by Diana Palmer
“Do you get the aura?” Mrs. Brown asked.
He grimaced. “Yeah. Flashy lights or blind in one eye until the pain hits.”
“Do you have something to take for it?” she persisted.
“Just over-the-counter stuff.”
“You should see a doctor and get something stronger,” she told him. “They even have a drug that can prevent them, if you don’t have drug allergies.”
“They do?” he asked, and was really interested.
“They do.” She laughed. “It’s why I don’t have them much anymore,” she confessed. “Cheese is one of my biggest triggers. But I haven’t had a migraine since back in the winter,” she added.
“Maybe I should do that,” he said. “They get worse as I get older.”
“You’re not old, Mr. Fiore,” she teased.
He shrugged. “Thirty-seven,” he confessed. “Really too old for Bernie...”
“Nonsense. I was fifteen years younger than my late husband, and we had a wonderful life together.”
His eyebrows arched. “Did people talk about you?”
She nodded. She smiled. “We didn’t care. It was nobody’s business but ours.” She sighed. “I’m so glad you and Bernie are friends. She’s never had much in the way of companionship. She’s so alone.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he confided. “After my grandmother died, all I had left was Paulie. He’s a great guy.”
“So I hear.”
He got up. “Well, I’ll go off to bed and hope the cheese doesn’t do me in. But it was worth it,” he added with a chuckle as he put his empty plate in the trash can. “Best cheese I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m glad you like it. And if you get the preventative, you can eat all you like of it,” she laughed.
“I guess so. Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
* * *
But he didn’t sleep well. He woke two hours later with a headache that almost brought him to tears. He walked into the bathroom, half-blind, and almost collided with Bernie, who was wetting a washcloth in the sink.
“My goodness, what’s wrong?” she asked, because he was deathly pale.
“Migraine,” he said roughly. “Any Excedrin in there?” he asked, indicating the medicine cabinet. “I can’t find mine. I think I put it in here...”
She opened the cabinet and looked. “Yes, there is.”
“Shake me out a tablet, will you, honey?”
“Oh, yes.” She did and handed it to him. “You need this more than I do,” she said, indicating the wet washcloth. “Come on. I’ll help you back to bed.”
“You should go,” he said, swallowing hard.
“Why?”
“I get sick...” Before he could say anything else, he managed to make it to the commode and lost his supper, the cheese, the crackers, the soft drink and just about everything else.
When the nausea passed, he found Bernie on her knees beside him with the wet cloth, wiping his face. She flushed the toilet.
“Better now?” she asked.
He swallowed and drew in a breath. “Yeah. I think so. Honey, you shouldn’t...” he began.
“You looked after me when I was having a flare,” she reminded him. “Tit for tat.”
He managed a smile. “Okay.”
“Come on. I’ll help you back to bed.”
He let her lead him back into his bedroom and help him under the covers. She put the washcloth over his eyes.
“I’ll go get you something to take the tablet with. Want water or a soft drink?”
“Ginger ale, if there’s any in the fridge,” he said weakly, loving the comfort of her touch, the compassion in her voice. All his life, women had wanted him for his wealth, his power. This woman only wanted him. It was a revelation.
“I’ll be right back.”
“You shouldn’t be walking,” he said.
“It’s just to the kitchen, and I took the big pill. It’s helping. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Mrs. Brown was just getting ready for breakfast in the kitchen. She turned as Bernie came in.
“Do you want some coffee, sweetheart?” the landlady asked.
“I’d love some, but Mikey has a migraine. I found his migraine medicine, but he wants ginger ale to take it with.”
“There’s one bottle left that’s cold,” the older woman said. “I’ll get some more and put them in there. Is he all right?”
“He lost his supper,” Bernie said. “He’s really sick. I’m going to sit with him for a few minutes.”
“If you need me, just call. We can get one of the Coltrain doctors to come over here and give him a shot if he needs them to. Those headaches are horrible. I used to have them before I got on the preventative.”
“He should see a doctor,” she said as she got the ginger ale out of the fridge.
“You make him do that,” Mrs. Brown said.
Bernie flushed and laugh. “As if I could.”
“Bernie,” Mrs. Brown said gently, “can’t you see that the man is absolutely crazy about you?”
Chapter Seven
Bernie stared at Mrs. Brown as if she’d sprouted grass in her hair. “He what?”
“He absolutely adores you,” the older woman replied, smiling. “Everybody noticed, not just me.”
Bernie flushed. “Well,” she said, stumped for a response.
“You just go take care of your fellow,” Mrs. Brown said. “I’ll get breakfast ready. If he can eat anything, I’ll make him whatever he likes.”
“I’ll tell him,” Bernie replied. “Thanks.”
“You come and eat whenever you like. I’ll make you up a plate that you can reheat, okay?”
“Okay!”
