in no hurry, Seymour.” Chastain’s tone matched the cold fury in the older surgeon’s eyes. “He died right after you walked out of the room. He lost too much blood.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Seymour pounded his fist on the edge of the sink.
“The family’s in the waiting room,” Chastain said in an accusatory tone. “You’d best go talk to them. They’ve already waited a long time.”
Minutes later, Seymour shuffled toward the waiting area where the three members of the Dodson family sat, their hearts registering in their eyes.
“Doctor Ramsey?” Michael Dodson rose, fear in his voice. “How’s Dad? Is he—”
Seymour forced himself to face the younger man. “There’s no easy way to say this, son. Your father didn’t make it. I’m sorry—”
“But what happened?” Michael asked in a screeching voice as his mother and sister broke into hysterical sobs and moans. Michael advanced until he was within touching distance of Seymour, his stance threatening. “You said he’d be all right.”
Seymour stepped back, then began trying to explain, but words failed him. He mumbled something about blood pressure.
“Sir,” Michael interrupted, “you’re not making any sense at all. In fact, you’re slurring your words. What’s wrong with you? You’re acting crazy.” he said incredulously. “Don’t tell me you operated on my father in this condition.”
Seymour rubbed his forehead. “I did no such—”
The sentence was never completed. Seymour’s eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the floor.
Two
The heat was sweltering.
Maci had taken that into consideration earlier when she’d slipped into a peach-colored sundress and a pair of strappy sandals.
Summer in south Louisiana was notorious for its combined heat and humidity, but this year both were setting records daily. She couldn’t seem to get cool no matter where she was.
Despite the cold air pouring out of the air-conditioning vents, Maci found herself perspiring. Maybe that was because she was upset. Since she and Seymour married a little over two years ago they had rarely disagreed.
That had changed after she had learned of her husband’s secret dependence on prescription drugs. Lately she’d been at her wits’ end as to what to do about it, especially after he’d lost a patient and friend on the operating table.
Only after that tragedy did Seymour admit he’d blacked out while talking to the family and that both he and the incident were under investigation.
Once she had gotten past her stunned horror, Maci hadn’t wanted to know the dirty details associated with his vile habit. Instead, she had pleaded with her husband to seek help immediately. She feared for his well-being as well as that of his patients.
During the past three weeks, Maci had thought he’d kept his promise, but then last night, for the first time ever, Seymour had come home on a drug-induced high. He’d previously hidden the effects of the drugs from her and the rest of the world, but now his habit was known, he no longer seemed to care about covering it up.
That fact alone caused her to confront him. “How dare you come home in this condition?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”
“You damn sure do,” she lashed back. “Now that I know what you’re up to, it’s obvious you’re high.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Don’t insult me, Seymour. I may have been gullible in the past, but no longer.”
He smiled a cherubic smile. “You’re getting yourself all worked up for nothing, my dear.” He paused, his grin still in place. “I don’t know about you, but I’m calling it a night.”
Maci’s insides shook with anger, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Once her husband dug his heels in, there was no way she could penetrate his steel facade.
She was now at a loss as to how to reach Seymour. Their personal relationship and home life would soon suffer. Maci feared that if Seymour continued down this destructive path, the man she’d married would be lost to her forever.
Again she knew he needed professional help.
Maci paused in her thoughts and peered at her watch. Seymour was due home from the hospital any time now to join her for a late breakfast. She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.
“Mrs. Ramsey, Jonah’s about to go down for his nap.”
A smile transformed Maci’s strained features when she glanced at Liz Byford, her son’s nanny. “I’m right behind you.”
When Maci walked into the nursery, her baby, almost entering into the terrible twos phase, was bouncing up and down in his bed and grinning.
“Hey, big boy, what are you doing?”
“Down, Mommy,” he cried, reaching out his arms.
Maci gave him a bear hug, then a kiss on the cheek. “It’s time for your nap.”
He shook his head. “No, Mommy, no.”
“Yes, Jonah, yes.” She grinned. “How about I hold you and read you a story?” This was a tried and proven trick to get him to sleep.
His grin widened and his bouncing increased.
“Whoa, there, tiger. Mommy can’t lift you unless you settle down.”
“I’ll eat my lunch while you’re with him,” Liz said, blowing the child a kiss before closing the door behind her.
Maci lifted Jonah out of his bed, nuzzling him on the neck. He smelled so good, felt so good, she wanted to squeeze him into her. And she did for a second. Then he started squirming.
“Book.”
“That’s right,” she said, sitting in the rocker and grabbing his favorite nursery rhymes. “We’ll read this together, squirt.”
Five minutes later, Jonah was sound asleep, but Maci continued to rock him, loving the feel of him in her arms.
Her gaze rested on his perfect little features and tears misted her eyes. He looked so much like her it was uncanny. Yet he had the Ramsey build. When he grew up—she smiled inwardly at that coined phrase—Jonah would be tall and thin.
In her mind her son would make a statement in this world. She would see to that. He was the love of her life. And the purpose for her life.
She was blessed that Seymour felt the same way. He, too, doted on Jonah. Thinking of her husband removed the smile and tossed her thoughts back into chaos. How could
