"The Love Doctor is her own best Patient"
Reviewed by Stacey Hayman
Posted February 28, 2009
Romance Contemporary
Babette Robinson has a problem choosing one thing and
sticking to it, personally and professionally. When she
discovers her true talent lies in reading body language and
using that talent to repairing romantic relationships;
Babette feels like she should have been doing this all
along. After almost year of successfully mending fences,
Babette is hit with her hardest case. Kitty Carelle,
Birmingham, Alabama socialite has hired Babette to help
rekindle her relationship with Jeff Eubanks. Kitty and Jeff
would have been married by now except for the fact she ran
off a month before the wedding. But the challenging part is
that Jeff dated Babette right before he dated -and proposed
to- Kitty. Determined to prove she's finally chosen the
right path for herself, Babette goes to Destin, Florida to
win Jeff back for Kitty. But after meeting up with Jeff
again, she realizes there's a real problem ahead. Babette
might want to mend her own fence with Jeff. Can she remain
true to her career and to her heart?
Granny Gert and Babette's sister Clarise with her husband
Ethan, help create an entertaining backdrop for the main
storyline. And they all embrace their unique family and
romantic relationships, making the light-hearted, humorous
writing even more endearing.
SUMMARY
Babette Robinson changes careers and lovers as easily as she
changes hairstyles. But after losing her last job, she's
beginning to see that her feather-to-the-wind mentality can
be unsatisfying in the long run. She's been helping a string
of friends solve their relationship problems, and when one
pal points out to Babette that she could make a career out
of curing people's romantic ills, she decides to dub herself
"The Love Doctor" -- a match-mender-for-hire.
Living in Birmingham, Alabama, with its
elite class of wealthy women, Babette has access to the
ideal clientele, including the well-known Birmingham
socialite Kitty Carelle. Having unceremoniously dumped her
lover, Kitty now regrets her hasty decision and wants him
back. Trouble is, the man Kitty seeks to recapture is none
other than Jeff Eubanks -- Babette's ex! The carefree
Babette of three years ago had written him off with a shrug,
yet now she can't help remembering that he did give her the
absolute best sex of her life...not to mention his charm,
good looks, and brains.
To save her newfound
career and prove she can stick with something--if not
someone--Babette is determined to mend Kitty and Jeff's
broken relationship, but Jeff has other plans. He was crazy
about Babette when she suddenly bailed on their
relationship, and after Kitty did the same he became
convinced that no woman can ever commit. To prove his point,
Jeff issues Babette a challenge: no flirting for a week, and
he'll talk to Kitty. That is, if, after seven tempting
nights on the beach with Jeff, it's still with Kitty that
she wants him to reconcile.
ExcerptChapter 1
Babette Robinson’s breath caught, her stomach knotted,
and her heart did that whole
shall-I-keep-beating-or-shall-I-stop thing when Ethan
Eubanks glanced across the reception hall, held up his glass
of champagne and smiled toward her table. He was smiling at
his wife, Babette’s sister, but that didn’t matter. Babette
simply couldn’t control the typical response to seeing him,
not because she had any feelings for Ethan that way,
but because he was the spitting image of his twin, and
whether she liked it or not, she always had some form of
Jeff’s image tickling the back of her brain. It was such a
nice image, after all. And seeing Ethan brought it right up
front and center.
Sandy blond hair, turquoise eyes, sexy smirk. Jeff’s
skin was more golden, due to his full-time beach residence,
but other than that, the two were identical. Either one of
them could double for Jude Law and totally be convincing.
But it wasn’t Jude that Babette saw when she looked at her
brother-in-law; it was Jeff. And her current vision of Jeff
had him in the buff.
Again, not a bad image.
"Hellloooo. Earth to Babette, and a gentle
reminder--that’s Ethan," Clarise said, leaning forward and
snapping her fingers in front of Babette’s face.
"Trust me, I know."
"Yet you still see Jeff when you look at him. You
realize that it’s somewhat uncomfortable to watch my
sister’s eyes glaze over every time she looks at my
husband."
"Right. Sorry."
"I realize that I should take it easy on you, since
it’s your birthday," Clarise said, "but I’d like you to at
least attempt to remember which brother is attending Richard
and Genie’s wedding."
"Jeff should be here," Babette mumbled against her
glass, then sipped more champagne. "Richard is his friend,
and Jeff was with me when I first realized that he still
loved Genie. It’s because of us that they worked things out
last year, and that now they’re married."
