Everlast (Ever Series Book 2), page 5
The paper plates and silverware fly everywhere as her hands reach out to try and catch herself. She lets out an awful cry when her hip clips the corner of a small metal table. The sound has a piercing pain shooting through my sternum, straight through my heart. The hit has Molly spinning, and I watch in horror as my mind conjures up what’s going to happen next.
I dive for her, my knees jarring, my hands darting out just in time to catch her head before it hits the concrete. My gut drops to my toes when I notice Molly’s eyes are closed and the deathly pale white of her complexion. Feet shuffle and worried glances peer down at her in my arms, but all I can focus on is Molly.
Her eyes flutter open, and her confused stare meets mine.
“Are you okay?” I clear my throat when my voice comes out scratchy.
She frowns. “Yeah, I think so.”
Nancy, who has dropped to her knees on the other side of Molly, grabs her daughter’s hand. “What in the world happened?”
“I don’t know.” Molly closes her eyes for a brief second. “My legs just sort of went rigid for a moment. It was like they were too stiff to move, but I couldn’t stop the rest of my body in time.”
“Has that ever happened before?” Douglas asks, hovering over Nancy’s shoulders.
Molly’s eyes dart to mine before meeting her dad’s. “No, not that,” she answers hesitantly.
“What aren’t you telling us, Molly?”
Instead of answering her mom’s question, Molly begins to sit up. Her wince reminds me of the hit she took to the hip. I push her back down until her head is cradled in my lap.
“Let me take a look at your hip first,” I tell her.
I lift her shirt and pull down the edge of her leggings a couple of inches until an angry red mark appears right above her hip bone, mixing in with the stretch marks pregnancy gave her. It doesn’t look bad, but I have no doubt because of the location it’s pretty sore.
“Mom?” A tearful voice comes from a few feet away. We both look over and find Gemma and Gray huddled together. Gray has his arm around her shoulders and her arms are hugging her brother tight, like she’s frightened. “Are you okay?”
I help Molly sit up, and as soon as her back is straight, she’s reaching out for our children. Nancy scoots back, giving them room, and they rush forward and fall to their knees beside their mother.
“I’m okay,” Molly says gently. “I only got a little dizzy and fell.”
Gemma lies her head on Molly’s shoulder. “You scared me,” she says with a sniffle.
Gray’s eyes are pinned on Molly, watching her closely. The boy is too smart for his britches. Always has been. Even at thirteen years old, he knows there’s more going on than what his mom said. I just wish I knew what the hell it was.
As Molly rubs Gemma’s back soothingly, she grabs the front of Gray’s shirt and pulls him forward. It breaks my heart when his face crumples and he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her chest.
“I’m okay,” she whispers to the tops of their heads. “Shh….”
They stay that way for several moments. Eventually, Gray pulls back, and I help Molly lift Gemma away.
“Why don’t the two of you and Aubree help Uncle Joe take the banana pudding and pie inside and make each of us a plate. I think I want to eat inside now. The sun is getting a little hot.”
“Okay, Mom.” Gemma kisses Molly’s cheek and gets to her feet. Gray is slower to get up, the look in his eyes saying he’s not fooled.
After Joe helps the kids gather the two desserts, the three walk inside, leaving the rest of us on the patio. Douglas grabs a chair as I pick Molly up bridal style and set her on the seat. I grab another chair and pull it as close to her as I can. My nerves are still shot from watching her fall, and I want her within touching distance.
“What’s going on, Molly?” Nancy asks, settling into her own seat. Her brows are pulled down and concern laces her features. Douglas sits beside his wife, and Lindsay takes a chair on the other side of them
“We don’t really know,” Molly answers, nibbling on her lip. “I’ve been off lately.”
“How so?” Douglas asks.
“My balance has been wonky.” I grab Molly’s hand when she pauses. “And I’ve been forgetting things. Important things that I shouldn’t forget.”
“Have you spoken with Dr. Becker?”
“I saw him Friday, but not much was accomplished. He ordered bloodwork. I have a follow-up appointment on Wednesday.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“A few weeks.” At Nancy’s concerned look, Molly explains further. “It’s probably from all the stress lately.”
“I want a phone call immediately after your appointment on Wednesday,” Nancy says firmly.
“I will, Mom. I promise. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You scared the bejesus out of me.”
Molly gets to her feet at the same time Nancy does, and they hug. “I’m sorry,” she says into the side of Nancy’s head.
In reality, what happened earlier shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. People stumble over their feet every day and memories get lost.
But when it comes to Molly, I take no chances.
Chapter Five
MOLLY
I pick up the magazine lying on the table beside me and flip it open to the recipe section. I read over a few until I find one I think everyone will like and snap a picture of it with my phone. I’ve found some really good recipes sitting in doctor’s offices.
“Mmm… chicken parm,” Lincoln comments, glancing away from his own magazine to mine. “Looks good.”
“I was thinking about going out tomorrow to grab the ingredients.”
“Sounds good.” He tosses his magazine on the table and stretches his legs out, propping his arm on the back of my chair. “I heard you on the phone with Jenna the other day. How’s she doing?” he asks.
