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Charley threw herself into her Friday morning workout with a vengeance that was rare even for her. Normally the most enthusiastic of the five women, today she was a gale-force wind in comparison to their gentle breezes. For every single move Mac led the others in, Charley squeezed in two. After several snarky remarks from her friends and disapproving looks from Mac, they ignored her, eventually rearranging themselves in front of Charley so her frenetic moves wouldn’t interfere with their more moderate tempo. They’d obviously decided that if Charley wanted to kill herself, the top floor of Soeurs was as good a place as any.
At the end of the hour, exhausted and unable to stand, Charley collapsed on the mat. Drenched in sweat, she closed her eyes and sucked air into her lungs in deep draughts. A drop of something cold splatted between her eyes and rolled into her hair.
“Drink this.”
Charley opened one eye and saw Mac standing over her holding out a dripping bottle of water. She closed the eye. “I would if I could lift my arm.”
“If you dumped it on her head, I bet she’d move,” Jesse said.
“Shush,” Mac said.
Charley heard the snap of the cap being twisted and felt the mat shift before the cold bottle was placed in her hand. “Do you need help to sit up?”
Careful of the open bottle, Charley groaned and pushed herself upright. “Thanks, Mac.”
“Are you OK?”
Charley nodded and assuaged her parched throat with the icy water.
“Good. Then you won’t mind telling us”—the solicitous tone vanished from Mac’s voice as her eyes narrowed—“just what in blue blazes that was all about.”
Her workout buddies snickered. “What she said,” Randy agreed.
“And you can start with that impressive shiner,” Syd said.
“Yeah.” Alex settled on the mat next to Charley. “Because the last time we talked to you, you were on your way to meet Melissa.” She leaned forward to get a better look. “If she punched you, that must have been one interesting conversation.”
Charley drained the bottle and took her time screwing the lid back on. She could walk out the door, leave them and their questions behind, but part of her ached for the support these women offered. She reached up and brushed a finger across the colorful bruise that fanned across her cheekbone. “This is actually the end of the story. At least the last two days of it.”
She took them through it, beginning with her lunch with Melissa and the devastating news her old friend had shared. When Alex began to weep, Charley put her story on hold while Mac hunted up some tissues.
“Sorry,” Alex said once she’d composed herself. “That’s so hard to hear, even after all this time. I need to go see her. I need...” She sniffed.
Charley squeezed her hand. “She gave me her phone number. I’ll make sure you have it.”
Alex nodded. “Thanks. Go on.”
Charley finished the story with her preoccupied encounter with the fleeing thug. “I stepped out of the car, closed the door, and turned to go into Ground Zero. He ran over me like a stampeding moose. We were nothing but a heap of tangled arms and legs. I didn’t know he was a suspect, but he was swinging at me, and when he landed one on my cheek”—she held up her scuffed knuckles—“I was more than happy to return the favor. I had him cuffed before the pursuing officers got there.” Charley looked at the mat. “Still earned me a week of medical leave and a good dressing down.”
“If you’re that distracted, that’s probably not a bad thing,” Mac said.
“Yeah, that’s what Chief Black said, among other things.”
Alex rubbed her arm. “Poor Charley.”
“What happens next?” Syd asked.
“We go to the doctor today. I’m trying to stay positive, but...” Charley bit her lip and let her tear-filled eyes move from one friend to another. “What if Kinsley has this thing? I can’t even wrap my mind around the possibility.” She swallowed hard. “And I know that no matter how today turns out, we have a serious conversation coming up with her. Jason and I agree.” Him more than me, her rebellious heart inserted. “She deserves the truth while there’s time to know Melissa. Will you guys pray with me?”
“Oh honey, you don’t even have to ask,” Randy said. Once the friends were linked hand-to-hand, she led them in prayer. “Jesus, thank You because You have already heard the prayer of our hearts. You bore stripes for our healing, and we’re clinging to that knowledge today. We’re asking You to step into this situation. Please bring calm to Charley’s spirit and health to Kinsley’s body. Lord, direct Charley and Jason with Your divine wisdom in the days ahead. And touch Melissa as well. Give her the strength she needs to fight this disease. Father, we ask these things in the name of Your Son.”
