Authors: Sherryl Woods
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary
“If I were, would that bother you?”
“You know it would,” she said.
“Why? Because it would mean I’m staying, just the way I told you I was?” He gave her a knowing look. “Or because it would mean I wasn’t waiting around for you to invite me to come back home?”
She scowled. “Are you looking at houses or not?”
“Not,” he said, then pointedly glanced at the menu. “What do you recommend tonight, sugar? The fried catfish or the scallops?”
She looked as if she wanted to recommend that he do something that was physically impossible, but she apparently thought better of it. “The catfish is one of our bestsellers,” she said, her voice tight.
“Then that’s what I’ll have,” he said cheerfully. “With a side of information.”
Her expression turned wary. “About Annie?”
“No. As a matter of fact, what I really want to hear about is your social life,” he said, clearly startling her. “Anybody special in your life since I left?”
“None of your business,” she said flatly.
“Just trying to get a feel for the competition,” he told her, enjoying the quick rise of color in her cheeks.
“You are so not in the race,” she claimed.
“You so do not want to challenge me like that,” he retorted with amusement. “Not unless you’re ready for the consequences.”
“What consequences?” she asked, a hint of alarm in her voice.
Below the table, he touched his knee to hers. In the booth’s close quarters, there was no place for her to flee, not without causing a scene. His gaze locked on her mouth. Then, before she could snatch her hand away, he picked it up and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, then lifted it to his lips and skimmed a kiss across skin that had been nicked more than once by a paring knife. Though she did her best to feign indifference, he could feel her pulse scramble in her wrist, and saw her eyes darken with the first stirring of desire.
Satisfied that he’d gotten the hoped-for reaction, he lowered her hand to the table and winked. “That, for starters.”
Her hand shook as she picked up her glass of water. She took a long swallow, seemed to debate tossing the rest in his face, then murmured, “You’re a pig.”
“You’ve called me worse,” he noted.
“You’ve deserved worse.”
“No doubt about it,” he agreed. “Now that we’ve established that, let’s go back to your social life. Who’s in your bed these days, Dana Sue?”
“I am not discussing this with you,” she said heatedly. “Either we order right this second or I am out of here.”
“Let’s order,” he said at once. “I can eat and ask you questions at the same time. Maybe food will improve your mood. It used to.”
She glared at him, beckoned to the waitress and placed an order for the chocolate decadence cake and nothing else. “He’s having the catfish,” she said tersely when Brenda rushed right over, clearly eager to impress her boss. “And a side of rat poison, if Erik knows where it is.”
The girl’s pen paused in midair and her eyes widened. “What?”
Dana Sue gave her a weak smile. “Just kidding. The catfish, fries and vegetables will do.”
“Okay,” Brenda said, and hurried away.
Two seconds later, Erik came storming out of the kitchen and arrived at their table with an intimidating scowl on his face. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his gaze on Ronnie.
“Your boss is in a snit,” he answered. “Not to worry. I’m used to her moods.”
“If she’s ordering the chocolate decadence cake for herself, she’s not in a snit. She’s trying to kill herself.”
“Erik!” she warned.
She spoke in a tone that even Ronnie recognized as meaning she was way past the end of her patience. Erik didn’t seem fazed, however, which Ronnie thought was something in his favor.
“Well, dammit, I am not contributing to your downfall by bringing you that cake,” Erik said. He whirled on Ronnie. “And if you gave a damn about her, you wouldn’t have let her order it.”
Ronnie knew he was missing something here, something important. He faced Dana Sue. “What’s he talking about?”
“Something that’s none of his business or yours,” she said, tossing her napkin on the table. “Men!” she muttered, as if it were a four-letter word. She rose and stalked off.
Ronnie was relieved to see that she’d headed for the kitchen, rather than out the front door.
“Maybe you should tell me what’s going on,” he told Erik.
“Yeah, I should, but I need to get back in there and stop her from doing something stupid. Your catfish will be right out.”
