“A second procedure has a higher success rate, so that is what we’ll focus on, yes?” He pauses. “Are you all right, Emmy? Do you feel light headed?”
I glance up. “No. I’m fine. Just other things going on in my life.”
“I understand. It’s not the news you wanted to hear. You do need to avoid stress. Is that possible right now?”
Ha. “I’ll try.”
“Like before, we’ll make three to six keyhole-shaped incisions on either side of your chest, around your ribs and under your breast area. We’ll insert the device through those holes to reach your heart. Your heart will never stop beating.”
“I remember.” It was a fear of mine that it might stop and never pick back up.
“The surgery will take about three hours, and then we’ll put you in ICU for monitoring. If all looks well, you’ll get a regular room and can be discharged in three days. Your risks are bleeding, infection, stroke, pneumonia, heart attack.”
“Last time, I went back to work after a few days at home. Did I mess it up somehow?”
He frowns. “No, but you shouldn’t have. Sometimes it takes a couple of days for the anesthesia to completely wear off. I suggest you wait and see how you feel, but at least wait a week before you go to work. The nurse will give you a list of things you shouldn’t do, such as lifting, care of the incisions, et cetera. She’ll also get your surgery scheduled, all right?”
“How many of these can I have? If this one doesn’t work?”
“Some people have several over their lifetime. We’ll get it right this time, Emmy.” He comes over and pats me on the shoulder to reassure me, but that dread from earlier has settled deep in my bones. The bad premonition I had came true yesterday: Graham and I are over.
Chapter 29
EMMY
I’m browsing the third floor of the store when I hear a man clear his throat behind me. I turn to see who it is just as the PA system comes on. “Emmy, there’s a situation. Headed your way. Long and slithery—repeat, long and slithery.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I take in the man with a giant yellow snake coiled around his throat like a necklace. The snake’s body is long, its diameter as thick as my leg. It rears its head, slithering, as its tongue darts out to taste the air.
The hair on my arm rises, but I make my face impassive, even though I want to throw the book in my hands at him and run screaming. I don’t do that because one, the snake might chase me, and two, I don’t want to scare the other customers.
The man appears older than me and rather handsome in a rough way, with a full beard and his wiry hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s wearing a New York Pythons jersey. A fan.
“Sir, you can’t have that snake in the store.”
“It’s all right. She doesn’t have any fangs, and she’s nonpoisonous.” He says it as if he’s talking about the weather, then gives the snake a loving stroke down her skin.
“Can I help you?” Maybe he just wants a book, and I can escort him out without too much attention.
“Maybe. Just wanted to check out the place, see the store where Harlan works sometimes. He’s my favorite player.” He grins widely. “Did you see the game? Unbelievable play action. Our team is gonna win another Super Bowl. And little Veronica here watched the game with me.”
I can’t take my eyes off little Veronica. I wonder if she’s hypnotizing me. Like I’m prey. “Indeed.”
Babs shows up and comes to a halt next to me, her entire body vibrating. She leans in and whispers, “According to the staff, he walked in like it was no big deal and went right up the stairs. I was working on the schedule and didn’t see him.”
“How do we make him leave?” I say under my breath as the man strolls around the bookshelves, talking to Veronica the entire time.
“Police? Animal control?”
I shake my head. “He isn’t threatening anyone. He’s polite.”
“He’s wearing a python, Emmy. This isn’t a petting farm,” she hisses. “Those snakes squeeze you until you suffocate and die.”
“The snake isn’t coming after us. Mostly, it’s just a legless lizard, right? Okay, let me try something,” I say as I approach the man, and Babs follows me. “Hello, sir. Hope you like the store.”
He grins broadly. “It’s awesome. So much to look at.”
“Great. Listen, I’ll pass on your message to Graham, but unfortunately snakes aren’t allowed in the store. We’d love to have you come back without Veronica.”
His face crumbles. “But she’s like a mascot. Harlan would love it.”
“Tell you what,” I say, “I’ll take a pic of you here and pass it on to him. How does that sound?”
His shoulders slump in disappointment; then his eyes graze over Babs, then dart back.
“Babette?” he exclaims. “Is that you? By God, it is! It’s Hank, you know, from Highstreet Prep. We had every single class together.” A slow grin curls his face. “We had some fun times under the bleachers, didn’t we?”
She blinks rapidly. “H-Hank Westbrook? It’s been ages.” She laughs. “Love the beard and ponytail. What are you doing now?”
I look from one to the other, noticing the flush on Babs’s cheeks and the flirtatious smile on his.
“You’re still as pretty as ever,” he says. “I heard about Freddy on Facebook. My condolences.”
“Thank you. How are you? Still on Wall Street?”
“Nah, I’m retired now, living in Brooklyn. You still on Forty-Seventh Street?”
She says yes, and then he offers for her to pet Veronica. To my amazement, Babs gives the creature a tiny head stroke, then coos about how unusual her skin is.
I watch as they continue their conversation. Another customer walks by, sees the snake, and darts for the stairs. I rub my forehead.
“Um, sorry to interrupt this little reunion, but Hank, you need to leave so we don’t scare other people.” I give Babs a smirk. “Can you handle this? Maybe put him and Veronica on the elevator to the basement, where you two can catch up? Also, take a photo for Graham. He’ll get a kick out of seeing a fan in the store.”
She smiles and bats her lashes coquettishly at Hank, her face bright. I’m glad. She’s been lonely ever since Terry left. “Let’s take a ride. We can talk more in the basement. We recently added a table and chairs down there for breaks.” She waves her hand at me. “Can you have Andrew bring us some tea and scones, darling?”
“Of course,” I say, amused, as I watch them get on the elevator.
An hour later, I’m in my office when Jane pokes her head in the door. She’s wearing a concerned look, and I raise my brows, wondering what happened to put it there. “Hey, there’s a David Spencer to see you. He says he’s Graham’s lawyer.”
I straighten in my seat, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I check my lipstick and tighten the bun on my head. “All right, send him in.”