Doc in the Box by Elaine Viets Read Free Book Online Page A

surprisingly chipper. On the drive there, she talked about buying her wig. She was definite about what she wanted: “My hairdresser says I should have some fun, and get a couple of wigs in different styles.A long one, maybe, or something red and curly instead of my usual straight blond hair. I know she was being nice and trying to cheer me up, but I don’t want anyone to notice any difference. If I show up with red hair, Charlie will figure I’ve flipped, and start scheming to put me out to pasture.
    “So I want two wigs, both the same color and style as I have now. That way I can have one washed and set while I’m wearing the other.”
    She talked matter-of-factly. There were no tears or self-pity. Hair loss was a problem, but it was one she could solve, and right now so many of her problems had no answers. Tarkington’s Fine Wigs and Hair Fashions, a few blocks from the hospital, was exactly the right place to go. It was dignified and low-key. The quiet, helpful, older woman with the light blue eyes was used to dealing with chemo patients. Her voice was soft and soothing. “Are you in therapy, dear?” she asked, then sat Georgia down before a flattering mirror and showed her wigs that were the same shade as her own hair. I wandered around the store, looking at wild red wigs and a fascinating black Morticia Addams number. I longed to try on a jolly Dolly Parton wig and see how I’d look as a trashy blonde, but it seemed too frivolous under the circumstances.
    After about twenty minutes, Georgia found a short blond wig that could easily be trimmed into her regular style. The saleswoman made it fit nicely, then brought another one just like it. She also sold Georgia several turbans and a blue paisley scarf with blond bangs, “because nobody wants to wear a wig twenty-four hours a day, dear, and you can just throw these on if the UPS delivery person is at the door.Turbans are so glamorous, don’t you think? They always make me think of marabou and movie stars.”
    I loaded the wigs, stands, boxes, and packages into Ralph’s trunk. We still had plenty of time to get to the hospital for her radiation appointment.
    “That was painless,” Georgia said, combing her hair back in place with her fingers. I couldn’t believe it would be gone soon. It seemed so solidly rooted to her head. She must have seen me staring at it.
    “It just comes out, you know, all at once,” she said. “That’s what the chemo nurses told me. I’ll probably find it all over the floor of the shower one morning. All your hair falls out. Everything. Everywhere. Eyelashes, eyebrows, pubic hair, armpits, legs. It all goes. My eyelashes are so pale they’re hardly there anyway, and I think I can hide my missing eyebrows with big Sally Jessy glasses. I’ve been putting off getting my prescription changed for too long. This will give me an excuse to get new frames.”
    “Your arm and leg hair goes, too?” I said.
    “All of it,” she said.
    “Wow! Then you won’t have to shave your legs,” I said.
    “That’s what I like about you,” she said. “Always looking on the bright side.”
    I started laughing. She did, too. I could hardly drive the car around the parking garage, we were both laughing so hard. Snort. Giggle. Guffaw. It wasn’t that funny, but I had tears in my eyes. When I almost sideswiped a minivan pulling out of a parking spot on level six, I finally straightened up and behaved myself. I also grabbed the minivan’s spot.
    “This day isn’t going to be so bad after all,” Ithought, as we headed for the hospital elevator. I was wrong again.
    Georgia had chemotherapy once every three weeks. She had radiation every day for six weeks. This was only the second radiation treatment, and I felt sick walking into the hospital. It was the smell. It hit me when the automatic doors opened. I felt my stomach lurch. It must have bothered Georgia, too. I could feel her stiffen beside me, but she didn’t say anything. What was that