asked.
âNo, thank you. Iâll see how Seth is doing. Heâll drive me home.â
When I entered the hospitalâs lobby, I saw Seth sitting with Brad Fowler on a bench in the far corner of the room. Seth waved me over.
âHow is Isabel?â I asked.
Seth just shook his head, a somber expression on his face.
âIs sheâ?â
âSheâs alive, but it was a massive stroke, intracerebral if Iâm not mistaken. Sheâs undergoing a CAT scan as we speak.â
Brad, who was fighting back tears, asked, âIs she going to make it, Doctor?â
âWe have to give it some time, Brad. We generally do pretty well with stroke victims who are treated within three or four hours of the onset, depending upon the sort of stroke it is. Weâve got a few good drugs that really help early on.â
Brad stood and paced the lobby.
âQuite a night for him,â I said to Seth.
âOne heâd just as soon forget. What happened at the restaurant after I left?â
âMarcie took charge, and thereâs a sous chef named Jake who was taking over in the kitchen.â
âGood. I keep thinking about that arrogant son-of-a-gun Leboeuf and the way he acted.â
âHeâs the least of Bradâs worries at this moment,â I said.
Seth was paged and told me to wait for him. Brad slumped into the seat next to mine. âShe was so happy today,â he said. âShe was smiling and trying to cheer me up, while I was a nervous wreck.â He looked at me sadly. âI donât want to disappoint her, Mrs. Fletcher. Sheâs invested all she could to make our dream come trueâMarcieâs and mineâeven though weâre not exactly experts in this business. She never held it over us. She spent hours in the kitchen, patiently showing me everything she knew. âItâs my pleasure,â she kept saying when I told her she needed to rest. Do you think thatâs what made her sick?â
âIâm sure Isabel was telling you the truth when she said it was her pleasure, Brad. And I donât see how that could have made her sick. Whatever health problems she has are not because she spent too much time teaching you to cook.â
âSheâs the best mother a guy could ever ask for.â He shook his head. âI havenât been the best son, I know. I was a terrible student. Got in trouble in school. Iâm short-tempered and stubborn. I canât seem to help it. She says Iâm just like my dad, but I think she just says that to give me an excuse.â He sat back and closed his eyes, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. âAt least I did one thing right.â
âWhatâs that?â
âI married her favorite person. She loves my wife like a daughter. And Marcie loves her right back.â
âYouâre a lucky man to have two such beautiful women in your life.â
Brad swiped under his eyes with his fingers and smiled. It was the first smile Iâd seen on his face that evening, but it didnât last. âWeâll take care of her no matter what. But whatâll I do if Ilose her, Mrs. Fletcher?â He shook his head and knocked a fist against his skull. âI canât even think like that.â
âItâs better not to anyway,â I said. âDr. Hazlitt and the other medical personnel will do everything in their power to keep her with us. We canât ask for more than that.â
We said little more to each other until Seth returned twenty minutes later, his face etched with apprehension. He sighed as he sat next to Brad.
âItâs not good news, son,â he said. âIâm afraid sheâs sustained a lot of cranial bleeding. There is a strong possibility of permanent damage. All we can do is wait and see if the drugs will get her through.â
âCan I see her?â
âNot right now. Theyâve taken her up to intensive care. The
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas