Page 62 of Fractured Frets

Valerie’s eyes shot open. She swung her head toward me. A nervous flicker shot across her gaze. I threw her an I’m-onto-you smirk. “Does she need to reschedule?”

“Yes.” Genuine concern filtered through Avani’s voice. “It’s urgent I check her bloods, and we run more tests to make sure her new meds are controlling her pneumonitis. With the buildup of fluid in her lungs worsening, she seriously needs to consider surgery. Can she come in on Monday at two?”

“Hold on a sec.” I jerked my chin toward Valerie. It wasn’t good news that Valerie’s lungs were getting worse. “Can you make the doctor’s on Monday at two?”

Before she even answered, I scanned Maddy’s calendar that synced with her mom’s appointment schedule. My God, Maddy had a lot of items marked across the month. Her calendar was as bad as mine. I homed in on next week. The date was free.

I met Valerie’s gaze. The color had drained from her face, but she nodded.

I put the phone back to my ear. “Yep. That’s good. If there are any issues, we’ll call.”

“Excellent,” Avani said. “I’ll see her then. Have a good weekend. ’Night.”

“Thanks for calling. Ciao.”

As I ended the call, the screen returned to Maddy’s calendar. Today’s date caught my eye. Dr. Raithna was the only appointment listed for Valerie. So why did she miss it? Where had she gone? Other than out drinking somewhere.

Maddy came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on the back of her shorts. “Who was on the phone? What’s up? ”

I walked over to Valerie’s recliner and stood in front of her. I folded my arms and hit Valerie with a hard glare. “I think we’d both like to know. That was Dr. Raithna. Why didn’t you go to your appointment this afternoon?”

Valerie shrugged one shoulder and smoothed her hands over the throw resting across her lap. “I didn’t feel like going. She just wants me to have surgery.”

“Well, you should have the procedure. It’d make you better.” Frustration cut into Maddy’s calm, controlled tone. “Mom, you can’t miss your appointments. If you didn’t go to the doctor, where have you been this afternoon?” Maddy sank onto the edge of the coffee table again.

Valerie lifted her chin. No hint of sorrow or regret touched her face. “I went to Santa Monica for a couple hours.”

“So that’s why your rash is bad?” I circled my finger toward Valerie’s face. “You’ve been out in the sun?” One downside of lupus was dark pigmentations that flared with too much exposure.

She dabbed her fingertips across her cheeks, underneath her eyes. “Is it? Damn. I wasn’t outside for long.”

Maddy sucked in a sharp breath. Her jaw tensed and ticked. It was as if she was holding onto to her usual serenity by a thin thread. “You know you’re not supposed to be out in the sun. God, Mom.” Anguish shot through her voice. “When are you going to listen to the doctors? Help yourself? Do the right thing for once?”

Valerie sank deeper into her recliner and drew the throw up to her chest. “Maddy, I’m tired. Tired of being sick. Of going to work, then to the doctor’s, then physical therapy. It never ends. I just wanted a day out. A day off from worrying about everything.”

“We’d all like that.” Maddy’s eyes glassed over as she shook her head. “So you went out drinking?”

“Lunch.” Valerie stretched and massaged her knuckles like she often did to ease her joint pain.

“Where was Bridget?” Maddy asked.

“With me.” Valerie swayed and smiled. “I took her to The Penthouse for lunch. We had wine. I had a few cocktails. We walked along the beach for half an hour, then came home.”

“What?” Maddy’s brows pinched together. “You took Bridget to one of the most expensive restaurants in Santa Monica?”

“Yes.” Valerie nodded. “As a thank you for all she does for me.”

“Shit,” Maddy mumbled and sank two inches. “That’snice of you, but she should know better than to take you out in the sun. To let you drink. I should fire her for not being a responsible caretaker.”

“No. No. No.” Valerie shot forward and held up one palm. “Don’t do that. She’s a great nurse.”

“A good nurse wouldn’t let you do that shit, Mom. I pay her to look after you. Take you to appointments. Check in on you. Not encourage your drinking. Your health comes first.” Maddy held out her upturned palm toward me. “Can I have my phone, please? I’ll talk to Bridget. This can’t happen again.”

As I passed Maddy her cell phone, Valerie caught Maddy’s hand, covering it with her palm. “Please don’t,” she pleaded. “Bridget did nothing wrong. She only had one drink. This won’t happen again. I promise.”

I didn’t believe a word that came out of Valerie’s mouth. But Maddy’s frustrations hadn’t eased. I stepped over to her and rubbed her shoulders and the back of her neck. The knots were tight and twisted. I worked my thumbs into the pressure points in slow, steady circles, digging and massaging the tension away. “That better?”

“Yeah.” She leaned into my touch and stretched her neck from side to side. But then she let out an overwhelmed sigh. “Fine, Mom. I’ll let this pass because I’m tired too. I’m tired of worrying about you. Tired of rushing home from Vancouver. Tired of you ignoring the doctor’s advice...and me. I can’t do this anymore. What’s it going to take for you to change?”

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