When the drapery was pushed aside, they stopped dead.
Chester was sitting up and smiling, as chipper and alert as a daisy.
“For chrissake,” he said, “don’t just stand there. One a’ them nurses might see me in this getup an’ be overcome by m’ physical attractions.”
As they went to his bedside, A.J. didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In spite of the tubes coming out of his body and all the machines whirling around him, the man looked fine. His color was back and his eyes were free of the terrifying opaqueness of pain. She promptly burst into tears, having prepared herself for everything but the man’s being all right.
Chester and the doctor looked at her awkwardly. Devlin put an arm around her, holding her tight.
“What the hell happened?” he asked.
The doctor began to explain, using medical terms that didn’t register.
“Cajun gumbo got me a good one,” Chester interrupted, grinning.
“What?” Devlin pegged the doctor with a stare.
“In plain English, gastric distress.”
“Indigestion? As in the plop, plop, fizz, fizz variety?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. He suffers from acid reflux that—”
“M’ crawfish backed up on me.” Chester shot them all a cheeky grin as Devlin laughed out loud with relief.
“Actually, it is a real concern,” the doctor said. “He’s got to change his eating habits or this will happen again. His cholesterol is too high and he’s not as young as he thinks he is. He needs to cut back on his physical labor and eat better.”
“I told you this was going to happen.” Devlin was shaking his head. “All that hot, spicy food finally caught up with you. Just because you stick with the bland stuff for breakfast doesn’t mean you can go hog wild in the afternoon.”
“Bland food?” the doctor said.
“Long story,” Chester mumbled.
Devlin took the time to fill in the details. When he was finished, the physician was dumbfounded and the patient was looking sheepish.
“Mr. Raymond, why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“Didn’t think it really mattered.”
“You need to see a nutritionist.” The man scribbled on a piece of paper. “Here is a prescription-strength antacid and the name of someone who can work with you on that diet of yours.”
“Why do I need a nutritionist?”
“Sir, I’ve heard a lot of stories but your eating habits are right up there with the best of them. Call me if you need anything.”
With a nod to A.J. and Devlin, the doctor left.
“Don’t see why I need to go see someone about what I choose to put in my face,” Chester grumbled.
“You catch the MD after the guy’s name?” Devlin said. “It doesn’t stand for Me Dummy. If it did, you’d have the initials after yours.”
A.J. reached for Chester’s rough, worn hand. It felt like shoe leather and gripped hers back tightly. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“I didn’t mean to worry the two a’ you.”
“Well, you sure as hell did,” Devlin told him gruffly. “We’ve been out of our wits.”
“Listen, I ain’t leavin’ you yet, boy,” Chester said emotionally.
“Thank God for that. I’m not ready to let you go.”
Wiping his eyes in the crook of his elbow, Chester cleared his throat. “So, can we unplug me and get me outta here? I’d justa soon have this all behind me and forget about it.”
“There’s going to be no forgetting about this. Things are going to change,” Devlin warned.
“Now, wait a minute. I don’t need no keeper.”
“Do what the doctor said and you won’t have one.”
“What the hell does he know? He looks like a paperboy.”
“Who’s the one who ended up in the ambulance?”
“Just checkin’ out the interior. Always wanted to know what the inside a’ one looked like.”
Just then, a nurse swept aside the curtain.
“You ready to go home?” she asked with a reassuring smile.
“We’ll go wait outside,” Devlin said, his arm going around A.J.’s shoulders.
“I’ll tell ya one thing,” Chester said as the nurse went to work. “I’m never mixin’ shellfish an’ pineapple upside-down cake again.”
It was a serious undertaking to wedge everyone into the convertible with the top up. A.J. had to move her seat forward as far as it could go to give Devlin any legroom as he squeezed into the back. Hunched over the steering wheel, she found driving difficult but at least Chester was comfortable up front. He liked it so much, he announced that he was going to invest in a chauffeur with his bingo money.
By the time they pulled up to the man’s small home, which was buried in the woods not far from the farmhouse, night had fallen. Devlin tried his best to con Chester into staying with them for a while but the man refused.
“Can we at least bring you dinner?” A.J. asked.
Chester shook his head. “I’ve got some chicken soup and saltines. Think I’m goin’ to take it easy tonight.”
“Wise idea. You may want to stick with white food for a week or so.”
“I was thinking the right same thing.” Chester got out of the car and Devlin walked him to the door. An argument ensued.
“Don’t bother showing up to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t be tellin’ me what to do. I don’t curry no favor over bossy types.”
“If that were true, you and I would have parted ways years ago.”
“I only make an exception for you a’cause ya need me so badly.”
“I’ll grant you that, but don’t change the subject. You’re taking a few days off.”
“One.”
“Several.”
“One.”
Devlin cursed.
“You ain’t winnin’ this round, boy. Now go take your woman home.”
A.J., who could hear them through the open car door, smiled at the words as she waved good night to Chester. When Devlin came back and sat down in the passenger seat, he gave her a long, appreciative look.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked as they headed home.
“I like the idea of being your woman.”
She felt his hand caress her thigh. “So do I.”
They were pulling up in front of the barn when she asked, “Does Chester do anything other than play bingo once a week?”