A Match for the Doctor by Marie Ferrarella Page A

something beautiful on a canvas and then someone blindfolds you just before you begin.”
    Feeling as if she’d ignored the housekeeper longenough, Kennon stopped talking about work and smiled at the woman who appeared to be taking in every word that had just been said. “How are you feeling, Edna?”
    â€œA little shaky,” she confessed.
    â€œWell, this will help,” Kennon promised. Since there was no table for the bowl, Kennon volunteered her services instead. “Here, I’ll hold the bowl and plate up for you while you eat—unless you’d like me to feed you,” she offered.
    â€œI haven’t had to be fed since I was in a high chair,” Edna told her, slowly pulling herself up into a sitting position and trying to get comfortable. “I’ll do this myself, thank you.” With that she took the spoon from Kennon.
    The woman looked exceedingly weak to her. “I’ll still hold the bowl,” Kennon told her cheerfully. Anticipating Edna’s protest, she was quick to add, “It’s no problem.”
    About to say something, Edna stopped and then shifted her eyes to Simon. Shaking her head, she said, “She’s a stubborn one.”
    â€œI hadn’t noticed,” Simon replied dryly. He looked at Edna, debating whether to remain down here with the woman or not. Right now, he felt like a fifth wheel—or, technically, a third one. “You’ll be all right if I leave you alone?”
    Kennon cleared her throat. “In case you haven’t noticed, Doctor, she’s not alone. I’m here.”
    â€œI’m assuming that you’ll be going home, or to your office, or wherever it is that you go to, soon,” he emphasized.
    â€œEventually.” Business was slow and if somethingcame up, Nathan would either handle it, or call her. Either way, she was covered.
    A smile began to curve the corners of Edna’s mouth. “It appears that I am in good hands, Doctor. Thank you for your concern, but I’m sure that I will be just fine.”
    With a nod, and not wanting to get drawn into another conversation, Simon withdrew. His intention was to go up to his room. He had no plans beyond that. His days and nights were still comprised of a myriad of tiny, disjointed pieces, glittering, winking mosaics that made up patterns with no rhyme or reason.
    But his intentions were abruptly arrested as he passed the kitchen once again. The strong aroma wafting from the large pot on the stove reminded him that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. Nor could he really remember if he’d had dinner the night before. He’d ordered out for the girls and Edna, but hadn’t eaten with them. Or alone, either.
    His stomach reminded him that it did need tribute occasionally.
    He supposed there was nothing to be lost by sampling a little of what that decorator with the smart mouth had made.
    Pausing, he put a little of the soup into one of the remaining bowls. It amounted to barely more than a couple of large spoonfuls. He sipped a small spoonful. It was followed by a second. And then a third. By then he decided that he should have a proper serving.
    No sense in wasting her efforts, he told himself just before he set the filled bowl down on the counter and dug in.
    He didn’t hear her come into the kitchen, but he saw her reflection in the black oven door, which was justabove the stove and at eye level. He braced himself for another assault of rhetoric.
    But she didn’t cross to him. Instead, she quietly withdrew from the room, leaving him in peace to eat her soup.
    Maybe the woman was intuitive after all.
    But he doubted it.

Chapter Five
    â€œI s she going to be coming back, Daddy?”
    Madelyn’s questions came right on the heels of the quick greeting she’d given him when he picked her and her sister up from school that afternoon. She looked at him pointedly after she scrambled into the backseat and sat down beside