by Lori Leger
Tanner had been driving for two hours, and he still couldn’t get Sarah out of his mind. In minutes, he’d be arriving at the Houston Heart Institute, and he could still feel her arms around his waist. No matter how many times he talked himself out of thinking about her for whatever reasons: she deserved better, or he’d never wanted children, or he was fooling himself if he thought he could ever change, her image always managed to invade the recesses of his mind. Sarah, with the babies, or dancing with him, or grinning at him…he couldn’t shake it. The voice of the genie in the GPS sliced through his thoughts.
Turn right at light then take immediate left.
He did what his phone’s GPS told him to do.
Arriving at destination on right.
Navigational systems were a wonderful thing. If only they’d create one to keep him from screwing up: Do not take next left to the club named Stubby’s. Bear right at next intersection to avoid picking up sales woman at the Baby Boutique. Avoid impending one-night-stand with busty brunette in the lab. Do not piss off girl of your dream’s only sibling…especially if said sibling is a U.S. Marine.
He pulled his car into a parking spot relatively near the correct entrance of the huge hospital. The place was massive, as was everything in Houston in comparison to Lake Coburn. It was near the top as far as heart health care was concerned. No doubt they had the best technical equipment money could buy. As much as he envied that particular perk he also knew the disadvantages of working and living in a city like Houston; one being, rush-hour traffic.
He got out of his car and took several seconds to stretch, working the kinks out of his back before heading to the entrance. It took a full ten minutes to find his father’s correct wing and room. Visiting hours were over, but his father’s condition was serious enough for them to let immediate family members through.
After a soft rap on the door, Tanner entered the spacious suite. He paused for a moment, trying to digest the sight of his father, his face as gray as an overcast sky swimming in a sea of white sheets.
As accustomed as he was to seeing his patients in that condition on a daily basis, the sight of Justin Collins shocked him into a brief silence. His father, normally the picture of health and vigor, lay there, still as death, eyes closed, with a plethora of electronic leads and plastic tubing trailing from his limbs to hang limply from the bed. The heart monitor beeped steadily, a relief no doubt for his mother, who occupied the chair pulled up next to the bed. Her head tilted back onto the floral cushion, eyes closed with mouth slightly opened. Her right elbow rested on the bedrail, and her hand clutched her husband’s.
Tanner swiped at his face, barely able to catch his breath as he whispered a single word at the sight of them.
“Jesus.”
Neither of them budged, and he took several tentative steps forward, close enough to see the lines of worry and exhaustion on his mother’s face. He found it amazing that, despite their lack of compassion for anyone below their station, they still seemed to love each other.
He approached, touched his mother lightly on the shoulder.
“Mother,” he whispered.
Celine’s eyelashes fluttered, she opened her eyes and lifted her head, wincing at some obvious stiffness or pain. She tensed as her glance flew from him to her husband, relaxing only when she realized he still slept soundly. She removed her hand from his and stood up, creeping toward the door and motioning for Tanner to follow.
Once in the hallway, she pulled the door closed quietly behind them. “He had a horrendous night and needs to rest.” She finally met Tanner’s gaze. “Thank you for coming, son. It will mean a lot to your father.”
“Of course I came,” he said. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”
“We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again, after that last incident.” She sniffed into one of her ever-present linen hankies, pulled from the pocket of her Chanel jacket.
“You were both out of line—” He stopped, waved a hand to cut off the subject. “That’s an entirely different issue and it doesn’t matter. What have the doctors said?”
“He’s scheduled for surgery in the morning. They wanted to give him a day to recuperate from the attack.”
“Do you know if he was given a dose of thrombolystics? They may have called it a clot buster and it would have been administered in a shot form.”
“I think so, in the ER maybe?” She rubbed her fingers lightly over her brow.
“Or in the ambulance?”
