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Nate stared at her mother as if she’d grown two heads. Welcome to my world. “Momma,” Lauren said, “Nate and I…um, we really didn’t hang out that much in high school.”

“Why not?” Momma patted her bobbed hair. “A handsome, smart, nice young man like you? I bet all the girls were crazy about you.”

Nate’s face colored. Please stop talking, Lauren prayed, but, of course, she didn’t.

“You know, Dr. Miller, my beautiful daughter here is single now. And she’s a successful businesswoman. Don’t break my heart and tell me you’re not available.”

“Momma!” Lauren stood and went to stand by Daddy. “I think Dr. Miller is all done here, right?” She gave Nate a beseeching look. He nodded, mumbled something under his breath, then scooped up the disposable suture tray.

Daddy flexed his hand, moving it from side to side. “Feels okay,” he said.

Nate went back to his computer screen and began typing. “Your tetanus shot is up to date, Mr. Handy, so we’re good there.” He searched the screen some more, then frowned. “It says here you’re on blood pressure medication, as well as—”

“His special vitamin,” Momma said. She winked at Nate. Thankfully, Daddy didn’t seem to notice.

His special vitamin. Oh, lord. It was the term Momma used for Daddy’s Alzheimer drug, something that was supposed to lessen the symptoms of memory loss and confusion.

Nate cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic, just to be on the safe side.” He begin typing something into the screen. “Normally, I’d prescribe something for pain as well, but if you can handle the discomfort with something like Tylenol, that might be best. If it becomes a problem, then come back and see me and we can discuss it.”

“Sure,” Daddy said. “I’m not one to take too many pills.”

“Glad to hear that.” Nate stood. “Bianca’s going to put a dressing on those stitches. She’ll give you instructions about how to take care of them and when to come back to get those taken out.” He glanced between Momma and Lauren for a few seconds, as if he was trying to figure something out, then his gaze finally settled on Lauren. “May I speak to you for a moment? In private?”

Momma practically pushed Lauren out the door. “You two young people go off now and reminisce. I’ll just stay with your Daddy and listen to what the nurse has to say.”

*~*~*

Nate led Lauren to his office, a small but nicely decorated room with a big oak desk and a couple of comfy chairs. He sat behind the desk and motioned for her to be seated as well. She made herself comfortable and looked up at the wall where his diplomas were displayed. His medical school diploma was one of those big fancy affairs with Florida State University embellished on the top. Nathanial Richard Miller. Lauren didn’t think she’d ever heard his middle name before.

He opened up his laptop (did he always have that with him?) and studied the screen for a couple of minutes, then looked at her.

“You’re making me nervous here,” she joked.

He didn’t smile. But then, did Nate Miller ever smile? “Is your father being properly supervised at home?” he asked.

What? “I don’t understand what you mean,” Lauren said.

“The wound your father sustained is suspiciously close enough to his wrist area that I have to wonder if perhaps this window accident, wasn’t an accident at all. I’ve read your father’s records. He was an accountant. Owned his own firm in Panama City. He was a very successful businessman and now he’s—”

“And now he’s retired,” Lauren snapped. “What are you trying to say?”

“Please don’t be offended, I’m only trying to do what’s in your father’s best interests. It must be difficult to go from being in total control of your life to having absolutely no control at all.”

“I—he’s managing. We all are.”

“He’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. According to our records your father has seen several specialists in Pensacola. You’re an intelligent woman. You have to know there’s no cure for this disease. So does he.”

“But there’s lots of research going on, and he hasn’t…progressed so badly that it couldn’t be reversed. I mean, every day you hear about someone who wasn’t expected to walk again and now they’re running marathons!”

“Agreed. Hope is a powerful thing to hold onto. But you also have to be realistic. I think your father needs to be on an anti-depressant. Maybe your mother does, too. Her reaction to the situation is a little odd, to be honest. Clearly, your father is still in the early stages. He should be included in his plan of care, not coddled like some child.”

Lauren stilled. They’d discussed anti-depressants before with Doc Morrison, and Lauren knew that eventually Daddy would need one. But he’d insisted he didn’t need “any more dang drugs.” And as for Momma? Ha! Good luck with anyone telling Momma what she needed. “Are you serious?”

He frowned. “Did you think I wasn’t? Frankly, I’m surprised Dr. Morrison hasn’t alrea

dy suggested it.” He looked at her behind those designer glasses of his. Lauren had a sudden urge to snatch them off his nose and grind them to the ground. But that was childish. Nate Miller’s bedside manner left a lot to be desired, but he was just looking out for Daddy’s best interests.

She folded her hands in her lap and tried for a pleasant expression. “Thank you for taking good care of my father today. My mother and I appreciate it. But I think we’ll wait and let Doc Morrison handle this.”

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