Doctor’s Duties by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 18

LOGAN

Dun…dun-dundun…dun-da-dun-da-dun-da-dun…

It was a little before five the next day, the day of the dinner, and I was in my kitchen staring down at the text from Abby with a confused expression on my face.

OK, that was supposed to be the Funeral March song. I don’t think it translated.

Another text.

Wait, I just remembered you can send YouTube links.

Next came a YouTube link to the song in question. I played it, recognizing the tune right away.

It was supposed to be a joke since we’re on our way and it’s like, um, going to be as fun as a funeral.

That got a laugh out of me.

Sorry, I’m *really* nervous and I’ve already got a corny sense of humor.

It’s fine,I typed. And the joke was appreciated.

Ha, thanks. How’s it looking there?

I turned around in the kitchen, Lexi hard at work at the counter putting the finishing touches on the meal.

“Hey, Lex!” I said. “Say ‘hi’ to Abby!”

Lexi smiled broadly as she held up a plate of delicious looking roasted asparagus. I snapped a photo and sent it over.

Omg, that looks so amazing. I owe you guys so much that it’s not even funny.

Don’t worry about it. What’s the ETA for you and the folks?

Google Maps says twenty minutes. That enough time or you want me to come up with a distraction or something?

No distractions needed – come on over and we’ll be ready for you.

See you soon!The words were followed with the tense face emoji with its teeth clenched together.

“They’re going to be here soon?” Lexi asked, her eyes on the spread.

“Twenty minutes. That going to be enough time?”

“For sure. I’ve got the charcuterie board and stuffed mushroom appetizers for you guys to snack on while you have drinks. Then after that we’ve got the lovely roasted asparagus and filet mignon for dinner. And the cheesecake’s cooling in the fridge right now.”

“Sounds amazing,” I said, putting my hands on my hips and taking in the sight – not to mention the smells.

“Trust me – I know Abby’s parents, and this’ll go over like crazy. They’re really classy people, and nothing says classic like steak. You get that and a little of that fancy wine I happened to see downstairs in him, and you’ll be good to go.”

“That’s assuming he doesn’t break the wine bottle over my head for being a nearly middle-aged man going after his daughter.”

“Oh, don’t even worry about that,” she said. “You’re, what, thirty-five?”

“Thirty-nine.”

Lexi stepped back and looked me up and down. “You serious? OK, well, I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, that’s only fourteen years apart, which isn’t all that…” She stopped, as thinking better of it. “Well, fourteen years is kind of a lot. But there aren’t any rules on love, right? I mean if this were love. It’s not love, is it?”

I laughed. “Not love. She’s great, but this is all for show.”

“Yeah,” said Lexi as she flashed me a cocky smirk. “Aside from the hooking up part.”

I raised my eyebrows. “She told you that happened?”

Lexi stepped over to the bottle of wine I set out for her, and refilled her glass then poured me one.

“Of course, she did – the first time, at least. Last night she tried to sneak into her bedroom without me seeing her. And I was like, come on. There’s a certain way a girl looks when she’s just had some amazing sex and she had it written all over her face.”

“No hiding things from family, I suppose.”

“You’re right about that. Anyway, I’m not going to press you for details or anything like that.” She leaned in and flicked her eyebrows up. “I mean unless you want to give up some details. Abby was pretty closed lip about it last night.”

“Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

“Sure, of course. So, we got the appetizers here, and I’ll just be finishing up prep on the main courses. Looks like you picked out the wine, nice call on the Dominus Cab, by the way. If I’m not in the kitchen, I’ll be in the chef’s room doing some work stuff on my laptop.”

Her expression went serious. I could tell there was something else on her mind.

“Uh oh,” I said. “What is it?”

“Kind of hard to say, but…can you make sure you don’t, um, mention that I’m here?”

“Wait, what? Why not?”

“The thing is that I’m what you might call the black sheep of the family.”

“You’re kidding. How are you the black sheep? You’ve got a job, you’re fun, and you’re an amazing cook on top of it.”

She chuckled, blushing. “Oh, stop, stop. But seriously, it’s because I did the one thing that you’re not supposed to do in mine and Abby’s family – I went my own way.”

“Right. And now you’re a successful graphic designer and artist.”