"Exactly what did Jeff have to do with it?" Clarise
took a bite of the chocolate groom’s cake, then hummed her
contentment. "Sure, he introduced you to his friends, but
you’re the one who made it your mission to learn the story
behind the tension between them and get them back together."
"Well, I wouldn’t have met them without Jeff, now would
I?"
Clarise swallowed another bite of cake, smirked. "Jeff
has been swamped with work lately. Plus, it isn’t like he
lives right down the street. It’s a six-hour drive from
Destin to Birmingham."
"His family owns the company. He can take off when he
wants, and you know it. And I know how far it is." She’d
driven it, plenty of times, when she’d visited him at his
condo on the beach. Visited. Such a light word for
everything they experienced in that condo, and on that
beach, for that matter.
"For someone who hasn’t even spoken to him in months,
you seem mighty disappointed that he didn’t show. And you’ve
hardly spent any time at all with your gorgeous date."
Clarise scanned the reception hall. "Where is he, anyway?"
"Probably with Jesilyn."
"With Jesilyn?" Clarise’s brows hitched beneath her
bangs. Jesilyn was one of their dearest friends. Babette had
spotted the sparks between her and Robbie immediately, so
she left them alone. Or rather, she’d nudged them along.
Didn’t matter that he’d come with Babette; she’d only
brought him on the off-chance of making Jeff jealous anyway.
"Yes, with Jesilyn," Babette said dismissively. "And
that’s fine. Now, what were we talking about, again?" She
knew, of course, but she didn’t want to be the one to bring
Jeff back up. And she also knew that Clarise wouldn’t
disappoint.
"We were talking about my brother-in-law," Clarise
answered. "You’ve hardly mentioned him since your split in
the summer, and suddenly you can’t stop talking about him.
Wouldn’t have anything to do with that announcement in the
society section of today’s paper, would it?"
"Announcement?" Babette turned her eyes toward the
dance floor and wished that the band would start back up.
The current lull in music wasn’t affording her any
opportunity to feign more interest in the dancing than the
conversation.
"Nice try, sis," Clarise said, and Babette glanced back
to see her grinning as she took another bite. "But I know
you too well. You read the announcement that he and Kitty
Carelle are engaged, and you’re wondering if I know the
details."
Babette started to answer, but was halted by the sudden
appearance of their grandmother.
"Whew, I’ve got to sit down for a breather. The twins
are adorable, but they’re running their great-grandmother
ragged." Gertrude Robinson dropped into an empty chair at
the table, placed a big slab of white wedding cake in front
of her and grinned at Clarise and Babette. Her bold platinum
waves were a little less exuberant than they had been at the
wedding service, kind of flopping in toward her face and
shielding her eyes, but nothing could shield the sparkling
pink glitter on her cheeks. "Don’t you just love a Christmas
wedding?" she asked, plucking a swirl of icing off the side
of her cake and popping it in her mouth. "All those
poinsettias and candles. Really something."
"Granny," Clarise said, looking behind her grandmother
as she spoke, "Where are Lindy and Little Ethan?"
"Oh, don’t worry, child." She picked up a cloth napkin
from the table and used it to fan her flushed face. "I left
your little angels in good hands. They’re currently going
through the dessert line with their Grandma Olivia."
Babette hadn’t realized Jeff’s mother was attending the
event, but it made sense, since Richard worked as an
executive for Eubanks Elegant Apparel. "I didn’t know Olivia
was here. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her," Babette
said, gazing toward the dessert line to see if she could
spot her niece and nephew, and Jeff’s mother.
"And what, I wonder, would you and Olivia discuss, if
you happened to talk to her?" Clarise glanced at Granny Gert
before adding, "I mean, after you saw today’s society pages
and all."
Granny’s focus turned from Clarise to Babette. "I
wondered if you read it, but you didn’t say anything, and I
figured you might not want to talk about him today, on your
birthday, and especially at a wedding. Kind of always
thought we’d be attending a wedding between you two, you
know, instead of him planning one with that uppity society
queen. Personally, I think you should call him up, or drive
down to see him in Florida, whatever it takes for you two to
work things out. He isn’t married yet. I’ve told you about
how I hooked your grandfather, haven’t I, the first time I
found him alone in his barn?"
Before Babette or Clarise could answer, Granny barreled
on. "He was nineteen, I was seventeen, and he had my heart,
same way he did the rest of his life, God rest his soul."
She winked. "I had to give him a bit of a push in that barn,
but it was worth the effort."
