The Marriage Portrait

“Oh-oh. He is getting old, isn’t he?” Lynn, the other vet on staff, teased.

Michael didn’t need to ask to what the number seven referred. His all-female staff made no secret of the poll they had each month. Instead of having sports pools as most offices had, they had a Dr. Mac pool. Every woman in the office put in five bucks and made a guess as to how many women would bring in a healthy pet just for the chance to spend a few minutes with him.

“Dr. Mac, you should get married and put all those poor women out of their misery,” Jenny advised.

He sighed. “At my age, Jenny, all the good ones are gone.”

“You’re just not looking in the right places,” Tabitha told him, handing him a large square of chocolate cake iced with white frosting.

Michael wasn’t really looking at all. He’d never had to. Women found him. Ever since he’d played football in high school and college, he hadn’t lacked for female companions. And as for marriage, he’d never thought much about it. Why should he? He had a great life as a single guy and he didn’t need to complicate it with the kind of love romanticized by songs and movies.

“Are you still dating Julia?” Tabitha wanted to know.

“Oh, good heavens, no. She’s gone. It’s a Colleen now,” Jenny answered.

“It’s nobody right now,” Michael corrected her.

“That might change real soon,” Phyllis, the lab tech, said smugly.

“Of course it’ll change,” another piped up. “It’s simply a matter of time.”

Michael just grinned in amusement. Over the years he’d grown accustomed to their good-natured teasing.

“Yes, it is. Listen to this,” Phyllis commanded everyone, waving the newspaper in midair. “It’s Dr. Mac’s horoscope for having a birthday today,” she announced, then cleared her throat before reading aloud. “‘You may help someone who is down on his or her luck by buying his or her wares.’”

“That’s nothing new. Dr. Mac does that all the time. He takes Henry’s products even though he knows we won’t be able to use them all,” Jenny reminded everyone.

Phyllis continued. “Your lucky money months are September and January.”

“Guess that means we should wait to hit him up for a raise, eh?” Tabitha quipped.

Phyllis smiled, then went on. “‘Listen to the advice of a close relative and act upon it.’”

“I don’t have any close relatives except Tessie, and I always take her advice,” Michael said.

“And so you should. She’s a wise woman,” Phyllis told him, then finished reading the horoscope. “Now here’s the best part. ‘Take a romantic risk in the next three weeks because you’re more emotionally available to love now than you’ve ever been in the past.’”

“Oh-oh. Maybe Dr. Mac is finally going to meet his match,” Tabitha said with a challenging gleam in her eye.

Michael laughed. “You ladies know I can’t give my heart away. It belongs to all of you.”

That produced a chorus of groans.

“Spoken like a true bachelor,” Lynn quipped.

Michael threw up his hands in defense. “Hey! I’m only thirty-five. Even if that is old in dog years, it’s young in man years. And you ladies know I’m perfectly happy being your boss and dedicating my time and energy to what I love most—my patients. Speaking of which, aren’t there any here this morning?”

“They can wait,” Tabitha assured him. “Finish your cake.”

“And tell us your plans for this evening,” Jenny added.

“I believe Tessie is cooking a special meal for me. I offered to take her out to dinner, but she insisted on cooking it herself,” he answered.

“And so you should let her. She’s enjoys fussing over you,” Tabitha said. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful woman for a mother.”

Michael couldn’t argue that one. He was very fortunate indeed to have Tessie McFerrin for a mother. He finished the cake, washed it down with a couple of sips from his bottle of mineral water, then reached for his lab coat.

“Time for work,” he announced as he slipped his arms into the sleeves of the white jacket.

“You will keep us posted, won’t you, Dr. Mac?” Phyllis asked.

“About what?”

“Whether or not your horoscope is right.”

“You mean about the lucky months?” he quipped with a smile.

Phyllis gave him a playful punch on the arm, prompting Tabitha to say, “Never mind him, Phyl. His time is coming. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Michael smiled to himself. Little did they know, he thought, and went to greet his first patient.

EVERY TIME MICHAEL DROVE to Tessie’s home on Lake Minnetonka, he could feel a sense of calmness wash over him. There was something to be said about going home, especially when that home was located on one of the state’s largest lakes in a sleepy little town nearly surrounded by water.

When Tessie and her husband had first built the house, it had been one of the many charming waterfront cottages dotting the shoreline. As the metropolitan area of Minneapolis and St. Paul had spread westward, the region had changed from a vacation resort to a residential community.

Now it was a playground for visitors, plus home to many who were fortunate enough to have one of the residences on the waterfront. Tessie was one of those residents living in a lake community yet having access to the city.

After knocking on her door and getting no answer, Michael reached into his pocket for his keys and let himself into the house.

“Tessie?” he called out, his voice resonating in the large, open hallway. He poked his head into the parlor, but she wasn’t sitting in her favorite chair—a rocker he’d given her for her birthday a few years back. As he crossed the foyer, an Abyssinian cat slinked across the tiled floor, meowing as she rubbed up against his legs.

He bent to scratch her neck. “Hey, Cleo. How’s life treating you?”

After a couple more meows, the cat slunk away. Michael guessed that Tessie was in the kitchen, for the aroma of pot roast tickled his nose. “Tessie?” he called out again, but still there was no answer.

He soon discovered she wasn’t busy at work preparing dinner. Although wonderful aromas permeated the kitchen, and numerous pots sat on the stove, Tessie was nowhere in sight.

The back door, however, was open. He stepped outside and made a quick survey of the yard. He saw the patio, where wicker furniture sat empty. Geraniums hung from the eaves of the gazebo, but the chairs inside were vacant. The sandy beach was empty, the bench at the end of the dock held no one. Finally he looked toward the flower garden that stretched the entire length of the yard. There he caught a glimpse of a wide-brimmed sun hat, but it slipped around the corner of the house.

“Tessie?” he called out, and the hat came back into full view.

A smiling Tessie waved her gloved hand and smiled. “Oh, you’re here already! I’ll be right there,” she called out to him, and disappeared momentarily before emerging with an armful of lilacs.

Watching her scoot across the yard caused a smile to appear on Michael’s face. For a woman of eighty-one, she was extremely agile and full of energy. Although her hair was as white as snow, there was nothing else about Tessie McFerrin that identified her as an octogenarian. She had a zest for life few women half her age possessed.

When she reached the back stoop, she motioned for him to bend so she could give him a hug and a kiss. “Happy Birthday, Michael. I’m so glad you’re spending it with me.”

“Me, too,” he told her, opening the back door for her. “Dinner smells wonderful.”