All at once it had become possible for him truly to practice the kind of medicine he'd learned in medical school, where patients' needs eclipsed the arcane rules of their insurance coverage. Suddenly, Craig could spend an hour with someone if the patient's situation required it. Appropriately, it had become his decision. In one fell swoop, he'd been freed of the dual scourge of falling reimbursements and rising costs that had forced him to squeeze more and more patients into his busy day. To get paid, he no longer had to fight with insurance personnel who were often medically ignorant. He'd even started making house calls when it was in the patient's best interest, an action that had been unthinkable in his former life.

The change had been a dream come true. When the offer had unexpectedly come over the transom, he'd told his would-be benefactor and now partner that he'd have to think about it. How could he have been so stupid not to agree on the spot? What if he had missed the opportunity to grab the brass ring? Everything was better, save for the family problem, but the root of that issue was how submerged he'd been from day one in his former professional situation. Ultimately, it had been his fault, which he freely admitted. He had let the exigencies of current medical practice dictate and limit his life. But now he certainly wasn't drowning, so maybe the family difficulties could be resolved in the future, given enough time. Maybe Alexis could be convinced how much better all their lives could be. Meanwhile, he resolved to enjoy bettering himself. For the first time in his life, Craig had free time and money in the bank.

With an end of the bow tie in each hand, Craig was about to try tying it again when his cell phone rang. His face fell. He glanced at his watch. It was ten after seven. The symphony was to start at eight thirty. His eyes switched to the caller ID. The name was Stanhope.