Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(50)

"Describe one of these spells."

"Okay," she murmured. "The other day I found him slouched in his chair without his hat. He always wears his hat because he doesn't tolerate the sun very well. Sammy knew something was wrong, too, because he came to get me."

"The dog?"

"Yes. Harvey was too weak to stand up. He hadn't eaten in a while so I heated up soup and brought that to him, but his weakness was due to more than an empty stomach. There was another time he blamed the fact that he hadn't eaten, but I knew he had. These spells seem to be happening more and more. It's scaring me. Something's wrong, I can feel it."

The doctor didn't say anything for a long moment. "You're probably right that it's his heart."

"Will you please come?"

He met her eyes.

"You don't have to pay me any more for the mural than this--the three-fifty--if you'll agree to come and meet Harvey." She'd offered to do the whole mural for free, and she would if he insisted, but she really could use the money. "All you have to do is meet him. I'd like you to talk to him a bit, though. Maybe you can figure out what's wrong."

"I doubt meeting your friend will do much good, Macy."

"He might listen to you."

"About what?"

"Seeing a doctor. I mean, for a real appointment. A checkup."

"When's the last time he was in to see a doctor?"

Macy smiled. "I asked him that, too, and he said it was when he enlisted in the marines."

He smiled. Dr. Everett actually smiled.

"Wow," she said aloud.

"Wow, what?"

"You're quite good-looking when you smile."

He immediately frowned. "About your friend..."

"You'd be willing to meet Harvey?" she asked, interrupting him for fear he'd be motivated by the insurance company and their small print instead of his own compassion and better judgment.

"Fine. And I'll pay you for the mural at the price we discussed."

"Okay. Thank you," she remembered to add.

His eyes narrowed. "You being agreeable is a new experience."

"It's important to me that you meet Harvey."

"You really do love this old man."

"Yes," she said, nodding vigorously. "He means the world to me. You'll like him, too, only don't be offended if he's a bit brusque or short-tempered. That's just his way. He doesn't mean anything by it." Macy hoped Harvey wouldn't be in one of his moods. He could get downright cantankerous.

"All right, Macy," Dr. Everett said in a resigned voice. "As I told you, I'll meet your friend."

She folded her hands as though in prayer. "Thank you, oh, thank you so much."

"I can't promise I'll be able to diagnose what's wrong with him."

"I know, and I'm not asking you to do anything more than meet him because it could get you into trouble." She rushed around his desk and threw both arms around his neck. She could tell he didn't care for her show of gratitude, but she couldn't resist.

"Macy! Stop it!"

"Sorry, it's just that this means so much to me. Can you come next week? Monday?"

"I'm not sure yet. In any event, all I can do is convince, uh, Harvey to see a physician. I have a friend I'll recommend."

"That would be perfect." She had a fleeting thought that maybe he could take a look at Snowball, too, but didn't mention that.

"Are we finished?" he asked.

"For now," she said. Macy felt wonderful. Everything had fallen into place exactly as it should.

Chapter Nineteen

L eanne Lancaster collected her mail on the way into her apartment. It was all she could afford. Due to the stalled economy, they'd lost money when they sold the house and, because of the renovation loan, hadn't had much equity, anyway. She'd signed a six-month lease on the apartment and eighteen months later she was still there. Her whole life seemed to be on hold.

She wished now that she hadn't made the effort to see Mark. The trip had only depressed her.

Even his physical appearance had been disheartening. The memory of Mark before prison--neat, well-dressed, confident--was a stark contrast to the man he was now. The shock of it continued to reverberate and left her sick at heart.

More for the pretense of companionship than any interest in current affairs, Leanne turned on the nightly news. She watched for five minutes and switched channels. If she was looking for something to raise her spirits, this clearly wasn't it. Instead, she tuned in to a game show and matched her trivia skills against the three contestants.

She lost. No surprise there.

She hadn't always been like this. Despite the fact that she worked with cancer patients, or possibly because of it, she used to be positive and optimistic, someone with an irrepressible sense of fun. Her personality had made her ideal for the job; she'd had the ability to help patients endure difficult treatments and, if terminal, to value the last months or weeks of their lives. People who walked through the oncology center's doors needed the medical staff to greet them with a positive outlook. These days with Leanne, they had to settle for compassion and gentleness. She smiled and said the right things, but her own life was a shambles.