“Justin wouldn’t let me call an ambulance. He said after that broken leg episode he’d never set foot in another one of those things. Grabbed the phone right out of my hands, along with his keys, and staggered to the car, clutching at his chest, said he’d drive himself if I wouldn’t.”
“Well, hell. That sounds like Dad, all right.”
“On occasion, he can be the most stubborn man in the world.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she raised her handkerchief to dab at her eyes. “I was terrified the entire fifteen minutes it took me to get here. He reclined the caddy’s seat and lay there looking like death warmed over. It’s the only time I can remember him not criticizing my driving abilities.”
Tanner held back the grin that threatened. “He’ll be fine.”
“Will he?” Her gaze burned into him.
He faced her fully and nodded. “He’s in the best place for it.”
“So you say, but I’d still feel better if you were there for the surgery.”
“How many times must we go over this, Mother? I’m not a heart surgeon.”
“I know, but some of these doctors here have names I can’t pronounce,” she hissed, as though she were being watched by the CIA of Cardiac Centers.
“Oh God, I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Methodist Debakey is ranked number twelve in the nation last I heard, and you’re lucky enough to live within fifteen minutes of the place. Their cardiovascular surgeons are some of the finest available.”
“Are you sure? This is my husband we’re talking about here,” she said, twisting her handkerchief into knots.
“Your husband, and my father, and yes, I’m sure. Did his physician mention any specific kind of procedure to you? PCI or CABG?”
Celine frowned as though trying to recall the conversation with the doctor. “He said something about cabbage, and a thoracic artery, but I’m not sure if that’s the same as what you’re talking about.”
Tanner nodded, pleased at her answer. “CABG, they call it ‘cabbage’ and it’s highly successful. They’ll take a vein from another part of his body, attach it to his aorta, and graft it to the heart, right alongside his veins that aren’t working properly. I’m assuming they’ve decided on the chest area if they mentioned the thoracic artery to you. It’s common practice and is highly successful in returning blood flow to the damaged parts of the heart.”
Celine’s eyes widened as he explained, and he got the feeling his reassurances were falling on deaf ears. He couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities, all the things that could go wrong. His mother, tearing at the swatch of linen in her hands, opened her husband’s door to peek inside before turning her watery gaze on her son.
He patted her arm. “It’ll be fine, Mother. You go on back in there.”
She nodded once and turned to go back in the room before her panicked gaze found his again. “What are you going to do? You’re not leaving are you?”
“Of course not. I’m going to go speak to whoever’s on duty and can give me some information. I’m not leaving this hospital until you and Dad do.”
He waited for her to settle in next to her husband of forty-five years then headed to the nurse’s station. A cute blonde with big blue eyes gave him a huge smile as he approached.
“Yes sir, is there something I can do for you?”
“My father is scheduled for a heart by-pass in the morning. I need to know the name of his doctor, and I’d like to get a peek at his charts if it’s at all possible. I’m Dr. Tanner C
ollins, a neurosurgeon at St. Luke’s in Lake Coburn, Louisiana. Here’s my hospital I.D. and my credentials,” he said, pulling them out of his wallet. “I can get my mother over here if you’d like.”
She checked the I.D. and smiled at him. “That won’t be necessary, Dr. Collins. Mrs. Collins has been telling us about you. She’d checked with us a few times already this evening, asking if you’d come in yet. I can definitely see the family resemblance. Here’s all the information we have on your father at this time.”
After studying the findings, he flipped the last page back into place and made a few more notes to his pad before slipping it inside his pocket. He pushed the board across the counter to the nurse.
“There you go, and thanks for your help. Can you tell me what time we should expect the doctor to show up?”
“You’re very welcome. We have Mr. Collins scheduled for eight a.m., so I’m sure they’ll start prepping him at least an hour earlier. I’ll be gone by then, but I hope everything goes well with the surgery.”
