The Doctor and the War Widow by Viola Russell Read Free Book Online

one of my best teachers when school starts.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Harley smiled at the steely-eyed gray-haired nun. She wished the nun wouldn’t be such a hypocrite. The woman had always hated Harley and her friends.
    Harley brushed past the bishop. “Take care, Harley. I know you’ve been under some stress lately. I was very sorry to hear about your mother.”
    “It was just too hot.” Harley stared into the old man’s face. He cast a penetrating glance her way.
    Harley turned from him and bolted through the door, Judy at her heels. As they reached the parking lot, Harley saw Mary Ann speaking with Jenny Marcot, another former classmate. Mary Ann was oblivious to Harley’s presence or pretended to be, and her voice echoed through the humid air. “Well, you know, old maids always are nervous.”
    Harley resisted the urge to traverse the lot and punch Mary Ann in her smug face. She sighed wearily. “I’m okay, Judy. I can drive home. Please go on without me.” The last thing Harley wanted was pity or mothering.

Chapter 5
    Later that day, Harley was glad to have another round of edits to occupy her time and spent the rest of the afternoon editing. She knew that if Donna heard her, her old friend would say she was perverse, but Harley didn’t care. She was either going mad or was uncontrollably menopausal. If she were losing her mind, she could look forward to spending time in a mental asylum, wearing white and staring at four walls. If she were madly menopausal, her life would be only slightly better than if she were mad. She didn’t want to think of growing old, developing hair in unwanted places, or of gaining unwanted pounds. Too often older women talked of nothing else but their female problems at doctor’s offices and styling salons. They worried about the weather, harbored paranoid delusions that terrorists were specifically targeting them, fantasized about unobtainable movie stars, and interfered in their children’s lives.
    Well, Harley thought, she had no children, but she prayed she wasn’t going to develop the schizophrenic tendencies she associated with menopause. Such women were, at the least, considered mildly eccentric by their associates, and at the extreme, were considered mad women in the attic.
    “Better buy some black cohosh and St. John’s wart the next time I’m in the drugstore,” she mumbled as she finished another sex scene. Her protagonist had just met a modern day pirate and was caught in his passionate embrace. Harley munched on celery sticks while she typed. After less than a half hour, Harley pressed the ‘submit’ button on her program. “Another sex scene off to Jill.” She smiled at the irony that a best-selling author who wrote steamy sex scenes was getting so little sex and possibly suffering from menopausal hysteria. Harley took a sip of wine and then moved to shut down her computer.
    “Oh, why the hell not see if somebody sent me a message?” She went to her e-mail and saw that she had received ten new e-mails. Two were clear nutcases. Oh, please, Sexy Mama, save me from this broken heart.
    Harley shook her head and laughed. Delete . The next blared from the screen. Oh, you’re gorgeous. I bet you’ve had some good rumbles in the hay .
    Delete.
    The third actually was literate, and didn’t use cringe-inducing text language. You sound intelligent, witty, and well-rounded. You’re also very beautiful. I’d like to meet you, and I’ll meet wherever you’re comfortable. I’m an educated professional, and I know this form of communication can be intimidating. It is for me, too .
    Harley smiled as she read. Here was a man who didn’t sound like a moron. She clicked on his profile and waited for reality to set in. Many of these men had looked promising at first until she’d scrutinized them more closely. This particular one was nice-looking. He had close-cropped, dark hair. Not a kid by any means, but very handsome. She read about his