“You popping pills again, darlin’?”
Mary visibly jumped, and whirled around, small brown tablets spilling onto the counter and floor.
She put a hand to her chest, and the other on her hip. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
Grant moved forward and knelt down, picking the tablets off the floor. He dumped them into Mary’s outstretched hand. “Why so jumpy? Headache?”
“Just ache.”
He crossed his arms. “You need to call your doctor.”
She picked up the cup of water and a tablet. “That’s what Dana said. And I’m going to, but come on, you know as well as I do, the doctor is going to tell me to take a pain pill, or get a cortisone shot. She’s the one who told me to start carrying Tylenol in my purse when I hit fifty, remember?”
Grant smiled. He remembered how offended Mary had been by the cavalier advice. Seeing her now, it was hard to believe she’d passed that milestone seven years ago. She was still beautiful and youthful. She’d been every bit as stunning as their daughters at the wedding.
Looking closer at her eyes, she appeared a little tired, he supposed. No surprise there. An event like that was a huge undertaking. He ran his hands along her arms. “Hey, did I tell you how beautiful you looked Saturday?”
Cocking her head, she smiled up at him, her eyes brightening. And his chest thumped. The way it always did for Mary.
“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t mind a little repetition.”
“You going to be ready to get out of here on Friday?”
“Absolutely. Can’t wait. Pretty sure they’ve got a lounge chair by the pool with my name on it.”
“I guarantee it.” Grant kneaded her shoulders while they spoke.
“By the way, I’m going to call the hotel and see if I can get an appointment at the spa. I think I’ve earned about a three-hour massage. Care to join me?”
“Nah. You schedule that, and I’ll see if I can get a tee time about then.” He stepped back and leaned against the counter. “What do we need to do before we go?”
Mary let out a long sigh. “Mostly laundry and packing. The house is in good shape, thanks to Rita.”
“Why can’t Rita do the laundry?”
Mary’s eyes widened. “That’s not her job. I’ve never–”
“Might be time to ask,” Grant cut in. “All the aches and pains? Maybe you’re doing too much. Tell you what, you get things sorted, and I’ll haul it down here.”
“Not much to sort. It’s mostly sheets and towels. The good thing is we won’t need any of the clothes we’ve been wearing around here. I’m packing crop pants, summer dresses, and sandals. I cannot wait to get out of these boots.”
“That should make packing easier. Listen, I’m going to take my truck in for an oil change. I’ll deal with laundry when I get back. How’s that?”
“Sure. Maybe I’ll toss a few things in a suitcase.”
The oil change took longer than he expected, and when Grant returned home an hour and a half later, he climbed the stairs to get a load of towels, but it looked as though none of the kids’ bathrooms had been touched. Back downstairs, he found Mary asleep in their bed. Quietly, he peeked inside the bathroom and their walk-in closet. No piles of laundry, and no luggage.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the figure on the bed, wondering if he should be worried. At what point did headaches and backaches and being tired add up to more than the stress of a busy schedule? And now that he thought more about their earlier conversation, what made Dana suggest that Mary call her doctor? Had she noticed something?
He had half a mind to lie down beside her, and pull her close, but that would disrupt her sleep, which she obviously needed. Hell, she’d earned it – a nap every day this week, and some time in that lounge chair in Phoenix.
If that didn’t revive her energy level, they might have to talk about that doctor’s visit. He wanted her healthy. Wanted her beside him to get away and enjoy retirement. With their kids grown and out of the house, it was their time.
Stepping as softly as he could, Grant turned back to the bathroom and began gathering towels from the racks. He couldn’t explain why wanderlust had taken hold of him over the past couple of years, why he felt such an urge to get out of Whitfield and explore the world. Age probably had something to do with it. And the fact that he’d lived his entire life in the small town. But then, so had Mary. Yet, she seemed perfectly content with life in Whitfield and only an occasional girls’ trip or vacation. He knew she liked having the flexibility and means to pick up and go if she wanted to, though.
He snatched up towels from the other bathrooms, then made his way back downstairs, dumping his load into an empty basket. If there was a positive outcome from the Essex mess, maybe it was to encourage Mary to pull back from civic duties and all the volunteer projects and get out of town more often. It just might be the spark that made her jump on board and let go for a while. He hoped so.
* * *
On Wednesday morning, Mary sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed, testing her foot against the carpeting before pushing herself up. She let out a long sigh. Yes, the fact that she’d gone to testing the foot before putting any weight on it was a sign that she should have a chat with her doctor. It wasn’t normal.
And it was a nuisance. Dr. Bates had no openings this week in Whitfield, so Mary would have to make the drive over to Paxton if she wanted to get in before leaving for Phoenix on Friday. She didn’t want to go see her doctor at all but figured she might as well get it over with. She said a quick prayer that she’d end up with a prescription for a pill and a couple of exercises, then showered and dressed before heading downstairs for coffee.
Grant had left a note on the table telling her that he’d be gone until mid-afternoon. That was fine because she hadn’t mentioned the appointment to him. Didn’t need more questions she didn’t have answers to.
