Turn Left at Sanity by Nancy Warren

Author:Nancy Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Something the doctor said played back in his head, and since this was Back of Beyond, Idaho, the doc seemed to have all the time in the world to chatter. So he kicked the old conversational ball in the air. “You said she was good to you when you first moved here.”

“Yes. She was.” Was it Joe’s imagination or did he seem guarded? Maybe Emmylou had done more for the good doctor than bake him welcome-to-the-neighborhood brownies? Not that it mattered, of course. The part that had him curious was that the man said he’d moved here.

He could understand someone like Emmylou

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being born here and coming back when she inherited the old brothel—at least, if he tried really hard, he got it. But who’d move here?

“Why would you choose to live here?”

The doctor looked at Joe as though he might be running a very high, delirium-causing fever.

“Beaverton’s a great place to live.”

“It’s the back end of nowhere and it’s full of lunatics.”

Gord Hartnett smiled. “Some of the residents around here are a little eccentric, it’s true, but they’re good people. Crime’s nil—”

“Hah, don’t forget Klepto Katie.”

“Miss Trevellen. Yes. An unfortunate habit, but she always returns what she’s, um . . . borrowed. It’s also gorgeous countryside, and the weather’s good. We’re close to the mountains, if you like skiing and hiking.”

He encountered a blank stare from Joe, whose idea of mountain climbing was taking the stairs when his elevator was out of order. He exercised with maximum efficiency and liked to be into the gym, exercised, showered, and out within sixty minutes. No steam rooms, no rub-down, just get in, sweat, breathe hard, get out.

No likelihood of encountering bears or cougars.

“I’ll tell you something interesting,” continued Dr. Hartnett, obviously realizing a list of outdoor recreation opportunities wasn’t going to convert Joe into a Beaverton cheerleader, “the people in this area are healthier.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in a classic doctor-ruminating-over-fascinating-research-data pose. “They are statistically healthier than their counterparts elsewhere in the country.”

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“Statistics can be misleading.”

“They live longer, too. About five to seven years longer, on average. Now why do you suppose that is?”

“They’re all too crazy to know how old they are or if they’re sick?” Joe wondered aloud.

“You are a very intolerant man. Pretty typical of serious type A’s. And I suspect you’re harbor-ing a great deal of unexpressed anger.”

“Oh, give me a break. You want to live in this town, fine. But spare me the real estate pitch and the bonus head-shrinking. All right?”

“I’ll say good-bye then,” Dr. Hartnett said, rising and holding out a hand. “You’ll be released tomorrow. If you decide to stay a week, call my office and set up an appointment. If you go home, get your doctor to get in touch and I’ll send over the file.”

Knowing he’d been surly to a guy who was doing his best, Joe smiled and shook hands.

“Thanks. You took good care of me.”

“Now start taking care of yourself.”

And with that

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