"And how was it you gave him a push?" Clarise asked, as
though she couldn’t recite Granny Gert’s famed story by
heart. Babette leaned forward to hear, even though she’d
heard it just as many times.
Granny Gert grinned, excited. "I told him I had a mind
to kiss him and a mind to marry him. And then I did both."
She turned toward Babette. "I used gumption, and I think you
should use some too, with Jeff, if you want to know how I
feel about it."
Babette never had to wonder how Granny Gert felt about
anything. Granny never made any bones about telling her, in
detail, and quite often. And since they lived next door to
each other, with Granny occupying the other half of
Babette’s duplex, Granny’s opinion was always readily
available.
The band started back up playing Shout! and
every person on the dance floor shot their hands in the air
and chanted the lyrics. Genie, still in her wedding gown,
shimmied up to the stage and danced with the lead singer,
while her new husband cheered.
Babette took advantage of the increased noise level to
ask what she really wanted to know. "Okay, I’ll admit it. I
saw the announcement, and I want details."
Clarise shrugged. "I don’t have any. In fact, we just
learned about the engagement this morning. I think Jeff had
planned to tell the family in person, but then he learned
that the news had leaked to the paper, and he called."
"And?" Babette asked.
"He said that he was getting married, and he’d tell us
all about it when they come home in a few days for
Christmas."
Genie’s voice, horribly off key, suddenly boomed over
the microphone as the song reached its climax. "Now,
wai-a-ait a minute," she sang, while Richard, and
every other guest, burst out laughing.
"Clarise, I’m taking the little darlings out to the
foyer to see the big Christmas tree." Olivia Eubanks’s voice
was louder than Babette had ever heard it, with her trying
to pitch it over Genie’s shrill singing and over the
four-year-olds, both begging to go see the "big tree."
"That’s fine," Clarise said, ruffling Little Ethan’s
hair as she spoke. "As long as both of you are good for
Grandma Olivia."
They bobbed their heads, while Olivia’s attention moved
past her daughter-in-law and to Clarise’s sister. "Babette,
I almost didn’t recognize you with the long blond hair. It’s
quite stunning, dear."
"Thanks." Babette noted the crisp winter white suit
that perfectly accented Olivia’s classic creamy white waves.
The look was something totally befitting Meryl Streep’s
character in The Devil Wears Prada, except where
Miranda Priestly’s face always held a hint of disdain toward
the world in general, Olivia’s shone with kindness.
"Last time I saw you, you had a black bob, didn’t you?
Actually, that looked very nice as well," Olivia said with a
smile, while Clarise gave the kids additional instructions
on what to touch, or not to touch, when they saw the
Christmas tree.
"I thought she looked like Jackie Kennedy then, didn’t
you?" Granny Gert asked Olivia.
"Yes, I did," Olivia agreed. "Oh, Babette, I wanted to
compliment you on the work you did for the Fall catalog.
Preston went on and on about the photos you took at the last
shoot, and when I saw the finished product, I could see why.
You really are an excellent photographer."
"It helps that all of the Eubanks clothes are so
incredible," Babette said.
"Well, I’d agree with you there, though I know that the
models help, too. However, I also know it takes a
photographer with a good eye to capture the look my husband
and his boys want for the business."
His boys. Ethan and Jeff were thirty-eight, but still
"boys" in Olivia’s eyes. Babette mentally willed Olivia to
say something about Jeff’s engagement.
Didn’t happen.
"Preston mentioned you’d taken a new job at an assisted
living center, but he said you’d still be able to shoot our
catalogs," Olivia said. "If we put out more than two
catalogs a year, maybe your work with us could be something
more than part time. Anyway, I’m glad to know that you can
do both."
Babette swallowed, nodded. Maybe Olivia wouldn’t ask
for details about the new job. Thankfully, Lindy and Little
Ethan chose that moment to grab her hands and begin tugging
her from the table.
"Come on," Little Ethan urged.
Olivia laughed, said her goodbyes, then let the twins
lead her away, before Babette learned anything at all about
Jeff and Kitty Carelle.
She turned back to Granny and Clarise, while the music
died to a whisper as the group got to the "a little bit
softer now" part.
"Oh, honey, you were fired again, weren’t you?" Granny
asked, loudly.
Babette prayed that the "little bit louder"
portion of the song got here soon, before everyone at
the reception heard her job woes.
"It just happened yesterday. How did you hear already?"
She really hadn’t wanted to discuss yet another job loss on
her birthday.
