Page 2 of Harvest Season in Kentbury
“From what the doctors said, you had a mild heart attack,” she says carefully, watching my reaction.“Your assistant called Sinclair, who’s in Spain with Lavender.He called Paul, and we flew in to check on you.The doctor should be in soon to explain more.”
She’s talking fast, dumping too much information on me all at once.I blink, trying to process.Thank God it’s just Lou here.If all four of my siblings were crowding me, I’d probably lose it.
But one thing stands out like a glaring neon sign.“I had a heart attack?”I rasp, my throat dry and scratchy.“I’m barely forty.That shouldn’t happen.I need ...water.”
She gets up, grabbing the cup from the table and helps me sip water through a straw, just as the doctor walks in.He’s smiling—actually smiling—and I can’t help but think, if my health were really that bad, there’s no way this guy would look so cheerful.Maybe I’m not completely screwed.
“Well, it’s nice to see you awake, Mr.McFolley,” the doctor says in a voice that’s a little too chipper for my taste.“It seems the stress in your life, along with some genetics, led to you suffering a mild heart attack.Now, while it could’ve been worse, you’ll need to take several weeks off work to rest your body and let your heart heal.”
Weeks off?I grunt under my breath, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.Right.Because sitting around doing nothing is exactly what my career needs right now.
The doctor continues, oblivious to my inner grumbling.“We’ll assess how your recovery is going.After that, we’ll want to see some lifestyle changes to ensure that you live a long, happy and healthy life.We’ll keep an eye on everything to ensure there’s no scarring or issues with how your heart pumps in the future.But for now, things are looking good.”
I blink, trying to absorb the amount of information.A few weeks off work?My mind scrambles.That’s impossible.I’ve got cases piling up, deadlines breathing down my neck, and no one on my team is equipped to handle half of what I do.My heart might have been under pressure, but now my brain’s feeling the squeeze.
I look over at Lou, eyes wide with panic.How the hell am I supposed to just ...stop?
“I can’t just take time off.No one else can handle my caseload,” I mutter, staring down at my hands like the answer might be there if I look hard enough.
“Raffa, you have to.If you don’t, we could lose you,” Lou says, her voice filled with that kind of sisterly desperation that makes me squirm.She’s staring right into my eyes, silently pleading with me to cooperate.
I know she’s right.But giving up control—even for a little while—of something I’ve built with my own blood, sweat, and in spite of my father and his expectations?It feels like handing over my soul.My brain’s too fuzzy from the meds to come up with a decent plan, and that frustrates me even more.
“Are our parents here?”I ask, trying to shift the focus away from my impending loss of control.
Lou glances away, avoiding my eyes.Yep, I know that look.It’s the same one the nanny gave us when our parents didn’t show up for school plays or soccer games.
“You know how they are,” she says softly.“Paul and McKay are in the cafeteria.Sinclair’s flying in tomorrow.And Barnaby is ...well, you know how he is.But we’re all ready to take you home.”
Home?I groan, rubbing a hand over my face in frustration.I live in Boston, she doesn’t.I wish the hospital, my assistant or whoever contacted my family, hadn’t done so.My siblings mean well, but now they’re going to try to drag me to fucking Kentbury, where most of them have relocated like it’s some magical town.Even Sinclair lives there half a year.They think I’ll fall in love with the place and settle down.Spoiler alert: I won’t.
“Look ...I think it’s best if you head home soon,” I grunt, my grumpy tone slipping through.“Don’t your kids need you?”
Lou gives me that stern, exasperated look only a mother—or a sister—can pull off.“Henrik’s with the kids in Kentbury,” she replies and before I get a chance to tell her that maybe she should go home because I can’t imagine taking care of three kids—especially the six-month-old baby—alone is easy, she adds, “Grandma Genie’s helping him.We’re here for you, Raffa.”
“Honestly, I don’t need you.I’m fine,” I insist, waving her off, but I can feel the cracks forming in my argument.
She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.“Oh, I’m sorry.Of course you’re doing fine.Your cholesterol levels are fine, your heart just missed a beat or two ...oh, that’s right, you chose to have a relaxing visit in the hospital, why not just head back to the office right now.”
“You don’t need to be sarcastic,” I growl at her.
“Listen, you’re coming with us to Kentbury.It’s not optional.”She uses her best mom voice.“If you can’t take care of your own health, we will do it for you until you learn to prioritize yourself.You come first before everything else, work included.”
Before I can say anything, my phone rings from the table next to the hospital bed.Saved by the bell.Sort of.
“Hello, Paul,” I say as I answer, grateful for the distraction.
“You’re alive,” he exclaims, half-joking.“I’m outside your room.McKay and Lou don’t think we should all cram in there, but I wanted you to know we’re here for you—and ready to take you with us to Kentbury.”
His voice is full of concern, and it tugs at my chest.I know they care and believe they know what’s best for me.It’s just ...Kentbury is too fucking far from work.
They’ve been begging me to visit, but it’s a slippery slope.I’ve seen it with Sin, Lou and even Paul.You visit for the maple syrup and end up staying forever because someone steals your heart.Not that I have one though.My track record with women has shown me that I suck when it comes to love.
“Listen, I’m totally fine, better than the guys down in the morgue,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s not funny, Raffa,” Paul says, sighing into the phone.“We don’t want to lose you.”
I clear my throat, feeling slightly guilty.“Sorry, Paul.Just trying to keep things light.This day hasn’t gone as planned.”
