Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men) (13 page)

BOOK: Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men)
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“What about dessert?” Frank asked, adding, “And I haven’t told
you all the stories about your aunt yet.”

Grace knew he was stalling for time, stalling so she’d have to
order more to eat for him, so she waved her hand, saying, “Your aunt Missy
stories can wait for another day, we have more important things to tend to right
now, like your health. Since they don’t serve fruit salad here, we don’t need
dessert.” She passed her credit card to the waiter. She got up and went to sign
her credit card slip at the checkout counter, then turned and crooked her index
finger at the mayor. “Come on, Frank. The rest of your life starts today.”

* * *

G
RACE
CALLED
L
UCY
and asked
if she could use her facility to run a few tests. Lucy, of course, agreed, and
on discovering Grace’s patient was Frank, who didn’t want to be seen surrounded
by pregnant women, told Grace where to find the rear entrance.

Outside Rusty’s, Frank opened the door of his enormous Cadillac
for Grace. Once they were both inside, she said, “Frank, please don’t tell me
you drove your car all of two blocks from the town hall to Rusty’s?”

His Caddy roared to life—more life than Grace feared Frank had
left in him.

“’Course, I drive her everywhere. People need to know who’s the
boss around here. This old girl is a mark of the respect I’m given as
mayor.”

“Which you won’t get if you’re dead.”

Frank had just pulled out onto Main Street. He slammed on his
brakes, but fortunately there wasn’t any other traffic.

“Now, look here, little lady. You gotta stop talkin’ about me
dyin’, okay?”

“No, it isn’t okay. If you have anywhere to go in town from now
on, you’re to walk.
Got it?

Frank’s lips tightened and he pressed the accelerator, not
taking his foot off it until they drove into the hospital’s parking lot.

* * *

F
RANK

S
TEST
RESULTS
were worse than she’d
expected. He was a hairsbreadth from a heart attack. She wanted to admit him
right away, but true to form, Frank had resisted.

As they drove back to Spruce Lake, Grace called Mrs. C., asking
her to close the shop and meet her and Frank in Grace’s apartment. Neutral
ground was best for news like this. She and Mrs. C. were going to stage an
intervention. When they pulled into the parking lot, Jack was there with
Millie.

Grace’s dog just about twisted herself inside out with
excitement to see her new owner. Grace felt much the same way about Millie.
Already the dog had made a difference in her life. She’d given her a purpose—one
she hadn’t felt strongly in her busy Boston practice in too many months.

After effusive greetings between human and dog, Jack asked with
concern, “What’s up? I stopped by to find out how your meeting went when Mrs. C.
got your call. Anything I can do? She’s a bit of a mess. She knows you took him
to the maternity clinic in Silver Springs. He isn’t pregnant, is he?” he asked,
and winked.

They both turned to look at Frank as he got out of his car—not
without some difficulty. He had such a huge potbelly, he resembled a pregnant
woman—one carrying octuplets.

Grace smiled, appreciating the attempt at levity. “No, I wish
it was as simple as that. I need to talk to him and Mrs. C. Would you mind
taking Millie for a while? I don’t want an overexcited dog in the way.”

Jack took Millie’s leash. “Sure.”

Grace glanced at the steps leading to her apartment and decided
Frank probably wouldn’t make it up them. But before she could stop him, Frank
started up the stairs. He got about halfway, then halted, catching his breath.
Mrs. C., who had been waiting by Grace’s door, raced down to him. “Frank! What’s
the matter, you idiot?” she almost shrieked.

Grace turned to Jack. “Would you mind not taking Millie too
far? I might need your help either to keep her from killing him or him from
killing himself.”

Jack leaned in and kissed Grace’s cheek. The warmth of his
lips, the touch of his hand as it cupped the back of her head, were just what
she needed right now. “Call me and I’ll be here in a nanosecond, okay?” he
said.

Grace nodded, said, “Thanks,” and began to mount the stairs to
her apartment.

Frank was panting heavily, and Grace was having severe
misgivings about the wisdom of making him climb those steps.