As amens dwindled around her, Charley sat in the cocoon of comfort generated by her friends and their prayers. She added a silent, Please, Father, before she wiped her face and stood. “Thanks. I need to get home and make sure Kinsley is getting ready to go.”
***
KEITH PACED THE FLOOR while Melissa tossed and turned in the bed in the next room. It wasn’t the first time she’d been uncomfortable the morning before a dialysis session. The two-day buildup of toxins in her body could provoke all sorts of side effects. But she had a fever this morning too. Not the first time for that either. Her immune system was out of whack. Add to that the stress of confronting her old friend and the long drive there and back...
He stopped to listen. The soft rustle of the sheets, the whispered groans had ceased. For a moment he was grateful that she finally slept. But...what if...? Keith bit his lip and tiptoed to the door. He stood there, his own breath held until he saw the slight rise and fall of Melissa’s rib cage.
Keith swung away from the door, relief and frustration twisting his gut in equal measure. He pounded a fist into his hand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was the man. He was the fixer. He was helpless. His hand shook when he ran it through his hair. Watching her suffer would kill him before this confounded disease took her. There had to be something he could do.
Kinsley Hubbard was the best hope Melissa had right now, but Melissa seemed to be blocking him at every juncture. Well, not really blocking him, just...bringing a religion he didn’t understand into the situation as an excuse to drag her feet. Another moan of pain sounded from the bedroom, and he cringed. There wasn’t time for foot-dragging and fruitless prayer.
At a loss for ideas, Keith went to the kitchen and ladled up some of the soup he’d fixed for Melissa. He added a sandwich and a handful of chips and carried his lunch to the living room. He glanced at the blank TV, but discarded the idea. He didn’t want to chance the noise disturbing Melissa’s already restless sleep. But, I need something to take my mind off this mess.
His gaze settled on his laptop. He still had a day off before he needed to worry with work, but he hadn’t checked his email or his Facebook account in a few days. Talk about mindless entertainment. Keith put his plate on the coffee table and opened the computer. One hundred messages awaited his attention in his personal inbox. After deleting ninety-eight of those without even opening the text, he answered the remaining two and then paged over to Facebook.
The first thing he noticed there was the little red ten on top of the friend-request icon. He dropped the list down and shook his head. All women he didn’t know. He opened the first profile and took a look at any relationships they might share and wasn’t surprised to find none. In fact, the woman had a total of two other friends listed, both guys. He hit the delete option and marked it as spam.
The action was repeated nine times as he went through the list. He chewed the last bite of his sandwich. Where did these people come from, and did they really expect him to welcome their advances with open arms? He wasn’t some foolish teenager...
Keith sat back and let the small thread of an idea wiggle into reality. Once it solidified, he turned it this way and that, weighing options and the probability of success, working out the details in his mind. The plan had no downside.
He closed the computer and stood to collect his plate. He needed to go to Walmart. Leaving without telling Melissa wasn’t his first choice, but if she were awake, she’d have questions he didn’t want to answer. Keith crept into the bedroom and watched his wife sleep. She was comfortable for the time being, and he’d only be gone an hour or so. He dashed off a note and left it propped on the lamp by her bedside.
He finally had a plan, and it was time to get busy. Maybe there was more than one way to skin a cat.
***
CHARLEY AND KINSLEY sat in the waiting area of Dr. Gibson’s office. Kinsley played on her phone while Charley chewed a third fingernail to the quick. She glanced at her daughter from under her lashes. Kinsley flipped through pages on the small screen, her expression a little bored, her demeanor devoid of any of the agitation plaguing Charley.
How does she do that? She and Jason had told Kinsley not to worry, and she seemed to be taking them at their word. Charley wished she could be so calm. Her teeth met flesh, and she jerked her finger from her mouth. She examined the damage for a second before starting on nail number four. Let Kinsley be calm. Charley was nervous enough for the both of them.
