Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Just wonderful.
May finished wiping down the examination room when Nancy poked her head through the door. She wore a light blue dress covered in tiny flowers and a new shade of pink lipstick that brightened her face.
“I finished all the billing. Do you mind if I take off?” Nancy asked. She and her husband had a date tonight, and she’d been humming all day.
“No, it’s almost dinner time. I hope you have a wonderful date.”
Nancy grinned. “I’m so excited to have a babysitter.” She smoothed her dress. “We haven’t been out in forever.”
May almost teased her about not coming home with a fifth son, but she kept it to herself. The Phylets made adorable boys. Maybe they wanted a houseful.
Nancy looked around, sobering. “I’m sorry to be happy. I’m still sad.”
“We’re all sad about Ivy, but you deserve happiness.” May smiled at her friend. “I heard from Ivy’s parents, and they’re having the funeral the week after next. They’re supposed to call when plans are finalized. I’m thinking about flying down to Washington state. Do you want to go? It’s on me.”
Nancy nodded, her dark hair brushing her face. “Yes. I would love to go.”
May needed to check on tickets as soon as she had the dates. “I’m inviting Lance too.” Who knew. Maybe by then Ace would feel steady enough to fly again. She doubted he would want to go that far in a plane right now. If ever. “For now, go on a date with your husband.”
“See you tomorrow. I’ll lock the front door on my way out.” Nancy grabbed her purse and headed down the hall.
The clinic went quiet after the front door shut. Lance was still working at the football camp, and without his usual footsteps and music drifting from the back room, the place felt too still. May missed Ivy even more when the quiet descended.
Now alone, May tossed the damp paper towels into the trash and headed back to her office. She sat at her desk and pulled a file toward her, trying to focus on chart notes and medication adjustments.
A noise carried from the front waiting room.
“Nancy?” she called as she stepped into the hallway and hurried toward the reception area.
“No, it’s me. Jack.” He stood in the waiting room under the overhead lights, wearing torn shorts and a worn, gray T-shirt. His blond hair stuck up in uneven spikes, and his knuckles were split and swelling. Blood streaked across the back of his hand and down his fingers. “Sorry, Doc. The front door was locked. I came in through the hospital side.”
She glanced at the connecting door. “That’s fine.”
Up close, his eyes looked darker than usual. Not angry. Broken.
“What did you do to your hand?” she asked.
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away with his uninjured hand as if annoyed with himself. “I hit a wall. Like eight times.”
Was this about Ivy? May stepped toward him. “All right. I might need to do an X-ray. Come this way.”
He followed her into Exam Room Two and dropped onto the table. The paper crinkled under his weight. His shoulders were shaking, and this time it wasn’t from pain. “It’s my fault,” he said, voice breaking. “It’s totally my fault.”
May shut the door and stepped closer. “Let me see your hand.”
His knuckles were swelling fast across the third and fourth metacarpals. The skin was split in two places, and tiny flecks of wood chips and paint were embedded in the raw tissue. Blood had dried in uneven streaks down his fingers.
“It looks like you’ve got debris in there. I’ll need to clean it out. I’m going to numb it first,” she said.
“Why did this have to happen? Ivy was so beautiful.” He sniffed.
May pulled open a sterile tray and drew up lidocaine into a syringe. The smell of whiskey hit her again, strong and rich. “How much have you had to drink?”
“The whole bottle,” he slurred. “And it’s still not enough. It still hurts. She was funny and beautiful and kind. I think she was the one.”
“I’m sorry.” May positioned his hand and injected small amounts of anesthetic around the base of his fingers, creating a field block along the knuckles. He flinched once, then sagged as the medication started working.
“Give that a minute.” She irrigated the wounds with sterile saline, flushing out blood and grit into a basin. Tiny stones washed free. With fine forceps, she removed what remained, careful not to push anything deeper.
“Don’t you get it?” he said hoarsely. “Without me, she’d be alive. I should’ve saved her.”
“Jack,” May said evenly, “you were fishing all night with the senator miles away from here. Along with Peter, Lance, and Dirk Fredrickson. You had no way of knowing Ivy was in danger.”
“You don’t understand.” He sniffed hard. “We would’ve had such a good future. She was a nurse. She would’ve made a great political wife.”