“She’s great. I think the guy she met a while back has been good for her. She seems happy.”
“She deserves it. How’s Violet? Has she brought the new guy around her? Bryant was his name, right?”
I drop the magazine beside his, and he takes the opportunity to grab my hand and bring it to his lap. His thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand.
“Yes. I think he’s only met Violet a couple of times. I get why she’s so nervous to bring him around, but I hope she doesn’t use it as an excuse to not move forward with this guy.”
“We need to take a trip out there or have them fly here. I’d like to meet him to make sure he’s good for our girls.”
I smile, my heart warming at the notion Lincoln is concerned about Jenna and Violet. “She’s actually planning a trip out here soon.”
A door whooshing open interrupts our conversation. “Mrs. Bradshaw?”
We get up and follow the nurse to a small room where she takes my vitals. I don’t know why I’m nervous. Growing up, and even as an adult, my doctor used to tell me I was going to put him out of business because I was never sick and only had to see him for regular vaccinations and check-ups. I’m used to being the doctor and finding out what’s causing the issue—even if it is for pets—not the other way around.
Once we’re in the patient room, the nurse asks me the usual questions before informing us Dr. Becker will be with us in a few minutes.
I sit on the bed, the paper beneath me crumpling, irritating me. Instead of using the patient chair, Lincoln chooses the stool and rolls it over until he’s positioned between my legs. I run my fingers through his hair as he looks up at me.
“Tell me a story,” he urges, turning my half-smile into a full-fledged one.
I tap my pursed lips with my finger as I think. “Let’s see,” I murmur. “Have I told you the one about the guy who stole my heart for the millionth time when he sang to his infant son?”
His smile is beautiful as he shakes his head. “Tell me.”
“Those first few days after Gray was born were some of the most exhausting days of my life. As you know, my milk didn’t come in right away, which made it hard for Gray to get enough sustenance, so he was constantly hungry.” Or so we thought. He’d feed, and as soon as I laid him down, he’d wake up again crying. I had him at my nipple so often that they ended up cracking and bleeding. Come to find out, he only wanted something in his mouth. We introduced him to the pacifier, and he immediately latched on. That pacifier was my miracle.
“Gray’s crying woke me up one night a few days after we came home. I was so tired I couldn’t even keep my eyes open as I went to his room. I was stumbling and using the wall as my guide. I heard you before I made it to Gray’s room. We both know you can’t carry a tune.” We laugh. “But hearing you sing “Baby Mine” to Gray, I swear it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. That’s one of the many times I fell in love with you.”
He gets up from the stool, cups my cheeks, and kisses me sweetly. “I lost count years ago of how many times I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lie my head right over his heart. I enjoy listening to his heartbeat as we stay that way for several long moments. It’s one of my favorite sounds because it means he’s real and here with me.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and Lincoln and I are broken away from our moment. An older gentleman wearing a white coat over a light-blue dress shirt and gray slacks walks inside. Dr. Becker has been my doctor since I was twelve years old. He delivered both Gray and Gemma. Before that, I saw his father, who retired and left his practice, and patients, to his son.
Lincoln steps back and goes to sit on the chair.
“Hey, Molly. Lincoln,” Dr. Becker greets. He hooks his foot around the stool and tugs it toward him. After setting his laptop down on the counter, he takes a seat. “How are you doing?”
“Just wondering what’s going on with me.”
He taps away at the keyboard for a few moments before turning his attention to me. “Unfortunately, we’re going to have to be left in the dark a bit longer. I got your blood work back, and everything seems to be normal.”
“How is that possible?” Lincoln asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “There’s obviously something going on.”
Dr. Becker nods. “I agree. We need to dig a bit deeper to figure out what it is.”
“What else do we need to do?”
“First, I want to go over your family medical history again. I know you were asked last week, but I want to make sure you didn’t forget anything.”
I shake my head. “No, nothing. My maternal grandmother died from a stroke a couple of years ago, and my maternal grandfather from colon cancer when I was ten. My paternal grandparents are still alive and in good health. Mom and Dad are healthy, and since you’re Lindsay’s doctor, you already know she is too, so no issues there. None of my other family has medical issues that we’re aware of.”
He taps on his laptop some more. “Any other incidences since your last visit?”
“The muscles in my legs locked up on Sunday, and I fell.”
“She bumped her hip on the corner of the table as she was falling, leaving a bruise behind,” Lincoln adds.
Dr. Becker looks up from his computer, his bushy brows behind his glasses dropping. He gets up, washes his hands, and walks over to me.
“Lie back for me, dear, and let me have a look.”
Although I don’t think the bruise is that bad—it’s actually almost gone—I lie down and lift the bottom of my shirt. Dr. Becker rolls down the waistband of my leggings until he exposes the slightly sore area. He pokes at it a couple of times before fixing the waistband.
“Nothing to be concerned about.”
He moves to the center of my stomach and presses down a couple more times. He has me sit up and he listens to my heart and lungs.
“Has anything else occurred? Anything new?” He looks from me to Lincoln, and we both shake our heads.