Ronnie stared after them and debated following. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d just witnessed some weird sort of lovers’ tiff or something else entirely. Whatever it had been, it was clear that those two had something between them. Ronnie honestly didn’t think it was a relationship, not a sexual one, anyway, but they were clearly close enough that they confided in and protected one another.
So what secret did Dana Sue have that she didn’t want to share with him? Until a couple of years ago, Ronnie had known everything there was to know about her. He knew how she couldn’t start her day without coffee. He knew she wore socks to bed when the weather turned cool. He even knew exactly where every one of her erogenous zones were, including one that had never been on a chart in any sex manual he’d ever seen.
And though she’d never said a word about it, he knew how desperately she missed her mom and how terrified she was that one day she, too, would develop diabetes.
At that thought, a lightbulb went off in his head. Diabetes! No wonder Erik had freaked when she’d ordered the cake and nothing more. Since Ronnie had been gone, Dana Sue had apparently started having problems with her blood sugar, problems she didn’t want him to know anything about.
He could call her on it, or he could pretend that her argument with Erik had simply gone over his head. For now, maybe it would be better to do the latter. Give her time to tell him herself. In the meantime, he could keep an eye on her, see if she was taking proper care of herself. Not that he knew what that looked like, but he could find out. The Internet was a godsend when it came to researching that kind of stuff. And the Serenity Library had computers he could use to do it. Old Mrs. Harrington, the most tightfisted widow ever to walk the earth, had shocked everyone by donating them.
At the memory of Dana Sue’s mother and the diabetes complications that had led to her death, Ronnie found his appetite had fled. When his meal came, it could’ve been sawdust. He ate it anyway. As proud as Dana Sue obviously was of the food at Sullivan’s, he didn’t want to even try explaining why he’d left so much as a bite on his plate.
Then, plastering a smile on his face, he risked poking his head in the kitchen. At first glance, he didn’t see Dana Sue, but Erik gestured silently toward the stove.
She had her back to him. She’d tied on an apron and was sautéing five different dishes at the same time, then serving them up onto plates that already had garnishes in place. She added a decorative swirl of sauce, then tapped a bell to call for a waiter.
She lined up three more orders in clips hanging just above her head, and started the process again. Her movements were efficient and fast, her concentration intense.
Ronnie slipped over to Erik. “Do you need her here?”
He shook his head. “Karen was handling that till Dana Sue came in. She’s just taking a break.”
“Good. I’m going to get her out of here. We need to go back to the hospital to see Annie.” Ronnie met the pastry chef’s troubled gaze and decided the time had come to attempt to make him an ally, rather than an enemy. “Did she eat?”
Erik seemed surprised by the question. “I talked her into having the meat loaf again.” He shrugged. “Comfort food usually works.”
Ronnie decided not to press the issue further, but he had a hunch that Erik knew he’d figured out what was going on with her.
“I won’t get her that upset again,” he promised in an undertone, then sighed. “Okay, I probably will, but I’ll keep her away from anything she shouldn’t eat.”
Erik’s gaze narrowed, but like Ronnie, he didn’t give anything away. Instead, he merely nodded. “I hope you stick to that.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Dana Sue’s voice cut through the noise around them. “Are you two planning to stop whispering anytime soon?” she demanded, her back still to them. “It’s getting on my nerves.”
Erik grinned. “Then by all means we’ll shut right up. If there’s one thing I hate in the kitchen, it’s an edgy woman with knives.”
She handed off the next batch of orders to Karen, then came to join them. “Something you might want to remember more often,” she told Erik, patting his cheek. Then she faced Ronnie. “Ready to go back to the hospital?”
“Sure. Are you?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Ronnie knew the feeling. Every time he thought about Annie’s uphill battle, it made him want to sit down and cry. Add in the battle Dana Sue was secretly waging, and he wondered if anything was going to be normal for any of them again.
D
ana Sue was relieved to find Annie surrounded by her friends when she and Ronnie got back to the hospital. It meant they could put off giving her the lecture Dr. McDaniels had suggested. Maybe having company—especially Ty, who was slumped down in a chair in a corner, watching Annie with a worried frown on his face—would even improve Annie’s mood enough that she’d be more receptive to whatever her parents said to her later.
