“How could she get something so serious, just like that?” Nealy said.
“No, not just like that. She's had a lot of symptoms she tried treating with aspirin. Sometimes people think if they ignore something, it will go away. This is not going to go away. She doesn't want to go in an ambulance to spook the workers, she said. So, Mr. Littletree, if you can carry her down to the car, I'll take her in myself. She wants both of you to stay here with her daughter.”
“She doesn't want us to go with her?” Nealy asked, dismay written all over her face.
“She wants you to stay with her daughter. She said there's nothing you can do for her at the hospital, and she's right. The little one might wake during the night. She'll want you even though she has a nanny in the next room. Stress is not good for someone with RA. Can I tell her you agree?”
“Yes, of course,” Nealy said.
“Mr. Littletree, if you'll do the honors, we can be on our way.”
“Mom, I don't want to go to the hospital. One day, that's it. Mom?”
“Emmie, you have to do what the doctor says. A day, two days, even three. We need to find out what it is so you can be treated properly. Don't worry about anything.”
“Hifly?”
“I'll take good care of him, Emmie. Just do what the doctor wants. We'll see you tomorrow. It's going to be all right, Emmie.”
Nealy was standing by the front door when the phone rang behind her. She walked over to the little alcove and picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Emmie?”
“No, this is Emmie's mother. I'm sorry, but Emmie is on her way to the hospital. Can I take a message?”
“The hospital?” the voice queried. Nealy frowned.
“Just for some testing. Can I ask who's calling? I'll be happy to give her a message in the morning.”
“Just tell her Mary Ann called. I'm a friend of hers. I'll call again.”
“All right, Mary Ann.” Nealy replaced the phone, a frown building on her face. She looked at her husband. “I don't know anyone named Mary Ann, but her voice sounded familiar.” She shrugged. “I guess she's a new friend. Or maybe she's with the film crew.”
“Come on, honey, let's make some coffee and sit on the porch. Like it or not, Nealy, it looks like you're back in the saddle. We need to talk.”
“Yes, I guess we do,” Nealy said, reaching for the coffee canister.
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Hatch watched his wife from a distance. He knew she was in her element but sad and unnerved at the same time. She was backâback where she felt she belonged. He'd taken her away after her recovery from the awful burns, and she'd gone with him willingly. Never by word or deed did she even allude to the possibility she might be sad or that she was homesick for Blue Diamond Farms. But he knew, because you always know when the one person you love more than anything in the world is hiding something from you. Even when it was as simple as an emotion or a smile.
Nealy looked up, shading her eyes with the palm of her hand. She motioned him to join her. He did.
“How's everything looking, Hatch?”
“Great. The porch is done, everything is scrubbed and sparkling. The flowers are blooming just the way they're supposed to. The gardens are really pretty. The girls did a good job. I think your family will enjoy sitting out on the porch. You might need a few more chairs, though. I checked the barbecue pit, and everything looks good to go. I told Aggie to come and fetch us if the doctor or hospital calls. How's it going down here?”
“I'm too old for this, Hatch. My stamina is gone. I'm good at supervising, but that's about it. Emmie has some good people here. They know what they're doing, and they're dependable. Everyone on the farm is rooting for this runt.” She grinned as she pointed to Hifly. “They all know how much she loves him. He's starting to grow on me, too. We should have heard something by now, Hatch.”
“Maybe later when we go into the hospital they'll tell us something. It's only been a few days. Sometimes they have to wait for the blood results. You know, it has to sit or mix or they have to put stuff in it. It all takes time. RA can go along nicely for periods of time and then flare up into full-blown episodes like what Emmie is going through now. There are medications, and I'm sure they're doing everything humanly possible for her. If they definitely diagnose her with RA, then we can, if you want, find a specialist, a top man in his field, to have a look at her. We'll get a handle on it, honey. Think about it, Nealy. After the fire when you were so horribly burned, you almost gave up until Cole Tanner told you about Dr. Vinh in Thailand. Look at you now. You're beautiful. We'll find someone to help Emmie. It might be rough going for a while, but I think your daughter is up to it. Look who her mother is.”
