Page 55 of Careless Hope
“Those are some nasty looking bruises,” I commented carefully, allowing my concern to seep through my professional demeanor. “Do you bruise easily, or is there another rose bush incident I should know about?”
“Oh, these?” Lily laughed nervously, tugging her sleeve down. “I’m just clumsy, always have been. I keep bumping into things.”
I paused, my gaze lingering on the discolored skin. Clumsy accidents didn’t usually follow such a pattern, and my gut twisted with concern. Lily was hiding something, that much was clear. I’d suspected as much at her first visit. But pressing her about it could spook her, and whatever was happening, she needed an ally, not an interrogator.
The weight of responsibility settled heavy on my shoulders. This wasn’t just a medical practice I’d inherited—it was a legacy, a promise to care for the people in this town that had raised me. And right now, one of them needed more than just stitches.
Whatever was going on, I was determined to help her, even if I had to tread carefully on this unfamiliar terrain. After all, learning to navigate the complexities of human hurt was just as important as mastering the intricacies of medicine.
“Everything’s all set, Lily. Just make sure to keep the wound clean and dry, alright?” I said, peeling off my latex gloves with a snap. My hands felt suddenly cold in the air-conditioned sterility of the exam room.
“Will do,” she replied, sliding off the examination table with a stiffness that seemed out of place for someone her age.
I hesitated, my eyes catching once more on the mosaic ofbruises that played hide and seek beneath the hem of her sleeves. “Lily,” I started, carefully choosing my words. “Is everything okay at home?”
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her lips tried to twist into a smile but looked more like a grimace. Her eyes shot to the floor and stayed there.
“It’s fine.”
Yeah. It wasn’t.
“If you ever need to talk—about anything—I’m here.”
Lily busied herself with smoothing out the creases in her skirt, avoiding my gaze. “Home’s fine, Dr. Cressley. Jim’s been real good to me.” Her voice was as evasive as her eyes, and the name ‘Jim’ fell like a lead weight in the otherwise silent room.
“Alright, just remember, my door is always open. Not just as your doctor, but as a friend too,” I said, offering a smile that hoped to bridge the gap between professional concern and personal care.
“Thanks, appreciate it,” she mumbled, and with one last uncertain glance, she was gone, leaving behind a silence that hummed with unspoken words.
As the day waned, I locked up the practice, the familiar click of the deadbolt echoing through the empty halls. Whittier Falls was usually a comforting blanket of small-town tranquility, but tonight, there was a restlessness in the air that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Doc Cressley?” The voice came from behind me, gruff and unexpected.
I turned and found myself face-to-face with a tall figure looming in the dimming light—a man with heavybrows and a scowl that seemed etched into his leathery skin. His stance was wide, arms crossed in a manner that seemed less defensive and more . . . threatening.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice betraying none of the alarm bells ringing in my head.
“Name’s Jim. I’m Lily’s husband.” Each word was punctuated with a hard edge, and he took a step closer, invading my personal space as if he had every right to.
“Ah, yes, Lily mentioned you,” I said, taking an involuntary step back, my spine pressing against the cool metal of the clinic’s door. I could feel the sweat beading at my temples despite the evening chill. “How can I help you, Jim?”
“Stay out of our business,” he growled, his voice low but carrying an undercurrent of fury that made me flinch.
I swallowed hard, willing my legs to hold steady. “As a physician, it’s my duty to ensure the well-being of my patients,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. His presence loomed over me, a dark cloud threatening a storm.
“Your ‘duty’ ends when they walk outta your office.” His eyes were narrow slits, his jaw clenched tight. “You go meddling in things you don’t understand, and you’ll find yourself in a mess of trouble.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked, though it was clear as the stars slowly appearing in the night sky above us.
“Consider it friendly advice,” he sneered, stepping closer. His breath reeked of tobacco and something sour.
“Well as her doctor, I’m afraid I can’t take that advice.”
His fist thrusted forward, mere inches from my face, and slammed into the door behind me. I felt the rush of air against my cheek as it passed.
“Did I stutter?” He said, his voice raising in volume. “You ain’t been back here for a long time, so let me make this real clear.You don’t know nothing about us, about how things work. Keep your nose where it belongs.”
“Of course,” I said, trying to sound calm, even as my mind raced. “My concern is only for her well-being.”
