Page 29 of Deck the Fire Halls

Doctor Humphries wasin his office when I arrived. He was an absolute gentleman. From that generation of understated men who dressed well, tipped their hats to women, and spoke well-chosen words.

Except now he was muttering to himself.

I cleared my throat, not wanting to startle him. “Everything okay?”

He laughed as he hung his hat and scarf. “Just talking to myself,” he said.

I almost laughed. I hadn’t really intended to bring it up, but now that he’d mentioned it... “Oh. Uh. Funny you should mention talking to yourself.”

He paused as he hung his coat. “And why would that be funny?”

“Well, I, uh...” Jeez. There was no other way to say this. “I have found myself having conversations with myself a lot in the last few days.”

His faded blue eyes sparkled as he hung his coat. “Don’t suppose you’ve been answering yourself too?”

“Well, actually, yes.”

He stopped then, when he realized I was being serious. “Listen, Doctor O’Reilly. I’m gonna tell you a little secret.” He slowly put on his white doctor coat. “I talk to myself all the time. And I answer myself too, and I haven’t found any reason for concern yet. Some days it’s the most intelligent conversation we can have.” He winked.

“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting his sense of humor.

He smiled as he shook his head. “You’re a good doctor and you’ve just left a high-stress, fast-paced career and moved to a new town with a population smaller than the number of people who probably lived in your old apartment building. You’re allowed to be questioning things in your head, sorting out your thoughts, and putting them in order.”

“I guess . . .”

“Do the conversations with yourself invoke thoughts of concern? For your well-being or safety of others?

“What? Oh no. No, nothing like that. It’s just me, and the voice in my head telling me I might actually be happy here, if I give it a chance.”

He smiled then and nodded sagely. “Sounds like good advice.”

I tried to smile in return. “Well, maybe... I just... I’m not really in the habit of having full conversations with myself in bed at night.” I regretted saying that second part the moment it was out of my mouth. “Sorry. That was too much information.”

Doctor Humphries studied me for a long while. “I can see you’re worried, so I tell you what,” he said. “If youthink there’s any reason for concern, and if it escalates, or if the conversations in your head start to involve voices other than your own, then come let me know. But for now, just give yourself a few more days to settle in. You’re probably out of routine, in a new place, meeting new people. New job.” He gestured at his office, to the clinic. “I think you’ll be fine.”

It was hard not to be reassured by him. He was so good at this. Because I did feel better. Kind of. “Okay, thanks.”

“And for what it’s worth,” he said gently, “I think your subconscious is right.”

“My what?”

“The voice in your head with which you’ve been having conversations.”

“Of course.” Right. Yes. “Uh, which part, exactly?”

“Where you were telling yourself to give Hartbridge a chance.”

Now my smile was more genuine. “Gonna give it my best.”

“Good,” he replied, just as Katie arrived and our day began. It was a relaxed day with a steady stream of patients, and Katie kept everything running like a well-oiled machine. Me included.

And I liked it. The way she structured my day really suited me. I liked the no-nonsense professional but still polite way Katie did everything. I liked her. Everyone did.

My day was a breeze.

I got home with enough time and energy to make myself a delicious dinner of chicken, pasta, and salad.Even poured a glass of wine and watched some ridiculous show on Netflix.

It was glorious.

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