Love Is in the Air (102 page)

Once Bodhi was feeling better Wyatt was going to make sure he knew exactly everything he’d sacrificed for him.

Wyatt raced past rooms and partitions, catching glimpses of blue hospital gowns and flashing machines as he counted down the room. 504, 503… 502.

He slowed to a halt before the door. He couldn’t go in. He couldn’t
not
go in. He felt like he had back in grade school. Perched on the edge of the high dive back with all of his friends looking up from the public pool’s edge. Unable to go back down, incapable of taking the step off the edge.

But here it wasn’t just humiliation he faced. Instead it was…

Well, he didn’t quite know. All he knew was that he needed to get through that door. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the gray drab door. It was far worse than anything he could have imagined.

Tubes and wires obscured his uncle’s face and torso. Every machine seemed to be either beeping furiously or flashing a dire warning in red LED lights. Diablo was there, but seemed a different animal, subdued and sad-eyed. He burrowed even closer to his master’s side, shivering.

Wyatt hovered at the door, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. He met gazes with the tiny Chihuahua. Diablo stared up at him, whined once, then nudged Bodhi’s hand. Darn it, if that little dog was going to stand strong in the face of all of this, so was Wyatt. Allowing the door to close behind him, he made his way to the side of the bed.

He sat down on the lone stool and took Bodhi’s hand in his.

“Guess you weren’t playing hookey after all.” Wyatt’s voice hitched as he finished the phrase, so he fell silent, looking at the age spots dotting the back of his uncle’s hand. When had Bodhi gotten so old? He had always seemed more granite than flesh. Solid. Unmovable. Unchanging. But now he seemed so small and frail. The hoses and wires threatened to crush him under their weight.

Bodhi had always been there for Wyatt. After his father’s death. After that “misunderstanding” with the police. Bodhi
would
always be there. The beeping intensified, mocking Wyatt, giving the lie to his hopes.

“You know that field you told me about after Dad died?” Wyatt’s vision blurred, his eyes swimming in a pool of tears. “And the big oak tree?”

Diablo lifted his head and gave a warning growl.

“I mean pine.”

Diablo sniffed and looked away, apparently mollified.

“You always were an evergreen kind of guy.” His uncle was. Bodhi was a mountain. A mountain covered with pine.

“Anyway.” Wyatt coughed a bit, swallowed hard and started again, “I know Dad’s there and Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Bucky and heck, you must have a pack of dogs the size of Texas waiting for you, but…” A sob broke free, but Wyatt wrested it back in.

“You’re not done yet…” Wyatt choked out. “At least not with
me
.” God how he wished Bodhi would wake up. Squeeze his hand. Anything. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he said with a sniffle, “But I’m pretty messed up.”

Diablo barked in agreement. For once they were on the same page.

Wyatt bowed his head until his forehead touched the withered skin of Bodhi’s hand. He whispered, hoping that somehow Bodhi could hear him. “And I’m not sure how I’m going to un-mess-up without you.”

Tears flowed down his nose and splattered on the metal frame of the bed.

The door opened behind him. Wyatt wiped his eyes with his sleeve as he turned to see who had entered.

“Oh, you must be Wyatt. The nephew?” the doctor said as she offered Wyatt her hand. “I’m Dr. Leighton.”

He didn’t know why but he was comforted that Bodhi’s doc was a woman. She just seemed to ooze compassion even with that smarty pants stethoscope around her neck.

“Yeah.” Wyatt finished wiping off his face. “Hey, when they called they said he was up and talking.”

Dr. Leighton nodded with a frown. “Unfortunately, right after that assessment, he had another, larger stroke which has left him like…”

They both turned to gaze down at Bodhi’s motionless form.

“But he can still recover, right?” Wyatt asked or maybe more like pleaded. “I mean, he’s not tough like a pit bull. He
is
a pit bull.”

The doctor didn’t even grin though. “I’m sorry but the M.R.I. shows significant global swelling. It’ll be a minor miracle if he lasts the night.”

Wyatt sat back down hard. While the doctor’s voice was kind, it left no room false hope. This might be Bodhi’s last night on earth. It didn’t feel right. But Wyatt guessed that everyone visiting all the other patients felt the same way.

“Does your uncle have any family in the area?” Dr. Leighton asked.

“Yeah,” Wyatt said, snapping back to the situation at hand. “But nobody’s going to come. It’s just me.”