Halfway into the drive, she regretted taking the Paxton appointment. Her head felt foggy, and she had to force her eyes to stay open. She slipped her sunglasses on to help ward off the cloudy glare and pumped her foot back and forth to ward off any numbness.
She fought a sudden wave of panic as the absurdity of the situation hit her. Clearly, something was not right. Uneasiness settled in her stomach as she walked slowly into the medical building. What had Dana said? Bloodwork. Request a full workup. The timing was good at least. Mary would be basking in the sun poolside not sitting around the house waiting for lab results. That thought cheered her, and she greeted the receptionist with a smile.
“Please have a seat, and we’ll call you soon,” the woman at the desk told her.
Mary settled into a floral-printed armchair and picked at the selection of magazines on the table in front of her. Many of them featured young pregnant women, while others touted fabulous flat abs and what looked like body builders to her. Ugh. She reached for the one with an attractive woman sporting stylish silver hair and more than a few laugh lines.
But only moments later, she found herself re-reading the same paragraph. Unable to concentrate, Mary tossed the magazine onto the table and simply waited until the door opened and a nurse called her name.
Inside the small examination room, Mary traded her warm sweater for a flimsy cotton wrap. The nurse checked Mary’s weight and blood pressure and asked a few standard questions. The questions got tougher when Dr. Bates arrived.
“How long have you experienced this numbness?” She asked when Mary described her symptoms.
“Oh, a few months, I guess.”
“The headaches?”
“About the same, I suppose.”
“Do they come at a certain time of day?”
Mary thought a moment but couldn’t come up with specifics. “They develop through the day.”
“How many Advil a day?”
“A couple.”
Nodding, Dr. Bates studied her. “The pain in your joints. Tell me more about that. Is it constant? Does it come and go? Is it worse when you’re active or after you’ve rested?”
“Seems pretty constant these days.”
“Describe the pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst you could stand.”
Mary shook her head. “It’s just a dull ache. I’d have to say one or two. Nothing severe.”
“Okay. That’s good. We can manage that with over-the-counter meds for now.”
“But–”
Dr. Bates raised her brows. “What?”
“Sometimes I’m so achy that I feel like curling up in a ball. I’m not in pain, but sore or maybe cramped. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. What about sleep?”
Mary squirmed. “I’m sleeping fine, I guess. But…”
“Yes?”
“Well, the thing is, it seems like I’m sleeping, but I still feel tired. By noon I’m already looking forward to a nap.”
“Okay, so fatigue, and you mentioned some stress. Those could be related.”
The doctor made some notes on her keyboard. When she looked up, intense eyes met Mary’s.
“Listen Mary, I don’t want to scare you, but I do want to take this seriously. Let’s do some tests and get some lab work done.”
“The fact that you say that doesn’t exactly reassure me,” Mary told her doctor. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything that gives us a clue. Let’s do a complete workup. It’s been a few years since you had a routine profile done.”
“Uh-huh, but this isn’t routine, right?”
“Well, obviously something is going on or you wouldn’t be here. Let’s check it out. We’ll look at your overall health, your blood sugar and cholesterol, thyroid and liver function, and hormone levels.”
Mary heaved a sigh.
“I will say this thing with your foot bothers me, especially since you’ve had no accident to account for it. That kind of numbness isn’t normal, and would indicate a neurological connection and can sometimes,” she gave Mary a pointed look, “sometimes be a sign of a serious condition.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not about to speculate without some more information.”
“You know if you don’t tell me, I can always do some online research.”
“Mary, that’s a really bad idea. Try to be patient and–”
“No sugar coating. Tell me what kinds of things.”
“If I do, will you promise to wait until we get labs done before you start trying to diagnose online?”
“I promise.”
Her doctor heaved a great sigh. “Lots of conditions have similar symptoms. There’s fibromyalgia, Lyme disease, a blood clot or even ALS or MS.”
“ALS?” Mary gasped as her heart fluttered. She couldn’t possibly–
“Mary,” Dr. Bates warned. “Relax. I am not saying you have ALS. In fact, that’s a very uncommon diagnosis. But something is going on, and it’s important that we figure out what it is.”
Mary swallowed hard, the first real inkling of concern taking root as she watched Dr. Bates tap furiously into her keyboard.
She moistened her lips. “Can everything be done here?”
“Not in the office. I’m sending you over to the lab at the hospital. They’ll draw the blood samples and send a report in a few days. In the meantime, I want you to start keeping a journal. Write down how you feel in the mornings, how well you slept and for how long. Note whenever you have a headache or feel any numbness or tingling sensations. Record anything that doesn’t feel normal. It’ll help us track frequency and we’ll see if there are any patterns.”
“Hmm. How I spent my winter vacation. This sounds an awful lot like homework, Doc.” Mary scowled and wiped clammy hands across her cotton cover-up.
“It is. And I’m a stickler for detail. And like a teacher, I’ve heard every excuse in the book. Don’t blow it off.”
All right, already.
Standing, Dr. Bates closed her laptop. “I’ll be right back. I want to get you some papers.”
