“I’m so tired,” she whispered.
“The anesthesia’s going to keep her groggy for a little while,” the nurse said. “It’ll wear off in a bit.”
Curtis nodded, then looked at Lorrie. “Sleep, honey. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
As though that was what she needed to hear, Lorrie closed her eyes and drifted off while Curtis vigilantly sat by her side for the next couple of hours.
Zoey Walker stood at the stove, stirring the pot of canned stew after she set the glass lid on the pot of instant rice. It wasn’t the greatest dinner in the world, but with two kids, a husband, and a bustling resort to tend to, it would suffice. That or frozen chicken nuggets, and since they’d had those twice this week, stew sounded much better.
The back screen door slammed, and she glanced over to see Kaleb standing there. He hardly had a chance to get his hat off before Mason was running into the room, hollering as he launched himself at his father’s legs.
“What’s up, little man?” Kaleb glanced her way as he swung Mason up into the air. “Smells good. What is it?”
“Dinty Moore,” she said with a grin.
“My favorite.” The man was easy to please when it came to food. For that she was grateful, because, though she could hold her own in the kitchen thanks to years of being taught by Lorrie, they didn’t usually have much time for gourmet meals.
Speaking of… “How’s your mom?” she asked when Kaleb cupped her chin, tilting her head up so he could kiss her lips.
“Good. Pop got her home and she’s all settled in. She said to tell you thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.” Zoey would do anything for Curtis and Lorrie, just as she knew they’d do anything for her and her family.
“So, how was your day?” Kaleb asked, placing Mason on his feet.
“Well, I managed to keep Mason from tearing up your parents’ house. Just barely.”
Kaleb chuckled, watching as Mason tore ass out of the room at full speed and his loudest decibel level.
Flipping off the burner, Zoey stepped out of the way and allowed Kaleb to grab the two pots from the stove and take them to the table. She pulled plates and silverware out of the dishwasher—since she’d forgotten to empty it that morning—before joining him.
“Mason! Dinner!”
“Where’s Kellan?” Kaleb asked.
“Sleeping. I think he’s got another tooth coming in.”
“Aww, hell.” Kaleb helped Mason into his high chair before snapping the tray in place.
“Yep. More sleepless nights,” she said as she scooped food onto each of their plates. “Oh. That reminds me.”
Kaleb’s eyebrows lifted and that mischievous smirk tilted his sexy mouth.
“What in the world could you possibly find dirty in that?” she asked.
“You said sleepless nights. I know a few proven methods to keep you up at night.”
Zoey smacked his arm, then sat down beside him. “Did you know your mother keeps a diary?”
“A diary?” He looked puzzled.
“Yeah. You know, those books people write their personal thoughts in.”
“I thought it was a journal.”
“Same difference. But did you? Know?”
Kaleb settled his elbows on the table, spooning food into his mouth as he shook his head.
“I didn’t mean to, but I stumbled upon them when I was looking for sheets for their bed. She’s got several boxes of them in her closet.”
“Why does she keep sheets in boxes?” he asked, staring back at her blankly.
“Not sheets, dummy. Diaries.”
“You lost me, babe.”
“It looks like your mom’s been writing in a diary for years and years. I don’t know how many there were, but there was one sitting out on one of the boxes, and it had 1962 written on the front.”
“Did you read it?”
“God no.” Zoey chuckled. “That’s an invasion of privacy.”
“I woulda read it.”
“Whatever.” Zoey didn’t believe that for a second. “What if your mom wrote about having sex with your dad? You wanna read about that?”
Kaleb sat up straight. “Hell no.”
“Hell no,” Mason mocked.
“Shit,” Kaleb said, glancing over at Mason.
“Shit,” Mason echoed.
Great. “Not helping,” Zoey told her husband, laughing at the two of them.
“So women write about sex in their diaries?” Kaleb inquired once he got Mason distracted with his green beans.
“Not only women keep diaries,” she told him.
“Yes, they do. We men don’t write down our thoughts.”
Figuring it was easier to appease him than argue, Zoey said, “And yes, women write about everything in their diaries.”
“Wait a minute.” Kaleb turned to her, his face serious. “Do you keep a diary?”
She didn’t, but she said, “Maybe.”
“Do you write about sex? ’Cause if you do, I wanna read it.”
Men.
Shaking her head, Zoey focused on her food.
chapter FIFTY-ONE
Two weeks later, Friday, April 1
Curtis sat in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, doing his damnedest to pay attention to the ratty magazine in his hand. Truth was, he didn’t give two shits about any of the articles in Guns and Ammo, though it had been a smidge better than picking up the one with some half-naked woman on the front of it. Then again, he wasn’t interested in any of it anyhow. His mind was off in the room with Lorrie, wishing he could be back there with her while she went through the procedure.
The appointment was to remove the stent in her bladder, along with the Foley catheter she’d been boldly managing for the past two weeks without complaint. She was definitely a better person than he was. No way would he have gone fourteen days with that shit strapped to his body. But he’d never once heard her complain.