Tears burned Nealy's eyes. “Maybe that won't be enough, Hatch. She feels about that horse the way I felt about Flyby,” she said, pointing to Hifly in the paddock. “I don't want that taken away from her. I won't let it happen,” Nealy said fiercely.
“I guess that means we're staying on as we planned.” Hatch grinned.
“Do you mind, Hatch?”
“Nealy, this is where you belong, and nothing will ever change that. If you need me to say we can stay forever, then I'm saying it. I just want to be where you are. I only want to help. Semiretirement leaves me a lot of free time.”
Nealy threw her arms around her husband. “I was hoping you would say that. I think we can pull it all together until . . . until Emmie gets on her feet. If . . . if it proves to be . . . more serious than we thought, then we'll deal with that, too.” She looked across the land dressed for summer. The rolling hills, the luscious bluegrass and the barns that housed her beloved horses. This was where she belonged.
“I finally figured out a word to describe Emmie's horse. He's
stubby.
Each time I look at him I either smile or laugh. Emmie was right, he's got heart. This is just a guess on my part but I think he's going to be easy to train. I've never seen a meaner horse than Gadfly. Emmie was right about that, too. Sometimes you get one like that. You hardly ever get one like Hifly. The bloodlines are too clean. I keep thinking about John Henry. Hifly could be his twin. What do you think, Hatch?”
“What I think is it's time for lunch, and then a trip to the hospital. Come along, Mrs. Littletree.”
In the kitchen, while they waited for Gertie to set lunch on the table, Nealy called out to Aggie, “Were there any calls, Aggie?”
“One, ma'am. I gave her Emmie's number at the hospital. Said she was a friend of hers. The other calls were farm-related. There's a huge bouquet of flowers in the foyer for you to take to the hospital. The girls picked and arranged them. Tell her we all hope she gets well soon.”
“I'll do that, Aggie. Was it Mary Ann who called?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Has she ever called here before?”
“As a matter of fact, she called yesterday. Do you know her?”
“No, I don't think so. Her voice did sound familiar, though. I'll tell Emmie she called. I'm not sure her phone is connected yet. They want her to rest, and talking on the phone isn't considered rest according to the doctors. I think dinner around six-thirty will be good, Gertie.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
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“I hate hospitals, Hatch. I swore I would never go into another hospital as long as I live. So, what am I doing? I'm trooping through a hospital is what I'm doing. I hate the smell, I hate the blue chairs in the waiting room. Most of all, I hate the tattered magazines and the smell from the coffee shop. All they sell in the way of food in hospital coffee shops is egg salad and tuna salad sandwiches. I didn't know that until someone told me. And licorice. They sell a lot of licorice in the gift store. I didn't know that either. Did you know that, Hatch?”
“I think I did. People do get better in hospitals, Nealy. Everyone doesn't die. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?”
“More or less. It's almost impossible not to think things like that when you come here,” Nealy said, jabbing at the elevator button. “We should have brought something besides these flowers. Why didn't we, Hatch?”
“Because we brought everything yesterday. Candy for Emmie's sweet tooth, magazines, books, lotions, clean gowns. I don't think you missed anything.”
“Do you think we should have called Mitch Cunningham ? I had this feeling Emmie wouldn't want him to see her . . . not looking her best. I think she has a bit of a crush on Mr. Perfectly Wonderful.”
“A person's first reaction to something is usually the right one. I say we keep quiet unless Emmie instructs us otherwise. Wait, we're going the wrong way. We should have gone right instead of left. We need to follow the red arrows. Be cheerful, Nealy.”
