Cranberry Red: A Novel

46. Ben and Dr. Phillips

193 How does my schedule look today?” Ben asked when he arrived at his office and greeted Brittani. Over the past several weeks, Ben and Brittani had reached an unspoken truce. Neither of them said anything to the other about who was boss in the office, although the issue remained in the background of everything that went on. Ben did his job; Brittani did hers. “Every hour filled this morning with appointments,” Brittani said. “And you’re booked for a noon lunch meeting with Dr. Phillips. She said she’d meet you at the Lone Pine restaurant.” “I didn’t know anything about a meeting with Phillips,” Ben sputtered. “It’s Dr. Phillips, Ben. Dr. Phillips.” Brittani was smiling, as she had no great love for Sara Phillips, whom she considered pompous, arrogant, and way over her head in the job she had. “Well, what does Dr. Phillips want?” Ben said with a sarcastic tone to his voice. “She didn’t say. She called late yesterday when you were out and asked for the time—so I penciled it in.” “So I should jump anytime the good doctor calls?” “Ben, you are working for a business. You bet you jump when the good doctor calls. It’s the way business works. You’re in the pecking order; we’re all in the pecking order. Somebody pecks on you, somebody pecks on me, somebody pecks on Dr. Phillips.” Ben and Dr. Phillips 46 Ben let the statement pass. He wondered if Brittani had any idea where the phrase “pecking order” originated—with poultry, of course, where the pecking was literal. He walked into his office and prepared for his first appointment , a cranberry grower who had some questions about Cranberry Red. Though he didn’t spend much time looking at the paperwork, Ben had noticed that when cranberry growers stopped by, they were billed at only half the rate as the other “customers,” as Brittani liked to refer to them. The morning passed quickly. After his last appointment, with a fellow east of town who wanted to establish a pick-your-own strawberry operation , Ben walked over to the Lone Pine restaurant. “She’s sitting in that back booth,” Mazy said when he entered the place. She pointed with her order pad. The Lone Pine was nearly filled with customers , those who had come for lunch, and the ever-present retired men’s coffee group that started drinking coffee around nine and most mornings stayed on until noon. Ben wondered if one day he might be part of such a group, something for geezers to do in the autumn days of their lives. He walked past several people he knew, said hello, and moved to the back booth. “Hello, Ben,” said Dr. Sara Phillips. No smile, no handshake. “I haven’t ordered yet.” “Hello,” Ben replied as he slid into the booth opposite her and glanced at the menu. Phillips had an unopened leather-covered pad in front of her. “What’s good here these days?” she asked. “Most everything. I like the Turkey BLT sandwich myself.” “How’s the family?” “Doing well.” “Your daughter is a pre-med student at UW–Madison, right? She like it?” “I think so,” said Ben. “She gets good grades, likes her professors, and she’s made some good friends.” “That’s the way it should be. What about your son, what was his name again?” “It’s Josh. He’s going to the technical college in Wisconsin Rapids. Wants to be an auto mechanic.” 194 Ben and Dr. Phillips 195 Ben and Dr. Phillips “Nothing wrong with that. Sure can use some good mechanics these days. Cars have gotten so complicated. And your wife, Beth. How is she?” “She’s fine. Having a good time with her correspondence course at Osborne.” “We call them online courses these days, Ben. She’s in our nursepractitioner program, I believe.” “That’s right. And loving every minute of it. Best thing to happen to her in a long time.” “Glad to hear that. Always good to hear about a happy customer. And you, Ben, how’s the job going?” “Pretty good,” Ben said. He was wondering what Phillips wanted, and why she was asking all the questions. “Just pretty good?” “Some days better than others.” “And the not-so-good days, you want to tell me about them?” Phillips was all business...