Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

“Deviated what? Oh…my…God! What is that, Suga?”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Gold. Calm down. It’s just that your nasal septum-”

“Nasal whaaaaaaaat?”

“The part that divides your nose into two halves. It’s shifted to one side, Gold. No big deal.”

“May I interrupt?” the doctor asked.

I turned to see Dr. Cook giving me a dirty look. Who the hell cared? I’d do anything to ease my friend’s worries.

“Mr. Perlman-”

“Call me Goldie.”

“Fine.” The doctor stood and walked back to his red leather chair, where he sat and glared at me once again.

I think he didn’t trust me to be too close to him.

“I will cover the risks, including anesthesia. But you should do fine. It is merely a defect that could cause you sinus problems and/or breathing problems. After the surgery and your swelling subsides-”

Goldie moaned.

“-you will be amazed at how much better you can breathe.”

“I only wanted a bit off the tip.”

A bit off the tip. Hm. Insurance wouldn’t pay for that, yet they would undoubtedly pay for a septoplasty to repair the deviated septum since it was affecting Goldie’s breathing.

Did Gold really have this “defect” or was it a lucrative way to charge the insurance company more money than the doctor could get from a private patient?

Then again, this was Newport.

It didn’t make sense that money would even be an issue for most of the patients. Why on earth would the doctor commit fraud instead of just having these wealthy patients write him a check?

Maybe there was more involved in this deception than met the eye.

I looked at Goldie, who was now crying. Quickly I got up and placed my arms around him. “What is it, Gold? Change your mind?”

“Oooooooh. Noooooo! It’s just-” He sniffled and looked at me. “Defect. Defect.”

The doctor had said Goldie’s deviated septum was a defect-and Goldie feared not being perfect.

I leaned near his ear. “Miles loves you so much, Gold, your nose could be as long as Pinocchio’s and he wouldn’t care.”

He took my hand and squeezed.

I smiled.

Still in Dr. Cook’s plush office, Goldie held onto my hand as I seated myself on the edge of his chair. I felt horrible to be putting my friend through this painful ordeal. Still, it was something he really wanted, and in my heart I knew that was true. Besides, I didn’t have the authority or power to have anyone get plastic surgery if they didn’t want to. That was just not me.

I looked at the doc, who was writing something in his notes. Probably about me. For some reason, Dr. Cook didn’t take to me. Maybe guilt had him being wary.

“Are you going to go over the surgical risks, Dr. Cook?” I asked, scanning my vision on every paper on his desk and anywhere else in the office that I could see.

Goldie tensed his hold.

I bit back an ouch. “Routine stuff, I mean. Nothing to worry about, Gold.”

The doctor looked up with a “do you want to take over?” kinda look. Well, it didn’t matter how or why he looked at me, Goldie’s safety, health and happiness came first.

“I was jotting down a note, Nurse. I’ve done this many times before, and think I have it down pat.” He looked at Goldie.

I curled my lips. Oops.

“Mr. Perlman, as I’d said before there are, in fact, risks involved with any surgery-”

Goldie sucked in a breath. A very loud breath.

I switched our hand positions and tightened my hold on him. “This really is routine. Don’t worry about it.” I gave the doc a look that said he better not frighten my patient again.

After the usual lecture on anesthesia, recovery, post-op care and what was expected, the doctor got up and started toward the door.

I still held onto Goldie’s hand, knowing the part about possible death had stuck in his mind. Gently I touched his other hand and stood. “Come on, Gold. Let’s go get a cup of tea.”

“I need chardonnay,” he said.

I patted his shoulder as the doctor held the door. “Of course you do, Gold. Of course you do.”

After three glasses of chardonnay, what seemed several hours of me telling Goldie he could change his mind, and several more of him convincing me he was doing this because he really wanted to, we decided to go for a walk.

Maybe the ocean’s breeze would clear our heads after this trying day.

I had to go back to my room at the lodge to change my shoes and put on some walking clothes. Goldie wanted to do the same, so we decided to meet at the end of the road where the ocean swam below and to the right or left was Cliff Walk.

In one of Goldie’s brochures I’d read that the walk ran 3.5 miles along the cliff with the ocean below-almost seventy feet in some areas-and on the other side, mansions and their gigantic green rear lawns. If that couldn’t clear our thoughts, nothing could.

I enjoyed my walk through the wealthy section of Newport from the lodge to where I’d meet Goldie. Salve Regina University was spread out among the manors, and many of its buildings were mansions themselves. Students bustled about, but I imagined them all wealthy kids in the 1800s.

Up ahead I could see two people coming out of Highcliff Manor and turning toward the ocean. At first I thought it might be Goldie, having made friends with one of the other patients, but on closer inspection the blonde looked a bit heavier than Gold. Not that she wasn’t svelte by any means.

“Suga!”

I turned toward the east to see Goldie waving. Dressing in designer “beatnik” jeans with hand painting up one leg and on the opposite hip, the sun sparkled on the gems that were nestled amid the designs. He wore a white linen blouse, which made him look as sophisticated as any society snob around there.

“Hey, Gold.” I waved and hurried up to him. “Which way should we go?”

He turned toward the left. “This way the path is mostly paved. The other way has sections where you have to climb over rocks, and without railings, areas that drop seventy feet to the crashing waves.”

I shuddered. “You don’t have to tell me twice. It is a gorgeous day, Gold. Let’s keep safe!” We laughed and passed an elderly couple walking along the cliff.

Now I felt much better about our choice of direction.

Goldie and I made small talk as we worked our way along the walk. As we passed the forty-room mansions, Gold and I marveled and oohed and aahed together. We were like two little kids in Disney World-and that wasn’t that far of a stretch.

Newport was miles apart from Hope Valley, and being a hometown kinda gal, I’d never been anyplace so ritzy.

The waves clapped the rocks below, and each time I stood still long enough to look out to the open sea, I’d notice a new vessel of some sort chugging away. A mist touched my face and with each breath I inhaled the salty air.

Seagulls perched on rocks jetting out between swells of waves, and the rhythmic sound had me more relaxed than a glass of chardonnay ever could.

“Gold, are you really all right with this surgery thing?”

He turned toward me. “You know I am, Suga. I’m fine. Don’t let a few screeches scare you. Sometimes I’m just so emotional. I could-”

“Oh!” I shouted and grabbed Goldie’s arm.

“What? What is wrong?”

Not able to say a word, I pointed.

Goldie turned toward the walk up ahead. I know he couldn’t miss the two people standing there arguing. He looked back at me. “Must be a lovers’ spat, Suga. Nothing to worry about. We can pass them.”

I shook my head. “Gold-” I swallowed. “She tried to…I’m not sure…but it looked as if she tried to push him-off the cliff!”

Goldie swung back to the couple.