Roman looked up from his half eaten sandwich and noticed her sitting two tables away. She was scanning the menu, a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her small nose. His eyes roamed over her. An attractive woman, she was slender with long dark brown hair, smoky gray eyes, and a heart shaped face.
She glanced in Roman's direction. Their eyes met and she smiled. Roman smiled back and then lowered his gaze to his plate. He picked up his sandwich only to put it down again when his cell phone started ringing. Retrieving the phone from the pocket of his jacket, he pressed the talk button.
"Hello."
"What are you doing?"
Roman grinned. His grandfather was never one to beat around the bush. Getting straight to the point was how he operated. "I'm having lunch, Granddad. Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," the elderly man answered. "I was just calling to invite you over for a visit. There's someone I want you to meet. Her name is Kayla. She's a lovely woman and I think you two would hit it off."
"Are you trying to fix me up, Granddad?" Roman asked, picking up his soft drink.
"Of course not," his grandfather said. "You know me better than that."
"What time do you want me to come over?"
"Two-thirty."
"I'll see you then." Roman ended the call, put his cell phone on the table, and took a sip of his drink. His phone rang again. This time he checked the caller ID before he answered it. "Hello."
"Dr. Marshall, this is Julia with the answering service," she said. "A patient of yours, a Mrs. Rebecca Swanson, called. She said she needs to talk to you. She claims it's an emergency."
Roman rolled his eyes. "Please hold." He grabbed an ink pen and a small notepad from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Give me her number please." She read it to him and he wrote it down. "Thank you, Julia."
"You're welcome, sir," she replied.
He said goodbye and then dialed Mrs. Swanson's number.
"Swanson residence," a woman stated, coming on the line after the second ring.
"Lauren, it's Dr. Marshall," Roman informed her. "How is your mother?"
"She's not doing well," she responded. "I know it's Sunday and your day off, but would you please talk to her."
"Put her on the phone." Roman propped his elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared down at his sandwich, sighing softly. So much for a peaceful lunch.
"Dr. M-Marshall," Rebecca cried, coming on the line. "I-I n-n-need to see y-you. I'm a-afraid-"
"Rebecca," Roman interrupted. "Take a deep breath and try to calm down. When you feel you are calm enough to talk I want you to tell me what's wrong. Take your time."
"I need to see you," she said calmly, a minute later. "Can you come to my house?"
"What has you upset?" he asked. "Maybe we can work through it over the phone."
"I'm afraid for my life," Rebecca told him, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "My husband is stalking me."
"Rebecca, your husband is in prison," Roman said patiently. "We've talked about this. He's serving a twenty year sentence. You are safe. He can't harm you anymore."
"I swear I saw him just this morning!" she exclaimed. "I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store when I saw him."
"Did you see his face?" Roman queried.
"I-I saw the side of his face, but I know it was him. I know it-"
"You saw someone who looked like him, Rebecca." Roman rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension he felt. "You didn't see him. I want you to do something for me. Next time you think you see your husband I want you to take a deep breath and tell yourself, It's not him. I'm safe. He can't hurt me anymore. Repeat it."
"It's not him," Rebecca said. "I'm safe. He can't hurt me anymore."
"Repeat that as many times as you need to," Roman advised her. "Are you taking your medication?"
"Yes," she answered.
"I want you to call my office in the morning and have my secretary, Darcy, schedule an appointment for you."
"Okay."
"Is there anything else you need to talk about?" Roman wanted to know.
"No," Rebecca said. "I'm okay now. I think I just needed to have you reassure me that everything's alright. Thank you, Dr. Marshall."
"You're welcome." They exchanged goodbyes and Roman went back to his lunch.
* * *
An hour later, Roman pulled up alongside the Marshall's residence. He put the car in park and switched off the ignition. Removing his cell phone from the charger he kept in the car, he slipped the phone in his pocket and opened the door.
As he stepped out of the car the large fountain that stood in the center of the circle driveway caught his attention. It was a statue of an angel surrounded by cherubs. Water poured from the pots the angels' held in their hands. An image of him and his sister playing in the fountain when they were children popped into his head and brought a smile to his lips.
"Are you going to stand there until Christmas or are you going to get your butt in the house?"
His smile growing wider, Roman turned and found his grandfather standing on the top step. Warren Marshall was tall with broad shoulders, a head full of white hair, and eyes the color of milk chocolate. Due to an old injury he relied heavily on a cane to get around. The sight of the elderly man sent a rush of affection through Roman. Of all his family members his grandfather was his favorite.
"I'm coming, Granddad." He joined his grandfather on the top step, giving him a hug. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm seventy-eight years old," Warren said. "How do you think I feel? Let's go inside. I need to sit down."
Roman followed his grandfather into the house. The moment he entered the foyer he felt himself relax. The mansion had a warm and welcoming feeling to it. He cast a glance overhead at the sparkling chandelier and then at the large crystal vase of white roses on the round table in the center of the room.
