by Claire Adams
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eric
By Tuesday morning, I still hadn't found an alternate sitter for Emma like I had promised Olivia that I would do. I took Emma out to breakfast that morning, trying to figure out what to do. As we went by the daycare, I saw that it was, in fact, open for the day, and Harlan was just arriving. But I also knew that I wasn't ready to see Olivia, even if she did keep the daycare open.
I shook my head and looked at Emma in the rearview mirror. “How do you feel about coming to work with Daddy today, pumpkin?” I asked her. I didn't have many appointments scheduled for the day, and they were all in-office appointments, so this would work out. It wasn't a permanent solution by any means: the next day, I knew I had nearly twice as many appointments, and most of them were house calls. But that would give me at least one more day to figure out what to do. Maybe I would be able to find an alternate daycare or a nanny.
I felt some trepidation about bringing Emma into the office for the full day, but I was armed with plenty of coloring books and the promise of ice cream that evening if she was well-behaved. Emma seemed happy to go along with that plan. She definitely seemed to be behaving better recently, which I chalked up to the time she'd spent with Olivia at the daycare. I didn't know what kind of magic the woman had worked, or if it was maybe that Emma was just growing up and getting more mature, but it was a godsend.
Olivia.
I sighed. I hadn't been able to get our argument out of my head, and even though I felt justified in saying everything that I'd said, I also knew that hadn't been the most tactful time or place for it. And I hated knowing that I had upset her that badly when she was already so worried about her mother.
Still, it was true: if she had tried harder, I doubted we would be in this position now. I wasn't ready to lose someone else to cancer. I was already dealing with Helen's memory loss; there was only so much that I could take.
And to be honest, I still felt guilty about the whole thing. Olivia's words had hit home in too many ways. I probably should have tried harder, rather than trying to rely on Olivia to convince her mother. But every time I had to think about Jeannie's situation, I was stuck thinking about Emily's situation and all the similarities. Still, I felt like I had dropped the ball as Jeannie's primary physician.
Nor could I blame Olivia for calling me out on that, not when I knew she was already upset at the time, not when I laid into her like I did. Of course, she would lash out at me in response. Of course, she was upset with me. I felt like an ass.
I didn't know where to go from there. I wouldn't be able to avoid Olivia forever; we were bound to run into one another around town or at the hospital. And there was still the matter of daycare if I couldn't find an alternative solution for Emma. But for today, I tried to put her out of my mind.
Tried being the operative word.
Emma hummed along as she colored in a picture of a giraffe, using blue and green crayons for some reason. Not that I was going to interrupt her creativity. I smiled over at her, glad that she, at least, still seemed happy. She didn't have to worry about adult things yet; she still retained her innocence. I wanted that for as long as I could have it.
The door swung open, and I frowned up at the person entering. I didn't have any appointments scheduled for now, and I had been hoping to make a dent in the massive stack of paperwork that had been piling up. I felt like I'd been distracted for weeks, unable to focus as well as I should because of all my thoughts about Olivia.
Again, it wouldn't be fair to blame her for that.
I sighed when I saw who had entered. “Georgia.”
“Hello, Dr. Jones,” she said in that falsely pleasant voice of hers. As she walked toward my desk, she swayed her hips more than necessary, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I didn't have the patience to deal with her on a good day, and this was far from being a good day. But here in my office, I needed to try to be professional. Especially since that day, I had Emma with me.
I glanced over at the girl, wishing there was some way I could drag Georgia into another room and leave Emma unsupervised so that she wouldn't have to hear the conversation that I was sure would happen. But even if I had another place to talk to Georgia, I didn't want to think of what she would do, if we were alone in a room together.
I shuddered just thinking about it.
“You don't have an appointment,” I told Georgia. “But if you'd like to schedule one for later in the week, I'll see if I can fit it in.”
“I'm going to be out of town for most of the week, and I need a full physical before I set off,” Georgia said, her smile all teeth. She looked around exaggeratedly. “But since you don't seem busy right now, you probably have time, don't you?”
I closed my eyes and counted to 10. “Georgia, it doesn't work that way,” I said through gritted teeth. “You need to make an appointment, just like any other patient in this town. Even when I don't have appointments, I have other tasks to do. This mountain of paperwork, for one thing.”
“But Dr. Jones, what if it was an emergency?” Georgia asked, widening her eyes. “Why, I heard that yesterday you ran out at the end of one of your appointments because someone was very sick.”
There were so many things I loved about living in a small town, but the gossip was definitely not one of them. “I think if it were an emergency, you'd probably be a little more distressed,” I said, trying to keep my tone mild.
“If there's nothing wrong with me, then surely a physical shouldn't take too long,” Georgia hounded.
I rolled my eyes that time. “Fine,” I snapped. “I can only do a partial physical, though, because as you can see, Emma's here today, and I can't leave her unattended.” I knew what she was up to, but I had to play my cards right. The last thing I needed to do was deal with a crazed woman screaming lies in hopes of bending me over. I could play her games and still come out unscathed.