As promised, the tests had been simple, fast, and painless. Waiting to speak with the doctor, however...
“Mrs. Hubbard.”
Charley jerked her head up. The woman who’d introduced herself as Dr. Gibson’s nurse motioned from the doorway.
“If you and your daughter will follow me, the doctor will join you in his office in just a few moments.”
Charley stood, but Kinsley remained in her seat. “Kinsley?”
Her daughter focused on her screen. “One second...and...done!”
Charley shook her head and put Kinsley between herself and the nurse. “What’s so important?”
“Just Instagram. I had a couple of new followers. I deleted one, but I was checking to see who the other might be. I don’t know her, but she’s friends with Emma and Angela.”
Charley shook her head. Kinsley’s life could be changing in the next five minutes, but heaven forbid her Instagram friends should wait for a response. The nurse led them to a spacious office and indicated the seats on the visitor side of the desk.
“Have a seat. Dr. Gibson will be in just as soon as he finishes with his patient.”
“Right behind you,” the doctor said.
The nurse jumped, gave him a look that indicated her longsuffering, and vacated the doorway.
Dr. Emmett Gibson angled a wry smile at his nurse as she retreated. “She hates it when I do that.” He continued around his desk and slid his six-foot-plus frame into the chair.
The man was all sharp angles, from his pointed chin and nose to the knobby elbows and knees that his dress slacks and lab coat failed to disguise. When he walked, his upper body leaned just a tad bit forward while his legs shuffled to keep up with the rest of him. He reminded Charley a little of a giraffe. The only soft thing about him seemed to be his gray eyes. When Charley looked at him, those eyes held hers with a compassion and wisdom that she’d trusted immediately.
Once settled, he pulled a file closer and perched a pair of rimless glasses on his nose. Before he opened the file, he looked at Kinsley. “We haven’t treated you too badly today, have we?”
Kinsley shook her head. “Not really. The ultrasound was actually sort of awesome.” She glanced down and smoothed her shirt over her stomach. “Way cool to get to see what’s in there.”
“Good.” Dr. Gibson opened the folder and studied the contents for a few seconds.
While he sorted through the paperwork, Charley fidgeted. Can we just get this over with? Kinsley might be taking the afternoon in stride, but the last two hours had been the longest of Charley’s life. She studied him as he read, looking for some hint about the news he was about to share, but his expression was unreadable.
He finally nodded, closed the folder, and leaned forward on his boney elbows. “The ultrasound was completely clear of any evidence of polycystic kidney disease.”
Relief whooshed from Charley in a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”
“That’s good news, but given the severity of her moth—”
“Great-great-grandmother.” The words cut across the doctor’s blunder loud and shrill. What he’d almost said seemed to suck the breathable air from the room. Lightheaded and queasy, Charley looked at him with silent pleading.
Dr. Gibson frowned across the desk before bending his head back over the paperwork. He flipped through a few pages, sat straighter, and scratched the side of his face. “Given the severity of the disease exhibited by her...great-great-grandmother, I’m not comfortable giving Kinsley a clean bill of health until we get all the blood work back. That’ll take about a week.”
Charley scrambled to her feet. “Do we need to make another appointment?”
“We’ll call you with the results and work from there.”
“That’s wonderful. You guys have been amazing today, and we can’t thank you enough.” The words tripped over each other in her rush to get Kinsley out of the office. Charley forced herself to breathe and slow the spew of words. She placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I need ice cream, girlfriend. How about you?”
Kinsley pulled away. “You OK?”
The breath she drew in was ragged. “I’m fine, baby. I’m just...relieved that the news is good. I know I told you not to worry...but I’m a mom. It’s what we do.” She didn’t wait for any words of dismissal from the doctor or agreement from Kinsley. Charley ushered her daughter out of the office and into the waiting area. She hoped her daughter didn’t notice the way her hands trembled as she wrote the check for the office visit.