My Funny Mayfair Valentine by Kassandra Lamb

Author:Kassandra Lamb [Lamb, Kassandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: misterio press LLC

Chapter Ten

I wasn’t at all sure what to do for Truman. The dispatcher had said to stay on the line, but I realized who could help. “I’ll call back,” I told the dispatcher and disconnected while she was vehemently objecting.

I called my mother. “Mom, we need your nursing skills. Come quick.”

“Come where?” she said, sounding startled.

“Toward the motel. I’ll meet you and bring you here.”

Forty minutes later, the paramedics were loading Truman’s gurney into their ambulance. They had already declared him stable, after setting up an IV and injecting several syringes of something into the tube, all in response to the indecipherable—to me at least—instructions coming from their radios.

“Do you know what he took?” I asked Mom.

She frowned. “If it’s whatever was in that vial, it’s a mild sedative, often prescribed to help people sleep.”

“How close a call was that?” I said.

“His pulse was a little weak when I got here, but he was a long way from dead.”

Susanna came over to us. New tears pooled in her eyes, above the tracks of previous ones on her flushed cheeks. “They won’t let me ride with him because I’m not a relative.”

“He’ll be okay,” Mom said, but she was watching the paramedics load up their equipment, a frown still on her face.

“How did you know what he’d done?” I asked Susanna.

“He called me.” She bit her lower lip. A tear threatened to break loose. “His voice was all slurred. He said he was calling to tell me goodbye.” Dropping her chin against her chest, she let out a sob.

I put my arm around her shoulders, and Mom and I exchanged a look above her curls. Mom shook her head slightly.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” I said and led Susanna away.

In front of the motel, she stopped and turned to me. “Marcia, I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Things haven’t been right the last few days. Tru’s been more distant. He used to be so…” she ducked her head and her cheeks pinked, “affectionate, but now he only pats my arm or hand, like I’m a child.”

“He’s probably just distracted by this legal mess he’s in.”

“Maybe.” She bit her lip, something she’d being doing a lot lately. “I was thinking about breaking up with him, but it seemed wrong to do that when,” she waved her hand in the air, “all this other stuff is going on. And now…”

My heart ached for her, but I had no clue what to advise.

“What he did today,” she said, “it makes me want to get away from him, but at the same time, I feel like I can’t do that. What if he tried to kill himself again and succeeded?” She shuddered.

“It makes you want to get away from him?” I’d been assuming the opposite reaction, that it would make her feel sorry for him, more protective. After all, this was the woman who less than a week ago was jumping on Will’s back to defend her man.

Now she was shaking her head.

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