An August Harvest Read online

  He leaned forward, looking into my stunned eyes. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you have to trust me on this. Mr. Nash, pay very close attention, this is critical. I believe it is imperative that you immediately leave Saint Augustine. I’m talking about now, today. As soon as you leave my office, go home, pack up, drive away and never look back. Break all ties with this woman. It’s my professional opinion that leaving and getting away from this woman is the only thing that will save you.”

  It took me a moment to realize that the session was over and he wanted me to leave, but eventually I got the hint when he stopped talking and began glaring across his desk at me. When I closed the door behind me and walked toward the exit, I was in a slight state of shock.

  “Goodbye, Grant.” I heard Molly’s tiny voice behind me. I was so distracted I had forgotten she was there.

  When I turned around, she was giggling and her eyes were sparkling up at me. “I don’t believe it. You called me Grant,” I said, smiling. “It’s about time.” For three weeks, I had been trying to get her to call me Grant instead of Mr. Grant and she had finally done it.

  I walked over to her and handed her a candy bar. “You better hide this.“ Then I patted her on her head and walked out the door.

  When I made it back to the truck, I didn’t drive back to my house. I needed some time to think.

  The only part of my 1954 Ford 100 pick up that wasn’t original was the custom-made bed cover I’d installed before I left Texas. Locked inside, in the bed, were my golf clubs, so I headed to a driving range. I was angry and needed to hit something.

  After sweating through my shirt and shorts, hitting two large buckets of balls, I locked the clubs back in the bed and drove to a Sonic drive in and ordered a giant Coke and a foot long hotdog.

  Whacking the two buckets of balls had helped me take away my anger, but I was still utterly confused of what to do next. Was Dr. Hollingsworth right? Was I really still suicidal? How could that be? How could I not see that...or feel that?

  My mind was whirling as I ate my hotdog and drank my Coke. I didn’t want it to be, but it had to be the truth. Just because he was a pompous, arrogant prick and I didn’t like him, it didn’t take away the fact that he was an experienced doctor of psychology. What possible reason would he have to tell me something that wasn’t true? And who am I to argue with a doctor? I did jump off that boat only one year ago...I did try to kill myself.

  The reality of his conclusion was a very hard thing to accept, but I decided I had to do it. My only problem was...Charley.

  I knew I probably wouldn’t even have to tell him. He would more than likely know. And if he did, there’s no way he’d ever agree with what the doctor was suggesting. On the drive back to the house, I decided to try to trick him, to somehow get him into the truck and drive away. I could have our stuff packed up and sent to us later. I just needed to somehow get Charley in the truck.

  Before I unlocked the front door, I filled my mind with thoughts of the park. Charley loved going to the park, so I was hoping that if he could actually read minds, he’d think we were going to the park. But when I opened the door, instead of barking and spinning around like he normally did, he flew out the door, between my legs, ran down the staircase and stopped at the curb in front of the house.

  “Charley, what the hell are you doing?” I yelled down at him.

  As I said that, a taxi turned down our street and stopped in front of the house. When the back doors opened, Marshall and Brenda stepped out.

  “Oh my gosh! This is beautiful!” Brenda gasped.

  After they got settled in the guest bedroom, we all took a long walk on the beach. When we got back, I fired up the grill and threw on some steaks while Marshall and Brenda made a salad and opened a bottle of wine. Listening to nature’s beautiful music of waves crashing on the beach as the sun went down, we had our dinner on the back deck.

  Through out the meal, Marshall didn’t say much, but I caught him staring at me several times.

  “So what do you think?” I asked him.

  “About what?” He said.

  I frowned. “About the house.”

  He looked around. “It’s great. Beautiful. But what do you think?”

  “What?

  “Its a simple question,” he said. “What do you think about this house?”

  “Are you serious? I love it! That’s why I bought it!” I said this a bit too loud.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Grant, don’t forget that I’ve known you since you were four years old. I can tell when something is wrong with you. If you love this place so much, then why aren’t you smiling? From the minute we got here, I could tell something wasn’t right, and it has to do with this house. You could barely look at it when Brenda was going on and on about its design and how it was decorated. So...tell me the truth, what do you think about this house?”

  I dropped my napkin in my plate, pushed my chair away from the table and stood, leaning against the rail. “Truthfully, I love everything about this house: the design, the furniture, the location, the ocean, but...”

  “But what?” Brenda asked.

  “I can’t stay here. I have to leave.” I shrugged and looked down at Brenda. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “DOCTOR’S ORDERS?” They both shouted in stunned unison.

  “What doctor?” Marshall asked.

  “Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth.”

  “Is that someone’s real name? Sounds like some pompous jackass you’d read about in a trashy romance novel.”

  I started laughing. “You got the pompous jackass right, but yes, it’s his real name. At least that’s what it says on his door. He’s the psychologist I’ve been seeing for the last few weeks.”

  “Wait!” Brenda said. “Back up. Exactly how many sessions have you and Doctor Jackass had?”

