When Dr. Rainey bustled into the room and approached Gramps' bed, Gia and Phoebe in tow, Ricky caught himself staring in appreciation. Hello, Dr. Marilyn Monroe. A remarkably well-endowed woman dressed all in black under her long lab coat, her lips a blood-red, and soft blonde curls framing her feminine features, the good doctor was not what he'd been expecting at all.
Unfortunately, Phoebe caught him staring, too. Arching an eyebrow at him, she chucked him under the chin, making his teeth clack together loudly enough for Gia to turn and cast him a curious look over her shoulder. Apparently, his mouth had been hanging open to boot. Phoebe just smiled and winked at him and then gave Gia a nudge in the shoulder.
"Keep a move on, Gia. I don't want to miss anything." They gathered close around the bed with the other Gustafson womenfolk to hear what the doctor had to say. It looked like it took some effort, but even Gia's grandfather kept his eyes open, his attention focused on the doctor. Ricky didn't blame him, not one bit.
Ricky had no reason to believe that Gia was the jealous type, but he didn't want to give her any reason to be, especially after the way he'd acted about Barista Boy last week. In fact, knowing Gia, the minute the Dr. Rainey left the room, she'd probably make some comment about how amazing the woman looked. But he wasn't stupid; he knew quite well that it had to be her pointing it out, not him.
He shifted forward in his chair and braced his elbows on his knees, watching the faces of the family he'd grown to love as much as—or even more than—his own over the years. He witnessed their relief as Dr. Rainey assured them that although Mr. Gustafson's lungs were not exactly clear, nor were they compromised enough to warrant putting him on intravenous antibiotics.
"If we start you on an IV course, you'll be stuck here for a minimum of 72 hours, possibly more," she explained. "But you, sir, need to rest, sleep, eat healthy food, drink lots of fluids, and get an inordinate amount of TLC from people who love you." She darted looks at the attentive faces gathered around the old man in the bed. "You'll only get a meager portion of that if I keep you here, you know. Ironically, hospitals are notorious for being the worst place to recuperate." She laughed softly, and Ricky found himself smiling along with the rest of the family. He liked her, and not just because she looked the way she did. Dr. Rainey really seemed to care what was best for Gramps. "Instead, I've ordered an antibiotic shot to get him started. The treatment might be considered unnecessarily aggressive if he only suffered from a mild case of pneumonia or only the laceration, but because he presents with both, because of his weakened immune system from having had pneumonia earlier this year, and the open wound having been caused by a dirty tool, I'm opting for aggression."
Slipping on a pair of gloves from a wall dispenser nearby, she gently peeled up one side of the gauze bandage they'd applied after suturing the wound in the ER. "They did a nice job," she said, before pressing the tape back in place. "I do, however, feel that it's necessary to keep you here tomorrow, just to make certain you're responding well to the antibiotics and to monitor you for any lingering symptoms of your concussion. Your CT scan came back looking good, but because of the way things happened, I think it's best to be extra cautious. Is that all right with you?" If he did as well as she expected him to, they'd release him on Saturday morning.
"Works for me," his wife answered for him. The four sisters nodded in agreement.
"However," Dr. Rainey said, turning to eye Granny G. "This good man must follow my instructions without exception or we'll most assuredly see him back in here in no time." She placed a hand on Gramps' shoulder and leveled her gaze at him. "Mr. Gustafson, I can tell you're the kind of man who doesn't go down easily. Which means that you probably did too much and then waited too long to ask for help. That can't happen again, okay?"
Dr. Rainey had him pegged to a T, Ricky thought.
Gramps reached up and patted the woman's hand. "Got it, doc."
"That means no strenuous activity, no gardening, no walking the dog, no climbing trees, no racing cars on the boulevard for at least a week, you understand?"
"No sexy time with Gran, Gramps," Phoebe interjected.
"Phoebe Gustafson!" her grandmother admonished, but Ricky thought he heard a hint of humor in the woman's voice.
"Ew, Phebes. Why do you always have to go there?" Ren asked from where she stood at the foot of the bed beside Juliette.
"She's right, though," Dr. Rainey agreed, not missing a beat. "Nothing that might require heavy breathing until your lungs are no longer threatening mutiny."
Ricky grinned at the woman's forthright mannerisms, because if he knew Gia's grandfather at all, the old man would appreciate the doctor's dry wit and blunt talk.
