“And then you went into the restroom?”
“I did. I was looking for some Tylenol. Suddenly the room started to spin, and before I could sit on the toilet seat, I fainted. It was the damnedest thing.”
“How long do you think you were out for?”
“Now you sound like the doctor,” she says, and pats my hand again. “Not long, dear. My test results should come back soon, and I’ll be on my way home. But I would prefer if Finn or Carter give me a ride home because Quinn is on my last nerve. Although, he’s lived on my last nerve for about thirty years.”
“I’m your favorite,” Quinn says with a smile just as the doctor walks into the room.
“Well, look at this party,” she says, and opens her laptop. “Mrs. Cavanaugh, I’m happy to report that you did not have a stroke, and your heart is healthy as well.”
“I told you,” Maggie says.
“However, your blood pressure is elevated, so I’d like you to see your doctor this week to get on medication for that.”
“It’s elevated because I’m in the hospital.”
“That could be,” the doctor says with a nod. “So it’s a good idea to see your doctor this week, and they will take it again to see if it’s back to normal, or if you need that medication.”
“She’ll go,” Quinn says, earning a glare from his mother.
“High blood pressure can cause those headaches, and the wooziness,” the doctor continues. “So be sure to do that for me. I’m going to give you something to bring it down temporarily.”
“Thank you,” Maggie says. “Does this mean I get to go home?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m going to order that medicine, and we’ll finish pushing these fluids so you’re nicely hydrated. That’s another thing, be sure to drink lots of water. Being dehydrated can also lead to those headaches.”
“I drink plenty of tea.”
“No, ma’am,” the doctor replies. “You need just plain old water. Add some lemon to it if you like.”
And with that, she leaves, and we’re left with a moody Maggie.
“I’m seventy-two years old,” she says with a scowl. “I think I know what I need.”
“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” Quinn says.
“I’ve met another,” Finn says, and points at me.
“Me?” I demand.
“Oh yeah. You.”
“Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I really like her, Finn. You hang on to this one.”
Finn just smiles at me from across the bed.
“So, what did Quinn mean earlier?” I ask when we’re finally on our way back to Finn’s place a couple of hours later.
“About the medical issues thing?”
“Yeah.”
Finn rubs his fingers over his lips and then switches lanes.
“When my sister got sick, she and Carter kept it to themselves for a while. I know that neither of them thought she would die from the cancer, given her age and her previous health history.
“So, they decided that they’d keep it quiet for a while and let her get some treatments under her belt before they worried the rest of the family. By the time they told us, she only had about a month left to live.”
“Oh, that’s just horrible, Finn. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I was very angry with Carter for a long time. As you can see, I wasn’t the only one. My dad didn’t take it well either, and ended up passing from a heart attack not long after Darcy died. It was a hard time.
“If we’d known that she was sick sooner, we all would have taken more time to be with her, to spend more precious time with her before she left.”
“It never would have been enough time,” I reply, and lay my hand on his thigh.
“I know,” he says softly. “I get that now. And it was important for her to spend time with Gabby and Carter, to have a life with them for as long as she could. Darcy deserved that. But it was rough to find out that she not only had breast cancer, but that she’d already been through treatments that didn’t work. To be told, Hey guys, I have cancer, and we’ve already tried treatment. I have about three months to live is quite the shocker.”
“They thought she had three months?”
He nods. “But she had one month. We all went to live at my mom’s house so we could be there around the clock and spend as much time with her as we could. I know that wasn’t easy for Carter to have to share Darcy with the rest of us. But we loved her too.”
“Of course you did. There weren’t any other treatments they could try?”
He licks his lips, and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “There were, but they were expensive, and I don’t come from a wealthy family.”
I stare at him, completely taken aback.
“We weren’t poor, but we weren’t wealthy. The treatment they suggested was in Europe, and we were ready to sell property, take out loans, whatever we had to do, but there was only a twenty percent chance that it would have worked.”