Papers? Mary had no idea what that meant. She nodded and pulled a magazine from the rack on the wall of the examination room. None of the headlines or stories caught her attention, though. All she could think about was whether her body was turning against her. She didn’t have time to be sick. There was too much to do. In her mind, that poolside lounge chair beckoned once again. As did her empty suitcase.
Dr. Bates breezed back into the room and shoved several pieces of paper Mary’s direction. “Here you go. This is the lab order. They’re expecting you. These illustrate some exercises I want you to start. Some are for tension in your head and neck, and there’s one for strengthening that might help with your feet.”
More homework. Mary glanced at the papers but couldn’t help wondering if it made sense to start a program before they even knew what they were dealing with.
“Regardless of what the lab results show, these will be good for you,” Dr. Bates added, as though reading Mary’s mind.
Resigned, Mary blew out a breath. “Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
After the lab technician drained five vials of blood from her arm, Mary trudged across the hospital parking lot and sank into her car. Drained, period. But not finished with the errands she needed to do in Paxton. She wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to run by Annie’s new place and leave a little surprise for their return from their honeymoon.
She’d strung tiny white lights around a three-foot, potted Alberta Spruce. Normally, it’d be no big deal, but now she wondered if she’d have the strength to haul it out of her car and up the steps to their porch. She guzzled the bottle of water the nurse had given her, hoping it’d revive her, and fast. Leaning against the headrest, she closed her eyes.
Startled, Mary lurched upright, and looked around. Someone knocked on the window beside her. Blinking, she fought to clear her head. She turned the key in the ignition and let the window down about half-way.
“Are you all right?” a young woman carrying a toddler peered in at her.
“Excuse me?”
The woman put a hand to her chest. “Sorry to bother you. I just– I saw you sitting here and thought you might need some help. I was afraid you were having a heart attack or something.”
Mary glanced at the clock illuminated on the dashboard. Oh. She’d fallen asleep in her car. Running a hand through her hair, she smiled at the stranger. “Oh, no. I’m fine. Thanks for checking, though. I was kind of tired after my appointment.” After they bled me dry.
“All right, then. You take care.”
Mary gave a little wave. “Thanks, again.” Oh, brother. Thank goodness the woman had knocked before flagging down an ambulance and causing a scene. Time to get moving. She started the car and drove the short distance to Annie’s house, determined to wrestle the potted tree onto the porch. At least the hatchback design allowed for easy grabbing without bending over. Opening the back, she scooted the pot up against her hip, then lifted it. Please do not give out on me now, she implored all her limbs.
On step number three, she eased herself down to a sitting position so that the pot was almost level with the floor of the porch. Gingerly, she leaned out, gave a little shove, then let go of the pot. It remained upright, and Mary sagged against the stair rail. So far, so good. She glanced around, hoping none of Annie’s neighbors were watching. After another moment’s rest, she climbed the remaining stairs, and dragged the pot into place by the front door. Whew! Mission accomplished.
Back in her car, she gulped a couple of swallows of water. She didn’t want to arrive home looking as if she’d walked to Paxton and back – and have Grant worry that they should postpone their trip until the test results were in. She was about to start the car when her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her purse and looked at the screen. Her stomach fluttered. A new Snapchat from Sara. Good news?
Two more taps to the screen and a full-length image of Sara appeared. Besides a huge smile, she wore a long, copper-colored jacket with large black buttons up the front. It was paired with black leggings and dressy black pumps. She looked stunning. Definite management material, Mary thought, smiling as the final two seconds of the image played then disappeared.
She set the water bottle in the cup holder and tapped Sara’s number. “Wow, Sarie. Model much?” Mary said when Sara picked up.
“You like?” Sara asked.
“Oh, sweetheart, that jacket is gorgeous. You’re a knockout. Was this before or after your interview?”
“Before. I’m getting ready to head out now. I love the jacket. I think it looks arty and professional at the same time, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, and the color is perfect. Great choice.” She decided not to state the obvious and comment on the fact that it also perfectly disguised her expanding mid-section. “How’d the meeting with the headhunter go?”
“It was okay, but I think I’ll contact a few more. These people weren’t real positive.”
“Hmm. About you or the market?” Mama bear instinct flared instantly.
“Both, honestly. They kept telling me how I’m competing in a tough market with a bunch of people who have MBAs.”
“Oh. That’s interesting.”
“They weren’t a good fit for me, anyway, Mom. Who knows, I may not even need them. I think I’d really like this job I’m going for today. It’s a small up-and-coming agency.”
Small made Mary wonder about benefits. Sometimes smaller companies offered fewer benefits at a higher price than a big firm. But she heard the ever-present optimism in Sara’s voice and wasn’t about to say anything discouraging. “They should hire you on the spot,” she said. “You look like you could be interviewing for a seat on the board.”
Sara’s light laughter rang out. “Aw, thanks, Mom. But I’ll settle for assistant manager or team leader.”
“I have complete confidence. Now remember, Dad and I are leaving for Phoenix on Friday, but I still want updates.”
“Well, I won’t bother you unless something really exciting happens.”
“You won’t be bothering me. The only two things on my agenda are a massage and chilling by the pool. I could actually get bored.”
With a little luck, they could stick to that agenda.