Dana Sue glanced at Ronnie and noted that he looked just as relieved as she felt.
“We probably should kick them out so we can talk to her,” he said, not showing much enthusiasm.
“They’ll go soon enough,” Dana Sue said. “Besides, if we’re the ones responsible for making them leave, she’ll be too upset to want to hear anything we have to say.”
“Why are you two standing outside Annie’s door whispering?” Helen asked when she arrived a few minutes later.
“Strategy session,” Dana Sue told her.
“Oh?” Helen looked from her to Ronnie and back again. “Bad news?”
“Only if Annie doesn’t listen to what we have to say.” Ronnie’s expression was grim.
Alarm flared in Helen’s eyes. “Is she worse?”
Dana Sue slipped an arm around her waist. “No. It’s just what I was telling you about this morning at the spa. She’s still giving the psychologist a tough time.”
“Denial,” Helen said sagely. “Who amongst us hasn’t grappled with that from time to time?”
Dana Sue studied her and recognized the tension in her posture. She suspected not all of that came from concern for Annie. “Are you okay? Did you see Doc Marshall today?”
Helen frowned at the question, then cast a pointed look at Ronnie.
Dana Sue got the message. “Excuse us,” she said to her ex, then dragged Helen off toward the waiting room. The instant they were seated in a relatively secluded corner, she demanded, “Tell me what happened.”
Helen snapped open her briefcase and dragged out a prescription pill bottle. “These happened,” she said dully.
“Blood pressure pills?” Dana Sue guessed.
“Water pills,” Helen said, regarding them with disgust. “People don’t take water pills till they’re old. Who wants to spend the whole darn day running to the bathroom? Can you picture me stopping a trial every ten minutes to say, ‘Excuse me, Judge, but I need to use the restroom,
again
’? I’ll be the laughingstock of the courthouse.”
Dana Sue bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from chuckling. Obviously, to Helen this was more about aging than it was about admitting she needed to treat her blood pressure more aggressively.
“Your blood pressure’s not high because you’re old, for goodness’ sake,” Dana Sue said. “It’s high because you’re completely overwhelmed, you work too hard, you don’t exercise and eat right.” She gave her a hard look. “But you know all that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” her friend said impatiently. “I told Doc Marshall I was dealing with things. I showed him my goals, the very ones you and Maddie signed off on this morning. One day off every week. Aerobic exercise for one hour three days a week, weight training for two. Sign up for a meditation class. A healthy dinner at a regular time every night.
Yada-yada-yada.
There were ten goals on that paper. It was
notarized.
What more does he need?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Actually, he said it was too little too late,” Helen grumbled. “He said that my blood pressure was up from my last visit, and until I could come to him with a lower blood pressure reading and prove that I was achieving those goals, they were only words on a piece of paper.” She was all but quivering with indignation. “As if I’d lie about my intention to keep them.”
“You have before,” Dana Sue reminded her mildly.
Helen scowled at her. “Whose side are you on?” she snapped.
“Yours, always, but he has a point,” Dana Sue said, ignoring the irony of her being the one to voice support for the doctor’s firm stance. She certainly hadn’t listened to a word he’d told
her,
or more precisely, acted on his advice. “How long have you been making promises that you’d deal with this by exercising and eating properly?”
“I do exercise. I do eat properly,” Helen said, then winced under Dana Sue’s skeptical scrutiny. “Most of the time, anyway. Look at me. I don’t have an extra ounce of weight on me.”
“Because you work most of the time and get stressed over it when you’re
not
working,” Dana Sue said. “He’s not giving you those pills to insult you or quarrel with your intentions. Doc Marshall wants you healthy. That’s it.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to defend him if I were you,” Helen retorted. “He’ll probably come after you next.”
Helen’s prediction was definitely valid, which was one reason Dana Sue hadn’t scheduled an appointment with him. She didn’t want to face him and find out that she was one step closer to needing pills or insulin to regulate her blood sugar. She felt fine—most of the time, anyway. And when she remembered to check her blood sugar, the level wasn’t that bad.