Wyatt wasn’t even sure what had happened all those years ago that had cast Bodhi from the family’s bosom, Wyatt just knew that not even his mom would come to her brother-in-law’s death bed. Guess Bodhi did know a thing or two about being a mess up.

“Ah. I see…” Dr. Leighton seemed hesitant to speak. “Well, then… the bad news isn’t over.”

Wyatt looked up from Bodhi to the doctor. “What do you mean?”

“Your uncle’s insurance card was… rejected.”

“How could they—?”

Dr. Leighton put a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, urging him back down onto the stool. Okay, yelling probably wasn’t allowed in a hospital, but none of this was making any sense.

“With all of his doctor’s care this year,” the doctor explained, “Bodhi has exceeded his yearly—”

“What doctor’s care?” Wyatt asked, certain that she was talking about the wrong patient. “Bodhi’s as hardy as a horse. I mean a
Clydesdale
. The big one in front. Pulling the beer wagon.”

“He didn’t tell you, then?” she asked.

Wyatt harrumphed. “Tell me what? Pick up my socks? Never feed Diablo scrambled eggs and salsa? What?”

The hand was back on his arm, both comforting and confining. “Your uncle has been struggling with kidney issues that caused extremely high blood pressure and optical migraines that left him very susceptible to… this…”

Diablo snarled at the doctor as she turned to look at the prostrate form of a once-hale man.

Wyatt rubbed his hand across his face, trying to take it all in.

“No. He didn’t.” Then the dominos started knocking into one another. He didn’t know, but he
should
have known. “That’s what the timer was for. Why he wouldn’t let me use his medicine cabinet.”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t taking very good care of himself,” the doctor said as she dropped her hand from his shoulder.

“Neither of us were.”

“If he didn’t tell you, you couldn’t have known.”

But Wyatt shook his head. Bodhi knew everything about him. His favorite breakfast cereal. How he liked to eat off of Toy Story paper plates. Even keeping Mad magazines in the bathroom. And Wyatt hadn’t noticed that his uncle was dying of bum kidneys? That was about as lame as it could get.

“It’s not your fault,” the doctor tried to reassure him. Even though she failed miserably, Wyatt nodded. They didn’t both need to be bummed out to the max.

“There’s just one other little problem left.” The doctor said as she gave a sideways glance to Diablo who promptly raised his hackles, glowering then gave a snarl from the back of his tiny throat. “You see, even though the pooch—”

“Diablo,” Wyatt supplied.

“Yes, even though
Diablo
saved your uncle’s life by hitting his emergency response device, and he is certified as a service dog which means in theory that he can stay in the hospital… He’s just a little…”

“Mean? Vicious? Werewolf-like?” Wyatt offered.

Diablo’s snarl grew to a growl.

“Yes, on all three counts, I’m afraid,” the doctor agreed as she edged a step away from the bed. Like Wyatt said, she looked pretty darn smart. “Ever since your uncle lost consciousness he hasn’t let anyone near. We really need you to run Diablo home so that we can treat your uncle at eight.”

Wyatt gaped. Literally
gaped
. “You want
me
, the one with the bull’s eye on his chest, to catch the spawn of Satan?”

The doctor shrugged which seemed a very undoctorly thing to do. “If you aren’t able to remove him, I think the nurses are going to have to call animal control. And with Diablo’s attitude, a tranquilizer gun is not out of the question.”

Wyatt looked to the little demon dog, who gave one last growl and then nuzzled in next to his uncle. He might be the son of Lucifer himself, but dang, he loved Bodhi one thousand percent.

He sighed as he answered. “I’ll do my best.”

The doctor went to leave, but then turned back. “He said you were a good nephew.” She paused, then continued with a grin, “He knew you’d do the right thing.”

Wyatt felt tears prickle against his eyelids once more. He refused to give into them again. Straightening his back, he replied, “Probably best if you move along. You don’t want to witness this. It might not be pretty.”

Dr. Leighton put her hands out in fashion of surrender as she backed from the room. “I will leave you to your Herculean task.”

* * *

Jazmine pulled into the gate and started up the drive to Andrea’s house in her beat-up gold ‘94 Honda Accord. Well, gold was kind of accurate. A bit more specific would have been gold with rust patches that Jazmine chose to call accents. She loved her car. He had seen her through some really tough times.

