Free A New Kind of Bliss by Bettye Griffin Page B

you up in half an hour?”
    “That’ll work. See you then.”
     
    Over the next week I talked to Aaron every day, often more than once, and saw him whenever I could. I thought it amusing how slowly the sexual side of our relationship was progressing. The day we went to the museum, which was the first time Aaron met my mother, he actually kissed my cheek upon returning me home. The next time we had dinner, during the week, he returned to kissing me on the mouth, but still no tongue. I wanted a real kiss so bad, complete with his arms around me, I feared I might lose it and thrust my tongue into his mouth.
    When not daydreaming about how it would feel to be held in Aaron’s arms, I spent the week putting in applications and went for an interview at a local practice. Dr. Wiley Norman had been practicing in Euliss for as long as I could remember. Two of his four sons had now taken over the practice. I didn’t know any of the Norman offspring. Although they were in my general age group, they’d gone to parochial school.
    Working at the Norman Family Practice would be more convenient than working at Euliss General, because it was closer. And employment at a private practice meant I wouldn’t have to sit through one of those insufferable two-day orientations, complete with film shorts where the actors were picked up from Theater 101. They made Tanis’s performances look Oscar worthy. And I swear, if I had to listen to just one more human resources associate whose blouse pulled because it was too tight across the chest and who tapped the floor with her ankle-strap shoes tell me how to dress appropriately for the office, I think I might lose it.
    The Norman practice was located in what was laughingly referred to as “the plaza,” a rather upscale euphemism for the town center that was downtown Euliss. The plaza consisted of a pharmacy, a liquor store, an outdoor newsstand, four banks, maybe three pizzerias, an electronics store that offered a layaway plan (naturally), a furniture store where the furniture’s drawers were guaranteed to stick, a music store, a deli, a fish market, a cheap shoe store, and about eight discount stores. If you wanted jewelry or clothing or decent shoes or good furniture you had to go to the mall in the white section of town.
    I arrived for my interview promptly at ten minutes of two. The patients in the waiting room were typical of a busy family practice, ranging from screaming babies, exasperated-looking young mothers, an obviously ill youngster whose whining was interrupted only by coughing fits, and a few elderly folks. The one thing that jumped out at me was that they were all black and Latino.
    I found myself unable to conceal my shock when I was ushered into an office and greeted by none other than Wiley Norman himself.
    “Dr. Norman,” I said, surprise in my voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Uh, are you still practicing?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice, but the man was a contemporary of my mother. He had to be at least seventy-five years old. The only thing more ridiculous would be if he still used the suffix of “Junior.”
    He chuckled, a wheezy sound that itself sounded old. “Oh, I just come in a few days a month to see some of my longtime patients. My sons are good doctors, mind you, but some of the old-timers don’t feel comfortable with anyone so young.”
    Having the old man in the office sure made for a hell of a lot of Dr. Normans, but his reasons did make sense. After all, the man’s specialty was family medicine. His age wouldn’t deter him from accurately diagnosing and treating everyday maladies. It wasn’t like he used scalpels or other sharp instruments that could be dangerous in a less-than-steady hand.
    “I’m so sorry to hear about your father, Emily,” he said.
    “Thank you. We appreciated you and Mrs. Norman stopping by the funeral home to pay your respects.”
    “And are you returning to Euliss?”
    I began to relax. This