LITMIR.BIZ

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great room was empty, but I had expected that. If Robert was anywhere, it was going to be our bedroom.

      I rushed for the staircase. Darted upstairs. At the top I turned left and ran down the long hallway.

      The double doors were slightly ajar, and I pushed them open. The light on Robert’s night table was on, illuminating his still form on the bed.

      I gasped. Started to cry.

      “Robert!” I ran toward him.

      And that’s when something amazing happened. He lifted his head and looked at me.

      Utterly surprised, I stopped dead in my tracks. It was as if I had so expected the worst that my brain couldn’t process what I was seeing.

      “Elsie…”

      The sound of Robert’s voice broke the spell. Happiness bubbled out of me in a relieved breath.

      “Thank God!” I quickly looked at Sharon. She clasped her hands together, clearly overjoyed. Then I made my way to the bed, where I sat beside Robert and took his hand in mine.

      “You’re here.” He sounded weak.

      “Oh, baby. I was so worried.” I pressed his hand against my cheek. “What happened?”

      “I’m fine now. That’s all the matters.”

      “You went to the hospital?”

      Robert’s eyes flicked in Sharon’s direction. I got his meaning. He didn’t want to discuss the situation with her here.

      I eased off the bed and crossed the room to the door, where Sharon was standing, respectfully keeping her distance.

      “Well, he’s not dead,” I said, stating the obvious. I heaved a weary sigh. “Thank you so much for getting me here safe and sound. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

      She waved away my comment. “There’s no need to thank me.”

      “I’m sorry we had to cut our weekend short,” I told her.

      “Gimme a break. There’s no need to apologize for that.”

      I nodded, then gave her a hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Update you on Robert’s progress.”

      “Go take care of your husband.”

      “Let me see you out.”

      I walked downstairs with Sharon, saw her to her car, then went back inside. Before rejoining Robert, I went to the kitchen and put on the kettle to make some tea for him.

      The kettle on, I headed upstairs. Robert was still lying in bed.

      I climbed onto the bed beside him and gently stroked his face. “How’re you feeling?”

      “I’m good now.” He reached for my hand. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

      “I called every hospital. No one could tell me if you were admitted. I was going out of my mind with worry. I thought I’d come here and find…and find…”

      “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to put you through that.”

      “Where did you go? University Hospital?”

      “I went to Lake Norman.”

      “Weird,” I said. I’d phoned Lake Norman Regional Medical Center first. “I called there. A few times. They said they didn’t have you in their system.”

      “Perhaps because I was in Emergency.”

      “Perhaps,” I acknowledged. After a beat, I went on. “Obviously, you didn’t have a heart attack.”

      “I didn’t.” Robert chuckled softly. “You’ll think this is silly. It was gas pains.”

      Three years ago, I’d rushed Robert to the hospital when he’d been having chest pains. We’d feared a heart attack, but we’d learned that he actually had a gas bubble in his chest that was causing the pain.

      “Like the last time,” I said.

      “Yes.” Again, Robert chuckled. “Just like the last time.”

      “Well.” I planted a kiss on my husband’s soft cheek. “Thank God it wasn’t a heart attack. I really freaked out, Robert. All the way driving here, I was…”

      “I’m sorry about your weekend.”

      “Don’t apologize. Of course I had to come home.” I gazed down at him, once again feeling guilty for thinking that he and I might be headed for divorce. Biting back that thought, I said, “Look, I’ve got the kettle on. Would you like some peppermint tea?”

      “Oh, that would be nice.”

      “All right. I’ll be back up soon.”

      Downstairs, I prepared tea for both of us, and arranged the cups on a silver tray, along with two spoons and a jar of honey.

      “Here you go,” I said, setting the tray on the large night table closest to Robert. We had a four-poster bed, with oversize nightstands and dressers. I’d thought the tables too large when I’d first seen them, but the marble surface did come in handy when extra space was needed.

      Robert eased himself up and reached for a cup. “Thank you.”

      “I didn’t put any honey in it.”

      “Oh, it’s fine like this.”

      “By the way, how did you get home?” I asked.

      “Pardon me?”

      “From the hospital. You called for an ambulance, right?”

      “Oh. Right. Yes, yes I did.”

      “So how did you get home?”

      “I…I took a taxi.”

      “You could have waited for me at the hospital. I would have picked you up.”

      “It was no bother.”

      I glanced at the bedside clock. “You made it through the E.R. in very good time.” It was a little after 2:00 a.m., and Robert had called me just before ten. Sharon and I had wasted no time in checking out, but it still took us about three and a half hours to get home.

      “A man my age who goes to Emergency with chest pains…The doctors don’t want to take any chances.”

      “Of course not. And I’m glad. I just wish I’d been here for you.”

      Robert sipped more of his tea. He finished about half of it before putting the cup back on the tray. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m very tired. I’d like to get some sleep.”

      “It’s very late. We both need to get some sleep.” I gave my husband a lingering kiss on the lips. I collected the tray and cups and took them down to the kitchen.

      By the time I came back upstairs, Robert was asleep, his lips parted as he snored quietly.

      I went to the master bathroom. Seeing my reflection in the mirror, I groaned. I looked awful. The worry had had its effect on me, but that was to be expected. Thank God the crisis had passed.

      The last time Robert had gone to the hospital for chest pains and learned it was gas, the E.R. doctor had given him a prescription for lactulose—a thick, sugary liquid that he’d complained about taking, though it had worked wonders.

      I didn’t see a bottle of lactulose on the bathroom counter, or any other prescription bottle. I searched the medicine cabinet, but once again saw nothing other than the regular medicines Robert was already taking.

      Something made me head downstairs to the kitchen again. I couldn’t remember if the prescription Robert had been given last time was supposed to be stored in the fridge. But there was no lactulose in our refrigerator, either.

       Was

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