Recognizing the rationalization for what it was, she winced. They were all pathetic, she concluded wearily. They’d rather ignore their problems than deal with them head-on. How could she come down hard on Annie when she was just as bad? Maybe denial was a natural state for her, but it was dangerous for Annie and just as risky for Helen. Right now Dana Sue needed to focus on them.
“Let me ask you something,” she said. “If a client comes to you with a problem, what do you do?”
“Give them the best advice I can,” Helen answered, looking confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Bear with me a minute,” Dana Sue said. “Do you expect them to take it?”
“Of course,” she stated, as if anything else was inconceivable.
“When you see Doc Marshall, you’re expecting him to give you his expert professional advice, right? You don’t want him just to tell you what you want to hear, any more than you’d tell one of your clients only what they want to hear.”
Helen’s frown deepened. “You’re starting to get all reasonable and obnoxious like Maddie,” she accused.
Dana Sue grinned. “I’ll regard that as a compliment.” She took the bottle of pills from Helen’s clenched fist. “‘One a day,’” she read. “Seems a small price to pay if it’ll help get your blood pressure in check.”
“It’s the principle,” Helen complained, clearly not yet ready to give in.
“No, it’s your stubborn pride,” Dana Sue corrected. “You don’t like admitting you need help. Just think how great you’ll feel the day you can toss these things in the trash forever.”
Helen sighed then and reached for the bottle. “Fine. I’ll take the damn pills, but don’t you come grumbling to me when he hands you medication for your diabetes. I’ll throw all this calm, logical crap right back in your face.”
Dana Sue laughed. “Feel free.”
Only after Helen had gone to stick her head in Annie’s room and say good-night did Dana Sue sink back on the uncomfortable plastic chair and sigh. She was such a fraud. When push came to shove and she was faced with a prescription proving that she couldn’t control her blood-sugar levels on her own, she was going to be just as impossible as Helen. Worse, even.
But just as she’d been there for Helen tonight, Helen and Maddie would be there to remind her of the goal—to stay alive and well.
Thinking of that reminded her that she and Ronnie needed to do that very same thing for Annie tonight. Pulling herself together, she marched down the hall, prepared to endure tears, anger or whatever else their daughter threw at them.
She found Ronnie alone in the room with Annie. They were playing checkers, which had been one of their favorite after-dinner pastimes since Annie had been old enough to understand the rules.
“She’s still beating the daylights out of me,” he said as Dana Sue pulled a chair up beside his.
Annie beamed. “I am, but I don’t think you’re really concentrating,” she said. She immediately jumped his remaining three men to win yet another game.
Ronnie sighed dramatically. “See what I mean?” He turned to Dana Sue. “She’s ruthless.”
“You taught her that, so don’t start complaining about it now,” Dana Sue said. When Annie started to set up the board for another game, Dana Sue stopped her. “Let’s put it away for tonight, sweetie. We need to talk.”
Annie’s expression turned wary. “About?”
“Your sessions with Dr. McDaniels,” Ronnie said.
Dana Sue gave him a grateful look, relieved that he wasn’t going to leave this whole conversation up to her.
Annie’s good mood vanished in a heartbeat. “I don’t need a shrink,” she said sullenly. “I don’t know why she keeps coming back. I’ve told her I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Dana Sue insisted. “Look where you are, sweetie. No girl your age winds up in the hospital with heart problems unless there’s something serious going on.”
“But I’m well now,” Annie argued. “I’ve been eating the stuff Lacy and I agreed to, except when it’s totally disgusting. And then I drink those stupid little shakes to make up for it. Ask her. She’ll tell you that she’s gotten my calorie count almost up to normal, or what passes for normal in her world. I feel great. Dr. Lane says I’m getting stronger every day. I bet he’ll let me out of here tomorrow or the next day.”
“It’s not entirely up to him,” Ronnie said, his tone unyielding. “And just so you know, he agrees with Dr. McDaniels that you can’t leave unless you start cooperating with her.”
“They’re sticking together?” Annie asked incredulously. “That sucks.”
