Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Yeah. Didn’t want to bother you or Monroe,” Worth said to Holden. “And I’m not exactly back or working here. Just helping out in a pinch.”
“Well, you look back.” Holden continued to study Worth like he expected a camera crew to announce a prank at any moment. Then he took a breath, nodding like he’d arrived at some sort of conclusion. “Come over for dinner tonight. Both of you.” He pointed at me, but I wasn’t certain I would have been included had I not been standing right there. There were moments when the five-year age difference still loomed large, and I felt like an outsider looking in. Holden glanced over at Cal. “Cal makes some amazing barbeque chicken. I’ll call Monroe and Knox.”
“I’m not sure Worth is up to a party.” I spoke up because no way was Worth going to admit any sign of weakness.
“It’s not a party.” Holden held up a hand.
“It’s fine. Happy to catch up.” Predictably, Worth went along with Holden’s plan, even though his expression was wooden. The others probably missed his shifty eyes and jittery hands as he turned to pet Buttercup in Marta’s arms, but I picked up on his discomfort loud and clear. I was about to say something when Holden pointed at Buttercup.
“Whose dog is that?” he asked as Marta transferred Buttercup to Worth’s eager arms.
“No one’s,” Worth said at the same moment I said, “Worth’s.”
“I can’t keep her.” Worth gave a heartbreakingly sad sigh. “Sam found her last night.”
“Busy night.” Holden’s voice was drier than usual, undoubtedly trying to make sense of Worth’s reappearance, same as the rest of us. “You need help getting the dog to the shelter?”
“No.” I spoke quickly. “We’ll work out Buttercup’s ownership later.” I waved a hand before Worth could lodge another protest. “For now, though, we need a favor. Could you guys dogsit while I take Worth to…an appointment.”
I hedged at the last second, not wanting to violate Worth’s privacy or trust.
“Are you okay?” Holden asked sharply, picking up on what I’d left unsaid.
“Fine.” Worth’s chiseled jaw took on a stubborn tilt I was coming to know too well.
“I’m off today. The dog can hang with me.” Cal, Holden’s boyfriend and former SEAL rescue diver, wasn’t much on talking, but when he did speak, people tended to listen. And either he’d forgiven me for not announcing Worth’s arrival in Safe Harbor or was quietly plotting my doom, not unlike my cat. “You can pick her back up at dinner.”
“Sure.” Worth nodded but didn’t break a smile, instead looking nervously down at Buttercup.
“Or we can get Buttercup sooner if you don’t feel like being social.” I made the offer, knowing full well he would shake his head.
“It’ll be okay.”
I wished Worth could believe his own words, a feeling that persisted as we sent Holden and Cal on their way with cold brew and Buttercup and a host of dog instructions from Worth. He stayed quiet as I handed the shop over to my crew, hoping they could hold down the fort long enough for me to get Worth seen at urgent care.
As I’d threatened, I went with him to the exam room so he could see Dr. Washington. Whitney, an army reserve doctor, was more Cal’s friend than mine, but she came in the shop often enough that I considered her more than an acquaintance. Worth didn’t object, and if the doctor thought my presence odd, she was enough of a pro not to let it show.
Whitney bundled Worth off for a host of blood work and tests to rule out things like cardiac problems causing the chest pain and nausea. Finally, a few hours after we’d arrived at urgent care, Dr. Washington returned with a diagnosis and a game plan.
“It’s just an ulcer?” Mouth twisting, Worth didn’t sound at all relieved. “I’m not dying?”
“There’s no just with an ulcer.” Dr. Washington’s tight curls bounced with every word. “You’re going to need medication and to be careful with your diet while you heal.” Eyes narrowing, she peered carefully at Worth. “Did you want a more serious diagnosis?”
Her voice was a study in neutrality, neither accusing nor judging, merely opening up a conversation with Worth, who exhaled hard.
“Want? Not exactly. Expected? Maybe.” He spoke directly to his clasped hands in his lap. “Thought…maybe it would be easier. Just fade away.”
I managed to avoid a horrified gasp by digging my fingers into my thigh.
“I understand.” Dr. Washington kept up a neutral yet compassionate tone. “And not surprising considering your score on the depression quiz the nurse had you fill out.”
“Yeah.” Worth twisted his hands this way and that.
“Here’s what I’d like to do. In addition to the ulcer medications, I’d like to enroll you in an outpatient depression management program and start you on an antidepressant.”
“I don’t need…” Worth glanced at me. I took the opportunity to give him a pointed stare, reminding him why I was there. He huffed a defeated breath. “I don’t have insurance.”