The Living End by Lisa Samson

Author:Lisa Samson [Samson, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-55273-0
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2012-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Richard King is the most stunning African American man in existence. Actually, he’s the most stunning man, period. His eyes slant upward slightly, dark brown yet luminous, deeper in tone than his aged-oak colored skin. He’s warm in appearance and in his bedside manner. In other words, he’s just delicious, and I’ve always wondered if his wife sees his beauty the way I do. I do hope so. He deserves love in hearty portions.

He came to Lafayette School years and years ago out of a horribly abusive situation. Smart and kind and conscientious and even then wanting to be a doctor. He loves children.

He’s the perfect man, though he assures me otherwise.

This note from him, offering, of course, to do anything he can, gladdens my heart. He loved Joey so much. And the way he talks! So utterly beautiful. Joey tried to talk him into politics, you know, as a sideline to the doctoring. “With your talent for rhetoric, you could really change the world, Rich,” Joey said many times.

But Richard would have none of it. “This is where I’m supposed to be, with my patients and my family. That’s all the world-changing I need.”

“Smart man,” Joey would say.

I imagine he could give a rousing stump speech that even Cheeta might appreciate.

“Call me. Richard.” His note ended that way. So I do.

“Ring Factory Family Health Center,” a chipper voice answers. They’re very chipper at the Ring Factory Family Health Center. I should know. I’ve been going there for years.

“Dr. King, please.”

“He’s with a patient. Can I tell him who’s calling?”

“Pearly Laurel.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Laurel. It’s Gayle.”

“Hey, Gayle.”

“I know he’ll want to know you’re on the phone. By the way, we were so sad to hear about Dr. Laurel.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll miss him.”

“Yes, well, he was the type of person to be missed.”

“That’s for sure. Hold on, I’ll get Dr. King.”

I wait for several minutes, and that’s fine. I set my breakfast bowl in the dishwasher and wipe down the counter. It begins to snow. Oh, the luscious sound of falling snow. I heard yesterday in Luray we’re in for the year’s biggest storm.

“Miss Pearly!”

“Richie!”

“I’m so glad you called.”

“I just got your note.”

“Thanks for sending out your cards. But I want you to know I was at the funeral.”

“I figured. How was it?”

“Tearful. A lot of the guys were there. We went down to the Chat ’n’ Chew afterward and reminisced. We haven’t all been together in years. Shame it took something like this.”

“It always does. Did the school notify you of his passing?”

“No. We saw it in the Aegis. Nice long article too. Almost worthy of the man himself.”

“I wonder why nobody told me about that?”

“Don’t know.”

“Richie, I just wanted to call and thank you for the offer.”

“You need anything?”

“Not right now. But you never know.”

He chuckles. “That’s right.”

“How’s the family? The kids?”

“Well, Sheila’s fine. And we’re up to three now. All boys.”

“Great!”

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been in for a checkup.”

“I know. I’m still down in Virginia. And guess what? I’m down to five cigarettes a day.

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