“No, no. I appreciate your calling me.” She shook the woman’s hand. “Can you tell me what happened to my father tonight?”
“Of course.”
They settled into two of the institutional-grade black vinyl and steel interlocking chairs populating the waiting area. “Frank was exhausted, dying of thirst, and he seemed confused by simple questions. We were worried, so we called the paramedics. He handed me your card and asked me to call you right before they loaded him into the ambulance. Then they were gone, and I haven’t heard anything concrete about his condition.” Sharon shook her head. “Does he have—?”
“Yes, he’s diabetic,” Ellie supplied. “But the doctors have his blood pH stabilized. They’ll monitor him while he’s here, which will most likely be a few days.” She swallowed a rude remark about Frank’s bullheadedness before adding, ”When he’s on his own again, he’s going to have to do a lot better at self-regulating.” Because she couldn’t hold back the suspicion, she went on. “Tell me, Ms. Greene, had he been drinking when this happened?”
“Call me Sharon, please. And no. Well, at first I thought maybe he’d been drinking. He had a hard time following our discussion and his breath smelled fruity, like a rum-punch, but I know he’s a beer man, so that didn’t really make sense. In retrospect, I’m certain he was completely sober, Dr. Swann.”
“Ellie,” she corrected. “‘Completely sober’ isn’t the way people usually describe my father.” She tried, but didn’t succeed in keeping the bitter edge out of her voice.
Sharon patted her hand. “He’s trying to change.” She sounded so reassuring and hopeful. Two more qualities Frank didn’t usually bring out in people. All in all, the woman seemed entirely too sweet and classy to have anything in common with her father. She also had a diamond-encrusted wedding ring on her left ring finger. “How did you say you knew Frank?”
“I didn’t say. I should probably let him explain—”
Just then Ellie caught Dr. Pendleton’s wave as he passed the nurses’ station on his way out. “I’ll go tell him he has a visitor.”
The older woman’s gratitude shone in her smile. “Thank you. Only if he’s feeling up to it.”
Ellie rose. “No problem. I’ll be back soon.”
Her hand shook when she reached for the door. A burning pressure swelled in her chest. Relief took many forms, she knew, including anger, but hers wouldn’t do either of them any good. Tamping down on it, she steeled herself and entered the room. Her father lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed, complexion ash gray. An IV dripped into his arm. Monitors hummed and recorded details of his heart rate, oxygen levels, and blood sugars. She stepped to the foot of his bed and checked his chart. When she glanced back at him, his eyes were open and locked on her.
“How do you feel?” Safe ground. He was, after all, in a hospital.
“Thirsty.”
She poured him a cup of water from the pitcher a nurse had left on the bedside cart and handed it to him.
While he drank, she moved on to the next obvious topic. “Your friend Sharon called me.” She didn’t know what else to say. I told you this would happen if you didn’t take care of yourself? She had, a thousand times, but Dr. Pendleton had already covered the diabetes lecture, so what was the point? “She’s in the waiting area, if you feel up to a visitor.”
“In a minute. I have something to say to you first.” He struggled to raise himself into a sitting position. She took the bed control from its coil around the bed rail and hit the button to elevate his head.
“That’s good,” he said when they were more eye-to-eye.
“What’s on your mind, Frank?” This would be short visit if he started in on her about anything. Right now she should be tracking Tyler down, explaining her whole stupid plan with Roger and begging his forgiveness. Oh, yes, and praying he wasn’t so mad or disgusted he’d tell her to get the hell out of his life.
“I guess I owe you an apology.”
She blinked. Frank, apologizing? “For what?”
“Friday night.” His eyes shifted to some point over her shoulder. “Tyler tells me I showed up at your place half-cocked, pounding on stuff and screaming at the top of my lungs. I don’t remember too well.”
“One of the things you pounded on was Tyler’s jaw, so I suggest you save your apology for him.”