“Fine,” Georgia said, helping herself to one of the paper robes and going into the back room to change. I half-expected her to strip down right there in front of both of us.
When she came back out, she hopped up on the examination table in the front room, and I went through the basic checks: vision, reflexes, heart rate. As suspected, there was nothing wrong with her.
“You know, Doctor,” she said, leaning in close as I listened to her heart. “If you wanted to carry out the rest of the examination, I'm free tonight.”
I sputtered. “Excuse me?” I asked.
“Well, this is just so formal,” Georgia said, her eyes glinting. “I figured maybe you'd be more comfortable if you examined me at your leisure, over a bottle of wine.”
I knew that she had been building to something like this for a long time, but it still took me by surprise. Even if I could spare a moment to think about her proposal, I knew that I wouldn't want to go over there. Forget everything with Olivia and Jeannie. There was also everything with Helen. Plus, I would have to find someone who could watch Emma for the night. And the whole town would be buzzing, because Georgia wasn't going to keep it silent.
I shook my head and took a step back. “Georgia, you know my feelings on this; I've made them quite clear,” I said quietly, looking over at Emma. But fortunately, the young girl still seemed oblivious to our conversation. It didn't mean that she wasn't listening, but I had to hope she wouldn't understand what we were talking about, and at least she wasn't upset.
“You could use a little more fun in your life, though,” Georgia said. “You work so hard; you deserve a chance to relax over a nice evening and a bottle of wine.”
“Georgia, I'm still dealing with the death of my wife,” I told her. “I can't possibly think of starting a relationship with someone else. And now, Helen is going through a decline in health. I have enough on my plate already without having to worry about the town gossips.”
“It's been two years since Emily's death,” Georgia snapped, and I glanced over at Emma, giving Georgia a pointed look of warning. That mask of sweetne
ss was back in an instant. She took a step closer, well inside my personal boundaries, putting a hand on my chest. “Darling, the only way you're going to come to terms with her death is if you find some other interest,” she told me. “Someone else who sparks your romantic side.”
I drew in a deep breath, realizing that I had to be frank with her. “Georgia, I'm not interested in you,” I said flatly.
Georgia's face went through a complicated set of emotions, but she did a surprisingly good job of masking her rage. “It's been two years since Emily died,” she repeated in a low, threatening voice. “I can't wait around much longer for you to get over her.”
I scowled. “Georgia, I'm not asking you to wait around,” I told her. “I'm not interested in you in that way.”
“Because you think you could do better with Olivia?” Georgia asked, a sharp smile on her face. “I know the two of you are fucking. But I also know that Olivia is fucking Buck. She's a little slut; you could do so much better than her.”
Anger pulsed through me. “I'd appreciate it if you would stop using such foul language around my daughter,” I snarled, not even having to look at Emma to know that she was wide-eyed and staring. Of course, my angry tone probably didn't help the situation, either.
“So she's your rebound; I get it,” Georgia said. “But now that she's fucking someone else and it's over with her, why don't you move on? I could give you the relationship that you've been craving.”
“Get out of my office,” I said, suddenly unable to take it. She'd been pushy and suggestive ever since Emily had died, but this was too far. I couldn't even believe her, talking about Olivia like that. And for how I was upset with Olivia at the moment, I didn't really believe that she was sleeping with Buck. I believed her when she said that they had slept in separate rooms at the wedding, and I believed her when she said that she was only interested in me. Georgia was, undoubtedly, just trying to stir things up in her favor.
“You're going to see,” Georgia told me. “You'll regret getting involve with that whore.”
I shoved her clothes into her arms and pushed her toward the door, not even letting her stop and change even though I could only imagine what the town would say if she tumbled out there nearly naked. I just needed her away from me and away from Emma, who was starting to cry, her eyes fearful.
I shut the door firmly behind Georgia, and for good measure, I locked it as well. Then, I turned back to Emma, moving to comfort her even though I was still shaking with rage.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Olivia
Wednesday morning, I went to the hospital to visit Mom again. I had spoken to Harlan's mom the night before and told her that I wasn't able to keep the daycare open for the week, something that I should have done on Monday when Mom first went into the hospital. But I had thought, somehow, that she would be coming home, that this was just a routine problem and that everything was going to be all right. Then, by the time I'd gotten home that evening, it had been too late to call over and tell Mrs. Ambrose that I couldn't watch Harlan the following day.
I didn't know what Eric was doing with Emma for the week since I knew he couldn't leave her with Helen anymore. But he hadn't brought her in, and I hadn't called to ask. I was still so upset with him, and I couldn't believe the things that he had said to me.
“Ah, Ms. Sable,” one of the doctors said as he entered the room. I recognized him vaguely from my trip to the hospital on Monday. He shook my hand as I stood up. “I'm Dr. Halsey, one of the leading oncologists here, and I've been keeping an eye on your mother. Could we step out into the hallway for a moment to discuss our options at this point?”
I looked back at Mom, but she smiled tiredly up at me. “I need to take a nap anyway,” she told me, her voice raspy from the coughing that she'd done and slurred from the sedatives they were giving her to help treat the pain.