Granny’s mouth curled in a bit, not quite a frown, but
not far from it. "Oh, honey, no one told me. I could see it
on your face when Olivia mentioned it."
"I missed it, but I was looking at the kids," Clarise
said. "What happened?"
"Basically, I caused a fight between two guys in
wheelchairs, then received a pink slip with yesterday’s
paycheck."
The corners of Granny Gert’s pink glossed lips gave up
the fight and tugged all the way down in a full frown. "I
don’t get it. You were doing great at the assisted living
center. All of my friends there loved you. They said so, all
the time. Why, Maud Lovett said just this week that they’d
never had more fun with an activities director than with
you."
"So how, exactly, did you cause a wheelchair fight?"
Clarise asked, and she had the good manners not to smile or
laugh when she said it, quite a feat, when considering the
image those words created: silver hair, slinging fists, and
wheelchairs. An odd combination, for sure, but one that
Babette had seen firsthand. Not pretty.
"Remember how I told you I thought Lambert Wiggins had
his eye on one of the ladies from the quilting class?"
Clarise shook her head. "No, I don’t."
Granny nodded. "You told me, dear, when you were
explaining the whole body language thing. And you know, I’m
learning to spot some of the signs myself, when I’m at the
center and out shopping and all. It does come in handy."
" ‘The body language thing?’ " Clarise asked.
"Babette has been studying up on body language," Granny
said.
Clarise rubbed her eyes, then squinted toward Babette.
"Studying up? Oh, Babette, are you going back to school
again?"
"Don’t worry, I’m learning about it on my own. I’m done
with degrees. Heaven knows I can’t handle any more student
loans."
Clarise sighed. Babette couldn’t blame her; the whole
family knew she’d dug herself in deep with all of the debt
she owed to three different universities, because she simply
couldn’t make up her mind about what she wanted to do. Too
bad she didn’t realize she liked trying to figure people out
before her job at Shady Pines. Maybe she could’ve gotten a
degree in psychology or something like that.
"Babette has a knack for reading folks," Granny said,
her train of thought apparently in line with Babette’s.
"Why, she told me after her first day at the center who hung
out with who, who despised who, and even who the denture
thief was."
"The denture thief? Someone was actually stealing
dentures?" Clarise wrinkled her nose disgustedly, while
Babette laughed.
"Not exactly stealing. Borrowing. And that one really
didn’t involve any body language. I’d noticed that Ms.
Mulhaney was on a soft diet, since she didn’t have teeth.
Then I saw her munching on an apple at lunch. Later on, she
was all gums again. And in the meantime, the denture thief
had stolen Ms. Fenton’s dentures, for about an hour."
"Long enough to eat an apple," Clarise said, smothering
her laugh.
"Yep."
Granny Gert wasn’t as subtle with her laughter, and
actually snorted. Thankfully, all of the wedding guests at
the tables surrounding them seemed involved in their own
conversations and didn’t notice. "Poor Ms. Mulhaney."
"Anyway, at Shady Pines, I started noticing that I’m
pretty good at reading people, their body language, even
interpreting what they’re really saying when they speak.
Most of the time, I’m spot on. And lately, I’ve been reading
up on body language and researching it on the Internet, and
I’ve bought a few books on intimate behavior, that kind of
thing." She shrugged. "You know me, always wanting to learn
something new."
"And getting bored with the things you already know,"
Clarise said, grinning.
"Show Clarise how you do it," Granny urged. "Why don’t
you read Clarise?"
Clarise sat back in her chair and raised her brows
speculatively. "Okay, I’m game. Read me, sis."
"Read you?"
"Sure. What is my body language saying, right now?"
Babette realized that she had, in fact, surveyed
Clarise’s actions throughout this conversation and had a
good idea exactly what her sister was thinking. "It isn’t
all that difficult, once you figure out the signs."
"Okay, so read me."
Babette narrowed her eyes a bit, focusing on her
sister. "You’re trying to act interested in this
conversation, but your hands are busy fiddling with your
fork. However, your eyes are still paying attention to me."
She paused, recalling something else noteworthy, then added,
"But when Granny mentioned I was studying how to read
people, you rubbed your eyes."
Clarise smirked. "And that tells you, what?"
"The fact that you’re fiddling with the fork but
looking at me tells me that you understand what I’m saying
is important, but you’ve got half a piece of chocolate cake
left and you’re wanting to delve back in. But you don’t want
to seem rude."
Granny Gert laughed, and Clarise joined in. "Okay, I do
want more cake, and I’m assuming it’s okay with you for me
to have it while you discuss your latest dilemma."
