Will’s a cop, and this fellow is in security.”
“Rafe’s also a lot younger than I am,” Sunny pointed out.
“Oh, that all evens out in, say, twenty years.”
Wonderful, Sunny silently groused. He’s already got me married and sitting beside the fire for twenty years. “What’s got you thinking like this?” she asked.
“I’ve just been mulling over something Gardner mentioned,” Mike confessed. “He asked why the band broke up. You know, I met your mother through that stupid band. She used to stand right up front when we played.” He smiled at the memory. “There were usually three kinds of people you’d find up front. The ones who couldn’t dance, the ones who wanted to look cool, and the ones who really enjoyed the music. Your mother loved music—not that I need to remind you of that, with your name.”
Sunny nodded. With a name like Sonata, it hadn’t always been easy when she was younger. Kids are the ultimate conformists, and anything even a little bit different tended to get picked on. But she’d come through reasonably all right. It’s too bad I lost Mom just when I was finally getting comfortable with the name, she thought. She’d thank her for it now.
“So she knew your friend Gardner, too, huh?” Sunny said. “You know, there’s a fourth reason for people to hang around in front of a band—groupies.”
“I think that’s why Gardner got into music,” Mike told her. “I had to give him a poke in the snoot when he started sniffing around your mother while she was going out with me. It’s definitely what broke up the band.”
“Dad!” Sunny couldn’t believe what he was saying.
But Mike merely nodded and gave her a shamefaced grin. “I’d forgotten about all that when I saw him today. It was almost fifty years ago, for the love of mud. I’d just hear about him in passing. Seemed as if he was always going off places, sometimes for years at a time. Mexico, Nepal . . . I suppose he could tell you some stories.”
“Well, at least you seemed friendly enough now,” Sunny said. “I guess the two of you have gotten older and wiser.”
Mike just shrugged. “Older, at least.”
He got in his truck, she got in her SUV, and they both headed home.
*
Shadow had checked all the rooms in the house—all except one, where the door was closed. So he’d given up for the time being and come back downstairs. He woke from a nap at the rattle of keys in the lock and strolled over to investigate the newcomers. Would it be Sunny—which would be cause for a warm welcome—or the Old One, her father, who would just get a cursory sniff?
It turned out to be both of them. He twined around Sunny’s legs as they headed for the room where the two-legs kept the food.
Shadow’s nose told him that Sunny and the Old One had been in the same place. Some of the smells clinging to them were familiar—they reminded him of scents he’d encountered when he’d been taken to be treated for sickness or hurts. But he also got a whiff of many Old Ones, smells of sickness.
When Sunny knelt to pet him, Shadow detected another scent on her hands. He smelled cat!
For a second, he was disconcerted and nearly pulled away. Instead, he found himself avidly sniffing her fingers as she gently stroked through his fur. Sunny made happy sounds and spoke to the Old One, who grumbled in reply. His rumbling only got louder when Shadow approached to sniff at him, too, though he quickly returned to Sunny when he didn’t find the interesting cat scent on the other human.
Even when Sunny stopped playing with him and began preparing a meal, Shadow stayed close, breathing in the dissipating scent. Definitely a She. Strange. He’d smelled plenty of cats in his wanderings. What made the scent of this female so interesting?
*
Shadow acted a bit oddly during supper, climbing several times into Sunny’s lap to sniff at her hands.
“You did wash ’em before you touched the food, right?” Mike asked.
“Dad!” Sunny gave him a look.
“Well, the furball keeps checking them out. And you said it was a female cat you were petting.” Mike’s bright blue eyes fixed Shadow with a dubious stare. “Are you sure he’s been, like, fixed?”
“It was one of the first things Jane Rigsdale checked when she became his vet,” Sunny assured her dad. “I don’t exactly think Shadow could fake that.”
“All right, all right, just asking.” Mike switched the topic. “I’m glad we invited Helena over. Be nice to see her.”
Sunny knew her dad had been missing his lady friend, who’d been out of town over the weekend visiting her daughter in Boston. And, of course, Sunny knew Mike had an ulterior motive. Helena Martinson was sure to bring her award-winning coffee cake. “You’re just glad to have some dessert tonight,” she scolded. “Don’t go crazy on the cake.”