Page 45 of A Taste of Chardonnay

Chardonnay: *eyeroll emoji*

“Mr. Noah?” a doctor likely in his mid-forties asked.

I shoved my phone in my pocket. “That would be me. How’s he doing?”

“His vitals are okay, but we don’t know how long he was exposed to the gas, so that makes me hesitant to send him home. Does he live with you?”

“No, he lives alone.”

“Then I think we should keep him overnight to be on the safe side. I also wanted to talk to you about his cognitive decline.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I had to call his doctor to see what medications he’s on. After today’s incident, he doesn’t recommend Ron be on his own anymore.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that his mental state isn’t going to get better. If anything, it’ll get worse. There are meds and trials he can apply for to slow the progression, but the truth is, this is just the beginning of a very long road. You’re better off preparing for it now.”

“I own a business. I’m barely home as it is.”

“You can hire a nurse. His insurance might cover a percentage, but there will be out-of-pocket costs associated with it. You need to determine if you can be his sole provider or if you’ll need to bring someone else, like a nurse, on.”

I could barely process what this doctor was saying. A few weeks ago, I rarely thought about Ron. We lived in the same world, the same town, but he did his thing, and I did mine. Now I had to determine if I’d be his sole provider.

“He seems fine, according to the people who are around him. Most of the time, at least. He has episodes.”

“Yes, but his episodes are putting him in unsafe situations. For instance, today’s incident. He also has high blood pressure and is on medication for it, but I don’t believe he’s taking the meds. He needs someone to monitor his medication intake to make sure he’s taking everything.”

The doctor became the teacher in the old Peanuts cartoons, his words blurring together in a cacophony.

I nodded when I thought appropriate, still not able to process. Eventually, the doctor stopped talking. I shook his hand and thanked him. Ron was asleep, so I didn’t stick around. I left the hospital and hopped in my truck, sitting there for a few moments in the parking lot.

What the fuck was I going to do?

I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the space. I guess I could get a nurse, but I didn’t even know the first thing about it. The doctor said there’d be paperwork to complete for all the insurance bullshit. I hated fucking paperwork.

My head wandered, and the next thing I knew, I was in Chardonnay’s driveway. I had little recollection of actually getting there.

It was way past sunset. She stood beneath the porch light, puffs of breath vanishing into the cold air while Jack sniffed the perimeter. Franc and Laurent had talked about how great it was to come home to their person after a long shitty day, and I never understood it, preferring the quiet of my own home, but now, watching Char patiently waiting for my pup, her cheeks pink from the frigid night, I got it. Just seeing her eased the tension in my shoulders.

When I parked, Jack came running over. I bent down, giving him a proper hello. Last night I left him to fend for himself, and today, I left him again. I’d have to buy him some of those treats he liked to make up for it.

“You okay?” Char asked as I made my way toward her.

“Sorry it’s so late.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll get the animals and get out of your way.”

“Or you can stay.”

“You want me to stay?” Right now, she was the only thing keeping me sane. I never wanted to need anyone, but I needed her. I needed to sink inside of her and forget about my day. Forget about my life as it currently was.

“You look like you need to talk.”

I didn’t need to talk. I needed to forget. “I look like I’ve been sitting in a hospital for five hours.”

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