Bernie went back to Mikey’s room and closed the door. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Still got the tablet?” she asked, because she’d handed it to him earlier.
“I got it.”
“Here. It’s open.” She’d already taken the top off the bottle before she handed it to him. He swallowed down the tablet and handed her back the bottle. “Thanks, honey.”
“No problem.” She put his drink on the side table. “Will it stay down?” she worried. “Mrs. Brown said we can call one of our local doctors and they’ll come give you a shot if you need it.”
He swallowed. “Maybe the pill will work.”
“Does it usually?”
He smiled. “No. It helps just a little. Nothing stops it.”
She smoothed back his cool, wavy black hair. “You just let me know what you need. I’ll get it.”
His eyes adored her. “There was never a woman in my whole life who’d have taken care of me the way you just did. Well, except for my grandmother.”
“I’m sure there were plenty who wanted to,” she teased.
“Maybe a couple. But I’m funny about women. Most of them are jaded and glitzy,” he added, his eyes cold with memory.
“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places for them,” she said, tongue in cheek.
His black eyes twinkled at her. “Think so?”
“It’s a possibility.”
He lay back and closed his eyes, wincing. “Of all the things to get from cheese,” he groaned. “It’s my favorite food.”
“You can find a new favorite one. Maybe squash,” she teased. “Or okra.”
“Stop! You’re killing me!”
She laughed. Most of the men she worked around hated both vegetables with a passion.
“Frozen yogurt, then.”
“That sounds nice.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, but it was obvious that even when the tablet had time to work, it wasn’t doing much.
“Pill helping at all?”
He put his hand over his eyes.
“Not so much.” He closed his eyes and winced. “It’s just over-the-counter stuff.”
“Let me call a doctor. Please.”
He drew in a breath. “Okay,” he said finally.
“Be right back.”
* * *
She phoned Lou and Copper Coltrain’s office. The nurse said she’d ask Lou to come right out. Lou was short for Louise, she was blond and sweet and she knew exactly what to do for Mikey.
“You should see a neurologist,” she told him after she’d given him an injection for the pain. First, of course, she’d examined him, asked what he’d already taken for the headache and inquired about any drug allergies. He had none. “But in the meantime, I’ll write you a prescription for the preventative and something for the headaches that works when you get one.” She turned to Bernie. “I’ll give these to you, Bernie. You get them filled today.”
“I will,” Bernie said, smiling at the physician. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’re most welcome. If you have any more issues, Mr. Fiore, you call the office, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said complacently. He smiled up at her through dark-rimmed eyes. “Thanks, Doc.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t think doctors made house calls anymore,” he said.
“Jacobsville’s not like most small towns,” she laughed. “We do what’s needed.” She glanced at Bernie. “I thought you might be dying, from Bernie’s description. She was very upset.”
He opened both eyes and stared at Bernie. “She was?” he asked softly, and smiled at her.
She flushed even more. He laughed. Lou hid a smile, said her goodbyes and left.
* * *
“Can I get you anything else?” Bernie asked.
“No, but you can give the prescriptions to Santi. I’ll text him.” He pulled out his cell phone and made a face. “Damn, I can’t see it,” he murmured.
“Just a sec.” She took the phone from him, pulled up messaging and looked at Mikey. “What do you want to tell him?”
“Ask him to come over right away.”
She typed it in. The response was immediate. “On my way,” it read.
“He’ll think I’m dying or that Cotillo got me,” he chuckled.
She frowned. “Who’s Cotillo?”
“A bad man. Even worse than me,” he said in a husky tone. His eyes tried to focus on her face. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, kid.”
“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, too,” she said.
His big hand searched for hers and held it tight. “We’ll learn about each other. It takes time. Right?”
She smiled. It sounded like a future. She felt herself glowing inside. “It takes time,” she agreed.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m going to try to sleep. Santi has plenty of cash for the prescriptions.”
“Okay.” She got up. “If you need anything, you just call, okay?”
He smiled without opening his eyes. “Okay. Thanks, honey.”
“You’re very welcome.”
She went out of the room, the soft words lingering, touching, making her feel valued.
* * *
There was a knock at the front door. She went to answer it. Santi was standing there.
“What’s wrong with the boss?” he asked at once.
“Migraine,” she said. “We had to call the doctor.”
“It’s a doctor you know, right?” he asked, and his broad face looked troubled.
“Oh, yes, Dr. Louise Coltrain. She came out and gave him these prescriptions. He asked you to get them filled for him at the drugstore.”
He took them from her and nodded. “I’ll get right on it.” He grimaced. “I don’t like being away from him at night, even with all those other guys watching out for him. Listen, you hear any strange noises or if anybody tries to get in the house, you text me. Got your cell phone with you?”
“Yes.” She pulled it out and handed it to him.
He pulled up the contact screen and put information into it. He handed it back. “That’s my cell phone number. The boss isn’t twitchy, so he might pass over something that could be dangerous.”
