Medicine Men by Alice Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

Something else about him, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m very receptive now. Yet.”
    “You’re really not. I think he’s sort of cute.”
    “Oh Felicia. You and doctors.”
    This conversation, like most between these two friends, took place on the phone. They generally spoke every day; their actual visits were far more rare.
    “Oh, I know.” Felicia sighed, but happily, self-approvingly. “You’ll be happy to hear I met this really attractive guy in Seattle. Not a doctor. A professor.”
    “But you’ve done that. Professors.”
    “But this one’s not even married.”
    “I suppose you’ll tell Sandy he’s gay. If he comes around.”
    She laughed. “How’d you guess?”
    “Felicia, he’ll catch on, and he’ll kill you.”
    She laughed again. “I don’t think so. He thinks, Why should I want anyone but wonderful him?”
    “That’s what O.J. thought.”
    “Oh,
please.
What I need is a new line of work, I think. I’m trying to get more hours at Open Hand.”
    Felicia did volunteer cooking and delivery at Open Hand, the organization that takes food to people bedridden with AIDS. Molly asked, “You’d like that? That would make you almost full time.”
    “I’d love it. All I’d need would be someone to support me. Anyway, how’s your allergy or whatever?”
    “Not so great. When he took me home the other night, your friend Dave Jacobs said I should see an ENT person.”
    “You probably should. Ask Macklin. Do you think you’ll go out with Dave, when he calls?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe.” It was true that Molly didn’t know. She thought she would wait and see how she felt when he called. If he called.
    “He takes a little getting used to,” Felicia told her, adding, for no reason, “He was really crazy about his wife.”
    “This is Dave Jacobs. Dr. Jacobs, we met the other night—I took you home from Felicia’s party? I was wondering if you were free for dinner on Thursday. There’s a nice place here in Mill Valley, if you don’t mind driving over …”
    Having received that message on her machine, Molly called back and got his tape, and said that she was busy on Thursday. She said to Felicia, “And I do mind driving over—it’s too far for someone I don’t even know. And then the drive home.”
    •  •  •
    The second call came a week or so later, and this time he caught her at home.
    “You’d really better see someone about those sinuses,” he said after Molly had said she was busy again, on the night that he suggested.
    “I guess I should.”
    “You sound terrible. Who’s your internist?”
    “Douglas Macklin.”
    “Oh, a very good man. Not the best, but very good.”
    “Well, even if he’s not the best, I’ll call him.”
    Surprising herself—she did not usually follow orders—Molly did call Dr. Macklin, who agreed that she should see someone. She should be seen, is how he put it. He would call a Dr. Beckle, and then she could call Beckle and make an appointment.
    Dr. Beckle turned out to be away at a conference for the next two weeks, which seemed very long for a conference; Molly wondered about that. But in the meantime her allergy or whatever seemed in mild remission.
    Dave Jacobs called her again, and again she was busy. And that was a fact that they were to argue about, among many other facts and opinions: his having called Molly three times before she could (or would) go out with him. “I’d never call anyone again who turned me down three times,” he swore. “Never. I’ve got too much pride.”
    But he had, Molly knew that he had. She remembered remarking to Felicia, “Wouldn’t you know. I’m not at all interested, and so he calls and calls. Sometimes I think men are very predictable.” Making such negative generalizations, Molly always automatically exempted Paul—who indeed would nothave called, not have been turned on by someone who was clearly not turned on by him.
    “Especially doctors,” Felicia told her. “Egos like