Edit to Death : Myrtle Clover #14

Chapter Eight

Miles's eyebrows shot up. He muttered, "Myrtle, it isn't done. The doctors have nothing to do with scheduling."

"Pooh. That's a myth. This is his office, and he's the one in charge. I'm pretty sure that he knows a good deal about what goes on with the scheduling there. It's a small town. I've no doubt that things didn't work this way when you were in Atlanta, but I can assure you they work this way here."

She turned her attention back to the phone. "Yes, Tommy, it's me. I know you'd rather limit the number of patients you're seeing, but this is a special case. She hasn't been to the doctor since she was a child and you'll likely never see her again unless I can persuade her to return."

Myrtle's voice had that same authoritative ring to it that it did when she was in charge of her classroom. It had always surprised Miles how people responded with alacrity to it. It was how she got most things done.

Myrtle glanced at the clock. "I most certainly can have her there in 45 minutes. Thanks, Tommy." She hung up looking smug.

Miles, however, looked worried. "Not to argue, Myrtle, but Wanda lives some distance away."

"I can get there and back to town in 45 minutes," said Myrtle. She made a quick phone call to Wanda to let her know she was coming. Then she pulled out her pocketbook and rifled through a fat wallet until she found her driver's license. Satisfied that she'd located it, she put it back in her purse.

Miles continued, "It's just that you don't drive very fast."

"Speed limits are there for a reason," said Myrtle as she picked up her cane and headed for the door. Miles trailed along behind her.

"Most people don't treat them as a limit. They're just careful to go only seven or eight miles an hour over them," said Miles.

"I'm not most people," said Myrtle with a shrug. "But I'll make sure I get there on time. The doctor is working her in."

They stepped outside and Myrtle locked the door. Then she waited for Miles to hand over his car keys. He slowly did so.

"Thank you. I'll fill you in when I get back home," said Myrtle.

Miles nodded and miserably watched as she climbed into his car, gave a jaunty little honk of the horn as a goodbye, and took off at a sedate ten miles an hour.

It took a while to reach Wanda's hubcap-covered shack. She was waiting outside in a plastic chair that had seen better days. The bony woman stood up as Myrtle approached in Miles's car.

"Done run him off, ain't we?" asked Wanda as she got into the front seat.

"Well, it was all that talk of germs, wasn't it? Miles would hardly want to go to the doctor's office after hearing that. Unless that was your intention all along? To keep him home?"

"He'd-a caught somethin' in the waiting room. Or somewhere else," said Wanda with a distracted shrug. She gave another grating, heaving cough, which made Myrtle frown.

"This is completely ridiculous. You cannot let coughs get the upper hand. Otherwise, the next thing you know, you end up with pneumonia." Myrtle clicked her tongue. She glanced over at the time and was surprised to see that there was less time to reach the doctor than she'd thought. She gently pressed the accelerator and frowned in concentration as the needle climbed up another five miles an hour.

Wanda gave her a look that was even more serious than Wanda's usual somber countenance. "Have somethin' to tell you."

"I've already gotten the message, loud and clear. I'm in danger. I now accept that this is a consistent issue in my life," said Myrtle. She glanced again at the time and then again at the speedometer in consternation. She pressed the accelerator gently and winced at the responding speed. "Don't want us to be late," she muttered. At least now she was approaching downtown Bradley.