“I’ll call you if anything happens here,” she promised. “Thanks,” she added softly.
He smiled. “You’re a nice kid. I’m sorry we were rough on you when you fell in front of the car. It’s just that women have tried that before in the boss’s old neighborhood.”
“Really?” she asked, and she was honestly surprised.
He nodded. “He’s loaded, you know? Plenty of women would do anything for money.”
She smiled. “I’ve known one or two of those myself. I like having enough to pay the bills and eat out once in a while. That’s about all. Money doesn’t make people happy. Very often, it does just the opposite.”
“Yes, it does.” He held up the prescriptions. “I’ll get these filled and bring them back to you. The boss, you’re sure he’s okay?”
“Why don’t you look in and see, before you go?” she asked, leading him down the hall. “He’s had a rough night.”
“I used to nurse him through these headaches,” Santi said. “They’re a nightmare.”
“I can see that.”
She knocked briefly and opened the door. Mikey turned his head, wincing at the pain. He managed a smile.
“Hey, Santi. Had to make sure I hadn’t croaked, right?” he teased.
Santi chuckled. “Something like that. You okay?”
“Getting better by the minute.”
“Okay. I’ll go get your meds and be right back.”
“Bernie,” Mikey called, when she started to go out, too. She went back in and paused by the bed. “You haven’t even had breakfast, have you?” he asked.
“Well, not just yet...”
“Go eat something.”
“Okay. Mrs. Brown said you can have anything you want to eat when you feel like food.”
He smiled drowsily. “She’s a doll. So are you. I’m not hungry yet. I think I’ll just sleep for a while. Eat something.”
“I will.”
“Hey,” he called softly when she was at the door.
She turned, her eyebrows arching.
“When I get better, suppose we take in another movie? Paulie says they’ve got all the latest movies on pay-per-view and DVD. And a door that locks,” he added with a wicked smile.
She laughed, flushing as she remembered the last movie they’d gone to but not seen. The memory of his mouth on hers was poignant. “I’d like that,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“Get some rest. I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”
He sighed. “Sweet girl. Don’t ever change.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She went out and closed the door.
* * *
Paul came over to see about his cousin, alerted by Santi after the bodyguard had dropped off Mikey’s prescriptions.
“You look rough,” Paul said, sitting by his cousin’s bedside. “I remember what a misery those headaches are.”
“Misery is right. I lost everything I’d eaten. Bernie was right in the bathroom with me, mopping me up,” he added. “What a hell of a woman. I never knew anybody like her.”
“She’s unique,” Paul agreed. “Amazing how she keeps going. Her disability never seems to get her down.”
“She has good days and bad ones.”
“Don’t they have shots for that condition now?”
“Yeah, they do,” Mikey said. “I overheard her landlady saying what a shame it was that they were so expensive. Bernie can’t afford them.” His face tautened. “I can, but she’d never let me do it for her. She’s proud.”
“She is.”
“Mikey, how
well do you know Santi?” Paul asked.
Mikey’s eyebrows rose. “As well as I know you,” he said. “Honor’s his big thing. He’d never sell me out because it would seem dishonorable to him. He takes his job seriously. Why do you ask?” he added.
“Just some gossip. They say Cotillo’s got somebody close to you.”
“It’s got to be Mrs. Brown, then,” Mikey said with twinkling dark eyes. “Right? I mean, she’s the obvious choice. Friendly, sweet, just the sort to set you up for a hit.”
Paul chuckled. “Okay. I see what you mean. Just the same, we’re checking out everybody who lives here. Just in case.”
“That’s not a bad idea. You still got Billings somewhere with a sniper kit?”
Paul nodded. “I don’t think he ever sleeps. He seems to get by on catnaps, but we have an alternate in place anyway.”
Mikey drew in a breath and laughed huskily. “These damned headaches. I didn’t know there was a way to prevent them. Doc prescribed something, along with a prescription to take when the pain gets bad.” He grimaced. “I hate drugs, you know? But this is a sort of pain that makes you want to hit your head with a hammer just to make it stop throbbing.”
“Grandmama used to get them,” Paul recalled. “They were bad.”
“So are mine. Imagine a woman who doesn’t run for the hills when a man’s losing the contents of his stomach,” he said. “Bernie didn’t leave me for a minute, not until after the doctor came.”
“I hear you did pretty much the same for her the day you met, when she fell in front of the car.”
“Yeah,” Mikey’s mouth pulled down. “I thought it was a trick. You know how women used to come on to me. One even pretended to fall down a flight of stairs. I didn’t know Bernie from an apple. I assumed she liked the looks of the limo and wanted a ride. Bad call.” He drew in a breath. “She asked us to look for her cane, and we didn’t believe her. Santi found it. I felt like a dog.”
“Your past isn’t full of guileless women,” Paul said with a grin. “Understandable mistake.”