“You’re dehydrated,” she said bluntly. “Drink the tea. Or would you prefer to be hooked up to a machine to get IV fluids?”
“You should mind your own business,” he said, in between coughs. “I take care of myself. Nobody asked you to interfere.”
“Why is it so cold in here?”
“Why are you so bossy?”
She spied a blanket folded on the back of the chair and tucked it around him. “Don’t you have heat?”
“Not much insulation in these old walls. And I don’t care to be hot.”
Kerry dragged the chair over to the bed and sat down. “Keep drinking the tea. Do you have any crackers or anything like food in this place?”
“I eat out. Food brings bugs, and I despise bugs.”
She circled the room, looking for a thermostat, and shivered when she found it was set at sixty-two degrees, even though the temperature in the apartment was probably hovering in the low forties.
Finally, she heard the clanking of the freight elevator, and a moment later, Patrick and a young woman dressed casually in yoga pants and a hoodie burst into the room. Kerry recognized her as someone she’d frequently noticed around the neighborhood.
Heinz, struggling to sit up, regarded the newcomer with undisguised disdain. “Who is this girl?”
“I’m Dr. Oliver,” the woman said. She pulled a stethoscope from her jacket pocket, rubbed the stem in the palm of her hand to warm it up, and bent over the old man. “I’m a board-certified doctor, and I’m going to listen to your chest now.” She pushed aside the fabric of his robe.
“Deep breaths,” she said gently. “In and out.”
Heinz complied, but his breath ended in a rattling cough.
“Again.”
She sat him up and placed the scope on his back. “Breathe again, please.”
That done, she took a digital thermometer from another pocket and placed the tip in Heinz’s ear canal. When it beeped a second later, she frowned.
“One hundred two,” she said, her voice stern. “Mr. Heinz, how long have you had this cough and fever?”
“I hear fine, no need to shout,” he said fussily. “A little cold, that’s all.”
“No, sir. From the sound of your lungs, I’d say you have double pneumonia.” Dr. Oliver shivered and pulled her jacket closer. “Why is it so cold in here?”
“He says he likes it like this,” Kerry said.
“We need to get him somewhere warm, immediately. He’s dehydrated too. He needs to be admitted to a hospital.”
“No hospital,” Heinz shot back, glaring at her. “You’re not my doctor.”
“True. I’m only here as a favor to Patrick. And Austin.” She turned to Kerry. “If you’re not his family, and he doesn’t want to seek further treatment, there’s not much I can do here.” She turned back to the patient. “Do you have family, Mr. Heinz?”
“No. They are all gone.”
Silence fell over the small, frigid room.
“What if we moved him someplace warmer? And got him some antibiotics?” Kerry asked, desperate to find a solution. “I could stay and see that he’s taking care of himself. See that he’s eating and drinking and taking his meds.”
“You’re going to keep him in that camper in the park?” the doctor asked, not unkindly.
“Of course not.” Kerry locked eyes with the old man. “Heinz, the superintendent tells us he thinks you have an apartment on the top floor of this building. Is that true?”
Heinz looked away. “I don’t … I don’t stay there.” He abruptly rolled over and turned his back to these unwanted visitors who’d invaded his space.
“Heinz?” Kerry said.
His voice was muffled. “I live here now.”
“Please don’t do this. If something should happen to you, Austin would be heartbroken. And so would I.”
“He wants to finish your story,” Patrick put in. “And he says you’re the only one who can do that.”
Slowly, the old man turned to face them. “Go away and leave me in peace.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Kerry declared. “You can ignore me, or dog cuss me or whatever, but I’m staying right here.”
She looked up at Patrick, who shrugged his agreement.
“He really should be in a hospital,” Dr. Oliver repeated, shaking her head. “He needs fluids. See if you can get him to drink some Pedialyte, or even Gatorade.”
She sat in the bedside chair. “Mr. Heinz, I know you can hear me. Are you allergic to any medications?”
“No.”
“Any other health concerns? Heart disease, diabetes?”
“I’m old. That’s my health concern.”
The doctor chuckled. “At least he still has a sense of humor. Okay, I’ll call in a prescription for some antibiotics. Get him warm, keep him quiet and rested. See if you can get some soup in him.” She turned to Patrick. “Text me if you need me. Because of the weather, we’re staying home over the holidays.”
Patrick nodded his thanks, then turned to Kerry. “I hate to go, but I left Austin with Peg, my next-door neighbor.”
“We’ll be okay,” Kerry said. “Can you let Murphy know where I am and what I’m doing? And thank Claudia for brunch?”
He looked at his watch. “As soon as Gretchen gets back, I’ll pick up the prescription and everything else Abby says he needs.”
* * *
“If I take the pills, will you go away?” Heinz fixed Kerry with a baleful stare.
“No chance,” she said.
“I could call the police, have you arrested for trespassing.”
“You don’t have a phone,” Kerry pointed out.
He closed his eyes. End of discussion.
Kerry sat on the chair at his bedside and began scrolling the internet. A short while later, his breaths became steady. He was asleep. When her phone rang, she jumped up with a start and walked quickly outside the apartment.
chapter 46
“Mom?” Kerry’s heart pounded. “What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“If you mean is it Jock making me want to set my hair on fire, then, yes, it’s definitely your dad,” Birdie retorted.
“But is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s like a cockroach. You can’t kill that man. I just left him and he’s walking around, issuing orders and generally being the same old pain in the ass he’s always been.”
“Really?” Kerry brightened. “But I thought the doctors said—”
“Those doctors don’t know jack about Jock Tolliver. Anyway, he’s healthy enough that I’m going back to my own house today and I’m going to sit down and drink a glass of wine without anybody whining my name and asking me to fetch something. Now, quit stalling and tell me what’s going on with you up there.”
“I’ve got some bad news about Christmas,” Kerry said.
“Murphy called to tell us about what happened to the truck and to Spammy. I told him in no uncertain terms that he can’t just have Spammy melted down for scrap metal, but of course, your daddy sided with your brother and now it’s as good as done. I’m so mad at the two of them I could spit.”
“Mom?” Kerry said, puzzled. “I had no idea Spammy meant that much to you.”
Her mother’s voice was tearful. “Maybe I’m being silly, but I loved that old tin can. And do you want to know why?”
“Yeah.”