Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Fifty-Five

Several minutes later and the barista continues to hover over Jamie, happily chatting away with him like I’m not even there while she eagerly scribbles his order on her little note pad, leaning her hip into the table right next to his arm.

She turns to me briefly, her expression immediately turning bored. “And you?” she says with one brow arched in clear annoyance, as if the mere sight of me is pestering her.

I can only sigh internally. I can’t even be mad. I brought this on myself, after all. Everyone practically worships the ground he walks on. I can’t say I’m surprised that people would wonder what the hell I’m doing having coffee with someone who constantly gets treated like he poops gold. Heck, I’m still wondering that myself.

“A small vanilla hot chocolate, please,” I say, trying to sound as polite as I can in spite of her less-than-stellar attitude toward me.

I opted for the cheapest thing on the menu—aside from the free water, anyway. The last thing I want to be spending my hard-earned—and quite limited—money on is some crappy, overpriced coffee served by a rude barista.

Once she leaves, I turn to Jamie, my eyes catching his staring at me.

An inkling of a frown slightly contorts my face as I examine him for a moment, trying to gauge his expression, his body language, and his overall mood.

Something doesn’t feel right about this…

“What’s your angle?” I ask abruptly, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them, my frown becoming more prominent.

He gives me a quizzical look. “Come again?”

I sigh. He’s obviously playing stupid, so I’m just going to have to come right out and say it.

“Look, Jamie,” I begin, “I’m not stupid, okay? I know how guys like you roll—and it’s not with girls like me. So I want to know what your angle is. Why did you ask me to have coffee with you? Is this some sort of bet you made with your buddies? A dare or—”

My phone chooses that very moment to go off, vibrating loudly in my back pocket, cutting my words short, and making me jump in my seat. I’m so startled that I almost knock the small decorative vase on the table over. I can only offer a tight smile for my clumsiness before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Ramona!” Theodore’s voice comes through, strained and breathless. I immediately frown at his frantic tone and rushed breathing. “Ramona, you need to get down here right now! It’s your grandmother!”

Immediately, I feel my heart sink to my stomach. “What? What’s wrong with Gran?” I say, panic lacing my words.

“I-I don’t know what happened to her,” Theodore stutters, showing his own obvious distress. “I came in a few minutes ago and found her on her kitchen floor. The ambulance just took her to Saint Gabriel’s. I’m about to head there now but I needed to call you first. I’m gonna call Danny and let him know—”

Theodore keeps talking but I’m having a hard time listening. My heart is beating hard in my chest and in my head, pulsing frantically as my brain registers all the words that are coming out of his mouth; words that I can’t believe I’m hearing.

Before I even know it, I’m on my feet. I’m trying not to panic so much but I’m failing miserably, still gripping the phone to my ear with a shaky hand. I barely hear Jamie’s voice over the sound of blood rushing and swishing in my head.

“What’s wrong,” he says, a frown distending his forehead into a furrow.

My mouth suddenly feels dry, and my breathing becomes shallow. “I…I have to go,” is the only response I can manage to give him.

On impulse, my shaky legs move as fast as they can to get out of the coffee shop. I frantically scurry around the cluster of tables, trying to maneuver my body between the poorly organized sitting area without knocking anything over. I feel the distinct taste of bile rising in my throat as my head continues to pound and my mind tries to grapple with the disturbing news I’ve just received.

“Ramona, wait,” Jamie calls out, quickly standing and coming after me. I vaguely hear myself apologize to him, but I don’t look back or stop. I don’t even realize I’ve been running until I get to my car and find myself panting and trembling all over.

The thought of Gran lying on her kitchen floor all by herself drains all the blood from my face and makes me feel physically weak.

If Theodore hadn’t been there…

God, I don’t even want to think about what might have happened.

I quickly turn on the ignition, and as soon as I pull out of the parking lot, uncontrollable tears start streaming down my face.

She’s the only one I have left in the world. I can’t lose her.

Dear God, please let her be okay, I silently pray as the tears continue to fall. Please let her be okay.

***