"Knock yourself out."
"Is that all you can tell about me now?" Clarise asked,
then took a big bite of cake.
"You rubbed your eyes," Babette repeated. "That means
you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s a sign of
disbelief, and in this case, I’d say you couldn’t believe
that I was possibly going back to school again. Which I’m
not, as I said."
"Not bad," Clarise said.
"It’s kind of fun, once you start learning how to do
it. And I am still learning--certainly not an expert or
anything."
"She got the idea from Dr. Phil," Granny said. "You
know, he talks about body language and such a good bit, and
Babette heard him mention it, decided that she might be able
to use body language to help her figure out what the folks
at the center were thinking, and then she started putting it
in action." Granny sounded quite impressed.
Babette was too, right up until her new technique cost
her another job.
"Okay, so what does your learning how to read body
language have to do with you getting fired from Shady
Pines?" Clarise asked.
"Something to do with Lambert Wiggins and the lady from
the quilting class? And I know Lambert, of course, but you’d
better fill Clarise in," Granny said.
"Okay. Lambert Wiggins, an eighty-two-year-old with a
sweet smile, signed up for the quilting class. That was odd
to begin with, because he was the only male in the class,
but he said his mama used to quilt and he’d always had an
interest in it. However, he wasn’t just interested in
quilting. He was interested in Joslyn Peal, a
sixty-nine-year-old lady in the same class. Reading the two
of them wasn’t hard at all. They held eye contact a little
longer than they needed to, gave those sideways glances,
smiled, you know, the easy signs. So I asked Lambert if he’d
like me to formally introduce them. Kind of funny that
they’re the age they are and still shy, don’t you think?"
"It’s sweet," Clarise said, while Granny shook her
head.
"Oh, child, you didn’t."
Apparently, Granny knew the story behind the story, but
Babette had been clueless. "I did. I talked to both of them,
found out they were interested in having a date, and then I
brought in all of the necessities for a candlelight dinner,
music, good soft food--he has dentures--and everything for a
night of elderly romance."
Clarise grinned. "How sweet! So what went wrong?"
"Joslyn was married, and her husband happened to be
Lambert’s canasta partner. The dinner never happened,
because Roy Peal found out and took after Lambert in his
wheelchair. He had one of those battery-operated
state-of-the-art models and nearly put Lambert in the grave
when he ran him down. Lambert’s in a wheelchair too, but
he’s got the plain old-fashioned type. He didn’t stand a
chance against Joslyn’s husband’s motorized chair."
"So that’s how you started a wheelchair fight."
Clarise smothered her laughter, but it still caused a few
glances from the surrounding tables, primarily due to the
band’s break between songs.
"Oh, child, I could’ve told you Joslyn’s married. I
swear, that woman needs to stop that flirting. Honestly,
still trying to make Roy jealous, after all these years.
She’s lucky he didn’t have a heart attack."
"I was lucky Lambert didn’t have one, the way Roy came
after him. But he didn’t, just a few cuts and bruises. And
I, naturally, got that pink slip with my paycheck. They said
I should pay attention to details, particularly wedding
rings, but I haven’t grown accustomed to checking left hands
of the eighty-plus crowd."
"Well, sis, I’ve gotta hand it to you. No one loses a
job the way you do." Clarise, still giggling, stood from the
table. "I’m going to find my husband and sneak in a dance
while the twins are occupied with Olivia." She started to
walk away, then turned back toward the table. "Babette,
don’t you think you should go spend a little time with your
date?"
Babette and Granny Gert followed Clarise’s line of
sight until they spotted Robbie and Jesilyn talking on the
other side of the room.
"No, I’d rather him spend time with Jesilyn. Maybe
they’ll even make it to a third date."
Clarise sat back down. "You know, I’m sure the twins
are going to be looking at that tree for a while. Ethan and
I will have that dance later."
"Tell you what, I’ll go out to the lobby and check out
the big tree too. That way I can help Olivia entertain them
a little longer." Granny stood hurriedly. "I’m sure we’ll
keep them occupied long enough for you two to have a
sisterly chat, and probably long enough for you to have a
dance or two." She winked at Clarise, then turned and left.
"She thinks we’re going to talk about sex," Clarise
said.
Babette nodded. "I figured that much, but she should’ve
stuck around, since I haven’t got anything to talk about
anyway." She reached for Granny’s mostly untouched piece of
cake. "You think she’ll mind if I finish this?"
