Best Laid Plans (The Best Girls 4)
“What about my spleen? I mean, not having one?”
“You’ll have to be careful to avoid infections, get some vaccinations and watch carefully for any symptoms of illness.”
“You’ll tell me what to look for?”
“Yes, but if you happened to be married to a physician, he would know what the signs are.” He tilted his head, obviously waiting for her response.
“Josh and I were supposed to get married, but I’m kind of nervous about it. Eva told me I might be sickly. I wouldn’t want Josh to be stuck with me if I’m not—”
“Eva? Your nurse told you that?”
“She didn’t want to tell me. I made her be honest with me.”
“I see.”
“And I’m going to have scars.”
“Charlie, we told you, when someone loves you they don’t care about superficial things like scars. Would it bother you if Josh had scars?”
“Of course not. But that’s different.”
“How is it different?” Anne asked.
The difference is he doesn’t love me. “You know... He’s... He’s a man.”
“I think you need to hear it from Josh,” said Dr. Sommers. “Would you like for me to talk to him about it?”
“Please don’t. He’ll say it doesn’t bother him, even if it does. He wouldn’t admit the truth if it would hurt my feelings.”
“Charlie, that’s not fair,” Anne said. “You have to trust him. Surely you can believe he’s just as capable of unselfish love as you are.”
“You don’t understand,” she muttered, as tears rose to her eyes again.
Dr. Sommers’ eyes narrowed as he regarded Charlie’s emotional response. “I can give you something for anxiety. Would you like that?”
“I’ll be fine. I already feel like a weakling for needing so much pain medication.”
“Does this self-sacrificing stubbornness run in the family?” he asked Anne.
“It’s not from me. I’m a wimp about pain.” Anne chuckled.
He patted Charlie’s hand. “I think you need to talk to Josh a bit more, and you’ll feel better. Something tells me communication isn’t his strong point.”
EVA SPOTTED DR. BRANSON alone in the waiting room as she finished her shift. She thanked her lucky star, smoothing her hair down before stepping inside. “Hello, Dr. Branson. Can I get you anything? You must be exhausted.”
He paused from his pacing, “No, thank you. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. Ms....?”
“Eva. Just call me Eva.” She edged toward him. “I could at least get you a cup of coffee. You’re probably hungry. Have you had breakfast?”
“No, I haven’t eaten anything since noon, yesterday. I’ve been too worried.”
“I’m just getting off work. I can show you where to get some breakfast.”
“I appreciate the offer, but—”
“Ms. Carpenter?” Dr. Sommers’ voice interrupted. “May I have a word with you please?”
Eva’s stomach twisted. Dr. Sommers sounded serious. And he almost never sounded serious unless she’d done something wrong.