"All in all, I'm pleased to say I see no reason you shouldn't have a full recovery, Mr. Gustafson," Dr. Rainey concluded as she waved a hand to indicate the bandage covering the forehead injury. "You'll have a dashing scar, but other than that, I think you'll be just fine."
After the doctor cleared out, Eunice, the nurse assigned to him, showed up to get Gramps settled in for the duration. Juliette and Renata said their goodbyes, and after turning down Ricky's offer to walk them to their cars, they left to return to their own homes. Phoebe stayed behind to talk to the grandparents about what the next few days would look like for everyone, and Ricky leaned against the wall near the door, for some reason feeling a little like a third wheel.
"Will you need a ride home?" he asked Gia, who stood nearby looking like she, too, wasn't quite sure what her next move was. He wanted to help, but he really had no clue how. Sure, he'd felt the hero when he'd first arrived and Gia had cried on his shoulder, but now that Gramps was likely out of the woods and Gia's relief was evident, he couldn't avoid thinking about the talk they hadn't had. Other than her uncensored admission that she loved him—which, he acknowledged, she'd admitted under duress—their last real conversation had been brutal. He didn't want to just pick up where they'd left off. No, he wanted to take things in a new direction, which meant they really needed to have that talk. So now he found himself walking on eggshells again, and he hated it. This was Gia. George to his Fred. His Georgy Girl.
"No," she said, shaking her head contemplatively. "We drove in my car and I need it for tomorrow."
"Oh. Okay." He watched in silence as Eunice took Gramps' blood pressure and temperature. Then she handed him a menu and told him he could still order something for dinner if he was hungry.
"One of tonight's options was beef stew and biscuits," Eunice said. "And I can assure you that it's not your stereotypical hospital food. Everything is prepared from scratch in our own kitchen, and since you don't have any diet restrictions, I highly recommend it."
"You should eat, Henry," Granny G encouraged him.
The thought of food made Ricky's mouth water. He was starving.
"I'm starving," Gia whispered, as though reading his thoughts. "Do you want to go back down to the cafeteria and get something to eat?"
Ricky pushed off the wall, straightening with relief. "Absolutely." Turning to Granny G and Phoebe, he asked, "I'm taking Gia to get some food. Do you ladies want us to bring something back up for you?"
Phoebe declined, having just made plans to meet up with Trevor for a late dinner, but Granny G asked for a turkey sandwich.
As they made their way through the corridors, the awkwardness lingered. Ricky shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets, not sure if he should touch Gia now that the crisis with her grandfather had been averted. She seemed reserved, distant, and he couldn't quite figure out how to breach whatever had arisen between them.
"So are you going to work tomorrow, then?" he finally asked, and then wished he could suck the words back in. The last thing he wanted was for her to assume he'd been thinking about her work and the arguments they'd had.
"Yeah, I think I will, especially since Dr. Rainey said he's going to be okay and he needs to rest. If I take the day off to hang out with him, I'll probably drive him crazy. You know me; I can't sit still and be quiet to save my life."
He chuckled softly. It was true; as much as she loved her movies, she could hardly manage to make it through one without talking. They'd been asked to leave more than one movie in their downtown theater. "You going to head out after we eat, then?" He just assumed they'd get their meals to go and head back up to eat in the room.
"I'll probably hang out with Gran for a bit. I doubt she'll sleep here tonight, but I don't think she'll be ready to leave any time soon." She turned to him as they approached the entrance to the cafeteria. "I hope you'll stay and eat with us, Ricky, but you don't have to hang out after that."
Ricky nodded, trying not to take her obvious dismissal personally. "Sure. I've got some homework I need to finish, so I'll head out in a little bit."
Then, as though she sensed that she'd hurt his feelings, she reached over and tugged his hand from his pocket, lacing her fingers with his. "Come on," she murmured. "We have a turkey sandwich to deliver."
On their way back to the elevator, both of them laden with trays of food, Gia said, "I might see if Ricardo will let me leave once Brad gets there." She frowned and pushed the UP button with her elbow, then stood back to wait. She sighed. "It's just that Friday afternoon is always really busy."
Jupiter. Merely the thought of Barista Boy made his stomach lurch, but he cleared his throat and asked, "What about Jupiter? Could he fill in for you?"
Gia lifted startled eyes to his. "Oh! I hadn't even thought of Jupiter."
"The sweetest words I've ever heard," Ricky muttered, not caring if Gia heard him or not.
For a moment, she just stared at him, and then, for the first time all evening, she laughed out loud. It might have been the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, too.