* * *

T
HANKFULLY
,
DURING
THE
drive from the hospital to Spruce Lake, Frank’s usual ornery attitude seemed to
have mellowed. Grace explained the tests she’d done, and Mrs. C.—who’d insisted
she call her Edna—had tried saying, “I told you so!” more than once, but Grace
had shushed her. The older woman had to understand that now wasn’t the time for
recriminations.

When she’d finished explaining how Frank’s lifestyle had to
change and change drastically, Edna had said, “Will you be Frank’s doctor,
Grace? I trust you. That old fool Jenkins has been pumping him full of
prescription drugs for his heart, his liver, everything! And Frank thinks
because he’s got the drugs he can do whatever he wants.”

Grace told them that, too often, people resorted to drugs,
believing them to be the cure-all, a green light to continue destructive habits.
Frank looked suitably chastened, if not terrified. Whether it was of his wife or
his prognosis, Grace wasn’t sure, but it was about time Frank took stock of his
health and did something about it.

“I’m not a heart specialist,” she said.

“I...I thought you knew what to do to help him,” Edna said.

“I do. But I’d also like him to consult a cardiologist. In
fact, if I can make an emergency appointment, I’d like him to see one in Denver
tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! It’s that bad?”

“The results aren’t good. He needs to see a specialist.”

Guessing that much of the alarm in Edna’s expression was about
entrusting her husband’s health to a stranger, she said, “I’d be more than happy
to look after Frank under the guidance of the cardiologist while I’m in Spruce
Lake. Would that be all right?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Edna grasped Grace’s hand. “You’re a
godsend. I’ve been at my husband for ages. I put him on a diet, but I suspect he
doesn’t eat his salads and sneaks into Rusty’s instead.”

Grace smiled and stood. “I’ll call some colleagues of mine in
Boston and see if they can arrange anything with their colleagues in Denver. It
might take a few hours. Why don’t I stop by your place as soon as I have
news?”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much, Grace!” Edna
said.

Frank had got to his feet with difficulty and stood there
wheezing. “Thanks, Doc,” he said, and shuffled to the door. The poor man seemed
to have aged ten years in the past hour or so. Grace felt guilty about it, but
that was what she had to do to save his life—tell him the plain truth.

He turned to her at the door. “What am I allowed to have for
dinner tonight?”

“Grilled chicken breast, no skin. As much salad as you like
with lemon juice for dressing. No dessert except a piece of fruit.”

Frank looked totally miserable, while Edna looked triumphant
that a doctor was now telling her husband what he could and couldn’t eat.

“And don’t drive your car home, Frank. You can manage the block
from here to there, okay? Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to take a
leisurely walk, the first of many.”

Jack, waiting outside with Millie, bounded up the stairs and
placed a hand under Frank’s arm. Frank shrugged him off. “I ain’t dead yet,
boy!” he said, and took another step down.

“No one said you were, Frank, but I was taught to respect my
elders, and since you’re old and ornery, I’ll help you down these stairs.”

“Cheeky young whippersnapper,” Grace heard Frank mumble as he
allowed Jack to help him.

Grace leaned against her doorjamb, her arms crossed as she
watched Edna and Frank cross the lot and walk down the back lane to their own
house a block away.

Millie hobbled up the stairs, licked Grace’s leg and wandered
into the apartment. Jack followed her and stopped in front of Grace.

“Bad day?” he asked.

“Really bad. Hold me?”

They wrapped their arms around each other, Grace nestling her
head against his strong chest and just breathing him in. Being with Jack was
like being in a kind of sanctuary....

“Want to talk about it?”

Reluctantly Grace let him go and they went into her apartment.
She collapsed on the sofa beside Millie, who placed her nose on Grace’s thigh,
turning her sweet brown eyes up to Grace as if to say, “We’ve got each other, so
everything will be fine now.”

Grace hugged her dog, and then her shoulders began to tremble
as she held back tears. Jack sat beside her, put his arm around her and said,
“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

“Everything’s wrong! Frank is really ill and I’m worried I did
the wrong thing by not admitting him to the hospital today. I should’ve called a
cardiologist then and there instead of bringing him home!”

“So call a cardiologist now. Weren’t you planning to do that,
anyway? Set your mind at ease.”

Grace looked up at him. “Thank you for being here—and being the
voice of reason.”