Now, the only thing he could do was wait and try to focus on something other than storming through that door to find his wife. Curtis prided himself on his patience—he was, after all, a backwoods country boy at heart—but there was no doubt he wasn’t all that patient when it came to Lorrie. She was the center of his entire world.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out, squinting down at the screen.
Ethan: How’s the appointment going? You a nervous wreck yet?
His kids knew him too well.
He hated the damn phone, especially the whole texting thing. His fingers were too big to punch those little buttons, which made responding too damn difficult. However, he had to admit, it was a little convenient that he could have a conversation without anyone else in the waiting room hearing all the gory details.
Curtis: When have you ever known me to be nervous?
He waited for a response, watching his phone intently. The first thing to pop up was some little monkey face that looked as though it were laughing at him. He didn’t know how to send all that shit, but his boys sure as hell enjoyed it.
Ethan: I’m gonna go with always.
Curtis: Shouldn’t you be working, boy?
Ethan: I am working. Wanted to check in, that’s all.
Curtis: She’s in with the doctor. Once I know more, I’ll let you know.
Ethan: Okay. Now do us all a favor and relax a bit, would ya?
Easier said than done.
“Mr. Walker?”
Curtis lifted his gaze from his phone. He glanced over at the door to see a nurse standing there, smiling at him. “Mrs. Walker is ready for you to come back now.”
He shot up out of his chair, shoving his phone back in his pocket as he fought the urge to run. His old-ass legs wouldn’t get him there that fast, anyway, but his brain didn’t seem to realize that.
Lorrie felt better than she had in forever. Lighter maybe. Even now, as she positioned herself in the hardback chair, waiting for Curtis to come into the room to get her and for the nu
rse to return with a prescription for more antibiotics.
The doctor had said it’d all gone well, only a minor hiccup with the procedure, but nothing that she needed to worry about. He’d told her she shouldn’t feel any discomfort while he removed the stent and for her to lie still, which she’d done. So when she’d felt a slight stabbing feeling, she had flinched and cried out. The doctor had looked up at her, his smile forced as he explained that he’d nicked her bladder with whatever tool he’d used to remove the stent, causing a slight tear, but the oral antibiotics she was on would ensure no infection, and he’d get her a refill for a few more days to make sure. Since the doctor didn’t seem worried, neither was she. The only thing she wanted to do was get out of there.
When Curtis walked in, she smiled at him, ensuring he knew she was okay.
“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, moving toward her slowly as though he was scared she would break. “How’re you feelin’?”
“Perfect,” she told him, getting to her feet. “Better than perfect. I was thinking maybe you could take me to dinner tonight.”
“Anything you want,” he told her, the lines on his face easing somewhat. He glanced around. “Are you all done? Did the doctor say anything?”
“I’m just…” She didn’t get to finish her sentence when the nurse scurried in, handing her a sheet of paper. Lorrie promptly thanked her and was told she was free to go.
“Looks like we’re good to go,” Lorrie told Curtis.
“Well, then.” Curtis’s face lit up as though that was a relief he hadn’t been expecting.
After grabbing her purse from the counter, she allowed Curtis to take her hand and lead her out of the small room. They stopped at the reception desk to ensure they didn’t need to do anything more. The kind woman reminded her that the doctor said to call if she had any issues. Lorrie hoped she wouldn’t have to call. She just wanted this to be behind her. Being sick for months on end had been a nuisance she was ready to be rid of.
Forty-five minutes later, they were seated in a booth at Mama’s Diner, Curtis beside her with glasses of iced tea in front of them. The small restaurant was relatively busy for a Friday afternoon. The sounds of silverware clinking along with the soft drone of conversation were music to her ears. For nearly two weeks, Lorrie hadn’t ventured out of the house unless it was to go to church.
“Are you really feeling better?” Curtis asked as he stacked the menus, pushing them to the far side of the table. Didn’t matter what day they went to the diner, they always ordered the special, so there wasn’t any decision-making necessary.
“Much,” she assured him. And it was no less than the truth. She felt like a brand-new person. No pain, no discomfort. And most of all, no strange medical devices on, or in, her body.
Curtis leaned over and kissed her temple. “I’ll call the boys when we get home. Let ’em know you’re all right.”
“You could just send them a text.” Lorrie knew Curtis wasn’t all that fond of texting, but she liked giving him a hard time about it. She had ensured that she kept up with the times, though Travis still enjoyed giving her crap when she messed things up, sending him texts on accident from time to time. Little did he know, but sometimes she did that on purpose. Accidentally on purpose.
Curtis frowned. “You know I ain’t good with that stuff.”
He would’ve been if he’d ever given it a chance, Lorrie thought. But if Curtis wanted to call the boys and tell them, she would let him.
“You want me to mention Sunday dinner?”
For the past two Sundays, Lorrie hadn’t felt up to having a house full of people, so she’d had to let them all down. She could only remember a handful of Sundays when they hadn’t all gotten together to share a meal since the boys had started moving out, and though it had only been two weeks, Lorrie missed them all terribly.
“Yes. Maybe Zoey can come over and help me cook.”
“I’m sure she’d be happy to.”
“Then it’s settled.” Lorrie was looking forward to things getting back to normal now that she felt better. “Maybe we can go out and check on the horses when we get home.”
