A Panicked Premonition
Page 37
Dave’s eyes went wide. “Whoa.”
“Yep,” I told him. “You’re a hero, Dave.”
He blushed and turned his face toward the ceiling. I withdrew my hand and let him have a moment of quiet. He seemed to need it.
“How’re we doing?” we heard.
I turned my head to look behind me and instantly regretted it. “I’m ready to get the hell outta here,” I confessed.
Gwen stroked the hair on the side of my head without the enormous bump. “You’re not going anywhere until the results of your MRI come back, Abby.”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, yeah? How about you sit up and tell me that?”
I made a halfhearted effort to lift my torso off the gurney and gave up when the world started doing its Tilt-A-Whirl impression. “On second thought, maybe I could hang here a little longer.”
“Is she giving you sass?” I heard Candice ask.
“She is,” Gwen replied. “But it’s refreshing given the model patient I’ve had to care for over the past couple of days.” Gwen’s voice practically dripped with sarcasm.
“Hey, I was good!” Dave protested.
“Locked in a room with Dave McKenzie for days on end,” I said with a smirk. “I can’t imagine the horror.”
“Shut it, Cooper,” Dave said, but I could hear the mirth in his voice.
“Has she seen the doctor yet?” Dutch’s demanding voice called down the hallway. “Why hasn’t she seen the doctor yet? Somebody find a doctor for my wife!” That last part sort of drifted off down the hallway, and I knew he was back on his mission to find me a doctor, STAT!
Gwen rolled her eyes, and winked at me. “He’s been like that since you were wheeled in.”
“If only he cared more.” We all laughed.
Candice came to my head then and said, “I have a nurse coming soon to help you wash some of that off, Sundance.”
“Thank you.” I felt my eyes well. Being in such close proximity to someone committing suicide isn’t an easy thing to handle emotionally, in case you’re wondering. I was trying like hell to push the trauma of the experience out of my mind, but I’d probably have to see someone about it. Eventually.
“Do you feel like eating anything?” she asked next.
I nodded. I was starving.
“Steamed veggies over quinoa?”
I gave her a look that said, “Get real.”
“Mixed greens with grilled chicken?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Zucchini noodles with pan-seared salmon?”
“Candice?”
“Yeah?”
“For once, could you think like my stomach?”
Candice tapped her lips thoughtfully. Finally, she said, “Nachos?”
“Now you’re talking,” I said, settling back on the gurney to close my eyes. “And maybe add a side of chili-cheese fries while you’re at it.”
Next to me, Dave said, “Hey, Candice, can you make that an order for two?”
“For an old friend like you, Dave?” Candice said. “There’s not a lot we wouldn’t do.”
Truer words were never spoken.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author and real-life professional psychic Victoria Laurie drew from her career as a gifted intuitive to create the characters of Abigail Cooper in the Psychic Eye Mysteries, including A Grave Prediction and Sense of Deception, and M. J. Holliday in the Ghost Hunter Mysteries, including A Ghoul’s Guide to Love and Murder and No Ghouls Allowed. She lives in Michigan with two spoiled dachshunds, Lilly and Toby, and one opinionated parrot named Doc. Visit Laurie online at victorialaurie.com, facebook.com/groups/VictoriaLaurieFans, and twitter.com/@victoria_Laurie.
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