He nodded, noticing her smile widen as she aimed a blatant gaze at his unadorned ring finger. He smiled back at her, recognizing all the signs of a woman on the prowl. He turned, carefully concealing his own sneak-peek at her ring finger, bare and missing a tan line. Tanner walked back to the room, feeling her eyes on him. Years of experience made him confident that if he chose to pursue the situation, it wouldn’t take much, if any, persuasion. He stopped at the door to his father’s room and turned back to verify she was still watching him. He thought of Sarah and her soft brown eyes and nodded without returning the nurse’s wave.
The next day, Tanner pushed open the door of his father’s room, carrying two coffees. He handed a coffee to his mother. “I put plenty of cream in yours but no sugar, as per your request.”
Celine thanked him and took a cautious sip. “I know the doctor said his surgery was a success, but will Justin be in a lot of pain when he wakes up?”
“They’ll give him something for the pain, Mother, don’t worry.”
“He won’t tell me if he’s in pain, you know. Just tries to suffer through it because he hates to take those painkillers.”
“He’ll take these meds, believe me.” He cringed at his mother’s wince, and immediately regretted his comment.
“Oh God, will the pain be that unbearable?” She wore a horrified expression.
Tanner put his cup down to show her on his own chest how long his father’s incision was. “You can’t see from the bandages, but he was cut from here to here and they have to use … tools … to keep him opened during surgery. He’ll be extremely sore for weeks, but they’ll give him good drugs. I promise you, if he takes the drugs, the pain will be manageable. Every week, every day, it will lessen and in a month, he’ll be back to his old self, but better. Okay?”
She blinked back her tears and nodded, pulling out a fresh linen handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes again, and he wanted to ask how many of those damn handkerchiefs she had on her. Did she have one hidden in each of her pockets? Was her purse also full of them? He took a sip of coffee and rested his head on the back of the couch.
“Tanner?”
“Yes?” He answered without raising his head.
“Should I bring in a nurse or do you think I’ll be able to handle him alone once we get home?”
“You’ve got excellent insurance and plenty of money for anything out of pocket. I’d say hire someone for the first couple of weeks. Dad’s a big man. He’s too big for you to handle alone. No use you hurting yourself if you don’t have to. I’ll make some calls and find you someone, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d relaxed to the point of nearly drifting off when she spoke again, jarring him awake.
“Son?”
“Yes?”
“Make sure she’s old.”
“Who?”
“The nurse. I want her old, and preferably ugly as sin. Do you think you can find someone like that?”
He lifted his head and rested his gaze on his mother. She sat there, her head resting on one hand—gone was the air of superiority and pretentiousness. “Mother?”
He’d been about to make a joke, but when she lifted her head to meet his gaze he tossed aside any possibility of a snide remark. Her face, etched with worry lines and exhaustion, also mirrored something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing there. For the first time in his memory, she seemed insecure. Maybe all the years of her husband’s carousing had taken its toll. Tanner had always thought she wasn’t concerned with his dad’s extra-curricular activities, as long as she got to keep her credit cards and the house of her choice. He couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d been wrong about over the years.
“Well, like I said, he’s a big guy, so you’ll need someone young and strong. I can inquire about male caretakers.”
She waved off that idea. “I don’t want him getting depressed and imagining I’m lusting after a man. That would be as bad as him lusting over some hot young thing.”
He did what he could to hold back the threatening chuckle. “I guess we could always go the other route. How about if she is young, strong, and only attracted to other women?”
“Oh, a lesbian. I hadn’t thought of that. Hmm, normally I don’t approve of that sort of thing—”
“You don’t have to approve, Mother. Just live and let live.”
“Oh, I know that son. I can be just as tolerant as the next person, but yes … yes, that could definitely work in this situation.”
He dropped his head back on the sofa, allowing himself the smile that had threatened since the beginning of the conversation.
Tanner cleared the last of his parents’ luggage out of his car and hauled it to their bedroom. He re-entered the living room just as his father’s new nurse was getting him settled in the brand new electric recliner.