“I already did. Look”—his glance bounced back to her face—“I know apologizing for the other night only touches the top of a whole big pile of crap I need to answer for where you’re concerned, but I have to start somewhere.”
Maybe her ears weren’t working right. Or her brain. “Start what?”
“Making amends.”
Who are you and what have you done with my father? she wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. “Why?” she managed.
“The program I joined. Apologizing and making amends is step nine, so I’m not exactly there yet. But I figure you’re here now and my stunt Friday might still be on your mind.”
Her heart started beating a little faster. “Frank, what program did you join?”
“You met Sharon, right?”
“Yes.”
“She’s my sponsor—my Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. If I’m going to deal with the diabetes, I need to sober up. Didn’t help much today, but generally speaking.”
“No, no. Generally speaking, you’re absolutely right.” She ran a hand through her hair and waited for the tightness in her throat to subside. “Quitting drinking is a really, really good idea.” One she’d suggested many times and he’d waved off just as often.
“When Longfoot drove me home, he told me I could either get myself under control, or he’d convince you to be done with me. He also warned me that the next time I showed up anywhere cursing and throwing punches, he’d take another fist to the jaw, and then he’d press charges and have my sorry ass thrown in jail.”
Ellie shook her head, battling disbelief. “Tyler told you this?”
Frank nodded. “Get sober and get my head together or he’d have me arrested and I’d never see you again. Said those were my ‘options.’ I’ve seen some good bluffs in my day, but looking at him, I knew he meant every word. I went to my first meeting Saturday night, got matched up with Sharon as my sponsor. I’ve been sober for”—he squinted at the clock on the wall opposite the bed—“damn near three days.”
“That’s amazing,” she said, meaning it, even though the information about Tyler left her almost as stunned as her father’s sobriety. Nobody had ever interceded in her relationship with Frank. Not even when she was little. Of course, she’d never asked for help, either. Asking for help meant letting someone know the sorry state of her home life, and the only thing more humiliating than the relationship itself would have been letting someone else know. But Tyler had seen, and he’d stepped in. Part of her wanted to be angry at his interference, but she couldn’t. Not when, thanks to him, Frank was making an effort to take responsibility for his health. She owed him her gratitude, on top of everything else.
“You were at your first meeting Saturday night when I stopped by to drop off groceries?”
“Yeah. I left you a note.”
“I saw. Sunday night I drove by your place around nine, but all the lights were off.”
“Another meeting, and afterward, Sharon and I went and got coffee. Talked some more. She told me her story, how she lost her husband ten years back and hit the bottle hard for a long while afterward. She’s been sober for five years now, but she remembers what it was like, being where I am.”
“Sound like you two talked quite a bit.”
“Talking is a big part of this program. I swear I never flapped my gums so much in my life as I have these past few days.”
“I’ll bet,” she said, biting back a smile at the image of her stubborn, taciturn father sitting in a circle of sympathetic listeners, discussing his feelings. But it was exactly what he needed to do, and the knowledge that he’d taken these first shaky steps down the path to welln
ess left her cautiously optimistic. “Sharon’s waiting to see you, if you’re ready for more talking?”
“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. I, uh…you’ve been seeing a lot of Longfoot?”
Oh, God, they were not having this conversation. “Frank—”
“I just wanna say he cares about you. I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you there.”
She stared at the floor and blinked hard, because hot tears suddenly threatened. “No. I screwed it up all on my own.”
“You’ve given out a lot of second chances, kid. Take one yourself.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Jackets suck. Ties suck. This whole outfit sucks. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. I look like a moron and I probably sounded like one, too,” Junior whispered to Tyler, as if his voice might carry down the carpeted hallway and through the closed door of the conference room at Bluelick Savings and Loan where the lending committee currently convened. Tyler folded his arms across his chest—mostly to keep from fidgeting with his own tie—and gave Junior what he hoped was a reassuring look.
“You did fine, answered all their questions cogently—”
“Ty, I don’t even know what that means.”