Using a small penlight, he checks my pupils. After, he holds up a finger and asks me to follow it with my eyes without moving my head. He frowns again.
“There’s slight nystagmus,” he comments.
“Nystagmus?” Lincoln asks. “What is that?”
I answer for Dr. Becker. “Involuntary movement of the eye, sometimes known as dancing eyes.”
“Come look.” Lincoln goes to stand beside Dr. Becker. He has me follow his finger again. “See how the eyes rapidly flicker back and forth?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. So, what does that mean?” I ask.
“Could be nothing. Could be something important. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
“Could it be something neurological?”
With my background in veterinary science, I’ve got some medical knowledge. The more I think about my symptoms, the more it sounds like something to do with my nerves.
“Hmm…. Could be.”
“What’s our next move, Doc?” Lincoln asks.
“An MRI for starters. From there, we’ll see what we need to do next. I’ll put the order in now and should have an appointment for you for tomorrow. The radiologist is a good friend, so I’ll ask him to rush the results.” He pockets the penlight and retakes his seat on the stool. “In the meantime, I want you to keep a log of your symptoms. What they are, when they happen, and what you’re doing when it does.”
“Okay.”
After he types something on his laptop, he gets up from his seat. I slide down from the bed, and Lincoln slips his palm into mine, lacing our fingers together.
Dr. Becker walks over and grips my upper arm. “We’ll find out what’s going on with you. It just may take a few different tests and a bit of time.”
I nod, disappointment settling in my stomach. While I’m glad nothing serious was found in my blood work, I’m left with even more questions. One of the hardest things to go through is to know something’s wrong with your body, but not know what it is.
“I’ll get this referral sent over. You should get a call from Lena later today with your MRI appointment. I want you back in here Monday morning.”
“How concerned should we be?” Lincoln asks.
“I wouldn’t stress just yet. There’s no telling what this could be. Until we dig deeper and know more, I wouldn’t concern yourself too much.”
Lincoln and I thank Dr. Becker, and after I make an appointment for nine on Monday morning, we leave. My mind goes a mile a minute as we make the short drive home. The next few days are going to be hard to get through. The thought’s already crossed my mind to Google my symptoms and do research myself, but I know it’ll only make my worry worse. There are thousands of ailments that could relate to my symptoms, so there’s no way to know for sure.
I force my thoughts away and think of more lighthearted things.
“I was thinking Gemma and I could join you and Gray camping this year,” I remark as we walk through the door leading from the garage into the house.
“Really?” Lincoln stops and tosses his keys on the kitchen counter before turning to face me with amused eyes. “You mean you’re going to brave the wild for three whole days?”
I scoff. “I can totally handle it.”
He cocks a brow, not convinced. “You sure about that?”
I stick my tongue out at him, and he stalks toward me, chomping his teeth. I laugh and slip my tongue back between my lips. He wraps his arms around me, pinning me against the counter.
“You have such little faith in me,” I say playfully.
“You do remember the first and only time you went camping with us, right?”
“Hey! Anyone would freak out if a snake slithered up to them while they were peeing.”
His grin is cocky. “I didn’t.”
I narrow my eyes. “Yeah, but your butt wasn’t inches away from the ground.”
“Ahh… yeah.” He chuckles. “Men are so lucky, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” I slap his chest. “You jerk.”
His lips rumble against mine when he kisses me. “You really want to come with us?”
“Yeah, I do. And I think Gemma will enjoy it too. When you guys go, I always fill the weekend with girly stuff for us to do, so it’s never bothered her that she wasn’t included, but I think she’ll have a blast.”
“Okay. But I’m not hooking your worms,” he warns cheekily.
“Whatever.” I pat his chest and then push him back. As I walk away, I throw him a grin over my shoulder. “I’ll have Gray do it for me.”
I plop down on the couch and pull up Mom’s number on my phone. She answers on the sixth ring.
“Sorry,” she greets breathlessly. “I left my phone upstairs while I was doing the laundry.”
“Has Dad put in the laundry shoot yet?”
“He’s actually working on it now.” Just as she says this, there’s a loud bang in the background, followed by a low muttered curse. “Not around the kids, Douglas,” she reprimands. “And that’s exactly why I told you to hire someone to do it.” I can just imagine her rolling her eyes. “I swear your dad is as hardheaded as they come. This is the second finger he’s smashed with a hammer today.”
“Eh. Take it easy on him. You know how much he hates hiring help. And you know he won’t admit he needs it. I think it’s a trait all men have.”
“No truer words have been spoken,” she says with a laugh. “Now,” she huffs out a breath, “tell me what Dr. Becker said.”
“Not much really. My blood work came back fine, which is good. He has me going in for an MRI scan.”
“That sounds serious.”
“I guess maybe it could be, but it could also be nothing. Dr. Becker doesn’t seem to be too concerned yet.”
“What else did he say? He didn’t have any suggestions on what it could be?”
I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder and fold the small throw blanket. “With my symptoms, it sounds like it could be neurological. We went over my family medical history again, but I didn’t have anything new to tell him. It’s pretty much a waiting game at the moment.”