“How’s that, Mr. Collins?” she asked, the slightest hint of a Jamaican accent present in her voice.
Justin Collins gave his nurse a drowsy comeback. “Ahh … I can’t believe it took me having a heart attack to get a recliner in this house.”
Zoe, a gorgeous young woman with creamy skin the color of mocha latte, and big brown eyes, giggled. “Ah, she won’t allow it, eh? My mom’s the same way. She says they’re all ugly and won’t have them in the house.”
“All my friends have ‘em …” Justin drawled, his voice trailing off into unconsciousness.
“And, he’s out,” Zoe whispered, grabbing the handle to her wheeled suitcase. “Mrs. Collins, where can I put this?”
Celine pointed down the hallway. “The guest room is down there and to the left, Miss … I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your last name. My head is so fuzzy from lack of sleep.”
“It’s Powell, but I’d prefer if you called me Zoe.”
“All right, Zoe. As long as you call me Celine.”
Zoe made a face. “How about Ms. Celine? My granny would whoop me good for being disrespectful if I called an elder by a first name.”
Tanner held his breath, waiting for his mother to come unglued at being called an ‘elder’. To his surprise, she seemed pleased rather than offended by the young woman’s admission.
“Your granny certainly taught you right, Zoe. If you’re comfortable calling me Ms. Celine, that’s fine by me.”
Zoe cast a critical glance at her new employer. “Although, you’re much too pretty and elegant to think of you as elderly, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so, Ms. Celine.”
Celine beamed in obvious pleasure. “I think I can handle a little flattery. You go right on ahead.”
Tanner grabbed the handle of Zoe’s suitcase and another cumbersome backpack so she could take the rest of her personal items to the guest room.
She gasped in delight as she stepped through the door he opened for her. “What a pretty room. My Granny would say this place is stoosh. That means rich back in the islands, mon.”
Tanner nodded. “I’ve heard people say
that in Jamaica. Is that where your Grandmother lives?”
“For most of her life, but she’s been an American citizen for twenty years. I’ve lived in the same house with her since I was a baby.”
Tanner grinned at her. “Ah, that’s where you picked up a little of the accent.”
“Yeah, I spend a lot of time with her, so I find myself slipping into it on occasion. I can try to tone it down if you think it will bother your parents.”
He waved away her concern. “Be yourself, Zoe.” Tanner opened two other doors to show her the walk-in closet, as well as her own bathroom. “Looks like you got the deluxe suite. If you think of anything else you may need, let me know. I’ll be here the rest of the day and tonight, but I’ve got to head back to Lake Coburn tomorrow. I need to get back to my job.”
“Just the job? No wife, no babies, no girlfriend?” she asked, her Jamaican lilt making another appearance.
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Nope. I don’t swing that way.”
She gave him a huge grin. “Ah, too bad! And here I had the perfect chi chi, batty mon in mind for ya.”
He threw his head back in laughter. “Well, thanks but no thanks.”
“That being the case, I do have a beautiful older sister who’s as straight as a highway in Kansas, and she’s single. Interested?”
Tanner shoved one hand in the pocket of his Dockers and headed for the door. “Not at this time, but thanks.”
“Oh, I see.”
He looked back from the doorway. “What do you see?”
“You’ve got girl trouble. And Granny would add, “You lub sum’ady kyaan done. Rahtid!”
Tanner stared at her. “I’m sorry, but what the hell did you just say?”
She dissolved into laughter. “What I said, was… ‘Your love for somebody can never end’. Basically, there’s someone you love a lot.”
“There’s someone I admire, yes, but I don’t love her.”
“Ay mon ! Si `ow yu stay? Yu can nuh say sup’m.” She giggled at the clueless look he sent her. “Loosely translated, you do, but you can’t admit it yet.” She beamed up at him, her white teeth perfectly aligned in a wide mouth. “You’ve got the look of a man with a bad case of longing for a woman. Not any woman, mind you, but a particular woman.”