She got out her cell phone and called a cardiologist she knew
in Boston. She told him about Frank’s age and his test results.

Dr. Giles said, “Relax, Grace. You did the right thing. I doubt
the patient would have allowed you to admit him, by the sound of it. Let me make
a few inquiries. I’ll have one of the best cardiologists in Denver call you,
okay?”

Grace released a pent-up breath as she ended the conversation.
“Thank God.” She leaned her head against Jack.

“Feel like taking a walk to clear your head?” he asked. “I’d
like to hear how the meeting went with the town today.”

* * *

T
HE
EVENING
WALK
ended up being just what Grace
needed. She loved Jack’s company and enjoyed walking as Millie met other dogs.
During the walk, a cardiologist from Denver called and offered to squeeze Frank
in the following day. She thanked him profusely and they changed direction
toward Frank’s house.

They were greeted on the front porch by his pet pig, Louella,
who ignored Jack in favor of Grace and Millie. Satisfied that they weren’t a
threat to her esteemed position in Frank’s life, she snorted and allowed them to
pass.

Edna met them at the door. “Grace! Jack! Nice to see you both
again so soon. Come in, please. Frank and I are just finishing dinner.”

She showed them into the kitchen of their restored Victorian.
Frank was sitting at the dinner table eyeing a sliced apple. He looked
miserable. Grace guessed he would prefer brownies. Sitting next to him, she
said, “I hope you liked your dinner, Frank. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” he growled. “And now I get
this
for dessert!”

Grace stole one of the apple wedges and offered him another. He
took it suspiciously.

“It won’t bite,” she assured him, and ate her own slice.

“Hey!” he said. “That’s mine!”

“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll eat some more.”

That motivated Frank to stop sulking and start eating.

“A cardiologist in Denver has cleared time in his schedule to
see you tomorrow afternoon,” she told the older couple. “I accepted the
appointment on your behalf. I assume that’s fine with you?”

“Thank you!” Edna cried. Frank was too busy chewing his apple
to do anything other than nod.

“I don’t have a car—otherwise, I’d drive you down myself,” she
said. “However, I’d like to attend the appointment, if you don’t mind?”

“You’d do all that? For us? Now that’s what I call being a
real
doctor!” Edna said. “But aren’t there
things you have to do here, Grace? Frank told me about the plans for the medical
center. How exciting! I’m sure Missy would’ve loved to see her old home used in
that way.”

“I have a lot of paperwork to complete,” Grace said. “But
seeing Frank properly assessed and starting a course of treatment is more
important right now.”

Frank swallowed the last of his apple and said, “I can help you
with the forms, little lady. And I do appreciate all your efforts today. My wife
gave me quite a talking-to tonight.” He placed his hand over Edna’s.

“Old fool!” Edna muttered affectionately.

Grace and Jack exchanged smiles. Grace had been worried about
Frank’s agreeing to treatment, especially curtailing his diet or increasing his
exercise, but she had a feeling that with her and Edna on his case, he had a
chance.

Everyone agreed that Grace would meet them at the house at
eleven the next morning to drive to Denver, and Jack and Grace waved goodbye,
Millie pulling at her leash.

“I don’t have much in the fridge to offer for dinner,” Grace
said. “But I could whip up a quiche and salad. That’s pretty simple.”

“Sounds great,” Jack said. “I take it you’re not up to going
out tonight?”

Grace drew in a huge breath. “Thanks, but no. I’m drained and
I’d like to work on the forms for a couple of hours before we leave for Denver
in the morning.”

Jack laid his palm against her cheek. “I could help with that,
too.”

“Thanks. But you have enough on your plate. Beth has those new
plans for you to give us a quote on—I can see this costing a whole lot more than
I’d budgeted for, but I think it’s going to be worth it.”

Just as soon as she’d got the approvals done and the work
started and Frank established on a course of coronary care, she’d head back to
Boston. She couldn’t keep pretending she might stay in Spruce Lake. The daily
emails from the clinic she shared with other specialists, asking when she
expected to return, were making it harder and harder to resist the call of
helping others. She’d just needed a break from medicine, to regroup. Well, she’d
had that and now it was time to think about getting on with the rest of her
life.

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