Delayed Call
Page 7
Suddenly, the door opened, and the doctor walked in. Thankfully, because Brie needed to do research on this NateWay place since she hadn’t heard a thing about it. She also needed to call and talk to the director of the home because who was this dude coming in and seeing her brother? Wasn’t there a privacy law? What the hell? Annoyed, she looked to her brother and nodded. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“When?”
“Later.”
He threw his hands to his thighs in frustration as he whined, “Brie—”
“Rod, I promise, later,” she stressed before looking back to the doctor. “Hey, Dr. Miller.”
“Hello, Brie. Rod, how ya feeling, buddy?”
Rod was upset. It was visible as he mumbled, “Fine.”
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Miller asked as he listened to Rod’s breathing and then his heart.
“My sister doesn’t listen to me.”
“I do listen, Rod, I promise. I’ll look into it.”
“I have a pamphlet!” he almost yelled before digging it out of his pocket and handing it to Brie. She took it, but she knew in her heart it wouldn’t work out. She had looked into those private neighborhoods for Down syndrome adults, and none of them ever had a sponsorship. She hadn’t even heard of this one, and she swore she was going to kill the person who planted this seed in her brother’s brain.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it and looking at the front of it as Dr. Miller continued his exam. It was a colorful ad, something designed to catch the eye of someone like Rod. It looked great too, just like the others. Little, individual houses, and it even had nurses on site. It would be perfect for Rod. He’d love it, especially since it was only three minutes down the road from her new apartment. But she assumed the living cost was way out of her budget.
She folded it up, her heart sinking because she knew he would ask more about this, and there was no way she would be able to afford it. As she went to tuck it into her purse, she noticed a handwritten number and the name Nate. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she wouldn’t be finding out. She wasn’t sure if what Rod said was true. He sometimes didn’t listen all the way, only heard what he wanted. She wouldn’t call, asking for something that wasn’t offered. She just couldn’t.
“So, we have a problem,” Dr. Miller said, stealing her attention. She looked up, her eyes widening as she held his gaze. “The echocardiogram didn’t show what we wanted, unfortunately.”
“It didn’t?” she struggled to ask.
“No, the electrical conductivity isn’t working properly, so we’ll need to put a pacemaker in.”
Her heart dropped once more. “Another surgery?”
“Regrettably, yes.”
Rod groaned beside her. He had already had two of them in his adult life, and they weren’t something he bounced back from quickly. Plus, they stressed Brie out to the extreme.
“When?”
“Soon, probably before the new year, and he’ll be down for about a month.”
Rod groaned once more as Brie slowly shook her head. “How long will he be in the hospital?”
“A week.”
She closed her eyes as Rod complained beside her. “But you said we could go to Harry Potter World after New Year’s.”
She nodded as she met his gaze. “I know, bub, but I don’t think we’ll make it this time.”
As her brother’s shoulders dropped and his little bottom lip popped out, failure washed over Brie once more. She was starting to think that was the only emotion she would ever feel, and that alone gave her no good outlook on the new year.
But then, that was the theme of her life.
Bad luck.
“Dude! Tricksie ate my shoes!”
Tricksie’s ears perked up as Vaughn looked over to his best friend who was coming out of the back bedroom, holding said pair of shoes that were obviously mangled to hell. While his girl was a good three years old, they had found she had a bit of a chewing issue. “They were ugly anyway. She was helping you out.”
Jensen glared. “I love these shoes. She needs to be locked up when we leave.”
Vaughn’s brows touched as he shook his head. “No, you need to put your shit up before you leave. You know she has anxiety. She came from a ditch, Jenny. She had nothing, she lost her leg, she is emotional, and she misses us when we’re gone.”
With an incredulous look, Jensen held his gaze. “Are you guilt-tripping me? When your dog is the one that ate my three-hundred-dollar sneakers?”
Vaughn balked. “Who spends that much on shoes? You freak.”
“You do, loser! You have the same pair.”
Vaughn shrugged as Tricksie barked loudly, her little tail wagging. Other than her chewing issue, she was an awesome dog. Sweet as all get-out and amazing. She loved everyone she met, and even the cold, heartless Wren Lemiere loved his baby. Easy to say, Tricksie did no wrong, and it was Jensen’s fault she chewed his shoes. “Whatever. She said she was sorry, and she would try to do better.”
Jensen glared. “She can’t talk.”
She barked once more, growling a bit. “She said she’s a human, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner she’ll stop chewing your shoes.”
“I hate you. I hate you so much,” Jensen muttered as he threw his shoes in the trash and then fell back on the couch. Tricksie went right for him, cuddling against him. Of course, Jensen couldn’t resist, and he hugged the puppy. She was cute, so Vaughn didn’t blame him. “This dog is so spoiled.”
“So? She’s a princess. Aren’t you, sweet girl? Daddy’s princess.”
Jensen’s face scrunched up. “It’s unhealthy, the love you have for this dog.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“You sleep with her.”
“So?”
“You hold her paw when you sleep.”
Vaughn shrugged, not the least bit offended. “I do that for her. She needs that contact.”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen shook his head. “No, you need that connection. I pray you don’t do more.”
“Do more?”
“Take your relationship to another level,” he said with a laugh, and Vaughn wrinkled his nose.