"You know Granny; she’ll go get herself another piece
if she wants one." Clarise grinned. "And she was probably
willing to let the cake go to let us talk about how long
it’s been since you’ve had a third date."
Clarise--and evidently Granny Gert--knew Babette’s
typical rules for dating. Regardless of the fact that she
never denied her enjoyment of great sex, she also never had
sex with a guy before the third date. Well, except for Jeff,
and that baffled her. Lots of things about Jeff baffled her,
if she wanted to get right down to it. Which she didn’t. Not
now, anyway.
"Granny’s right, that hottie you brought is mighty
pleasing on the eyes. You sure he isn’t third-date
material?"
"Not for me, but I definitely see sparks between him
and Jesilyn."
"I don’t know. They’re talking and all, but lots of
people talk and dance at weddings. And I thought I heard you
tell him earlier that you didn’t feel like dancing earlier,
and that he should dance with Jesilyn, since she’s here
solo. He could just be waiting for you to decide to dance."
Babette scooted her chair closer to her sister. "Come
here. I’ll show you." She indicated Jesilyn and Robbie, now
sitting at a table across the reception hall with their
glasses of punch in hand. "Okay. See how they’re sitting?"
Babette smiled, her point proven.
Or so she thought.
"They’re sitting by each other," Clarise said,
unconvinced. "I’m not sure that qualifies as anything more
than the fact that the reception hall is crowded, and they
need a place to sit."
"You honestly don’t see it?"
"See what?"
Babette sighed. "Okay, for starters, in the past two
minutes, they glanced at each other at least twice, with
Jesilyn looking down and away afterward, because she’s
wanting him to extend the gaze."
Clarise’s brows dipped down, and her mouth quirked to
the side. "They glanced at each other because they’re being
polite, and I don’t get how her looking down and away is
telling him she’s interested in him. Seems like that’d mean
she wasn’t."
"If she wasn’t, she’d just look away and keep her eyes
level."
"You seriously believe that?" Clarise shook her head.
"Sorry sis, but I can’t buy into this one."
"The eye glance isn’t all I’ve noticed," Babette said,
surprised by how much fun she was having showing Clarise how
telling body language could be.
"Okay, I’ll bite. What else do you see?"
"One, they’re both sitting open, relaxed in each
other’s company and receptive to the other’s ideas."
"Open?"
Babette turned toward Clarise and draped one arm over
the back of the chair, then she leaned slightly forward and
raised her brows as though waiting to hear whatever Clarise
said. "This is open posture." She then pushed her back
against the chair, folded her arms against her chest and
looked away. "This is closed."
Clarise looked at Robbie and Jesilyn. "Okay, I agree.
They’re open. Anything else?"
"Look at the way they’re sitting, turned toward each
other and almost mirroring their positions, one leg crossed
over the other."
Clarise nodded.
"That says they’re in the same place emotionally. And
now look; Jesilyn is touching her cheek while she talks.
That means she’d like him to touch her there--not
necessarily now, but sometime."
Clarise tilted her head as she studied the pair. "So
now, she’s rubbing a finger over her lower lip_._._."
"Ooh, they’re definitely getting along. She’s thinking
about being kissed."
Maybe, if Babette nudged things along, Robbie might
even give Jesilyn a ride home from the reception. Then
Babette wouldn’t have to worry about trying to explain why
she didn’t want to go out with him again.
"He might not be the third-date guy for me, but their
body language says maybe he is for Jesilyn."
"Not trying to be too nosey, but you haven’t gotten to
the third date with anyone since Jeff, have you?" Clarise
may not be able to read other people’s body language, but
she had an uncanny knack for reading Babette; now,
unfortunately, was no exception.
Babette stabbed her cake with her fork, then popped the
big chunk of cake and icing in her mouth, chewed and
swallowed. She really needed more sugar for this
conversation. "You know, now that you mention it, I
haven’t had a third date with anyone since Jeff."
Might as well lay it all out there for her sister to
dissect, since she was bound and determined to do it anyway.
"I’m surprised you ended things with him, if he still
has this kind of effect on you. It’s been a year and a
half." Clarise leaned forward, obviously studying Babette’s
reaction to her words.
Babette focused on her cake, took another bite.
"I know you said you didn’t want to talk about what
happened, but have you seen him at all since then? Or at
least talked to him?"
"No, and just so you know, I’m not sure I was the one
that ended it."
"I thought you told me that you were talking on the
phone, the two of you were fighting, and you hung up on him.