Nealy took a deep breath before opening the door to her daughter's hospital room. Before she could say hello, Emmie spoke. “They don't know why I puffed up like this, Mom. Maybe a bad reaction to the meds they've been giving me. They're running more tests. I know I look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Some of the inflammation in my joints has gone down but not enough. I hurt, Mom, all over.”
“It's always worse before it gets better, Emmie. Has Dr. Ward been in yet?”
“Around six this morning. He comes back either before or after office hours. How's Gabby? Does she miss me? How's Hifly? I know he misses me. You should give him something of mine to smell, Mom.”
“I did, Emmie. He snorted and tossed his head a bit. Yes, he misses you. And Gabby misses you, too. She sang âHey Diddle Diddle the Cat and the Fiddle' for me last night. Of course she giggled all the way through it. The flowers are from the girls. Oh, by the way, Aggie said your friend Mary Ann called twice. She gave her your number here in the room. Is the phone connected?”
“Yes, but no one has called.”
“Is Mary Ann a new friend? Her voice sounded familiar the night she called. She called just as Hatch was carrying you to the car. I don't know if I told you that or not. Do you want me to call her for you? Do you want me to call Mitch Cunningham?”
“No, Mom, don't call him. Mary Ann will call back. It's not important. She's someone I bowl with. It's not like we're best friends or anything like that,” Emmie lied. “I want to go home, Mom.”
Nealy looked around the hospital room. No matter what the hospital volunteers did in the way of decorating, it was still a hospital room. The floors were still hospital floors that were mopped twice daily with disinfectant and the hospital bed was still a hospital bed even though it had a flowered blanket. The colorful drapes were on steel rods with no cornice board and no sheer curtains underneath. The brown-leather chair was ugly as were the sink and the steel-framed mirror over it. The flowers on the windowsill gave off a sickly, funeral-like odor. She breathed through her mouth.
“Emmie, it's not like you have some bug that is going to go away in a day or so. We have to find out what exactly is wrong with you. For now, and I'm sure it won't be too much longer, this is the best place for you. If it's any consolation to you, I felt the same way you're feeling when I was in here.”
“Mom, what if I can't walk? What if I end up in a wheelchair? I'll be no good to you at the farm. I won't be able to pull my weight. That means you're either going to have to hire someone or do it all yourself. I know you can't do it anymore. All those operations took their toll on you.”
“Let's not worry about that now. We're managing just fine. You hired good people, and they're loyal and dedicated. We can always call on Ruby and Metaxas if we get jammed up. Or I can call my brothers.”
“Mom, your brothers are older than you are. I think you need to call Nick.”
“No, Emmie. Calling Nick is not an option. I don't want you worrying about this. We'll deal with everything as it comes up. Are you hungry, honey?”
“No. I'm on a restricted diet. No root vegetables, no this, no that. I eat a lot of Jell-O. They're experimenting on me. I know that's what they're doing. When I ask questions no one has the answers, and that doctor doesn't have any answers either. They can send someone to the moon, but they can't interpret my blood work. Explain that to me, Mom. I want to go home.”
“It sounds to me like you're whining, Emmie,” Dr. Ward said from the doorway. “We're treating her like royalty, and she still complains. I have good news, and I have bad news. The good news is you had a bad reaction to one of the meds we gave you yesterday. The swelling and puffiness will start to dissipate rather rapidly since we took you off it right away. You only had one dose. The bad news is your blood work came back. You do have rheumatoid arthritis. We talked about this yesterday and the day before. It's going to take some time for the inflammation to subside, and it won't go away entirely. I'm working up a course of treatment, and you will have to be monitored very carefully. You'll need blood and urine tests once a month. Sometimes more than once a month. I want to see you once a week until we get this under control. In time, Emmie, you'll be able to pick up your life, but that isn't going to be for a while. I will discharge you tomorrow, but only if you agree to a wheelchair for the time being. I want you to stay off your feet until the major part of the swelling and inflammation subsides. I'll send a physical therapist who will work with you daily out to the farm.”