“I really do need to get you back into a room,” the nurse interjected.
Josie sighed and nodded. “We’re fine.”
She, of course, wasn’t sure that was true at all. Physically or emotionally, for that matter. But it also looked like all of this was now out of her control. And not in the fun way that being out of control with Grant had been the night before.
Three hours later, Grant followed Jocelyn into her kitchen again.
He got the impression that she wanted him to leave her alone.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
She hadn’t said that. She hadn’t said much at all since the doctor had told her that she needed to have her gall bladder removed.
Grant had asked more questions than she had.
There had been the routine questions and taking of her vital signs. They’d done an exam which had led to a trip to the hospital in Dubuque for an ultrasound which had confirmed the doctor’s suspicion about her inflamed gall bladder.
Apparently an angry gall bladder accounted for all of her symptoms, including the shoulder pain and the fact that the pain had come and gone for the past few weeks. He said he wasn’t surprised that she’d assumed she’d injured her shoulder at first. She was young and healthy and not in the typical demographic for gall bladder issues. But there were always exceptions, and the ultrasound had confirmed gallstones.
He said it wasn’t something that had to be taken care of immediately—as in that night or the next day—but that her symptoms would definitely continue to worsen. She could control them to some extent with what she ate, but that his recommendation was to have the gall bladder removed. He assured her it was a simple surgery with a relatively easy recovery, especially for someone of her age and health.
Jocelyn had gone very quiet after all of that.
Now, back in her kitchen where it had all started, Grant was starting to get antsy with that.
“Are you going to call the surgeon tomorrow?” he asked point-blank. That was really what he wanted to know. He could offer to make her a cup of tea or to rub her feet or to run out for some antacids or something, but she didn’t really need any of that. She needed to have her gall bladder taken out. And he really needed to know when she was going to get this taken care of.
“I don’t know.” She rounded the middle island and went to the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of water. She twisted off the cap and leaned back against the counter, taking a long drink. She seemed lost in thought.
Grant ground his teeth. This was not really any of this business, he reminded himself, but it not being his business didn’t seem to keep him from being concerned about it. Or prying.
“You know what the problem is and you know how to solve it. Why wouldn’t you just make that phone call?” he asked.
“Because I’m not ready to solve it,” she told him, finally meeting his eyes.
She hadn’t even looked at him in over two hours.
That had also been grating on his nerves. Not because he needed her to placate him, but because he got the definite impression she was not okay.
“You’re not ready to solve it?” he repeated, moving forward to lean his hands onto the kitchen island. “What does that mean?”
“It means, I need some time,” she said with a frown.
Lord save him from stubborn women. He had certainly dealt with his share of them. His sister, his grandmother, just to name two. He definitely ran into some in his seminars, but they were in the minority. When women signed up for his seminars, clearly they knew what they were coming for and chose to come to get his advice. They came to him. Because of his expertise. Because they wanted to hear what he had to say. Because they acknowledged that he was someone who knew what he was talking about. He could admit that was a part of the job that he really loved.
“Some time for what?” he asked, trying to not let on that he was gritting his teeth. His fingers gripped the edge of the counter.
“Time to think it through and plan,” she said with a frown. “It’s not something I can just do.”
His eyebrows went up. “It’s something you need to do.”