Curtis’s gaze held a hint of concern. “You sure?”
“I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t.” Lorrie smiled at him. “And then, if you’re nice, maybe I’ll give you a little surprise at home.”
That wicked gleam she’d seen for the past five decades was back, and it still had the same effect on her now. People who claimed sex after a certain age wasn’t possible hadn’t been with a Walker man, that was for sure.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said tenderly.
“You won’t, I promise. I’m all fixed up. The doctor told me so.”
“Then we’ll do whatever you want, darlin’. Whatever you want.”
chapter FIFTY-TWO
Sunday, April 3
“Pop!” Travis called out to his father when they walked into the crowded emergency room waiting area. There were people scattered about from one side of the room to the other, some talking, some who looked to be sleeping.
He noticed his father looking around as though he didn’t know where he was or who was calling him. Then again, the frantic voice mail Curtis had left had nearly sent Travis into a panic. The only things keeping him together were the woman and man standing at his side keeping him that way.
“Dad? You okay?” Travis asked when they approached.
His father looked dazed and confused, as though he couldn’t focus on who Travis was.
It only took a moment before the fog seemed to clear and Curtis was back with them.
Damn, this place smelled like disinfectant and disease, which wasn’t at all appealing by any means. For a second, he wondered if maybe Gage and Kylie should take Kate home. He doubted it could be good for his pregnant wife or his little girl to be in there. Then again, he knew Kylie. She wouldn’t leave until she knew what was going on. According to Curtis’s message, they’d needed to get their asses down to the hospital and quick.
Here they were.
“Where’s Mom?” he asked, trying not to be too gruff, but his fear was overwhelming him. He could handle a lot of shit, but he didn’t hold up too well when it came to something being wrong with a member of his family. He recalled back when Zane had been beaten and hospitalized… He hated thinking about that shit.
“Tests,” Curtis grumbled, his eyes scanning the faces around them. Once again, Travis felt as though his father was somewhere far away. That or he was panicking, which was likely the case.
“Dad, you need to sit down,” Kylie instructed, her small hand curling around Curtis’s arm as she guided him toward a chair. The woman didn’t even realize she held his heart right in her hands.
Gage’s firm hand came to rest on Travis’s shoulder, a silent message that he was right there, ready to catch him if he fell. God, he loved that man.
“Breathe,” Kylie told Travis’s father. “Just breathe.”
“Where’re your brothers?” Curtis asked, meeting Travis’s eyes.
“They’re on the way. I called them as soon as I hung up with you. Did the doctor say anything before they sent you out here?”
“Something about infection…” Curtis was shaking his head as though he couldn’t recall what they’d told him.
Travis gave his father’s shoulder a strong, comforting squeeze. “From the kidney stone?”
“They said that shouldn’t have caused it.”
Travis looked up at his husband and his wife, feeling a little off-kilter. His mother was somewhere in this hospital, and they didn’t seem to be telling his father what he needed to know.
His heart broke when his father put his hands over his face, breathing deeply. Travis had been there before, that space where you were trying to breathe through the emotional pain, trying to hold your shit together, and knowing it wasn’t going to matter. Falling apart was inevitable.
“Hey, Trav. Pop.”
The sound of Ethan’s voice drew his
attention toward the door. Travis saw some of his brothers and their significant others coming toward them. Ethan and Beau, Kaleb and Zoey, Sawyer and Kennedy. All of their faces reflected the same concern and fear that Travis felt.
“What sort of tests are they doing?” Kylie asked, her hand still resting on Curtis’s arm.
“Blood tests and a CT scan.”
Probably standard tests, Travis thought.
“What happened?” Kennedy asked, his sister-in-law’s concern palpable.
Travis stepped back when his father sat up straight, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white.
“She woke up this mornin’, said she felt horrible,” Curtis explained. “She couldn’t eat, and if she tried, she couldn’t hold anything down. Her temperature was one-oh-three…”
Ethan squatted down in front of Curtis, placing his hand on their dad’s knee. “When did this start?”
“When she went to bed last night, she said she didn’t feel well. Thought maybe she was coming down with the flu.”
“The flu?” Ethan frowned, his eyes cutting to Travis’s briefly. “But she’s been better since Friday?”
Curtis nodded. “For a bit, yes. Then this morning, her skin was kinda ashy. Finally, she told me to get her to the hospital.”
Well, hell. If his mother had asked to go to the hospital, it had to be bad. Lorrie wasn’t the type to enjoy going to hospitals, regardless of who was there. One of those unexplainable phobias, she’d always told them.
Travis needed to get more information. He hated that his father had been sent out to the waiting room when his mother was somewhere back there being poked and prodded. She needed her husband to be with her.
“Be right back.” Travis patted Curtis’s shoulder, then nodded to Gage before he trekked over to the nurse’s desk.
He glanced over to see Braydon and Jessie, Brendon and Cheyenne, as well as Zane and Vanessa, coming toward them. Good. All his brothers were there, just as they should be.
“Hey, Trav,” his cousin Jared called out, coming toward him.
“Hey.”
Curtis (Coyote Ridge) (Volume 1) Page 25
