These past few years, she’d only heard snippets of information about him, mostly through her brother, Brady. And though she’d desperately longed to ask him more in-depth questions, she’d not done so. Johnny had never wanted anyone, especially Brady, to know about their short-lived affair and she’d always respected his wishes. But there had been many occasions she’d wanted to break down to one of her sisters, her mother, even her grandmother and pour out her feelings. Maybe they would think it a bit scandalous that she’d loved a man so different from them, but they would never condemn her for it. No, they were her family and they would console and support her in whatever way they could.
But discussing the situation with anyone wouldn’t help to change matters, she realized. And for the past five years, she’d tried to move on and hope that someday she would meet a man strong enough to drown out Johnny’s memory. So far that hadn’t happened. And she wasn’t really expecting it to. The weak flicker of a candle couldn’t take the place of an all-out blaze.
When she eventually parked in front of the Chino home, the dogs were the first to greet her, but this time their barks were only halfhearted and their tales were wagging.
Bridget didn’t wait for Johnny to step onto the porch; instead she snatched up her bag with the medicine and hurried toward the house. She was about to rap her knuckles on the facing of the screen door when the inner door creaked open and Charlie Chino stood staring out at her.
“Good morning, Mr. Chino.”
He pushed the screen wide and gestured for her to enter the house. Bridget stepped inside and waited while Johnny’s grandfather dealt with the door. As he did, she took note of his tall, straight posture, the long gray braid lying against the middle of his back. She was glad to see he was very agile and alert for someone his age. In fact, he hardly looked a day older than the last time she’d spoken with him.
“Naomi is awake,” he said. “She’s been asking for you.”
Doctors had rules. They weren’t supposed to get emotionally involved with their patients. But this was Naomi, the woman who’d mothered Johnny from the time he was an infant, and the fact that she was reaching out for Bridget caused her heart to wince. “I have more medicine to help her.”
Expecting the old man to immediately usher her back to the bedroom, she was surprised when he turned his quiet, wrinkled face toward hers.
“Naomi didn’t care if she got well. Until you came last night. I thank you.”
Bridget reached for Charlie’s big bony hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad I could help, Mr. Chino. Naomi has always been special to me. And so have you. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she gets well.”
She didn’t bother adding that Johnny was equally special to her. The old man didn’t have to hear spoken words to see or understand things. She figured last night her feelings for his grandson had shown on her face and Charlie had read them clearly.
Charlie nodded and gestured toward the doorway leading to the back part of the house. As the two of them passed through the kitchen, Bridget was pleased to feel the house was somewhat warmer than it had been last night, which meant that Johnny was doing his best to follow the instructions she’d given him.
Glancing to her left, she noticed the table where she and Johnny had sat drinking their coffee was now cluttered with breakfast leftovers. Two plates smeared with congealed egg yolk sat among cups, jelly jars and other condiments. The sight reminded her that she’d not yet taken time for food. But apparently Johnny and his grandfather had already eaten.
She was wondering where he was and why he’d not met her at the door, when Charlie seemed to read her mind and answer her unspoken questions.
“Johnny went to Mescalero for things at the grocery store. He’ll be back soon.”
“I won’t be leaving before he gets back,” she assured the old man.
Inside Naomi’s bedroom, she quickly went to the woman’s side. After switching on the nearby lamp, she gathered her equipment together. As she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Naomi’s arm, she was relieved to see the woman’s eyes appeared a bit more clear this morning.
“How are you feeling, Naomi?” Bridget asked.
Naomi gave her a faint nod and Bridget finished noting the blood pressure reading before she asked, “Do you hurt anywhere?”
Naomi laid a hand on her chest and then slid the same hand slowly to her stomach.
“Have you had anything to drink or eat since last night?” Bridget continued with her questions.
“Cider. And a little goat’s milk.”
Bridget smiled softly at the woman. “Well, that’s better than nothing. By this afternoon I want you to try to eat something, though. Will you try?”
Naomi let out a weary sigh. “I’ll try.”
Bridget took the woman’s temperature, then got down to the all-important job of listening to her lungs. She didn’t hear the huge improvement she would have liked, but Naomi would need much more medication before Bridget expected to see a turnaround for the better. For now, the woman’s condition hadn’t worsened overnight and for that much Bridget was very thankful.
Once she put away her stethoscope, she explained to Naomi that she’d brought a bag of medicine for her and that she needed to fix a needle in her hand for her to receive it. Expecting the woman to put up a fuss and probably refuse the IV medications, she was pleasantly surprised when Johnny’s grandmother agreed.
“My hide is tough, Bridget. But you can try,” she acceded.
Not wasting any time, Bridget quickly gathered the needed paraphernalia from her bag. Thankfully, near the head of the bed, there was a hook on the wall holding Naomi’s housecoat. After removing the garment, she used it to hang the bag of medications, then went to work affixing a small shunt to the woman’s hand.
“This might sting a little,” Bridget warned as she plucked Naomi’s hand from atop the cover. “I’ll try to be as easy as I can.”
Starting an IV was something Bridget hadn’t done since way back in her intern days. Now that she had her own private practice, she had nurses to do such tasks for her and she couldn’t help but wish her sister Maura was here to do this one.
But fortunately she didn’t have any trouble finding an appropriate vein or positioning the needle. However, as she smoothed the medical tape across the top of Naomi’s fragile hand, Bridget had plenty of problems with the unbidden thoughts rushing to the forefront of her mind.
This woman hadn’t always been old, or wrinkled or ill, Bridget thought. At one time her bony hand had been plump and smooth, her face and figure full of youth. At the age of forty-three she’d given birth to her and Charlie’s only child, a daughter named Scarlett. A miracle in itself, considering they’d already passed two decades of a childless marriage.
Five years ago, in spite of Johnny’s misgivings, Bridget had made a few visits to the Chino home. She and Naomi were very different people, but that hadn’t stopped them from taking an instant liking to each other. Naomi had talked with her about many things, one of them being Johnny’s mother. She’d told Bridget that while she’d been pregnant, she’d
