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Galen was about to utter a reflexive retort but when he saw his friend's face he just smiled and beckoned him to sit on the edge of the bed. He spied a distinctive flush, raw hamburger, from the prominent pulsations of the old engineer's carotid arteries. He rose wordlessly, grabbed his black bag, and wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around Edison's left arm.

“Holy shit, little brother, how long's this been going on? Aren't you taking Crescenzi's prescriptions?”

“They ran out. 'Sides, I felt fine after we got out of the hospital.”

His blood pressure read 200 over 120—dangerously high. It was even higher than when he and Galen had been hospitalized after their injuries from the tornado four years earlier.

Galen went back to his bag. It always held what he needed and now was no exception. He selected a little bottle and shook a tiny, tangerine-colored pill into his hand. He motioned for Edison to open his mouth and he placed the pill on his tongue.

“Let that dissolve slowly. Let's see if that damn pressure comes down. If not, we've got an unscheduled trip to the hospital tonight.”

Edison lay back on Galen's bed and stared up at the bear-sized old man he had known for seven decades. Despite the countless jokes and insults exchanged over the years, he still held full confidence in his friend's skills.

Galen pulled his desk chair up to the bed then pumped the cuff up again.

Blood pressure was dropping. Now it was 140 over 90, still not good but a helluva lot better than before. Edison's face no longer looked like the Great Pumpkin's.

“Don't tell Nancy.”

“Don't tell me what?”

They saw her standing in the doorway.

“He's had a spike in his blood pressure. I just gave him something to lower it quickly. He needs to restart his meds. He also needs to have some tests done but I'd be afraid to risk driving tonight.”

She shook her head. He hadn't told her about stopping the pills.

“I'll call Lachlan. We can ride in his police cruiser.”

“You don't need to make a fuss over me, girl.”

“You keep quiet, Robert Cornelius Edison. You may be the greatest electronics wizard who ever lived, but sometimes…”

“But Nancy, it's the middle of the night.”

“I don't care. You're going—now!”

She turned and headed for the phone, hiding her tears.

 

He was back in the emergency room after his head scan, lying on a gurney cart in an examination room, the wireless EKG pasties dotting his chest.

The two doctors studied the digital image displayed on the large wall monitor.

“Sal, am I right? Hypertensive cardiomyopathy?”

Galen's eyes bored in on the cardiologist who had been his former student.

“Sure looks like it. Dr. Edison, I'm kicking myself for letting you go so long without a checkup.”

“Me too, Sal, me too. I let his disdain for quacks keep me from pressing him to see you or examining him myself.”

Galen endured Nancy's stare as she patted her husband's hand.

“His blood pressure's under control right now. Good thing you gave him that stuff. What was it you popped in his mouth?”

Galen leaned over and whispered in Crescenzi's ear. He shook his head and laughed.

“Really? Wow! Didn't think they made that any more. It sure worked, though.”

Edison stared at them.

“Speaking of quacks, what did he poison me with?”

“It's far from that, Dr. Edison. He saved your life.”

“Again,” Galen muttered.

“Dr. Edison, I'd like to schedule you for some more tests. Your preliminary lab looks okay but I think you need an echo stress test and maybe an MRI/Pet of your heart. I don't think we need to keep you here today but I'm going to have my secretary set up a time next week for you.

“In the meantime we'll all do our best to make sure you're taking your medication.”

Edison shot a look at Galen, and Galen understood.

Thanks, big brother
.

“Come on, you two. Lachlan's waiting at the Loading Doc to take us home.”

“Uh ... Dr. Galen, could I discuss another patient with you? Mrs. Edison, this won't take long.”

“I'll meet you at the car, guys,” Galen added.

He turned to Crescenzi as they headed down the hall, an orderly pushing Edison in the mandatory wheelchair to the exit.

“What's up, Sal?”

He was thinking that Crescenzi might want to talk about his partner Jim Galkis. Or maybe it was something about himself. But his younger friend's expression immediately dispelled those possibilities.

“Have you told them about the stents?”

Galen immediately flushed and shook his head. Only Sandy knew that the hand of God had clenched his chest the day of Lilly's miscarriage.

His mind flashed back to the night he lay on the cart in the cardiac cath lab, wearing a gown suitable only for someone half his size, as Sandy snickered behind her face mask.

He would never forget the local injection of anesthesia into his right groin to numb up the site where the large-bore needle would be stuck into his femoral artery. And even with the special, “twilight” sedation, he could recall the flexible catheter threading up and into his left anterior descending coronary artery—the “widow maker”—and the placing of the special tubes called stents to clear the blockage and maintain open blood flow to his heart.

“I'm doing fine, Sal. Like I told you, you're an artist when you work. I knew you would be.”

Crescenzi smiled and sighed.

“Very well, old friend. And what about Edison? Are you going to tell him about the head scan?”

Galen found a nearby chair and sat down. How could he tell Edison that the blood vessels inside his skull were acting like a time bomb waiting to explode?

He and Crescenzi had stared at the monitor, each sub-vocalizing a “holy shit” as he recognized the multiple, lethal mulberries stuck out from all of the major arteries in the old engineer's brain. Not just one aneurysm, one that could easily be repaired, but a horde of small balloons projecting outward, each unreachable, each a potential weakness that could burst at any time, especially if Edison's blood pressure stayed elevated.