“You freak! She’s my baby, and who thinks like that? Oh, yeah, dirty French Canadians from the backwoods of Canada, like you.”
“When?”
“Later.”
He threw his hands to his thighs in frustration as he whined, “Brie—”
“Rod, I promise, later,” she stressed before looking back to the doctor. “Hey, Dr. Miller.”
“Hello, Brie. Rod, how ya feeling, buddy?”
Rod was upset. It was visible as he mumbled, “Fine.”
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Miller asked as he listened to Rod’s breathing and then his heart.
“My sister doesn’t listen to me.”
“I do listen, Rod, I promise. I’ll look into it.”
“I have a pamphlet!” he almost yelled before digging it out of his pocket and handing it to Brie. She took it, but she knew in her heart it wouldn’t work out. She had looked into those private neighborhoods for Down syndrome adults, and none of them ever had a sponsorship. She hadn’t even heard of this one, and she swore she was going to kill the person who planted this seed in her brother’s brain.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it and looking at the front of it as Dr. Miller continued his exam. It was a colorful ad, something designed to catch the eye of someone like Rod. It looked great too, just like the others. Little, individual houses, and it even had nurses on site. It would be perfect for Rod. He’d love it, especially since it was only three minutes down the road from her new apartment. But she assumed the living cost was way out of her budget.
She folded it up, her heart sinking because she knew he would ask more about this, and there was no way she would be able to afford it. As she went to tuck it into her purse, she noticed a handwritten number and the name Nate. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she wouldn’t be finding out. She wasn’t sure if what Rod said was true. He sometimes didn’t listen all the way, only heard what he wanted. She wouldn’t call, asking for something that wasn’t offered. She just couldn’t.
“So, we have a problem,” Dr. Miller said, stealing her attention. She looked up, her eyes widening as she held his gaze. “The echocardiogram didn’t show what we wanted, unfortunately.”
“It didn’t?” she struggled to ask.
“No, the electrical conductivity isn’t working properly, so we’ll need to put a pacemaker in.”
Her heart dropped once more. “Another surgery?”
“Regrettably, yes.”
Rod groaned beside her. He had already had two of them in his adult life, and they weren’t something he bounced back from quickly. Plus, they stressed Brie out to the extreme.
“When?”
“Soon, probably before the new year, and he’ll be down for about a month.”
Rod groaned once more as Brie slowly shook her head. “How long will he be in the hospital?”
“A week.”
She closed her eyes as Rod complained beside her. “But you said we could go to Harry Potter World after New Year’s.”
She nodded as she met his gaze. “I know, bub, but I don’t think we’ll make it this time.”
As her brother’s shoulders dropped and his little bottom lip popped out, failure washed over Brie once more. She was starting to think that was the only emotion she would ever feel, and that alone gave her no good outlook on the new year.
But then, that was the theme of her life.
Bad luck.
“Dude! Tricksie ate my shoes!”
Tricksie’s ears perked up as Vaughn looked over to his best friend who was coming out of the back bedroom, holding said pair of shoes that were obviously mangled to hell. While his girl was a good three years old, they had found she had a bit of a chewing issue. “They were ugly anyway. She was helping you out.”
Jensen glared. “I love these shoes. She needs to be locked up when we leave.”
Vaughn’s brows touched as he shook his head. “No, you need to put your shit up before you leave. You know she has anxiety. She came from a ditch, Jenny. She had nothing, she lost her leg, she is emotional, and she misses us when we’re gone.”
With an incredulous look, Jensen held his gaze. “Are you guilt-tripping me? When your dog is the one that ate my three-hundred-dollar sneakers?”
Vaughn balked. “Who spends that much on shoes? You freak.”
“You do, loser! You have the same pair.”
Vaughn shrugged as Tricksie barked loudly, her little tail wagging. Other than her chewing issue, she was an awesome dog. Sweet as all get-out and amazing. She loved everyone she met, and even the cold, heartless Wren Lemiere loved his baby. Easy to say, Tricksie did no wrong, and it was Jensen’s fault she chewed his shoes. “Whatever. She said she was sorry, and she would try to do better.”
Jensen glared. “She can’t talk.”
She barked once more, growling a bit. “She said she’s a human, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner she’ll stop chewing your shoes.”
“I hate you. I hate you so much,” Jensen muttered as he threw his shoes in the trash and then fell back on the couch. Tricksie went right for him, cuddling against him. Of course, Jensen couldn’t resist, and he hugged the puppy. She was cute, so Vaughn didn’t blame him. “This dog is so spoiled.”
“So? She’s a princess. Aren’t you, sweet girl? Daddy’s princess.”
Jensen’s face scrunched up. “It’s unhealthy, the love you have for this dog.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“You sleep with her.”
“So?”
“You hold her paw when you sleep.”
Vaughn shrugged, not the least bit offended. “I do that for her. She needs that contact.”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen shook his head. “No, you need that connection. I pray you don’t do more.”
“Do more?”
“Take your relationship to another level,” he said with a laugh, and Vaughn wrinkled his nose.
“You freak! She’s my baby, and who thinks like that? Oh, yeah, dirty French Canadians from the backwoods of Canada, like you.”