That’s all you said about it, and of course, he never said
anything at all, so I have to wonder--what were you arguing
over?"
"I’d tell you, if I could remember. I honestly thought
we were having one of our typical fightfests, and that we’d
have fun making up. I know that we were talking, then I told
him I was going to hang up, and then he said if I did, he
wouldn’t call me back."
"But you thought he would."
"Sure, eventually." Babette did remember a bit of the
conversation, and oddly enough, she recalled that they were
talking about Clarise and Ethan and the kids. That’s why
Jeff’s weird attitude really threw her off. She didn’t think
it was all that big of an argument, but apparently it had
been, at least on his end, and by the time she realized
that, he wasn’t calling.
And Babette--being Babette--didn’t call him either. Two
stubborn souls does not a good relationship make. However,
they did have good sex. Great sex. Superb sex. But besides
missing their notable tangos beneath the sheets, she
couldn’t deny that she also missed sparring with him,
chatting with him, and laughing with him, for that matter.
"Neither of you were seeing anyone else, right?"
"Well, we never said we were only dating each other. It
wasn’t that kind of relationship."
Clarise cocked a brow.
"Okay, I wasn’t seeing anyone else, but I sure wasn’t
going to tell him that."
Babette’s tiny beaded purse started quivering on the
table, and she fished out her vibrating phone, then eyed the
caller ID. "It’s Mom," she said, smiling, and a bit thankful
that her mother had literally saved her by the bell. Or
rather, the vibration.
Her mother, father, and his sister Madge all lived in a
retirement community in Fort Lauderdale. They’d sent Babette
a birthday card with a check inside. No matter how much she
needed the money, she wouldn’t cash the check, but it was
the thought that counted.
"Happy birthday, dear," her mother said as soon as
Babette answered. "How’s your day?"
"Everything’s great." It wasn’t completely a lie. The
cake was good, and her mother had just saved her from having
to delve into her feelings for Jeff with Clarise. Not bad.
"Daddy and Aunt Madge there?" Babette asked, assuming that
they were probably, as usual, calling her via the
speakerphone.
"Yes, we’re here. Happy birthday, honey," her father
said, and Babette grinned.
"Happy Birthday," Madge echoed. "So, you found a guy
yet? Or maybe a job?"
Babette rolled her eyes, and Clarise, leaning close
enough to the phone to hear Madge’s yell, stifled a giggle.
Babette was used to her aunt’s teasing, and typically added
fuel to the flame by announcing whatever her latest job
venture, date, or degree choice happened to be, but she
wasn’t in the mood to mess with Aunt Madge today. So she
simply said, "Thanks."
"Are you having a good birthday?" Babette mentally
translated her mother’s question--have you met a guy yet,
and is he there with you? Janie Robinson was many
things, but subtle wasn’t one.
"I’m having a terrific birthday. Matter of fact, I’m
eating cake, right now." No, it wasn’t birthday cake, and it
wasn’t even a cake made for her, but it was cake. And good
cake too. She fingered another dab of icing.
"How old are you, Babette?" This came from Aunt Madge.
"Thirty-four." No use lying.
"Wow, next year, you’re officially midlife, right?"
"I don’t believe midlife is thirty-five now, Madge,"
Babette’s mother corrected.
"Well, if it isn’t, it’s mighty darn close," Madge
snapped.
Clarise’s hand moved to her mouth while she only
marginally controlled her laughter.
Babette glared at her, and Clarise merely shrugged.
"Anyway, how’s the job situation going? You still at
the retirement center?" her father asked.
Babette shook her head at Clarise. No way did she want
to divulge that she’d lost job number twenty-three. She’d
tell her parents later, when it wasn’t her birthday and when
Aunt Madge wasn’t listening.
"I just finished my third week," she said, holding back
that she’d also just finished her last day.
"That’s some kind of record, isn’t it?" her aunt asked,
then she grunted, and Babette had a sneaky suspicion that
she’d been elbowed.
"Not yet. My current record is eight weeks." Babette
silently dared Aunt Madge to respond. Smartly, and probably
with the threat of another elbow to the belly, she remained
silent.
"Well, have you met anybody interesting?" her mother
asked, as Babette had expected that she would.
"No, Mom, I haven’t."
"Well, that’s okay, dear," her mother said consolingly.
"You still have plenty of time."
Plenty of time. She could almost hear her biological
clock ticking. Tick, tick, clunk. That clock was
breaking, and she wasn’t all that certain how much she
cared.
