“Tell me,” he said.
“Oh hell, where to start. I’ve seen him break up fights, rescue drowning kids and dogs! You didn’t think a dog could drown, did you? He was tangled in fishing line. He’s given refuge to the lost, tracked and killed a bad cat, a mountain lion who attacked a hiker. That almost never happens and Sully got in so much trouble! Took him forever to work through that. But maybe the most important thing he does—he creates relationships with people. Unforgettable relationships. They write him, send him pictures, mention him in their writing, their blogs, long after they’ve gone. They hang out at the store and he listens to their tales from the trails. He gives them tips, does little favors, lets them charge up their phones and stuff so they can make contact with friends and family. He tells jokes, encourages people, praises them, and most of that without anyone knowing that’s what he’s doing. He lets kids’ organizations come out and camp for free—he’s partial to the autistic kids. Sully relates to a lot of them and I have no idea why. He doesn’t know why, either. He plows in winter—he clears our road and then he goes out to the neighbors who are snowed in and clears theirs. He’s the third generation—his grandfather built the store and Sully didn’t get a son to run it. All he’s got is me. What’s going to happen to this place when Sully can’t run it anymore? Will the next owner carry on that legacy? You have no idea how much Sully is loved. Needed.”
It was still and quiet for a moment. The sound of night birds and crickets and the occasional splash of a fish was all she heard.
He tightened his arm slightly, pulling her a bit closer. “What a lucky man,” he said softly.
“I never looked at it that way, as Sully being the lucky one. I always thought it was the rest of us who were lucky.”
“It’s the rest of you, too. One of the things I think about a lot when I’m alone is what makes a life well spent? It sounds like you described one.”
“Yeah, Sully is very happy. I’d say he’s good at making relationships with everyone. Well, except maybe me. He never tried very hard to make a relationship with me.”
“You? I thought you two were very close.”
“We are, I guess. Except my mother took me away from him. And of course he never came after me. He said I was better off.” She shrugged. “I guess I should get over it by now. Huh?”
He gave her shoulders another squeeze. “Some things stay with us a long time,” he said. “No one knows that better than me, the boy raised on the road by Jed ‘Looney Tunes’ Jones.”
* * *
Maggie had a new friend. The days around the store and grounds were busy but in the evenings, when things were quiet, she wandered down to the lakefront or over to Cal’s campsite. One night she invited him to meet her on her front porch at the house. They talked about their lives, even though she wasn’t sure how much of his was true.
“Did I mention I’m being sued?” she said.
“No. No wonder you don’t want to go back to work!”
“Oh, I’ve been sued before. It might settle or just go away but if it doesn’t it could drag on. There was no malpractice. We did everything humanly possible. It really took its toll on me—it was a hard one. A terrible accident involving teenagers. We all did what we could, but were so helpless. I’ve lost patients before—in my business it happens too often. It was awful.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you worried about the lawsuit?” he asked.
“I worry about everything,” she admitted. “But when I’m in the moment, in surgery, I’m not worrying, I’m performing and thinking hard. Before and after, I worry too much.”
“Oh hell, where to start. I’ve seen him break up fights, rescue drowning kids and dogs! You didn’t think a dog could drown, did you? He was tangled in fishing line. He’s given refuge to the lost, tracked and killed a bad cat, a mountain lion who attacked a hiker. That almost never happens and Sully got in so much trouble! Took him forever to work through that. But maybe the most important thing he does—he creates relationships with people. Unforgettable relationships. They write him, send him pictures, mention him in their writing, their blogs, long after they’ve gone. They hang out at the store and he listens to their tales from the trails. He gives them tips, does little favors, lets them charge up their phones and stuff so they can make contact with friends and family. He tells jokes, encourages people, praises them, and most of that without anyone knowing that’s what he’s doing. He lets kids’ organizations come out and camp for free—he’s partial to the autistic kids. Sully relates to a lot of them and I have no idea why. He doesn’t know why, either. He plows in winter—he clears our road and then he goes out to the neighbors who are snowed in and clears theirs. He’s the third generation—his grandfather built the store and Sully didn’t get a son to run it. All he’s got is me. What’s going to happen to this place when Sully can’t run it anymore? Will the next owner carry on that legacy? You have no idea how much Sully is loved. Needed.”
It was still and quiet for a moment. The sound of night birds and crickets and the occasional splash of a fish was all she heard.
He tightened his arm slightly, pulling her a bit closer. “What a lucky man,” he said softly.
“I never looked at it that way, as Sully being the lucky one. I always thought it was the rest of us who were lucky.”
“It’s the rest of you, too. One of the things I think about a lot when I’m alone is what makes a life well spent? It sounds like you described one.”
“Yeah, Sully is very happy. I’d say he’s good at making relationships with everyone. Well, except maybe me. He never tried very hard to make a relationship with me.”
“You? I thought you two were very close.”
“We are, I guess. Except my mother took me away from him. And of course he never came after me. He said I was better off.” She shrugged. “I guess I should get over it by now. Huh?”
He gave her shoulders another squeeze. “Some things stay with us a long time,” he said. “No one knows that better than me, the boy raised on the road by Jed ‘Looney Tunes’ Jones.”
* * *
Maggie had a new friend. The days around the store and grounds were busy but in the evenings, when things were quiet, she wandered down to the lakefront or over to Cal’s campsite. One night she invited him to meet her on her front porch at the house. They talked about their lives, even though she wasn’t sure how much of his was true.
“Did I mention I’m being sued?” she said.
“No. No wonder you don’t want to go back to work!”
“Oh, I’ve been sued before. It might settle or just go away but if it doesn’t it could drag on. There was no malpractice. We did everything humanly possible. It really took its toll on me—it was a hard one. A terrible accident involving teenagers. We all did what we could, but were so helpless. I’ve lost patients before—in my business it happens too often. It was awful.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you worried about the lawsuit?” he asked.
“I worry about everything,” she admitted. “But when I’m in the moment, in surgery, I’m not worrying, I’m performing and thinking hard. Before and after, I worry too much.”
