Page 52 of Luck Be Mine
Cait pointed a finger at her, touching her iPhone screen. “You are trying to psych me out.”
“I wouldn’t try any such thing. Besides, I have a patient in five minutes. This discussion should be left until you are better. Anxiety can be fueled by the extra pain. Let’s just wait and see where this road takes you.”
Cait opened her mouth to reply, but the doorbell rang.
Jackie grinned, suddenly in a hurry. “I heard that. Magazine salesman. Bye.”
“I’ll be finding out. You go handle your patient. I’ll talk to you later.”
After another quick goodbye, she tossed her phone on the bed and went to the door. A check of the peephole and she hauled open the door. “Carter!”
“I heard your news. Can I come in?”
“John Evans, you do not need to ask. Get in here. I have cookies.”
“I don’t need fed every time I come over, Doc.”
“Don’t take the fun out of it.” She shut the door behind him. He closely watched her steps into the entry way. She hugged him. “It’s been a long road and having you behind me helps. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Carter eased away and went to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the new leather stools tucked there. “What did he give you to take? Pain killers are not your thing.”
“Who ratted me out?”
“Your husband said the neurologist had you on pain killers. Since I can’t imagine you taking them, I thought I’d check. What are you doing instead?”
She widened her eyes, giving him the best professional side-step she could manage. “Your medical knowledge gives away that you ought to be in medical school.”
“I like the travel and the blowing things up. Don’t change the subject.”
“So, Dr. Evans, what do you recommend?”
Carter smirked at the title. “I wouldn’t presume to understand more than Dr. Newman, but… he also doesn’t know you like I do, Doctor.” Carter’s bland stare stirred her guilt.
Cait collapsed next to him in the other stool. “Massage. Heat. Ibuprofen. Tylenol chasers. Rest. I will take the steroids.” She pulled the cookie jar in their direction. “You’ve become a brat since Afghanistan.”
Carter helped her take the lid off and pulled out a cookie before she could. “Who taught me all this stuff?”
When she stayed quiet in self-defense, he answered his own question. “You did. With a heck of a lot of mentoring. Returning the favor. Will the regime work?”
Cait shrugged. “I want to try it first. He gave me another medication to reduce pain signals. But I think the pain is part of the process. It’s not chronic, it’s a result of the injury. I have to wait it out.”
“I’ll buy that. For now.” He took a bite of the peanut butter cookie and sighed. “Just like home.”
“Safe harbor, Carter. Safe harbor.”
§§§§§§§§§§
December 2, 2020 – One Year Since Injury
◊ Glad You’re Not Dead Day ◊
Hunt backed into a parking spot and noted Doogie’s truck two vehicles over. The man had a house with a small kitchen of his own but insisted on cooking in Cait’s. Granted, she had every possible kitchen gadget and an overstocked pantry. He handed off the apartment key to Doogie without qualm.
As a young boy, he couldn’t imagine food being plentiful or his plate being full of things he liked to eat. The cooking competition between the two people closest to him made Hunt thankful and happy.
On the way to the door, he paused by a white Suburban. Was this Senior Chief’s family car?
Cait arrived from QM, drove past him with a little wave, and parked her white compact car in a spot several over from his. Long strides put him there to open her car door.