No more tough than what Andrea had gone through. Jazmine tilted her rearview mirror to catch the form of the almost napping girl. Her sweet face was still radiant, a slight smile quirking her mouth up at the corners. Jazmine needed kind of “talk through” aka get their stories straight about what had happened today with Andrea before her mother came home, but it could wait.

“We’re almost there,” she called over her shoulder to the sleepy girl, who was strapped into the most amazing booster seat available for purchase. Jazmine was not positive, but she thought the thing might be able to make her a cup of coffee if she could just find the right sequence of straps and latches to pull. The device had more bells and whistles than well… Jazmine’s beat up ‘94 Honda accord.

The wind must have blown as bright yellow and orange leaves swirled on the breeze. The gust shook off nearly the last of remaining leaves on the trees lining the drive. Only a few stubborn auburn leaves still clutched the branches, unwilling to give up their lease on life. Then the foliage disappeared, parting to reveal the stark lines and brilliant glass of the house.

As Jazmine rounded the circular driveway, she was startled to find Ms. Evelyn Stone, Andrea’s mother, stepping out of her Audi, briefcase in hand. Her employer wasn’t supposed to be home for another two hours at the earliest. Since when did Ms. Stone get home early?

As always, Ms. Stone was put together with laser-like precision, outfitted in a tailored charcoal suit with a deep blue blouse, accessorized with the most stunning pair of shoes Jazmine had ever seen. Those shoes probably cost as much as one month of Jazmine’s salary. Maybe two. Jazmine looked again. Okay, probably three.

The woman oozed attraction and intimidation in equal measures.

As Jazmine pulled to a stop, Andrea perked up and looked out the window.

“Mommy!” The girl unbuckled herself with preternatural speed and leapt out of the car, racing toward her mother. Jazmine followed on her heels, listening to the stream of words spilling out of her young charge.

“We went to this thing and there were lots of animals and weird people and some of them were mean but one of them was super nice and his name is Wyatt and he has messy hair but he’s really funny and we talked about Blackie and the field and the tree…”

Andrea’s mother looked down in confusion at her daughter.

“Hold on a second, Andrea. I want to hear all about it. But let’s go inside where it’s warm first.” Ms. Stone guided them to the large double doors that led to the foyer of the house. The businesswoman stated as Andrea ran on before them, “I see she is talking again. I told you it was nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? Weeks without talking? Perhaps Ms. Stone could press wishes into reality at her business, however that wasn’t exactly working on the home front. Jazmine followed Ms. Stone into the entryway, stopping alongside her to pull off her shoes and set them in the precise row that her employer insisted upon. The rest of the house was as pristine as that row of shoes. Clean, sleek modern lines predominated throughout. The entryway had enormous vaulted ceilings, but with a sharpness typically not seen in the Midwest.

It was impressive. It made a statement. Jazmine hated it.

“So, Andrea,” Ms. Stone said as she straightened her daughter’s shoes. “Tell me all about your day,”

“Well, I was missing Blackie, so Jazmine took me to a place where people talk to animals and the animals talk back.”

Ms. Stone quirked an eyebrow at Jazmine in query. Jazmine, put on the spot, stuttered, “We… it… they’re called pet communicators. They’re supposed to be able to interpret for your animal. I saw it in the paper and figured there would be lots of animals there. I thought…” She trailed off as she saw Evelyn’s face cool.

“I see,” Ms. Stone said as she turned back to her daughter. “And what did you do there, Andrea?”

“We talked to people. Lots of people,” Andrea said, talking with her hands as they walked out of the foyer and into the huge living room. “We were seeing if anyone could talk to Blackie. But no one could.”

“That’s because Blackie’s gone, Andrea. We talked about this.” Ms. Stone’s mouth was pinched together, accentuating the lines around her mouth.

“But no, Mommy, then we met Wyatt. He’s funny. And he didn’t want to talk to Blackie at first, but then he did. And he told me all about the field and the tree.”

“What field?” Ms. Stone’s mouth pinched tighter.

“The field where you go when you die. Blackie’s there and so’s Daddy.”

OMG
, Jazmine thought. Actually she thought something much, much worse, but she didn’t even like to have thoughts like that around Andrea. Jazmine gave the little girl every non-verbal signal to stop talking yet Andrea hurried on.