*
A chorus of familiar, hushed voices roused me from sleep. “Thanks so much for calling us, Lil. How is she doing?”
It was Neva’s voice I could hear, and then Lil’s, reciting the prognosis from the doctor. A minor myocardial infarction. Too weary to open my eyes, I just let their words wash over me.
“What have they given her?” Grace spoke now—I recognized her bossy, professional tone. Clearly the news of my heart attack had frightened her, and she wanted to feel back in control. I heard my chart being lifted off the foot of the bed. “Aspirin, beta-blockers, nitroglycerin—”
Lil cut in. “What is nitroglycerin?”
“It’s a common medicine.” The male voice was unfamiliar. “It widens and opens your blood vessels, and allows blood and oxygen to reach your heart more easily. Very effective.”
“Are you a doctor?” Lil asked.
“Yes, though I’m not an expert in this area. My patients are a little short in the tooth for heart attacks.”
The papers ruffled again. “That’s weird,” Grace said. “Mom’s blood type is AB positive. I didn’t know she was AB positive.”
My eyes flew open. Grace, Lil, and a man whom I now presumed to be Neva’s pediatrician friend stood at the foot of my bed, studying my chart. Neva was by my side. Her face lit up.
“Gran,” she said. “You’re awake.”
Grace dropped my chart back on the rail and came to my other side. “Mom. How are you feeling?”
“Absolutely fine. I told Lil not to worry you. I knew you’d just come down here.”
“You had a heart attack, Gran!” Neva said. “As if we’d be anywhere else.”
“You need to let us help you more, Mom,” Grace said. “We can do your grocery shopping, errands, whatever you need.”
“Stop your fussing,” I told them. “I’m fine.”
Lil watched the pediatrician intently. “Could those things—shopping, errands—have caused her heart attack?”
“I’m not her doctor, but generally speaking, light activity should reduce the risk of heart attack. It’s more likely to be brought on by high cholesterol or poor diet. Sometimes it’s just genetics or age. Sometimes stress.”
Lil’s ears pricked up. Stress.
“Sorry, Gran,” Neva said. “You haven’t been introduced to Patrick. He’s my—”
“Boyfriend.” The man sent Neva a sideways wink. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Higgins. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
I smiled. I liked his spunk. “It’s nice to meet you too, Patrick. Call me Floss.”
My gaze floated back to Grace. She was holding my chart again, frowning at it. Lil’s expression gave away her own worries. Both of them, I knew, had questions for me. So, probably, did Neva. I’d managed to evade them this time. But next time?
It was all starting to close in on me. And I got the feeling it was only a matter of time before my secret came out.