her confidence sheâd chosen the right man, and right now, she owed him another gigantic thank-you. And maybe another home-cooked meal?
Â
Jon stared down Antonin Grosso. The stocky man sat across from his desk with arms folded, and a stubborn glint in his eyes.
âYour thallium treadmill showed an abnormality suggestive of arterial blockage.â
The man scrubbed his face with a beefy hand. âPlease, doctor, Iâm a butcherâspeak the English!â
Jon grimaced. True, laymanâs terms were his downfall. âYou may have a blocked artery in your heart. I canât stress enough the need for an angiogram. Oh, uh, thatâs a study that will tell me if any of your heart arteries are blocked.â He fished through his patient education pamphlets and found the right one, then handed it to him.
âI no need this test. I feel fine.â
âFeeling fine and being fine are two different things, Mr. Grosso.â Jon ran his hand over his stiff spiky hair and reconsidered the explanation in butcherâs vernacular. âTake your prime beef. It may look fine, but until the U.S. government checks it out and approves it, you wonât knowif itâs diseased or not.â He stared at the man while the analogy computed. âYou look good. You feel good. But your heart isnât so good. This study says so. We may need to unplug the arteries so your heart gets more blood and feels better.â
Something clicked. The manâs expression brightened. âYou mean like that plumbing guy? My pipes need cleaning?â
Jon snapped his fingers and pointed at Mr. Grosso. âExactly! Your pipes may need cleaning out. We need to schedule an appointment for a special test to decide if they do.â
âI donât know. That sounds dangerous. I need to talk to my wife first.â
âOkay. Talk to your wife, but make it soon. Iâll talk to her, too, if youâd like. Bottom lineâyou need this test, Mr. Grosso.â
âOkay, okay, but I feel fine.â He rose to leave, and Jon stood, too.
âItâs Friday. I want to hear from you by next Wednesday.â Jon waved the EKG and treadmill results around to impress the patient that he had solid proof he needed the angiogram. âYou have to get this done ASAP.â
The man glanced over his shoulder, then hung his head when he grabbed the doorknob. âWeâll see,â he mumbled.
Jon sat on the edge of his solid oak behemoth of a desk and shook his head. Before he had the chance to mutter a single curse, something grabbed his attention, and two young ladies rushed him.
âDad!â
âHi, Daddy!â
Amanda and Lacy threw their arms around him and hung tight. Every frustrated physician-oriented thoughtheâd been thinking flew out of his head. His teenage daughters had a way of doing that for him.
âHey!â he said, smiling. âYou guys are early.â
âMom had a hot date,â Lacy said, with a strong hint of sarcasm.
Ack . Cherie hadnât even tried to hide her multiple trysts from the girls since the divorce. Hell, sheâd started extramarital dating before theyâd even finalized the divorce. The thought still boiled his blood.
While deep in a group hug, he noticed René walk up to his door. Her intent expression changed to comprehension when she spied the girls. Since his office was in the back of the building, and the copying machines and bathrooms were in the middle, he knew she only came to this part of the clinic if she needed to talk to him.
She shook her head and flipped her hand in a wave, mouthed âthank youâ and started to walk away. The sparkle in her eyes, since heâd agreed to be her sperm donor, had made everyone in the clinic take note. Heâd heard his nurses comment to each other. âWhatâs up with Dr. Munroe?â âI wonder if sheâs in love!â
His daughters turned their heads toward the
Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins