As I headed down Sheepville Pike, not far from the Wet Hen pottery studio, I passed Ardine Smalls running in the opposite direction. She waved at me, and I risked letting go of the handle bars for a second to wave back.
I wouldn’t have pictured her for a runner, but she ran in the same nerdy way she did everything, with arms flailing, and legs almost going in circles as she went. Her sneakers were so old they were retro. I’d bet a hundred dollars they were the same ones she’d had in college.
I kept going, past the cornfields and The Paddocks riding stables, a smile on my face.
I took the back roads to avoid heavy traffic as much as possible, and about 11:15 a.m. I rolled into Doylestown.
I parked the bike close to Kunes’s medical practice, and locked it to one of the antique black gas lamps. His office was on State Street, not far from the hospital.
I opened the glass door and walked into a large, open, and very modern reception area. The light fixtures were like flat neon spaceships overlapping on the ceiling. Orange and aqua armless sectional seating curved through the space in long wavy lines. What appeared to be a glass partition around the waiting room was actually a row of fish tanks, as tall as a man’s body.
I could imagine the same two words coming out of every kid’s mouth that came in here for the first time. Wow. Cool.
“Hi, Daisy!” Bettina was at the circular front desk and she stood up and gave me a broad smile, showing those impossibly white teeth, with a hint of dimples. She was wearing a long black cowl-neck sweater and regular dress pants. If I hadn’t known, I wouldn’t have been able to tell she was pregnant.
“Wasn’t the auction so much fun? I’m still pinching myself at how well it went. I talked Birch into keeping a couple of the Barbie dolls, just in case we have a girl.”
She laid a hand across her stomach, the very picture of health, with glowing peach skin and thick, shiny hair. “He’s hoping it’s a girl, but I don’t mind, either way.”
I smiled back. “Yes, it was a great success. Have you found a house yet?” With the amount they’d made on the auction, they probably wouldn’t even need to wait for Harriet’s to sell.
“Yes. One that just came on the market. It’s a lovely farmhouse near Ringing Springs Park. It has a deck in the back that’s built around an old tree.”
“Hey, I know just the one you mean. That’s a gorgeous house.”
“You’ll have to come over in the summer. I’m sure we’ll do lots of entertaining out there.”
“I’d love to.” Assuming your husband isn’t in jail by then. “And how are the wedding plans coming along?”
“It’s a very small affair. Just a couple of people from this office, a few close friends, and my parents. Sixteen of us. We’re having dinner at a private room at the Bridgewater Inn.”
“You’re not inviting the wine cl—I mean, the ladies from the park?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. We’re keeping it very low-key.” She paused, as if trying to figure out if this was just a social call. “Birch is over at Meadow Farms with Angus right now doing the final clean-out of the house.”
At that moment, a teenage boy came up to the counter. “How are you doing, Jason?” she said. She handed him a small device and promptly knocked over a pile of files. “Whoops.” Bettina laughed at her own clumsiness as she gathered the papers together.
“I’m good,” he said, grinning at me. Jason was probably about sixteen or seventeen, with a hint of acne, and showing the slim, muscular build that would develop into a powerful physique when he matured.