  “Seven, well actually six. Today wasn’t a real session. Today, he just dropped the bomb on me with his conclusion of my case.”

  “Conclusion?” Brenda’s eyes were wide. “Did he actually use the word conclusion?”

  “Yes.” I said, confused.

  Brenda stood up. “Do you have more wine in the kitchen? I’m gonna need much more wine.”

  When she came back with a new bottle, she sat down, looked at me and took my hand. “Grant, trust me...you’re not going anywhere. Now, I want you to tell me, word for word about Doctor Jackass’ ‘conclusion’.”

  8

  Second Opinion

  Melissa had watched Grant and Charley greet the couple that arrived in the taxicab that afternoon, and had made a point of avoiding them for the rest of the day. She would liked to have met them, because they were probably some of Grant’s close friends. But for some reason she couldn’t explain she stayed hidden in the house in the dark, watching them through her blinds.

  At least the insomnia had gone away and she had been sleeping well, but thoughts of Grant had continued to occupy her mind most of the days.

  It had reached the point of frustration. She couldn’t even read a book or watch television without her mind drifting back to that moment when she touched his hand, or that tingling feeling she had when he looked at her.

  More than once, she had startled Donna out of a sound sleep shaking her head, screaming, “STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM!” It was driving her crazy, because it made absolutely no sense.

  It was like an addiction. When she woke up in the morning, she would look in the mirror and promise herself she wouldn’t think about him. Then she’d see him walking out his front door, or sitting on his back deck, or headed out for his daily jog on the beach...and her mind would instantly fill with those amazing feelings .

  She had no idea why those feelings scared her so much, but they did, and until she figured out why, she intended to stay away from him. Fortunately, her daughter was coming back that morning from her court ordered four-week stay with her ex-husband. She knew that once she got home, her daughter’s needs would take over and occupy most of h
er time and hopefully, her mind.

  “On the beach? In the hot sun?” Marshall protested. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Come on, you wimp!” I said, throwing his running shoes at him. “Just a few miles along the shore. You’ll love it. What could happen anyway, you’re a doctor!”

  Charley and I had to stop a few times along the way to let Marshall catch up, to catch his breath and cuss at me, but we eventually made it back to my walkway.

  When we stopped, I heard a tiny voice yelling, “MR. GRANT, MR. GRANT!”

  I looked around to see Molly and Melissa playing in the sand close to the ocean.

  “Molly!” I screamed, holding out my arms as she ran up to me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m building a sandcastle with Mommy,” she said.

  I looked at Melissa. “Molly is your daughter?”

  Her shocked eyes were wide open. “How do you know Molly?”

  “He’s my friend,” she said, holding my hand, pulling me down the beach toward where Melissa was sitting in the sand. “He gives me candy and cookies, but don’t tell Daddy.”

  Melissa raised her eyes up at me and smiled. “Oh he does, does he?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve been seeing Dr. Hollingsworth. You never told me your last name. I had no idea that he...”

  She held up her hand. “That’s okay, I understand. Molly was in the lobby, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “That son-of-a-b...” she stopped herself from saying it. “He promised me...”

  “Promised you what, Mommy?” Molly asked.

  She looked down at her and smiled. “Don’t worry, baby, its nothing. Let’s finish the sandcastle. We still have to build the moat.”

  I stood there for a few more moments watching them dig in the sand, but it felt awkward, so I said goodbye, whistled for Charley, who was playing with Donna, and walked back to Marshall, who was sitting on the walkway waiting for me.

  “Is that her?” he asked.

  “Yes, that’s Melissa and her daughter, Molly. And boy, do I have a story to tell you and Brenda about how I know her daughter.”

  When we walked over the dunes on the wooden walkway, I saw Dr. Hollingsworth glaring down at me from Melissa’s back deck.

  “Mr. Nash,” he yelled down at me. “I see that you didn’t heed my professional advice very well.”

  I looked up, covered my eyes from the sun with my hand and gave him my biggest grin, “Oh, hey there, Doc! Naw, I decided to get a second opinion.”

  “A second opinion?” His shocked eyes widened as he put his hands on his hips. “From whom?” he shouted down at me.

  “From me!” Brenda said from my deck.

  Shocked, he spun around and glared at her. “And whom, may I ask are you?”

  “I am Dr. Brenda Reed.”

  He adjusted his tie and jacket, lifted his head arrogantly and glared back at her, “Humpt. And what exactly is your field of specialty, Dr. Reed?”

  She smiled, “I am a board-certified doctor of psychology. I am licensed in the state of Texas, the state of California, the state of New York and,” she dropped her smile, returning his glare, “in the state of Florida.”

  I could see his body stiffening twenty feet below. “Dr. Hollingsworth, I think you should know, I had a very long and detailed talk with Mr. Nash about your,” she held up her hands making air quotes, ‘conclusion’ concerning his case. I totally and unequivocally disagree with your finding. In fact, it’s my opinion that your conclusion borders on malpractice.”

  His forehead instantly broke out in beads of perspiration. He pulled a chair out from the table and plopped down. All the blood had drained from his face and he was ghost white.

