The Best of Us (Sullivan's Crossing #4)(57)

“I like a morning walk,” she told him. “It sets me up for the day, but normally I walk alone and spend the time thinking of what I’m going to write. It takes me a long time to get to it and I’m thinking the whole time. But today after we have a walk and some breakfast, I’m going home. I know Leigh is going to work this afternoon so maybe I’ll catch her before she goes to the clinic. I want to hear about her dinner date.”

“Think she’ll tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a laugh. “One look at her face and I’ll know.”

“And will you tell Leigh about your dinner date?”

“There’s one thing you should know about our grown children. They are never too old to put their hands over their ears and cry La-La-La-La-La to drown out what is outrageous to them.”

“Well, it is pretty outrageous, when you think about it,” he said. “At least for me, at my age. Helen, you must realize, I don’t know how much time I have left.”

“Neither do I,” she said.

“Surely ten years more than I have. You’re just a pup. I bet you don’t even collect Social Security yet!”

“I’m holding off on that a few more years. I want to tell you something. My mother passed away at the age of fifty. I wasn’t even thirty. She had cancer and had been fighting it for a few years. My father was quite a bit older than my mother and he followed pretty quickly. There is not exactly a history of long lives in my family. But I’m said to be in good health despite taking medicine for both cholesterol and blood pressure. I have no guarantees, either. But what I really want you to understand is we could be thirty and there would be no guarantees, don’t you see? So, I’m for living each day fully and happily. Beyond that, I have no ideas. Well, one idea. If I’ve only got four years, as an example, I don’t think I want to live those four years thinking about the end.”

“I think that’s very wise,” he said. “There is one truth you should know. I was much better in bed when I was thirty-five.”

She laughed loudly. “So was I.”







Don’t judge each day by the harvest that you reap but by the seeds that you plant.

—Robert Louis Stevenson



12


IT WAS EARLY in the day and the urgent care waiting room held a few occupants when Sierra Boyle waddled in, her fist pushing into the small of her back. Behind her, Connie was holding one-year-old Sam on his hip.

Sierra went to the counter, which was manned by Gretchen. “Hi, Gretchen,” she said, signing in. “I have a terrible backache—I might’ve strained it lifting Sam. I can’t take anything. I’m having the baby in three days. Can I see Dr. Culver, please?”

“Sure,” Gretchen said. “It’ll be a bit of a wait.”

“That’s okay. She’s my only option.”

“Have a seat,” Gretchen said.

“Thanks, but I’m better just walking.”

It was only a few minutes before Eleanor happened into the reception area and saw Sierra. Eleanor looked at the sign-in sheet, spoke to Gretchen, then went to get Sierra and took her to an exam room. Connie and Sam followed.

“Jump up on the exam table,” Eleanor said. “Okay, no jumping. Here, let me help. Then I’ll get the doctor.”

“I’m sorry to be a bother but I want good behavior points—I didn’t take Advil.”

“Five stars for you. I’ll be right back.”

It was only a minute before Leigh came into the room. “What’s up?”

“Just a backache, but it’s so terrible I hardly slept.”

“No one slept,” Connie put in.

Leigh raised the back of the exam table a bit. “Can I get you to lean back, Sierra. I just want to give the baby a little listen.”

“I’m having her in three days,” Sierra said. “The doctor is going to induce me.”

Leigh was busy with her stethoscope listening to Sierra’s heart, then listening to her big, round belly, then touching Sierra’s belly. “Eleanor, can I get a blood pressure here,” she asked. She looked into Sierra’s eyes and said, “Not three days, Sierra. You’re in labor.”

“But I’m not having pains!”

“You’re having the dreaded beast—back labor. Does it come and go?”

“Not anymore!” she said. “It’s been one big pain forever.”

“I’d tell you to go straight to the hospital, but I think I should have a look,” Leigh said. “Connie, take Sam out to Gretchen and help me get Sierra out of these jeans.”

“Holy crap, Sierra,” he said. Instead of doing as he was told, he got out his cell phone and punched in numbers one-handed. “Rafe, come and get Sam at the urgent care. Sierra’s in labor. Gretchen will have him. Can you hurry?”

“He’s right across the street. He’s working today,” Connie said to Sierra. “Don’t do anything till I get back.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Sierra said to Leigh.

Leigh was pulling on her gloves. “Push down these jeans and I’ll pull them off,” Leigh said.