Confluence - 3. Chapter 3

“Doctor Layne!”

The sound of Owen’s voice from across the street interrupted Layne’s contemplation of the white church before him. Layne was dressed in what he hoped was appropriately formal attire. He carried a silver-handled walking stick, more because he thought it suited the occasion than because he needed it; and he wore a heavy silver ring with a lapis lazuli stone. He turned to see Owen rushing toward him, away from a well-dressed young woman. She was holding an open umbrella, although the rain had ended several minutes before, and began gingerly picking her way among the puddles through which Owen dashed heedlessly

“Good morning, Mr. Owen. Is this lovely young lady by any chance your fiancee?”

“Yes. Hurry, Ellie!”

The young woman kept her focus on the wet street. “Owen, if you were a gentleman, you would wait for me instead of running on ahead.”

Layne said quietly, “She calls you Owen? Sounds like she’s addressing a servant.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Owen whispered, then called, “Sweetheart, it’s not even raining. Stop worrying so much about your dress.”

“You don’t have to pay the cleaning bill,” Ellie said as she reached them. “And this rain! Oh, I hate getting my things wet. Hello, I’m Eleanor Aiken.” She offered her hand to Layne.

“Charmed, Miss Aiken. Winfield Layne at your service.”

“Doctor Layne’s office is next door to the shop,” Owen said. “He studied medicine in Paris.”

“Not exactly --” Layne began.

“Paris-France-Europe?” Ellie said breathlessly. “Oh, my.”

“I have to go help Ma,” Owen said, and rushed back across the street to a grey-haired woman in black.

Two middle-aged women, evidently acquaintances of Ellie’s, had approached. One of them asked, “What’s this about Paris-France-Europe?”

“Doctor Layne here studied medicine in Paris-France-Europe with all the most famous doctors,” Ellie announced with utmost confidence.

“Oh my,” one woman gushed. “Paris-France-Europe!” The other woman echoed in awe, “Oh! Paris-France-Europe!”

“Well, I was there, but my medical studies were principally in--”

“Oh, Doctor Layne, you know perfectly well we’re not going to understand a word if you start speaking all that medical jargon. He always talks way over my head.”

“And he’s a war hero, Ma,” Owen interrupted, returning with the woman in black on his arm. “He was the chief surgeon for the Union at Shiloh.” Glancing at the walking stick, he added, “Saved hundreds of lives before he was wounded.”

Layne laughed. “Mr. Owen is exaggerating terribly. I was a staff surgeon, doing what any surgeon would do, and I was wounded only very lightly.”

“So modest,” Owen said. Under his breath he said to Layne, “I’m trying to help you here.” Louder he said, “Ma, may I present my very good friend Doctor Winfield Layne.”

“Mrs. Owen, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Mrs. Owen allowed Layne to take her hand.

By now a crowd had gathered. Whispers of “Paris-France-Europe!” surrounded Owen and Layne.

Mrs. Owen seemed on the point of saying something when Ellie touched Layne’s arm. “Owen tells me you’ve advised him to put a soda fountain in his pharmacy. I think it’s a wonderful idea. I’m so glad he has an educated and cultured man as his friend. Don’t you think it’s wonderful, Mrs. Owen?”

Mrs. Owen said, “Oh -- I -- well, I -- that is --”

Layne tried to get a word in. “Actually, I believe the soda fountain was Pau -- Mr. Owen’s idea, although I did see one at the Paris Expo.”

“The Paris Expo! Imagine!” Ellie exclaimed.

“Paris-France-Europe!” the crowd nodded sagely.

“Doctor Layne, I would like you to escort me into the church, especially since Owen is being so rude this morning. Owen, don’t neglect your Ma.” Ellie took Layne’s arm and continued conspiratorially, “We must work together to keep Owen in check.”

“I’m delighted to escort you, Miss Aiken, but I have little hope for controlling that high-spirited young man. He’s quite old enough to make his own decisions.”

“Unfortunately,” Ellie sniffed.

Inside, Ellie took a center pew near the front. Owen sat his mother at her right and himself at her left, pulling Layne to his other side. Almost as soon as they were seated Owen jumped up and dragged Layne to meet the town’s more prominent citizens, still shamelessly exaggerating Layne’s accomplishments.

“You must drawl,” Owen said quickly.

“I must what?” Layne was perplexed.

“You must exaggerate your accent. You don’t talk like a local. So you must play up the difference. Speak with a Southern drawl. Then they’ll think you’re interesting, not suspicious.”

Layne could see women pointing him out to their friends, whose eyes opened wide as their mouths formed small o’s. The two men barely reached their seats in time for the opening hymn, “River of Life” by Reverend Robert Lowry.

Blessed river, Let me ever

Feast my eyes on thee.

