Never Too Late by Julie Blair

and love for interior decorating, and ideas were already forming. If I stay.

    *

    “Dr. Hammond isn’t joining us?” Carla asked when they were all seated. She loved the food at Mama Mia and to think Jamie’s clinic was just down the street. How had they never run into each other?
    “Probably not,” Sara said.
    Carla tried to set aside her disappointment. She’d wanted to see Jamie outside the clinic.
    “She used to come with us but not in a while. A lot of things have changed since…you know, don’t you?” Sara asked.
    “Yes.” Carla detected both concern and uncertainty in Sara’s voice.
    “She holes up in her office poring over patient files. Don and I offered to help, but she says it’s not our problem.”
    “I have great respect for Jamie,” Don added. “I’ll be a better doctor because of her mentoring. But she’s doing what we tell patients not to do—she’s trying to diagnose herself and fix the problem with home remedies. I want to strangle her.” He laughed nervously and Sara put her arm around his shoulder, a sight that made them all laugh because of the height difference.
    “What was she like before all this?” Carla couldn’t help trying to sneak a peek at a different Jamie, a Jamie without those dark circles under her eyes, a Jamie who smiled more.
    “Serious, but funny and energetic,” Marci said. “It’s hard to explain. She takes patient treatment seriously, always demands the best of herself and all of us, but we had this, I don’t know, camaraderie in the clinic.”
    Carla soaked up every tidbit of information about Jamie that came out during the lunch where conversation bounced easily from chiropractic to their personal lives. She liked Jamie’s staff and could see herself fitting into the fabric of the clinic. If I stay.
    “I’m going to order something to take back for Dr. Hammond,” Carla said as they were finishing their meal. “Any suggestions?”
    “She usually ordered pasta,” Don said.
    “I’ll skip dessert and head back so Dr. Hammond has time to eat,” Carla said when the take-out order arrived. Someone needed to make sure Jamie ate lunch. She needed to get her full lunch hour, too. Anyone who wanted to come in got added to Jamie’s schedule. Putting a stop to that was another in the list of changes she’d make. If I stay.

    *

    Jamie answered the knock on her door and stepped back as Carla brushed past her holding a white Styrofoam box. Carla’s perfume matched her personality—sweet but not too, subtle, easy to like.
    “I took a chance on rigatoni with meat sauce.”
    “Thank you.” Jamie’s stomach growled its appreciation. “What do I owe you?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. You have fifteen minutes before your next patient.” Carla closed the door behind her.
    Jamie opened the box and inhaled. Betty often brought her lunch, but Carla doing it surprised her. When was the last time Sheryl came by to have lunch with her? Last year? Jamie tried to remember as she ate the delicious pasta. They were drifting apart and she didn’t like it. She needed to get this business mess sorted out so she could pay more attention to her relationship.
    Fifteen minutes later she took a deep breath, forcing her focus into the zone she entered when treating patients. It would be eight again before she finished because of the patients added to her schedule. Success came with a price. Her father had never turned anyone away and neither would she.
    She started to turn off the iPod but stopped when she heard the opening lines of one of the songs from Melissa’s first album. She’d played it that night. Jamie had written down every song she remembered from the concert on the plane ride home. She still had that list and Carla’s note. Surely the memories would stop once she got used to seeing Carla every day.

    *

    Carla stared at the stack of insurance forms that needed Jamie’s signature. Betty must have forgotten to deliver them to Jamie’s office on her way