"Kayla should be arriving any minute," Warren said, his cane making a loud thumping sound as it struck the tile floor. "Let's talk in the living room while we wait."
The living room was decorated in different shades of blue and white. Paintings of various landscapes covered the grayish-white walls while family photos in silver frames decorated the fireplace mantel. Drapes the shade of sapphires framed the windows. The scent of roses wafted in through the open french doors that led outside to the rose garden.
Warren sat down in a wing-chair near the open doors and propped his cane against the end table beside the chair. "I imagine you're curious about Kayla."
"I am." Roman took a seat on the couch. "How long have you known her?"
"Three weeks."
Roman arched an eyebrow. "Why am I just now meeting the woman?"
"Don't look at me that way, boy," Warren growled. "You would have met her sooner if you would come over more often. You're so busy I haven't seen you in a while."
Guilt washed over Roman. He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Granddad. I'll try to come over more."
"You do that," the elderly man said. "Because I-" The doorbell rang, interrupting what he was about to say.
Rising from the couch, Roman left the living room and made his way across the foyer. His reflection came back to him from the mirror on the wall close to the door. He saw a man of average height with broad shoulders, disheveled light brown hair, and moss-green eyes.
Roman opened the door and came face to face with the woman he had been ogling at the restaurant. Taken aback he gaped at her.
"I know." She smiled crookedly. "I'm just as stunned as you are. I guess it really is a small world after all."
Roman cleared his throat, stepping aside. "I guess so." She crossed the threshold. As she brushed past him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. It reminded him of lilac's warmed by the sun. He found he liked the scent. Closing the door, he turned to face her.
"I feel bad." She grimaced. "Your grandfather has shown me pictures of you. I should have recognized you at the restaurant."
"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. "I have a forgetful face."
"Are you two going to join me?" Warren called out. "If not let me know and I'll go take a nap."
Kayla laughed softly. "We're coming, Warren," she called back. "Well, Doctor, I think we better join the cranky old man."
Roman gestured for her to precede him. "After you, Ms.-" He scratched his jaw. "The cranky old man didn't mention your last name."
"It's Reynolds."
After you, Ms. Reynolds." Roman followed her to the living room. "We're here, Granddad. You can relax now."
"Hello, Warren." Kayla moved to his side and bent down to kiss his forehead. "You're looking well."
"Flatterer." He winked at her. "You look lovely as always."
"Now who's the flatterer."
Roman watched their little exchange with interest. "Do you two carry on like this all the time?"
"Oh, yes." Kayla settled on the couch with Roman. "We've had an easygoing relationship since day one."
"How did you two meet?" Roman asked, glancing from Kayla to Warren and then back to Kayla.
"I'm the nurse at your niece's school," she explained. "Your niece came to the nurse's station one morning feeling unwell. I called her mother to come pick her up. She couldn't get away from work so she sent the cranky old man in her place. Before he left he asked me to have coffee with him. I said yes and we've been friends ever since."
"Zoe has mentioned you a few times now that I think about it," Roman said.
"I adore your niece," Kayla confessed. "She's a sweet child."
"Yes she is," Roman agreed.
Just then, Warren's personal assistant entered the living room. "Mr. Marshall, you have a fax coming in."
"Thank you, Jill." Warren grabbed his cane and slowly got to his feet. "I've been expecting this fax. I won't be long. You two talk, get better acquainted."
Roman turned to Kayla once they were alone. "What has my grandfather told you about me?"
"Why do you want to know?" She smirked. "Are you worried?"
He blinked. "No."
She leaned toward him and said softly, "Well, he told me you're a single, childless, workaholic with a fondness for junk food."
Roman winched. "That sounds horrible."
"He said it with love." Kayla tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "We have some things in common, Doc. I'm unattached, have no children, and am fond of junk food. I have a secret stash of chocolate in the bottom drawer of my desk. Heaven help me if any of the students' found out."
"I have a stash of candy in my office file cabinet." Roman paused for a moment. "And in my car. We won't discuss my house."
Her eyes twinkling, Kayla held up her hand palm out. "I won't ask."
"I inherited my sweet tooth from my grandmother," he said. "The one that was married to the cranky old guy. She used to make me sugar cookies. I miss her cookies."
"Your grandfather told me she passed away two years ago." Kayla shifted, recrossing her legs. "He wouldn't say anything more about her. I didn't push him for more information."
Roman took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We all took it hard when Gran died, but I believe Granddad took it the hardest. And why shouldn't he? They were married for over fifty years."
"He'll never get over losing her," Kayla uttered with a sad expression on her face.
"We never get over losing someone we love," Roman said kindly. "We learn to move on without them, one day at a time."
She tilted her head slightly to one side. "Is that what you tell your grieving patients'?"
"Yes."
"What made you want to be a Psychologist?"
Before Roman could answer the question Warren returned to the living room.