“You should be grateful to them,” Ronnie said. “If you don’t get to the bottom of what happened, Annie, you’ll wind up right back in here again—and next time you might not be so lucky.”
Annie locked gazes with her dad and tears welled up in her eyes. “But I’m okay now, really. Please, Daddy, just take me home. This will never happen again. I swear it.”
Dana Sue saw the muscle working in Ronnie’s jaw and knew he was struggling with himself.
“Taking you home before Dr. McDaniels says it’s okay is not an option,” he said at last. “I don’t care how many tears you shed or how many promises you make. Until we know with absolute certainty that you’re not going to stop eating again, we can’t risk it, Annie.”
She looked stunned by his refusal. “You don’t get to come back here after abandoning me, and tell me what to do,” she said bitterly. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left, and you wouldn’t make me do this.”
Though he was visibly shaken by the accusation, Ronnie’s resolve didn’t waver. “Your mom and I
do
love you, more than anything on this earth. I think you know that. We don’t want to lose you, sweetie.”
“But I’m fine,” Annie protested, her voice rising. “Fine!” She leaped out of the bed. “Here, I’ll prove it,” she said, spinning around and dancing to some tune that was playing only in her head.
“Stop it right this second!” Dana Sue commanded. “Get back into bed.”
The no-nonsense tone brought Annie up short. Blinking back a fresh batch of tears, she sat on the edge. Dana Sue moved over to sit beside her. Thinking about what Ronnie had revealed earlier in the day, she asked, “I need to know the truth about something. Have you been eating the meals they’re bringing to you? Are you really consuming all those calories they think you are?”
“I’m not flushing anything down the toilet, if that’s what you’re asking,” Annie said defensively. “Somebody sits here to make sure of that.”
“That’s not exactly what I asked,” Dana Sue said gently. “Are you eating every bite?”
Annie avoided her gaze.
“Are you?” she persisted.
“It’s too much food,” Annie protested, but she looked ashamed.
“Have you eaten any of it?” Dana Sue said, not giving her an inch.
“Some,” Annie said.
“And the rest? Do you leave it on the tray so the nurses can decide if you’re following the rules? Before you answer, remember that I know just how sneaky you can be when you want someone to believe you’re eating properly.”
Annie’s chin set and she remained stubbornly silent.
“I didn’t think so,” Dana Sue said wearily.
“I told you, they watch me like a hawk,” Annie grumbled. “It’s not like I can get away with cheating. It’s no wonder I don’t have any appetite.”
Dana Sue wasn’t convinced she hadn’t found another way around the rules. “If you’re not flushing it down the toilet, what then? Are you hiding it somewhere till after they’re gone?”
She stood up and reached for the trash can, but before she could dig around in it, Annie began to cry in earnest.
“Mom, stop it,” she pleaded. “Not you, too. Doesn’t anybody trust me?”
Dana Sue found a napkin in the bottom of the trash with half a turkey sandwich wrapped in it. Her heart aching, she held up the damning evidence. “Baby, don’t you see, this is exactly why you need to talk to Dr. McDaniels. It’s barely been a week since you’ve been out of ICU and you’re already falling back into the same old pattern.”
“What about you?” Annie retorted, her tone scathing. “How many times have you pulled a pint of ice cream from the fridge since Dad came back to town? Talk about old patterns.”
Dana Sue felt heat climb into her cheeks. “Not the point,” she said, avoiding Ronnie’s gaze. “You’re the one in a crisis now, not me.”
“Your mother’s right,” he said, his voice surprisingly harsh. “And I don’t ever want to hear you speak to her that way again. Understood?”
Annie looked as if she wanted to lash out at both of them, but instead she nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said, her tone meek.
“Apology accepted.” Dana Sue brushed Annie’s hair back from her face. If she needed reminding of just how bad things were and why they were doing this, touching those brittle strands were enough to bring the point across.
“I’m tired,” Annie said, crawling back beneath the covers and turning away from them.
“Then we’ll let you get some rest,” Dana Sue said, exhausted herself. “Please think about what we’ve said. When Dr. McDaniels comes tomorrow, talk to her. She’s not the enemy. She’s on your side.”