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“Thanks, Quinn.” Camille waits for the back door to shut before announcing, “It should be me. I’m a nurse, and I’m better equipped to handle the situation.”
“Not happening,” Steady and I say at the same time.
Her response…a glare. I can see the wheels turning in her head. She’s trying to find another reason to be the one to go see our father. Whether it is about keeping me away from them or because of the sheer guilt of not doing right by a dying man, Camille’s going to find a way to go.
“We’ll both go,” I state. Camille looks hopeful. Steady looks murderous.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he shouts. “Do you not remember what she’s been through, all because of them? No way, no how!” He takes a firm stance, his legs slightly parted, hands fisted by his sides.
I turn to him and jerk my head over to the other end of the room, wanting to get him alone. He follows me reluctantly. “I get you, and I agree with you, but you know your wife. She’s going to feel guilty and beat herself up if she doesn’t go. Camille is that kind of woman. That’s why you married her, because she cares about everyone, even her delinquent father.”
He sighs, his head sagging in defeat. He knows I’m right. “I don’t like this. And neither of you goes alone.”
“I’ll do one better. Wildcard is checking things out. Saint’s going to review your father’s medical assessment. We won’t make a move until we hear from them.”
“Fine. But I go on record as saying that I hate that woman and all she stands for,” he grits out, lower and quieter and for my ears only.
“You have every right to feel that way. Camille and I do too. What makes us different from the witch we call a mother is that we still have compassion.”
“That’s done Camille in every time.”
“This time, Camille has us. She’s never alone with them, we’ll make sure of that.”
Not long after we speak to Camille about our plan, Wildcard shows up with Saint. Quinn and Kyrian have come back inside, and it seems that my nephew is smitten with my girl. He drags her across the room to his building blocks. Kyrian plops himself down, tugging on Quinn’s hand for her to join him. She crawls next to him, and he giggles when she makes her blocks fall on purpose for him to rebuild for her.
It’s too soon to even think about, but still, I can see her being a fantastic mother. I like the idea of her carrying our baby, then watching her rock him or her to sleep. If it’s a girl, I’d want her to have her mother’s beautiful curls and sweet disposition. If it’s a boy, he’ll need to have my grit, but his mama’s eyes.
Wildcard’s voice brings me back to the problem at hand. “Yo, bro. A little attention over here,” he jests. I roll my eyes at him and wait for him to go on. “There is a Mr. Turner, registered at that hospital. That much is true. He’s been there for a week. The hospital confirms he was brought in for what they think was a heart attack. He’s been under a Dr. Vandorf’s care.”
“He’s a good doctor in a shit hospital. Met him a couple of times, and he’s thorough,” Saint adds.
“Why is he working there if he’s that good?” I ask.
“Because he believes that even those without funds should have the right medical care. I’m trying to get him to spend time at the clinic because of his high ethics,” Saint answers.
“Sounds like my father is getting what he needs.”
“Yes and no. He’s getting a quality doctor with the meds he needs to keep him stable. After taking a look at his records and X-rays, I’d say he needs surgery. He’s got clogged valves and at best will last a month, maybe two. Shit! It’s a crapshoot. The surgery is costly, and he’ll need rehab. According to his chart, he’s refused,” Saint tells us, his gaze resting on Camille.
“What? Why?” Camille jumps in.
“I don’t know. He won’t tell Zane.”
“Zane?” Steady asks.
“Dr. Vandorf,” Saint clarifies. “I’ve called him, explained our situation. He’s sympathetic to our problem. He did tell me that short of driving him to the hospital, his wife hasn’t been around to check on him in person, but she’s called a couple of times.”
“He’s there alone,” Camille says sadly. Steady has every right to worry about Camille’s soft underbelly. She’d move heaven and earth to help.
“What’s the plan?” Wildcard asks.
“The three of us are going to the hospital to talk to this doctor. We’ll get a better sense of what’s necessary and what our options are,” I say.
“Four of us,” Saint says. “Zane and I can look at this from a medical perspective.”
“Five.” Quinn arrives behind me, carrying Kyrian on her hip. “You’re not doing this without me.”
“Babe, this is too much to ask.”