“I can't do it, Sal. What good would it do? I want him and Nancy to have as full and active a life as we three have left.”

“Don't you mean four, Galen?”

“You noticed?”

“Hard not to.”

“Yeah, it's been kinda nice to have her around.”

“Well…?”

“We're all in our eighties now, Sal. We were all given a second chance at raising a family. How many people get that?”

He paused.

“Sal, don't take this the wrong way, but I almost wish you hadn't put those stents in me. You understand?”

The cardiologist, who was himself well into middle age, nodded.

“It's funny, Sal, the four of us—Nancy with her pacemaker, me with the heart stents, and now Edison with his brain aneurysms—it's almost like something's telling us to get everything in order.”

“And Sandy?”

“You didn't notice her hand and foot movements?”

“Parkinsonism?”

“I'll give you another A, Sal.

“Actually we've already made preparations. It was Nancy's idea, as always. I'd just like to see us make it to Tonio's graduation from medical school and maybe see the kids married. But at this stage it's a toss of the dice.”

Galen leaned forward to stand.

“I'd better not keep everybody waiting.”

He glanced at his watch.

“Geez! We've been here all night!”

Crescenzi took Galen's hands and helped him to his feet. They stood facing each other for a moment, former mentor and protégé, exchanging knowing looks. Then Galen turned and headed down the hall.

The cardiologist stared at the departing old man.

Go with God, old friend
.

 

AUNTIE EM! AUNTIE EM!

Nancy kept staring at Edison and shaking her head as they sat in the back of Lachlan Douglas's state police cruiser. Edison remained silent and sheepish.

Galen ambled out the ER entrance and climbed into the front passenger seat. With some difficulty he turned to look back at his friends.

“Sorry it took so long.”

“Maybe we should cancel holiday dinner,” Nancy huffed.

“I don't think that's necessary. It's probably better for Edison to eat turkey instead of being one.”

Lachlan chuckled.

“Mrs. Edison, I wouldn't miss one of your dinners even if Gabriel decided to blow his golden trumpet.”

Nancy sighed.

“All right, you've talked me into it. Besides, I've got just about everything ready.”

 

The police cruiser's powerful engine purred as Lachlan turned off the main road and headed up the long driveway. His keen eyes spotted the commotion soonest.

“Hey, you didn't tell me you were having a used car sale today,” he laughed.

His trio of passengers stared in amazement. Parked in front of their mountain home were three vehicles, and standing outside in the chilly November air were eight young men and women in fully animated conversation.

“They came!” Nancy exclaimed. “They came!”

She burst into a flood of cathartic tears and even Edison and Galen felt the blurring in their vision.

“Looks like you got your wish, Mrs. Edison,” Lachlan said. “I'll be back tomorrow with everyone, say about 3 o'clock?”

“Yes, Lachlan,” she replied, wiping her eyes. “That will be fine.”

As soon as the car stopped the crowd of young folk swarmed around it, helping the oldsters out.

The same sentence repeated itself in different voices.

“Where were you? Is everything okay?”

Edison moved slowly up the front steps.

“Come on, everyone. Get inside before you freeze your…”

Nancy cupped his mouth.

“Robert, I've had enough of that kind of talk.”

 

Eleven souls crowded into the living room after the fire had been stoked and replenished with wood, and the teacart brought out. Nancy had warmed up some butterscotch swirl pastries she had stored in the freezer and along with the chatter the sound of spoons stirring teacups filled the room.

Nancy took it in silently as long as she could.

“Why didn't you call?” she blurted out in exasperation.

The background noises stopped.

“Oh Tia,” Carmelita said, “it turns out we all wanted to surprise you.”

Nancy saw Lilly looking at her and a silent understanding of secrecy crossed between them.

“Okay, so I suppose that none of you wanted to come but figured somebody had to and by mistake you all showed up instead, right?”

Edison was grumpy. Normally he allowed Galen to play that role.

Eight young voices shouted out, “no!”

Edison smiled and cleared his throat.

“Folks, we're going to have to figure out the sleeping arrangements. Good thing we've got a spare room or two.

“Freddie, you and Mike can bunk in your room. Tonio, you've got JP. Carm and Lilly in Carm's room. That leaves Judy and Sarah in the spare guest room and...”

“Uh ... dear, I think the youngsters can work this out on their own,” Nancy interjected after seeing the amused reactions around the room. Edison harrumphed and bit his lip.

“Dr. Galen, have you heard from Grandma?” Sarah asked.

“No, he hasn't, but he will now.”

As the elfin woman closed the front door behind her, Galen rushed to embrace her. He was beaming as he led her into the living room and raised a hand for quiet.

“Point of order, ladies and gentlemen. Fortunately our resident wizard had three bathrooms put into our magnificent home, one for the master and mistress of the house and two others. One of them's mine. Now I don't mind sharing it in an emergency, but if you see me coming, better step aside.”

At that, Nancy, Edison and Sandy called out in unison, “A lot of men didn't, a lot of men died.”

Galen grinned and joined in.

“Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company sto'!”

Eight otherwise bright and cultured young adults stared at the four laughing geriatrics.

Mike turned to Carmelita.

“What's Spanish for ‘crazy old coots?'”