“If I didn’t know already, I get it now that your family is a lot different than ours. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.” I picked up my glass of wine and a slice of camembert from the cheese tray, popping it in my mouth.

“It’s that with families like ours, you’re supposed to do what they want you to do. See, Abby wasn’t the only one who got the get married and forget about your dream’s treatment. I got it too.”

“That right?” I asked, glancing over at the charcuterie board, and sizing up my next pick.

“That’s right. But now I work over at Shearling-Simpson doing graphic design. I have never regretted going my own way.”

“Shearling-Simpson?” I asked, spotting a big, juicy-looking cornichon and going in for the kill. “Even I’ve heard of them.”

Lexi reached over and gave my hand a little swat before I had a chance to pluck my piece.

“Easy, doc,” she said. “I’m sure a guy your size needs a six-digit calorie intake just to keep moving but find your fuel somewhere else. Every piece on that tray was placed for maximum aesthetic appeal. And I’m not going to send you out there with some picked over spread.”

“Alright, alright.” I pulled my hand back, and Lexi hurried over to the fridge to take out a package of meat that she hadn’t used for the tray.

I didn’t waste any time popping a bit into my mouth. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you about not spoiling your appetite?”

“That’s the other thing about being a bloke my size – you never really satisfy your appetite. It’s always kind of…there.”

She laughed. “Anyway, long story short is that I went out into the wide world and made a living. My parents wanted me to get hitched and spend my life doing the shopping and brunch thing, but once I had my own income, they didn’t really have much of a choice, now did they?” She grinned. “Shows them for thinking my art degree wouldn’t amount to anything.”

“And now Abby’s parents are worried that she’s going to fall under your malevolent influence.”

“More or less. They know that she and I are roommates – but they don’t like it. They find out I’m here making all this happen and they’re going to be good and pissed.”

“Noted,” I said. “Mum’s the word.”

“Atta boy.”

Before the conversation could go on any further, a text from Abby let me know they’d arrived.

“Moment of truth,” I said. “How do I look?”

Lexi gave me a once-over. “Nice slacks, shoes look like they cost my monthly salary, and your shirt goes with your eyes. You get my vote of approval.”

I chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, don’t keep the Whittington’s waiting – they hate that. You go get the door and I’ll put everything out in the lounge.”

I thanked her once more before starting off toward the front door. It was so strange how I felt, a tinge of hot tension in my stomach as if I really were meeting the parents of my girlfriend…and I were twenty years younger. Of course, it didn’t help matters that Abby and I were doing things that her parents, if they were to find out, most definitely would not approve of.

I stepped to the front door, took a deep breath, and opened it. On the other side was a couple in their fifties, both dressed in the crisp, tailored attire of the upper class. The father was slender and silver-haired and serious-faced, the mother prim and wreathed in elegance despite her casual slacks and blouse. They both wore grave, slightly weary expressions.

Abby was with them, the pursed-lip, wide-eyed expression on her face suggesting she was doing all she could to hide her anxiety about the meeting.

“Mr. and Mrs. Whittington,” I said, extending my hand. “A pleasure to meet you both.”

Mr. Whittington glanced down at my hand as if I might be pulling some sort of stunt. Then he took it and shook it firmly, his grasp and solid eye contact those of a man who’d used them both in countless business deals.

“Dr. Frost,” he said. “Good to finally see you in the flesh.”

“Likewise. And please, call me Logan.” I stepped aside and gestured for both to come in. As they did, I noticed that Mr. Whittington didn’t offer for me to call him by his first name.

It was clear I’d have to do some serious winning over. Abby entered last, leaning in, and placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Good to see you, hon,” she said with an easy smile.

“You too, uh…” my mind raced as I tried to think of a pet name, “uh, hot stuff.”

The surprised look on her face let me know I’d more than missed the mark on that one.

“A lovely home,” said her mother. “And call me Elizabeth, by the way.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. And I hope you like the food as much as the home – Lexi made a wonderful spread.”

Mr. Whittington’s eyes flashed, and I realized right away that I’d majorly screwed up.

“Alexis is a part of this?” He growled, his composure jostling.

Abby glanced in my direction, the words, “are you serious?” written all over her face.

And just like that, the evening was off to a great start.