Tyler bit back a smile. “It means you sounded like you knew what you were talking about. We both did. If they don’t approve the loan, it’s not because we had our heads up our asses.”
Grady Landry stepped out of the conference room, glanced down the hall at them, glanced away, then drew himself up and walked toward them. Tyler braced for bad news. When Grady drew even, his tombstone of a face split into a grin. He slapped Junior on the shoulder and pumped Tyler’s hand. “Congratulations, boys, you got yourselves a loan.”
Junior yee-hawed and returned Grady’s slap, whacking the big man’s shoulder hard enough to make Tyler wince, then whacking Tyler’s for good measure. “Shit, Grady. I thought you were coming down here to chase us off.”
Grady’s smile widened. “I’m entitled to a little fun now and then.” He ushered them to the lobby. “You gave the committee a solid presentation, impressed them with the project plan, the stability and skill of your team, and the numbers. Basically, you took away their reasons to say no. Go celebrate. Tyler, I’ll call you when the docs are ready.”
After another round of handshakes Tyler followed Junior out the door and into the midday sun. Junior punched his shoulder again. “Still think everyone sees you as an irresponsible troublemaker who’s only good for one thing?”
“Maybe not the irresponsible troublemaker part, but unfortunately, the person who matters most still sees me as only good for one thing.”
“You’re just going to have to show her she’s wrong. Get on over there and tell her Bluelick Savings and Loan decided to take a chance on you, and she should, too. Oh, and tell her I hope Frank’s feeling better.”
“I just saw Frank Friday night. He’s fine.”
Junior shot him a funny look, and then shook his head. “Okay, bad news. Ellie may, in fact, think you’re only good for one thing. She hauled herself over to Lexington Memorial last night because paramedics brought Frank to the ER with some kind of complication from his diabetes. I found out this morning from Lou Ann, whose cousin works the admissions desk and was on duty when they brought him in. By the time she clocked out they listed him in good condition, but last she heard they were keeping him a few days.”
Tyler stared at Junior for a minute, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Ellie hadn’t called to tell him her father was in the hospital. Not for support, a ride, a shoulder to cry on—nothing.
“Hey Tyler, hold up,” a voice called from behind him. He turned to see Roger crossing the street.
Fucking perfect, Tyler thought and felt sweat roll down his spine.
Junior squirmed out of his jacket, yanked his tie loose and wiped a forearm across his forehead. “Whew, I could use a sweet tea. I’m gonna run on over to Jiffy Java and get me one. You want one?”
“Yeah,” Tyler managed. “I’ll be right over.”
Junior jogged across the square while Roger closed in.
“Hi, Tyler. I was hoping to run into you. Got a minute?”
He made a show of looking at his watch. “About a minute.”
The blond man offered him a smile—one Tyler dearly wanted to knock off his face.
“Did Ellie explain what you saw last night?”
Tyler started walking to avoid giving in to a troublemaking impulse right in front of the bank. “I haven’t spoken to her, but what I saw last night doesn’t need any explanation.”
Roger fell into step beside him. “Well, shoot. Yes it does.” He clamped a hand on Tyler’s arm. “Wait up.”
His temper spiked. “Trust me Roger, you want to move that hand. I’m not in a ‘Congratulations, the best man won’ kind of mood right now.”
Roger lifted his hand and held it up. “Fine. Not a problem, ’cause I didn’t. Win, I mean.” He ran his hand through his hair and puffed out a breath. “I’m saying this wrong. Look, Tyler, Ellie and I are friends.”
“You looked real friendly last night.” He tightened his jaw to bite off the rest of his words. She was free to pick her friends. He hadn’t made her any promises beyond five playdates and hadn’t asked any from her. It was on him to change that.
“Last night you caught a moment of silliness, not passion. I’d just told her…” Roger broke off and glanced around, then lowered his voice. “I’d just told Ellie I’m gay.”
Okay, so the words confirmed his suspicion, but they didn’t erase the lip-lock. “And she reacted by trying to show you what you were missing?”
