says that stuff is going to clog your arteries .
In his opinion, Auntie D. read too many health magazines. “She can’t be mad if she’s the one who overslept,” Quinn pointed out.
Danny’s cocky grin boosted his mood. They headed into the kitchen, two conspirators in search of real man-food.
Coffee was the first order of business, but as Quinn was frying up the bacon, Delores came out of her bedroom. “Good morning,” she said in a strained tone, completely oblivious to their sacrilegious breakfast fare.
“Good morning.” Quinn frowned. “What’s wrong? You look like you haven’t slept much.”
“I’ve been sick to my stomach half the night,” she confessed. Delores sat down hard in a chair at the kitchen table, as if her legs had refused to support her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Alarmed, he crossed over to her. “Do you have a fever?”
“Not according to the thermometer,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “But my whole body aches and the nausea is nonstop.”
Quinn tried to hide the extent of his concern. Delores could simply have flu. Yet as much as she insisted on eating healthily, she was in her early sixties. Maybe this was a prelude to a heart condition? “When’s the last time you’ve seen a doctor?” he asked.
She winced a little. “Close to eighteen months. I’m a bit overdue.”
It had been eighteen months since Celeste had died. She’d put off going to the doctor because of him and Danny. “Not anymore. You’re going in today,” Quinn said firmly. “I’ll take you myself.”
“Nonsense. All this fuss for a touch of flu.” Her voice did seem stronger. “Finish making breakfast. I’ll be fine.”
Quinn glanced at his son, who was watching the adults with wide eyes. Since he knew Danny was hungry, he would finish breakfast first. But Delores was going in to see someone today, whether she liked it or not.
“Danny, come over here and help me with the toast,” Quinn said, distracting his son with the task. “Delores,would you like to try some toast? It might settle your stomach.”
“Sure,” she said gamely, although the expression on her face was one of hesitation.
“Danny, will you make five pieces of toast?” he asked.
Yes . Danny nodded. He used the step stool to reach the toaster on the counter, propping his crutches nearby. Quinn continued to chat as they worked, Danny interjecting with the occasional sign language question, but Quinn knew his son was still worried about Delores.
He was concerned, too.
She seemed better after she’d eaten some toast. Quinn relaxed a bit as he and Danny finished breakfast and then took care of cleaning up the dishes as well. But it was only about an hour later when he heard Delores being sick again in the bathroom.
Danny was playing video games in the living room, so Quinn knocked softly on the door. “Delores? Are you all right?”
There was a long silence before she finally answered the door, looking pale and shaky. “I don’t think so,” she admitted.
“That’s it,” he decided. “I’m taking you to the ED now.”
She didn’t argue and that was nearly as alarming as listening to her being sick.
Quinn tried to hide the extent of his concern from his son. “Hey, Danny, get your hat and coat. We’re going to take Auntie D. to see the doctor so she can get some medicine for her tummyache.”
Okay. Danny readily abandoned his video-game controls to hunt for his outerwear.
Quinn knew he could have called for an ambulance, but Delores wasn’t that badly off and his house was only five minutes from the hospital. They’d be there quicker than it would take for the ambulance to get dispatched. He helped Delores with her coat and then bundled Danny, his crutches and Delores into the car.
At the hospital, he took Danny inside with Delores, because he didn’t have much of a choice. The staff immediately put Delores on a heart monitor and drew some blood to check her electrolytes. Shortly
In his opinion, Auntie D. read too many health magazines. “She can’t be mad if she’s the one who overslept,” Quinn pointed out.
Danny’s cocky grin boosted his mood. They headed into the kitchen, two conspirators in search of real man-food.
Coffee was the first order of business, but as Quinn was frying up the bacon, Delores came out of her bedroom. “Good morning,” she said in a strained tone, completely oblivious to their sacrilegious breakfast fare.
“Good morning.” Quinn frowned. “What’s wrong? You look like you haven’t slept much.”
“I’ve been sick to my stomach half the night,” she confessed. Delores sat down hard in a chair at the kitchen table, as if her legs had refused to support her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Alarmed, he crossed over to her. “Do you have a fever?”
“Not according to the thermometer,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “But my whole body aches and the nausea is nonstop.”
Quinn tried to hide the extent of his concern. Delores could simply have flu. Yet as much as she insisted on eating healthily, she was in her early sixties. Maybe this was a prelude to a heart condition? “When’s the last time you’ve seen a doctor?” he asked.
She winced a little. “Close to eighteen months. I’m a bit overdue.”
It had been eighteen months since Celeste had died. She’d put off going to the doctor because of him and Danny. “Not anymore. You’re going in today,” Quinn said firmly. “I’ll take you myself.”
“Nonsense. All this fuss for a touch of flu.” Her voice did seem stronger. “Finish making breakfast. I’ll be fine.”
Quinn glanced at his son, who was watching the adults with wide eyes. Since he knew Danny was hungry, he would finish breakfast first. But Delores was going in to see someone today, whether she liked it or not.
“Danny, come over here and help me with the toast,” Quinn said, distracting his son with the task. “Delores,would you like to try some toast? It might settle your stomach.”
“Sure,” she said gamely, although the expression on her face was one of hesitation.
“Danny, will you make five pieces of toast?” he asked.
Yes . Danny nodded. He used the step stool to reach the toaster on the counter, propping his crutches nearby. Quinn continued to chat as they worked, Danny interjecting with the occasional sign language question, but Quinn knew his son was still worried about Delores.
He was concerned, too.
She seemed better after she’d eaten some toast. Quinn relaxed a bit as he and Danny finished breakfast and then took care of cleaning up the dishes as well. But it was only about an hour later when he heard Delores being sick again in the bathroom.
Danny was playing video games in the living room, so Quinn knocked softly on the door. “Delores? Are you all right?”
There was a long silence before she finally answered the door, looking pale and shaky. “I don’t think so,” she admitted.
“That’s it,” he decided. “I’m taking you to the ED now.”
She didn’t argue and that was nearly as alarming as listening to her being sick.
Quinn tried to hide the extent of his concern from his son. “Hey, Danny, get your hat and coat. We’re going to take Auntie D. to see the doctor so she can get some medicine for her tummyache.”
Okay. Danny readily abandoned his video-game controls to hunt for his outerwear.
Quinn knew he could have called for an ambulance, but Delores wasn’t that badly off and his house was only five minutes from the hospital. They’d be there quicker than it would take for the ambulance to get dispatched. He helped Delores with her coat and then bundled Danny, his crutches and Delores into the car.
At the hospital, he took Danny inside with Delores, because he didn’t have much of a choice. The staff immediately put Delores on a heart monitor and drew some blood to check her electrolytes. Shortly
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