Free The Colors of Love by Vanessa Grant

to be neutered," reminded the vet. "We'll do his second series of injections then."
    Squiggles had been treated for worms and fleas, then given a clean bill of health. Jamie had written a check, in return for which she'd received a cardboard folder containing the kitten's medical record. She slipped it carefully into her purse. She'd show it to Alexander, she decided, the next time she saw him.
    Sara was coming on Wednesday. Would Alexander return before then? To criticize? To check up on her? The anger she'd felt last night over his criticism had become tangled with expectation now.
    She'd seen him in the hospital, walked with him in the rain, searching for the kitten. She'd felt his lips on hers, and last night in her kitchen, she'd seen him angry, agitated in the way of a man who wasn't used to being disturbed.
    What would it be like to have a lover? She hummed as she drove home through Seattle's streets, enjoying the memory of his kiss.
    * * *
    Alex had cleared a two-hour slot beginning at one-thirty Wednesday afternoon, giving himself time to drop in at Jamila Ferguson's while Sara would be there. Just to check, because Sara worried him.
    But at one-ten, the ER attending at All Saints called to say Jason Patterson had been admitted, unconscious. Alex ran across the street to the hospital, getting there in a record two minutes, his mind filled with images of the diabetic Jason pale and lifeless.
    Twelve-year-old Jason lay in an ER cubicle, unconscious but alive, skin pale and lips parted, an IV drip connected to his right hand.
    "Five percent glucose," said the attending. "Lab's running blood sugar now. Mom's outside."
    Alex checked the boy's pulse. Jason's unconsciousness could be a symptom of either diabetic coma or insulin shock. The attending had correctly administered a mild glucose solution against the possibility of diabetic shock, which could quickly lead to brain damage and death. If the blood work showed Jason was hyperglycemic instead, the mild glucose dripping into Jason's veins could quickly be counteracted with an insulin injection.
    Alex checked the boy's pulse, noted that his skin felt damp as if he'd been sweating, that his breath lacked the sweet smell typical of hyperglycemia.
    A nurse entered caring a clipboard, and announced, "Blood sugar's 1.9."
    "Okay. Twenty-five percent glucose," ordered Alex.
    Twenty minutes later he was in the Chief of Medicine's office, saying, "One of my juvenile diabetics has just been admitted with insulin shock. His mother's been packing him rabbit food for lunch every day, but the kid has a massive chocolate Easter egg stashed in his room. He's been skipping the rabbit food, saving up for the damned chocolate. He keeps up with his insulin shots, but with no food, the insulin works on his blood sugar instead. It takes a nosedive, and the patient goes into insulin shock. It doesn't matter how much literature I hand his mom, Jason's twelve years old and he thinks he's bloody well immortal! Gordon, it's time you got me some dollars to start a group for these kids."
    "Where the hell am I going to find that kind of money?" Gordon lit a cigar despite the hospital's complete smoking ban. "I'm not the villain here. You know damned well I'm fighting to keep the services we've got. Send the kid to diabetic camp."
    "Camp doesn't start until July. My kid could be dead in July."
    "I'd help you if I could, Alex. You know that."
    Alex leaned forward despite the cloud of smoke. "I've got a needs study on your desk. If you can't give me money, give me support."
    "I can't—"
    "A letter, Gordon. You know we need a free-access treatment center. This hospital can't provide one, but you'll be referring patients." He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. "I drafted something for you. Take a look. If you and I don't do something about this, we'll be responsible for kids like Jason dying."
    "I'll think about it," said Gordon.
    Alex spent fifteen minutes arranging a barrage for Jason