I nodded at her, blinking back tears, and stepped out into the hall.
“I'm afraid things aren't looking very good for your mother,” Dr. Halsey said, looking sympathetic. “At this point, we only have two options.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Eric—or rather, Dr. Jones—mentioned something about operating on her, to remove the tumors from her lungs. But he didn't seem to think that was a good idea.”
Dr. Halsey frowned. “It's a risky operation,” he told me. “And I can't guarantee that it would be effective. However, if we were successfully able to remove the tumors, we could try to start radiation therapy to get rid of the cancer.” He paused. “But I don't want to mislead you: the chances are slim, even if the operation did go well. And as I'm sure you know, surgery and chemotherapy can be very expensive.”
“I understand that,” I said, nodding my head. “But you said there were two options, didn't you? Maybe some sort of experimental treatment?”
Dr. Halsey sighed. “I'm afraid that option B is to make your mother as comfortable as possible and realize that she won't be long for this world.”
“Oh,” I said in a small voice. So it was exactly what Eric had already told me, albeit in kinder words than he had used. I glanced back toward the door to Mom's room, wishing that I could talk it over with her. But that was out of the question, in her given state. The sedatives were too strong, and she couldn't talk very much given the difficulty that she was having with breathing.
I considered talking things over with Dr. Halsey, but I didn't like the idea of Mom's life resting in the hands of someone who was so impartial. Dr. Halsey didn't know Mom. He couldn't possibly weigh in on what she might want.
“I know it's a difficult decision to make, but it's important that you make the decision soon if you want to try to undergo surgery,” Dr. Halsey reminded me. “The longer we wait, the more time the cancer is going to have. Soon, it could be impossible to even attempt to remove her tumors. Because you have power of attorney, and given your mother's current state, it's up to you to decide on her behalf.”
I nodded distractedly, still thinking of who I could talk to about this. But I knew there was only one option: Eric. I bit my lower lip, wondering if he would even agree to talk to me. I had to call him, though.
“Thank you, Dr. Halsey,” I said. “I'll let you know as soon as I've made the decision.”
As he turned away and walked down the hall, I pulled out my phone, finger hesitating over the call button. Finally, I shook my head and headed out to my car, driving back into town. It would be better to do this in person.
I knocked on the door of Eric's office before poking my head inside. He was alone, but it looked like he was just on his way out the door. I pushed down a surge of disappointment.
Eric looked surprised to see me. “How's your mother?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No change,” I told him. I paused, wondering if I should apologize. But I couldn't feel sorry for yelling at him, not when he'd said such mean things to me. I decided to just push past it. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about the surgery. I don't know who else to talk to.”
Eric's face looked sympathetic for a moment. Then, he looked at his watch. “I was just headed out for lunch,” he told me. “And I have appointments all afternoon.”
“Maybe we could talk over lunch?” I asked, feeling desperation surge inside of me. If he refused to talk to me about this, there was no way I'd be able to make a decision.
Eric studied my face for a long moment. “Why don't we grab a picnic lunch and drive up to the lake, where we won't be disturbed?” he suggested. “I'll cancel my afternoon appointments.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You head to the grocery store and grab provisions,” Eric instructed. “I'll reschedule my appointments. I should be ready to go by the time you get back.”
I nodded, glad to have something to do, and scurried out of the doctor's office and over to the general store.
Our drive up to the lake was silent. I wanted to talk, but I wasn't sure what to say. Talking about Mom's medical situation while Eric
was driving didn't seem like the best idea. But the comfortable camaraderie that we once had seemed to have vanished, replaced by a terse and awkward silence that persisted until we had finished our food.
We were sitting on the hood of his car, enjoying the warm, late spring weather and the view of the lake. It could have been romantic, but romance was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. Instead, my thoughts were consumed with the fight that we'd had and with thoughts of my mother's declining health.
“I presume you talked to Dr. Halsey,” Eric said finally.
I nodded, glad to have that opening. “I did,” I said. I sighed. “He told me the same thing that you did: that the only two options are to either try to remove the tumors surgically or else to accept that she's going to pass very soon.” I paused. “I don't know how to decide for her, though. But it's not like she's in the right state of mind to make the decision herself.”
Eric hummed a response, but he didn't say anything. I barreled on.
“I think I want to try the surgery, but I feel selfish for thinking that,” I admitted. “Mom was so adamant that she didn't want to go through with chemotherapy and the rest of it, and I feel like I'm going against her wishes if I drag her through those treatment options. What if she manages to make it through the surgery and hates me for it? But I thought, maybe if I knew more about the surgery, that would help me make my decision.”
“And you couldn't talk about this with Halsey?” Eric asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
I swallowed hard, glancing away, toward the lake. “He didn't know her,” I said.
“Doesn't know her,” Eric corrected, something twisting in his face. “She's still alive, albeit hospitalized.”
“Right,” I said softly. “He doesn't know her. I can't rely on him to help me choose what's best for her if he has no idea what she might want.” I gave a brittle laugh. “I know that sounds stupid and probably doesn't make much sense.”