At Least You Have Your Health - Softcover

Sinha, Madi

 
9780593334256: At Least You Have Your Health
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593334256 ISBN 13: 9780593334256
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2022

Inhaltsangabe

One of Shondaland's Best Books of April 2022!
A Lilly's Library Book Club Pick!

Behind the chic veneer of a wellness clinic lies a dangerous secret, in this compelling women's fiction novel from the author of The White Coat Diaries.
 
Dr. Maya Rao is a gynecologist trying to balance a busy life. With three young children, a career, and a happy marriage, she should be grateful—on paper, she has it all. But after a disastrous encounter with an entitled patient, Maya is forced to walk away from the city hospital where she’s spent her entire career.

An opportunity arises when Maya crosses paths with Amelia DeGilles at a school meeting. Amelia is the owner and entrepreneur behind Eunoia Women’s Health, a concierge wellness clinic that specializes in house calls for its clientele of wealthy women for whom no vitamin infusion or healing crystal is too expensive. All Eunoia needs is a gynecologist to join its ranks.

Amid visits to her clients’ homes, Maya comes to idolize the beautiful, successful Amelia. But Amelia’s life isn’t as perfect as it seems. When Amelia’s teenaged daughter is struck with a mysterious ailment, Maya must race to uncover the reason before it’s too late. In the process, she risks losing what’s most important to her and bringing to light a secret of her own that she’s been desperately trying to keep hidden.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Madi Sinha is a physician and the author of The White Coat Diaries. She lives in New Jersey with her family. You can find her at madisinha.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

ONE

When Amelia DeGilles—­forty-­five, tailored jeans, nude slingbacks with a red sole—­caught the arm of Maya Rao—­thirty-­six, threadbare leggings, brown stain on one off-­brand white canvas sneaker—­in the parking lot of Hamilton Hall Academy after the October parent council meeting, people noticed.

It wasn’t just that Amelia DeGilles was known for keeping the company of a very small and carefully ­vetted circle of other Hamilton Hall mothers, but that the slightly disheveled young Indian woman with whom she was now engaged in intimate conversation drove a Honda Odyssey with silver duct tape on one side-view mirror and had very recently, only moments earlier in fact, come into some notoriety.

“Isn’t that her? The gynecologist?” asked Evelyn Tuttle as she opened the door of her Range Rover, the car she drove on Tuesdays.

Her friend Lainey Smockett, who only owned one car but didn’t need to leave the house all that much anymore since discovering that her au pair could be deployed for so many tasks besides just childcare, nodded. “Her kid’s in Madison’s class, I think.”

Evelyn pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You know, I could swear I know her from somewhere, but I can’t place her.”

“I met her once, at back-to-school night,” Lainey said, frowning. “She seemed a little standoffish.”

“Well, she has nerve, I’ll give her that. I came in late, but I heard her little speech. Making a proposal like that, and in front of the whole parent council?” Evelyn shook her head, her long flame-­red hair catching the light. “I mean, I know she’s new to Hamilton, but for God’s sake. I only voted ‘yes’ out of kindness, but she’ll never get that past the school board. They’ll be appalled.”

“Oh, I voted ‘yes’ out of kindness, too.” Lainey, noticeably younger and less fashionable than her friend, nodded in eager agreement. She adjusted her oversize black sunglasses, the ones she imagined made her look something like Audrey Hepburn but in fact made her look something like a very large hornet. “I wonder if she knows my cardiologist, Dr. Patel. He’s standoffish, too. What could Amelia want with her?”

Evelyn shrugged in a way that suggested she didn’t care to know when, in fact, she cared very much to know. “Probably to assign her to a committee for the auction. There’s still a few openings on Decorations, I think.”

“But I’m the head of Decorations!” Lainey’s eyelids fluttered in surprise. “Any new volunteer assignments have to go through me first.”

Evelyn examined her manicure. “Oh, I’m sure Amelia was going to run it by you. Probably.”

Lainey huffed in frustration. “You know, she’s always making these unilateral decisions—­and what was she thinking with this year’s theme? A Night in Marrakesh? What does she want me to do? Rent a camel?”