Stream full of life and gladness,

Spring of all health and peace,

No harps by thee hang silent,

Nor happy voices cease:

Tranquil river, Let me ever

Sit and sing by thee.

Tranquil river, Let me ever

Sit and sing by thee.

At each repetition of the word “river” Owen pressed his leg into Layne’s. As they sat, Owen whispered, “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“What are you two scheming about?” Ellie asked with an amused wink.

“Oh, I was just telling Doctor Layne that I must introduce him to the pastor after the service,” Owen said.

“Liar,” she said. “I just know it’s something wicked. Put two boys together and they will surely get up to some devilment.”

Layne feigned indignation. “Miss Aiken, how could you harbor such suspicions?”

“I know my Owen. He’s probably planning to steal from the collection plate and is enlisting your nefarious aid.”

“I’m shocked that you would even imagine such a thing. It would be a violation of the oaths of my profession.”

“Oh, you.” Ellie gave Layne a playful tap on the wrist. Mrs. Owen shot her an annoyed look but said nothing.

As is common, the church service was the least memorable part of the morning. True to his word, at the end of the service, Owen introduced Layne to the pastor, Reverend Joseph Fielden. The pastor was duly impressed.

“I think it’s a fine thing for a young man like Mister Owen to have a cultured professional man as his friend,” Reverend Fielden intoned. “Have you been baptized, Doctor Layne?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Reverend Fielden looked at Layne quizzically, but continued. “You know, when this church was first built, before there was a baptistery, baptisms were done in the Winnipesaukee.”

“Baptized in the Winnipesaukee,” Layne said. “How poetic.” He caught Owen’s eye. “I can picture it clearly.”

Owen kicked Layne’s foot. “Oh, Doctor Layne, how clumsy of me.”

“Now, Mister Owen, have you been remembering what we said in my office?”

A momentary look of panic crossed Owen’s face.

Layne raised an index finger. “No coffee, only tea, and you must get more help with the shop. That clumsiness is from overwork and strained nerves.”

“Oh. Right.” Owen relaxed.

“I can see that you’re going to be a very positive influence on our young Mister Owen, Doctor Layne,” Fielden pronounced.

“I like to think so,” Layne responded.

“Doctor Layne,” Owen said, grasping the doctor’s arm and pulling him away, “you must meet Mister Aiken. Excuse us, Reverend.”

“Aiken? Which man do you mean?”

Owen steered him toward two serious-looking middle-aged men. “The bald one. Jonas Aiken, Ellie’s father.”

“Oh, I see.”

“My father worked for him.”

“Is that why she calls you Owen -- because she regards you as an employee?”

“At best. The man to the right of him is his brother Walter Aiken. His money built this church.”

“I knew that name was familiar.”

They reached the Aikens.

“Mister Aiken,” Owen addressed Jonas Aiken. “May I present my very good friend Doctor Winfield Layne.”

“Doctor Layne,” Jonas said. “The church has been buzzing with your exploits this morning. How is it we have not had the pleasure of your acquaintance until now?”

“Evidently, until I met Mister Owen here, I was laying low and hiding my light under a bushel. In fact I had no idea I had so many accomplishments until he started lying outrageously about them this morning.”

Jonas Aiken laughed heartily. “I suspect the truth lies somewhere in between, and probably closer to Owen’s account.”

Ellie had approached the little conclave. “Much closer, Papa. I believe Doctor Layne will be wonderful for Owen. He’s already managed to talk more sense into him in one week than I have in a year.”

Walter Aiken extended his hand to the doctor. “So pleased to make your acquaintance, Doctor Layne. Are you in general practice? A specialist of some kind?”

“I was a surgeon during the war,” Layne answered. “Now it’s general practice for me, and surgery only occasionally.”

“He’s a wonderful doctor,” Owen said.

“Oh, have you availed yourself of his services?” Jonas inquired.

Owen blushed.

“Just a little consultation,” Layne said. “Nothing I would even charge for.”

“You mustn’t do too much charity work, Doctor Layne,” Walter Aiken warned him. “Your time and expertise are your stock in trade. You must charge accordingly.”

“Oh, I don’t consider it charity,” Layne said. “More like an investment.”

Jonas Aiken nodded. “Yes, an investment in our youth is an investment in our own future.”

“Exactly,” Layne responded.

“Papa? Uncle?” Ellie said, taking both their arms. “I want to talk to you both. About an investment opportunity. Now, Doctor Layne, I give you full charge of Owen. I trust you to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.”

“I won’t let him do anything I wouldn’t do,” Layne assured her as she steered the older men away.

“I can’t wait to get you alone,” Owen said quietly.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Layne answered.

“I can’t get away today. Every Sunday Ma stuffs me with a big dinner and then the Aikens stuff me with another one.”

“Then we shall have to be patient. Tomorrow.”