through the house, and was at the front door when the EMTs came up the steps.
“In here,” she said, and swung the door inward.
They entered, pushing a gurney, and followed her through the grand hall to the den.
It was obvious how weak Merlin was when they helped him to his feet, and then they covered him over and strapped him on before taking him out.
Wyrick watched until he was safely inside and the ambulance was gone. Then she locked the house up and went back downstairs to look for info on the nursing situation. When she found what she needed, she made two calls. One to hospice, and one to his private nursing company.
“Can you get someone here by this evening?” Wyrick asked.
“Yes. Mr. Merlin notified us far enough in advance that we’ve had a tentative schedule in place. I’ll have to juggle a couple of nurses to get one there this soon, but after we get the schedule ironed out, he will have regulars.”
“And they understand that I will be overseeing his care?” Wyrick said.
“Yes, ma’am. We have all of his instructions and wishes, and they’re very clear. All you’ll have to do is introduce yourself and give them your contact information. You won’t be responsible for any of his medical care. Our nurses will follow his doctor’s directives.”
“But I will be in and out, to satisfy myself that his care is top-notch and he is comfortable. I promised him I would do that, so that understanding is paramount,” Wyrick said.
“Yes, ma’am. Of course. Don’t worry. Just let us know if they’re bringing him back to his home or if they hospitalized him temporarily.”
“I will,” Wyrick said, and disconnected.
She’d done all she knew to do for him, but she was still a little anxious. The only other person she felt responsible for was Charlie. In her mind, keeping him safe and in one piece was part of her job. Now there was Merlin, needing care on a level she could not provide. But she would be there to make sure the people who did know how to care for him did it right.
About four hours later, Wyrick was in the main house when the ambulance brought Merlin back. She had a wheelchair waiting. He was weak and nauseated from the pain meds they’d given him, and as soon as they got him situated, they were gone.
“Your nurse is on the way,” Wyrick said.
“Thank you,” Merlin said. “I had an infusion while I was there and I’m feeling pretty shaky.”
“When I was doing chemo, sometimes meds on an empty stomach made me sick. Have you eaten anything today?” Wyrick asked.
“A cup of coffee this morning. I was too shaky for making food.”
“How about a little soup?” Wyrick asked.
“I don’t want you cooking for me,” Merlin said.
“I don’t cook for anyone, but for you, I’ll open a can of soup.”
Merlin chuckled. “You are good for me. Open the soup.”
“Because I like you, I will also heat it,” Wyrick said, and wheeled him into the kitchen with her.
She’d already looked through his pantry while he was gone, and knew the soups were there, so she chose noodle soup, put it in a bowl and heated it in the microwave, then rolled him to the kitchen table.
But when she put the soup in front of him, his hands were shaking too much to get the soup into his mouth.
“May I?” she asked, and took the spoon out of his hands and fed him.
By then, he was too weak to argue and let her spoon little bites into his mouth until he was full, then cried when she wiped a drip of soup from his chin.
“Dammit, I’m sorry. I hate being helpless,” he said.
“Don’t ever apologize to me again,” Wyrick snapped. “You didn’t ask for this. Nobody asks for this shit. I am doing this because I know exactly how you’re feeling, and because someone once did this for me.”
Merlin sighed. “Then thank you. Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.”
“How long did you do chemo before you were cured?”
Wyrick took a deep breath and then turned and faced him.
“They didn’t cure me. They told Cyrus Parks they’d done all they could for me. The fiancé I had said he didn’t want to watch me die and dumped me, and Parks considered me a failure because of some defect they had not detected in my DNA, and let me go.”
The shock on Merlin’s face was telling.
“Dear God. Monsters,” he muttered. Then it hit him. “But