She hesitated, agitated. "The usual."
"Maybe you need a new surgeon. He hasn't done anything for you in a while," Logan suggested.
I'd dump you before Dr. Wynn, she replied silently.
"If we got married, you'd have health insurance. You could find a good doctor," Logan added.
"We've discussed this. We're not getting married when I'm on my deathbed, and Dr. Wynn is the best there is!" she snapped. Deidre stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk, too angry at the idea of losing her friend and doctor to care when someone jostled by her.
"The best there is doesn't take on charity cases, Dee."
"You know, Logan, maybe he likes me enough to want to help me. There are a lot of good people in the world."
"He likes you too much, in my opinion. I told you I got a bad vibe from him when we had dinner a few weeks ago."
"Whatever. You've got work to do and I need to pack," she said. "You care which shirts I pack for you?"
"Leave out the one you got me for my birthday. I'll wear it tonight."
"Okay. Good luck with the tax stuff. I'll have everything ready for when you get back," she said.
"See you tonight." He hung up before she could say farewell.
Deidre glared at the phone, comparing Logan's unconcerned response with Dr. Wynn's kindness. She joined a few others at a corner waiting to cross the street. She pulled up Dr. Wynn's office number on her cell, tempted to invite him to the beach this weekend instead of Logan.
Someone near her gasped, and Deidre glanced up, expecting to see a fender bender or similar issue in the street. A woman nearby was staring at her. Deidre saw the strange flash of a red, glowing tattoo on the lady's exposed neck. It faded when she looked directly at it.
"Are you here for me?" the woman asked in a hushed tone.
Deidre turned to see if there was someone behind her the stranger spoke to. There wasn't.
"Um, no," she replied. "I'm just … waiting for the green light."
"You must be here for someone. As long as it's not me." The woman was smartly dressed in a suit. She didn't seem like the lunatic kind. She beamed a smile and faced the street again.
Deidre shook her head. She'd been asked that question more than once while out and didn't understand it, unless it was some sort of odd Southern greeting. As soon as the signal to walk flashed, she put some distance between her and the crazy woman.
It took five blocks before her agitation at Logan faded, and she started paying attention to the world around her. Her angry march turned into a stroll. Deidre stopped to admire bouquets being sold on a street corner. Most of them were wilting in the Atlanta heat.