"Mom, Dad, Aunt Madge, I’ve got to let you go. I’m
actually at a wedding reception, and the groom is getting
ready to make a toast." Richard was, in fact, moving to the
stage with a flute of champagne in hand. "Love you." She
waited for them to say bye, then gladly disconnected from
the uncomfortable conversation.
"Oh, good, we made it back just in time for the toast,"
Granny Gert said, as she and the twins shuffled toward the
table. "Olivia went to find Preston."
Ethan also made his way over, brushing a kiss across
Clarise’s cheek before scooping up Lindy in his arms.
"Let’s see what Mr. Richard has to say," he said to
Lindy, while Little Ethan squirmed his way into Clarise’s
lap to get closer to the last bit of cake on her plate.
Richard cleared his throat into the microphone, then
eloquently thanked everyone for attending the most important
event of his life. He smiled at Genie, toasted her, and then
proclaimed his endless love for his new bride. It was a
beautiful speech, and the entire crowd cheered and applauded
when it ended. But then, Richard cleared his throat again,
raised his voice a bit more than before, and turned his
attention toward another woman in the room.
Babette.
"And I need to add a special thank you to one guest in
particular, because without her help, Genie and I would
still be denying our love. Please join me in toasting
Babette Robinson, my personal love doctor." The crowd turned
toward Babette. Every glass lifted and then toasted her
accomplishment.
Granny Gert sipped her champagne and then poked
Babette’s arm. "He’s right, you know."
"Right?" Babette questioned.
"He called you a love doctor, said that he wouldn’t
have worked things out with Genie without you. A love
doctor. Don’t know why no one has thought of that before. I
mean, it isn’t something you’d traditionally think of, when
you’re thinking about employment, but given your gift for
reading people, I think you could do it. And you are between
jobs now," she added with a wink.
Truth was, Babette had spent most of her adult life
between jobs. But she was still itching to know what Granny
was talking about. A love doctor?
"Oh, I see what you’re saying, Granny," Clarise said.
"People pay for matchmaking services, don’t they? Just look
at eHarmony and Match.com." Then her mouth quirked to the
side. "But Babette didn’t actually match-make Richard and
Genie."
"She wouldn’t be matchmaking, she’d be match-
mending. She’d mend relationships that have gone off
to the wayside. Heaven knows everyone has someone hiding in
their past that they’d like to know_._._._what if things
would’ve happened differently? Or something like that.
Babette could help them find out. Sure, there’s lots of
people out there matching people, but there isn’t anyone
mending old fences."
"You think I could actually be a love doctor?"
"People pay real doctors big bucks to fix them when
they’re sick," Granny said. "Why wouldn’t they pay a love
doctor big bucks to fix a love gone bad?"
"Clarise," Ethan said, and Babette sensed the voice of
reason about to make an appearance in this bizarre
conversation.
But Clarise had other plans. She looked pointedly at
her husband. "Yes, Ethan." Her look said plenty, but mostly,
don’t mess with my sister, or you won’t be messing with me
tonight.
Evidently he got it, and he grinned. "I think I’ll take
the kids over to get some rose petals. Richard and Genie
should be leaving soon, and I don’t want them to miss out on
tossing them at the bride and groom."
Clarise returned his grin. "Great idea."
"A love doctor, huh?" Babette said, after Ethan left.
"I can totally see you doing it," Clarise said. "You’d
be terrific. And you could use your new body language
skills."
Babette thought about it. She’d been through
twenty-three jobs with no success, but never had she created
her own position. And they were right; she did like helping
people get together. Just look at Richard and Genie. She
glanced across the room where Jesilyn was standing near
Robbie but looking at Babette. Jesilyn waited for Robbie to
look in the other direction, then held up the okay sign,
obviously questioning Babette on whether she had a problem
with the two of them together.
Babette smiled, reciprocated the gesture, then looked
back to her sister and grandmother. "Babette Robinson, the
love doctor," she whispered softly, but inside she was
cheering. She likened the idea to Will Smith’s character in
the movie Hitch, except where he used technique (and
a bit of deception) to get people together, Babette would
simply use the feelings and emotions that already existed,
but were hiding beneath the surface. She’d need to get as
many books as she could find on body language and intimate
behavior. If she was going to do this right, she’d need to
hone her skills.
How about that, four degrees and she was trying out a
career where she was basically her own instructor.
Excitement bubbled through her.
"What do you think?" Granny Gert asked.
"I think," she said, "that it just might work."
Copyright © 2009 by Kelley St. John
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