  “And there is one more thing you need to know about me, Dr. Hollingsworth. I am a member of the Texas State Board of Examiners of Psychologists. I assume you know what that is.”

  Brenda walked slowly to the edge of the deck. She was only about fifty feet from him. He was glaring across at her, sweating profusely, gasping for air and having trouble breathing.

  Brenda smiled at him. “What’s wrong, Doc? You don’t look so good.”

  He jumped to his feet and started to walk away.

  “Wait, Doc, there’s more. I just got off the phone with the Florida Board of Psychology.”

  When she said that, he stopped, turned around and stared at her. “I have an appointment to meet with them tomorrow. You know how that goes, professional courtesy between peers. They seemed very interested to talk to me. And unless I’m wrong I believe they will also totally and unequivocally disagree with your conclusion. Dr. Hollingsworth, if I have anything to do with it, you won’t be calling yourself doctor much longer.”

  He yelped like a wounded animal, jumped up, ran into the house and slammed the door behind him.

  “What did he tell you?” I heard Melissa’s voice say behind me. “What was the conclusion she was talking about?”

  I spun around. She was only a few feet behind me, but I had no idea how long she’d been there. “Ahh, well...he told me I needed to move, to get away from you.”

  She lifted her head and stared at me. “Get away from me? Why would he tell you that?”

  I wasn’t sure how to explain it. “I didn’t know he was your ex-husband and...well...I told him about...this.”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. She gasped and jerked her hand back.

  “Did you feel that Melissa? I have to know. I felt something. It was like a bolt of electricity. I’ve felt it every time we’ve touched. Did you feel it, too?”

  She locked eyes with me, then turned away and looked back at Molly playing on the beach, “I’m sorry, Grant, but I have to go talk to Jerry. Will you keep an eye on her for a few minutes? Please?”

  Before she walked away, she took my hands in hers, stared up into my eyes and whispered, “Yes...I felt it too.”

  Watching her walk away, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer inside my chest.

  I had ordered a folding beach shade canopy from Amazon, but had never used it, so I pulled it out of the box and carried it to the beach.

  After receiving some serious ribbing from Brenda for our apparent lack of construction skills and a few jokes like how many doctors and architects does it take to set up a beach tent, Marshall and I finally got it standing up next to Molly’s sandcastle. For almost two hours, Brenda, Marshall and I baked in the sun or hid from it under the shade of the canopy, watching Molly play. Every ten or fifteen minutes, she would want to go jump in the ocean to cool off, so we all took turns taking her, and then carefully re-applying her sunscreen afterwards.

  Eventually, we all got hungry, and walked back over the dunes to my house and had lunch around the bar in the kitchen, enjoying the wonderful coolness of the air conditioner.

  When I saw Hollingsworth’s Jaguar pull away, I called Melissa to tell her that I had Molly with me at my house. She was sound asleep in my lap.

  Melissa’s voice was soft. “Thank you, Grant. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean for it to take this long, but Jerry was...well, very angry and a little out of control.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “She was no trouble at all. I loved it and I think she had fun, too. Charley and Donna wore her out, she’s down for the count.”

  When I hung up, I lifted Molly up off my lap, cradled her into my arms and walked her next door. When Melissa opened the door, I followed her to Molly’s room, laid her down on the bed and tucked her in.

  When I turned around, Melissa was grinning with a curious look on her face, her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were wide. “You’ve done that before.”

  “Done what?” I asked.

  “Tucked in a child.”

  “Yes...I’ve done that many times.”

  “Do you have a child?”

  I stared into her eyes, but this time she didn’t look away. “I did...her name was Audrey, but she died. Melissa, we have a lot to talk about. I want to know everythin
g about you, and I want you to know everything about me, but that’s a long story. It has been one hell of a day and you look exhausted. How about this? Tomorrow, I would like for you and me to spend the day together, just the two of us. I’ve already talked to Marshall and Brenda, and they said they’d be happy to watch Molly and Donna.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know, Grant.”

  “Melissa, what is it about me that you are so afraid of? Don’t you want to...”

  “No, Grant. That’s not want I meant at all. It’s just that I’ve never met your friends. I’m not comfortable leaving Molly with someone I’ve never met. I’m sure they’re wonderful people and I know they’re your friends, but...”

  I smiled down at her. “I completely understand. Can I ask you one more question?”

  “Sure. What about?

  “Are you absolutely ‘can’t wait to get into bed’ exhausted, or are you just plain old it’s been a long day exhausted? Would you be up for a glass of wine on your back deck? I’d love for you to meet my best friend, Dr. Marshall Taylor and his girlfriend, Dr. Brenda Reed.”

  She lifted her head and looked into my eyes. “Just plain old exhausted. I’d love to meet your friends, but before we do that, there’s something you need to know about me first.”

  I put my arms around her, pulling her close. When our bodies touched, my heart began to race, “And what’s that?”

  “I don’t drink,” she said.

  I frowned down at her. “What? Well, then forget it,” I said, laughing.