“I think it could be nice. Tapestries and . . . other Moroccan things . . . earthenware.” Evelyn gestured vaguely, as if the tapestries and earthenware were strewn about the parking lot in front of them. “Some Arabian-­looking lamps—­like the kind the genie pops out of—­as centerpieces. And the waiters could wear those cute little hats with the tassels.”

“But where am I supposed to get all that stuff?” Lainey crossed her arms petulantly. “I mean, I’m sure Queen Amelia can fly to Marrakesh to go shopping at the bazaar at the drop of a hat, but the rest of us have households to run without the benefit of a butler and chef and whatever else she has.” She adjusted her sunglasses again and added hopefully, “Has she invited you over yet?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Carter and Prem broke up last week.”

Lainey’s face crumpled. “What? No, I’m so sorry.”

Evelyn shrugged. “It wouldn’t have lasted past graduation anyway. I was hoping they’d go to prom together. I bet I’d at least have gotten an invitation to the house for pictures. I might have gotten a look at the foyer. But now . . .” She sighed dejectedly.

“Oh my God, the foyer.” Lainey had a faraway look in her eyes. “I bet it’s even more stunning in person than it was in Architectural Digest.”

“You’d think with a house like that, she’d at least volunteer to host the auction there, instead of making you decorate the gym every year,” Evelyn said. “Her philanthropy is a little performative, if you ask me.”

Lainey’s hand flew to her heart. “Why, whatever would make you think that?” she asked, feigning shock. Then she rolled her eyes in the direction of the far end of the lot, adjacent to the school gymnasium, where a yellow construction crane was parked in front of a gaping hole in the earth. The area was cordoned off with orange and white parking barriers, and a placard proclaimed, in large letters: FUTURE SITE OF THE DEGILLES MINDFULNESS SPACE. Evelyn chortled, and Lainey, encouraged by this reaction, added conspiratorially, “I heard the faculty wanted to use the money to buy new 3D printers and microscopes, but you know Amelia.”

Evelyn nodded. “Any real estate she can slap her name on.”

A black Aston Martin SUV with red trim glided past them and pulled to a stop next to Amelia and her companion. The driver—­a sandy-haired young man in skinny jeans and a sports jacket—­jumped out. Amelia nodded at him, a gesture so subtle it could have easily been missed, and he opened both the front and rear passenger side doors. Then, as Lainey, Evelyn, and several other Hamilton Hall parents watched with intense but still discreet interest, the two women climbed into the car—­Amelia in the front seat and Maya in the rear—­and the driver sped them off.

It was silent for a moment. Finally, Lainey crossed her arms and said, “Well, that woman must be one smooth talker if she’s already made friends with Amelia DeGilles.”

Evelyn shrugged again, her mouth pinched shut. “Well, she’s Indian or Middle Eastern or whatever, right? Maybe Amelia wants her help renting a camel.”

Lainey snorted. The merriment, however, was hollow. Both women were surprised to realize how much the gynecologist’s coup had unsettled them. Had they misjudged her? That hardly seemed possible. The woman’s side-­view mirror was literally being held together with duct tape—­duct tape, for God’s sake! Yet there she was, going somewhere with Amelia DeGilles. Invited to go somewhere with Amelia DeGilles, daughter of legendary film composer Rupert DeGilles and model Melinda Spencer DeGilles, philanthropist and entrepreneur, a person named by the Philadelphia Inquirer as one of the Main Line’s “10 Most Powerful Women Under 50.” The same Amelia DeGilles who couldn’t be bothered to show up for a single one of the weekly Hamilton Hall Mom Morning Meetups, who never attended nor RSVP’d for birthday parties to which her children had been invited, who’d for years listed her phone number in the Hamilton Hall parent directory as “by request.”

Everyone wanted to be invited into Amelia DeGilles’s inner circle. It seemed a travesty that the disheveled gynecologist should be, and without so much as even trying. Who did she think she...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2022
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593334256
ISBN 13 
9780593334256
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
384
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
preigu
mail@preigu.de

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