Page 13 of You're So Vine
“I’m calling 911,” he announces.
A big crowd has gathered around us. No chuckling now. This is serious.
“What’s up, Doc?” An ashen Nate makes the unintentional Bugs Bunny joke.
“Pulse is low and she’s still out for the count. Not taking any chances.”
Doc shakes his head at Nate and the rest of the family gathered around: Danny and the twins, who are all looking as pale and worried as Nate.
“You Durants are keeping me from my retirement.”
“Ray, is it her heart?”
This from a handsome, older man, who’s obviously Nate and Ava’s father, Mitchell Durant. Shelby told me all about his own heart condition. Hence his concern.
“Can’t say, Mitch. But don’t fret until you know there’s something to fret about.”
Mitchell Durant looks like he’s about to demand a better answer. A man used to getting his own way, Shelby says, though he’s apparently mellowed a lot in the past few months.
His wife, Ginny, takes his arm, and Mitch Durant settles for glaring.
And then Ava starts to stir.
“Can we get some room here?”
The crowd obeys and pulls back. Doc Wilson has a natural command.
Ava blinks, trying to get her bearings. Confusion becomes panic. She starts to sit up way too quickly, but Doc Wilson gently prevents her.
“Woah there,” he says. “Easy now.”
I know Ava’s a horsewoman, but she’s not actually a horse. Still, I’m not in charge here.
Sound of a siren coming closer. Ava registers it and clutches Doc’s arm, eyes wide with alarm.
“Precautionary,” he says. “You know me. I like to do it by the book.”
The crowd parts as the paramedic crew comes in.
“Hey, Ray,” says the first one, a woman. “What’ve we got?”
They confer, and I wish I could get closer. Izzy, I notice, has snuck behind the trestle table and is holding Ava’s hand. Doc then moves off to have a hushed conversation with Ava’s dad, who nods once, curtly. Doc gives the thumbs up to the paramedic.
“Okay, ma’am,” she says to Ava. “Doc says you’re coming with us. Your folks will pick up the bill.”
And suddenly, Ava’s looking directly at me. Eyes big, pleading. I hate hospitals, like,reallyhate them, and my instinct is to draw back, wait.
But I can hear Chiara in my mind. “Now’s good, Cam.”
“Can I go with her, Doc?” I say.
He glances up at me in surprise, and back to Ava. Makes a swift assessment.
“You fit to drive?” Doc says, and when I nod, adds, “What’s your name, son?”
“Cam.”
“Okay, then, Cam. Let’s take our leave of these good people and follow on behind to the hospital.”