Roger laughed. “Sort of, but not the way you think. Believe me, Tyler, what you saw wasn’t her attempting to change my mind. It was more a good-bye and good-luck kind of thing.”
Tyler took a deep breath and released it slowly. “So, you and Ellie aren’t—?”
“Nope,” Roger said, shaking his head.
“And she’s not attracted to you?”
“Thanks for rubbing it in, but no, she’s not. She’d talked herself into believing she ought to want me, but she doesn’t. And she reached that conclusion before I told her the truth about myself. I could be the straightest guy in town and it wouldn’t change the way she feels. I’m not the one for her. If you want my opinion, I’d say her heart is already spoken for, but she’s afraid to trust what it’s telling her.” He smiled and backed up a step. “I think if someone grew a pair of balls to replace the set Junior shot off, and told her how he felt—”
“You know, I’m getting tired of folks around here speculating about my equipment.”
Roger grinned and took another step away. “Maybe you ought to make a bold move and prove us all wrong.”
“Yeah, right.” Tyler stared across the square at Ellie’s office, then turned to Roger and added, “Thanks for clarifying what went down last night.”
“No problem. Thanks for not decking me.” With a quick wave, he walked away.
Tyler took out his phone and dialed Ellie’s office. When Melody picked up, he asked, “What’s the word on Frank?”
“Hey, Tyler. He’s okay. Ellie’s going to see him up this afternoon. I’m relieved you’re in the loop. I wasn’t sure she’d told anyone. You know how contained she can be.”
“I do know,” he said drily. “How’s she doing?”
“Tired and stressed. I wish I could tell you more, but we’ve been dealing with patients since first thing this morning. We haven’t had much chance to talk. I’d let you speak to her, but she’s in with someone right now and if she doesn’t finish soon she’s not going to get ten lousy minutes to sit down and eat lunch. Want me to leave her a message you called?”
“No, that’s okay.” He didn’t want to squeeze the things he had to say to her in between patients or a trip to Lexington to visit her father. “I’ll catch up with her later.”
“I think she’ll be back from Lexington after six, if you want to try he
r then.”
“Thanks, Mel.” He glanced at his watch and did some quick figuring. He could do better than a phone call at six if he got his ass in gear.
…
Ellie plopped into her chair and stifled a groan when she checked the patient schedule on her desk. Busy was good, she reminded herself, but a fifteen-minute lunch break she was five minutes late starting wouldn’t do much for her headache and sagging energy. Or her hunger. She needed food and was contemplating her options—a candy bar or a bag of pretzels from the snack stash in her desk drawer—when Melody knocked on the open door and came in carrying a to-go bag from DeShay’s.
She set the bag down front and center on Ellie’s desk. “I took the liberty of ordering you a turkey and Swiss on wheat.”
Ellie’s stomach growled its approval. “I’m giving you a raise,” she said, digging into the bag. “A big one. Name your price.”
The blonde laughed and perched on the corner of the desk. “Let’s see how this month’s receipts look and then we’ll talk. Speaking of talking, I spoke to Roger last night.”
Unsure what to say, Ellie concentrated on opening the sandwich wrapper and spreading it out into a makeshift place mat.
“He told me he came out to you, and you were incredibly understanding and supportive.”
“That’s sweet of him to say, but I reacted like any friend would.”
“Not in his mind. He’s got this deep-seated fear everybody will loathe him if they know the truth, so he hasn’t opened up to many people. I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, but my assurances only go so far.” She paused, and took a deep breath. “Can you forgive me for not telling you about Roger? I promised him I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault I refused to see several huge signs that were staring me right in the face.”
Melody brushed that aside with a wave of her hand. “Sometimes the journey to love involves some bumpy detours, as any girl with a gay ex-fiancé will tell you. But I’ve learned a smooth trip isn’t particularly important. Getting there is what matters.”
Private Practice Page 17