Page 82 of Paging Dr. Breakup
Then she quickly clamped her mouth together but made a slashing motion with her hand. As Calvin’s treating physician, she hadn’t spilled any information, but it was obvious her opinion of his choice of activity.
Deirdre nodded. “Umis right. That’s exactly what I told him. Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.”
“I bet you will,” Mav mumbled. “Speaking of reasons why he shouldn’t risk worsening his head injury, is Calvin doing okay? Unofficially speaking.” He lifted a hand in an aside to Lee. “She and Calvin were on a date last night. News travels fast. I’m not breaching HIPAA here.”
Lee’s bright laugh caught Mav’s attention, and he grinned down at her, obviously smitten.
How was Calvin doing? Deirdre knew exactly how he was doing. How every… inch… of him was doing. Seemed healthy to her.
“He’s well.” She gulped. “Any word from those jerks who hurt Calvin?”
“Nothing. Radio silence. Not even the Alaska state troopers can find them.” Mav tightened his arm around Lee. “Which is good and bad.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Deirdre said. “We’ll have to let law enforcement keep working the case.” She paused as she scanned the event. “Oh, looks like I’m heading over”—she caught sight of several pine-green jacketed participants in a cluster—“thataway.”
“See you later, sis.”
Deirdre wove through the crowd. Every year, all of Yukon Valley as well as the people living in the surrounding villages and homesteads came out to enjoy the unique Breakup Festival. There was a Breakup queen and king contest, as well as a Breakup dance later tonight.
All of the food and drink incorporated the theme of ice, down to the iced cookies and various flavors of icebox pies. Every booth activity had a link to the river or ice as well.
As she approached the Yukon Valley Hospital’s dunk for hospice tank, she laughed as teenagers spurred each other on.
In one booth was Dr. Burmeister, in a wetsuit—smart guy. He was blowing raspberries and making moose ears at the kids while his legs swung from his perch on the platform.
“I delivered some of you people, and I coach the rest of you in basketball. I can’t believe this level of disrespect!” He made his eyes bug out. “I’ve even seen some of you naked!”
The kids roared and hurled balls in manufactured ire, all missing the bull’s-eye in the middle of the bright yellow canvas flap. When the children turned around, hopping up and down and pleading, their parents handed over more tickets so the kids could reload.
In the other booth was Anna Smits, the hospital CEO, who appeared to be in a thermal underwear top over a jog-bra, a crinoline tutu, and a giant sparkly tiara. She also worked the crowd. “Folks, my booth time is ticking down. Hospital staff, now’s your chance. You know you’ve always wanted to dunk on the CEO! It’s for a good cause!”
Jeff Johns, the aging CFO, gamely stepped up, dropped a bunch of tickets in the bucket, and threw. One ball hit the target but didn’t move the lever.
“No fair!” He pointed.
“You have to be accurateandhave power, Jeff. Pencil pushing did not prepare you for this challenge!” Anna egged him on.
He wound up again and hurled a few more balls, finally moving the lever with a loudclangof the bell. Anna dropped into the water with a big splash. The crowd cheered.
Deirdre held her midsection but wasn’t laughing. She couldn’t breathe. The flashbacks to her parents’ icy deaths didn’t get better with each passing year of the dunk for hospice. Logically, Deirdre knew it was not the same. She knew.
But the thought of the fall into frigid water. The inability to breathe. It literally swamped her.
Anna emerged, laughing and gasping as an attendant pulled her out, wrapped her in a blanket, and helped her to the warming tent.
Deirdre faked enthusiasm as she clapped and chatted with several hospital staff and families nearby.
Jeff swaggered and high-fived the teenagers.
The kids redoubled their efforts until Dr. Burmeister hit the water after aclang.
Behind the booth and off to the side, she spied Calvin, peeking out from the tent. Her heart melted like the ice in the river.
He winced in the light and shaded his eyes with a hand.
The brightness had to hurt with the constant lingering headache. Yet he appeared prepared to keep his assignment for the hospice booth.
The hospice team had supported Deirdre through Elijah’s end-of-life care. Hospice brought comfort to so many patients and families at the most difficult time in their lives.
