Hope on the Rocks by Annabeth Albert
Thirty-Two
Quinn
Not done. All day at the clinic, Adam’s words and his stony expression hung heavily in my mind, like a picture frame too weighty for its hook. One wrong move and everything would come tumbling down, me included. He thought we weren’t done, but I simply didn’t see any other path forward. He was running himself into the ground, and that wasn’t likely to change. And yes, he had a point that I was trying to protect myself from getting any more attached. This already hurt so damn much. Another few months and my heart and the rest of me might not survive the fall. As it was, our talk had left every tender place inside me bruised and cracked.
Even with my hurt, there was still the usual parade of emergencies to manage and patients to see. I was damn lucky though, and most of the patients were of the routine variety, so my wandering brain wasn’t truly put to the test.
“So I should use my monitor more often?” Mrs. Rose was one of our regular patients, someone who saw the PA for preventative care as well as coming in for more urgent needs. That morning she’d had an alarmingly high blood sugar reading, and her worried husband had made her come in to discuss steps to avoid a more serious event that would warrant hospitalization or other intervention.
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “Testing your blood sugar more regularly will give you more data to work with.”
“You younger doctors sure like your data.” She tilted her head, gray hair bouncing.
“Data is power.” On that, I was certain, but again, my thoughts drifted to Adam. What data did I have? None of our experiences thus far supported my worries about him ending things when he became too busy. He was the one who’d brought me to his birthday and the one who’d easily called me his boyfriend. All the data said he wanted to make me a priority. But on the other hand, I did have anecdotal evidence that stress and long days seemed to bring on the headaches for Adam. Hell. No easy answers, and I needed to focus on Mrs. Rose. “Without data, we’re guessing at medication tweaks. If you test more often, we can see which medications are making a difference and in what amounts.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll do that.” She nodded emphatically. I needed some of her certainty. I wished I had concrete numbers, some way to predict the future for Adam and me, hard data to guide me forward rather than guesswork.
She folded her hands primly in her lap, way more patient than I deserved that day.
“Good. It’ll help the endocrinologist too if you’ve got more numbers to share.” My mind might be racing, but I tried to keep my focus on Mrs. Rose. “We’re happy to help you here in the clinic, but I do want you to see the specialist too.”
Diabetes was a tricky beast. Some cases could be managed through a general practitioner, like hers at diagnosis, but with more erratic numbers, having input from a specialist would help tremendously. I’d tweaked her insulin dose as a stopgap measure, but I’d rest easier once she saw the specialist.
“I’ll follow up on the referral. Promise. This was scary enough. I’ll test more frequently too. Not going to let you down, Doctor.”
“It’s not me you need to worry about it. Do this for yourself and your family. And for what it’s worth, I believe in you. I trust you to make the changes.”
Oh. Trust. Did I trust Adam to make changes to support his health? I trusted my patients all the time, but did I trust my boyfriend the same way? Maybe that was part of it. I was so sure he’d burn himself out, so I hadn’t been open to the idea that he might make changes. And I was absolutely positive he wouldn’t choose me if he did have to cut back in some areas. But why? Why couldn’t I trust him? I exhaled hard. That truly was the question and not one I had a ready answer for.
“I appreciate you so much.” Mrs. Rose was effusive with her praise, which said I was likely a better actor than I thought, or perhaps she was only being kind by not mentioning my distraction. “You’re one of the best things to happen to Rainbow Cove.”
“So are you,” I said lightly. I’d meant what I’d said to Adam. I didn’t want to move again. Didn’t want to start over. This place was home now, in a way that other places had never been. I didn’t want to run away, but those old fears of being hurt were especially loud right then. “Now, let’s get you set to head home. Janet will be in with your discharge papers, which go over everything we talked about today. If you have another bad morning tomorrow though, you let us know.”
“I don’t want to have to go to the hospital.” She twisted her hands in her lap.
“I know. I don’t want that for you either, but sometimes we need to be in the best place for others to help us.” I struggled to keep an even tone as Adam’s stubbornness again came to mind. He didn’t want to cut back, didn’t want to accept help from anyone. But did you offer to help? Oh, hell. I hadn’t. Not really. I’d let those old fears paralyze me, keep me rooted in place, not attempted to solve the problem as any sort of team. With my patients like Mrs. Rose, I always saw things as a team, a concerted joint effort, but somehow, I’d lost sight of that when it came to Adam.
“Have a nice night, Doctor Strauss. I won’t take any silly risks,” Mrs. Rose assured me as I left the exam room. And later, as I made my way out to my car, I was still mulling over the idea of risks, both silly and necessary. I avoided silly risks—always drove the speed limit, didn’t cut corners, and didn’t do reckless actions. But I also took necessary risks all the time, everything from moving here to Rainbow Cove to the mundane parts of medicine where I had to make a judgment call, taking a risk that treatment or action would pay off.
What if Adam was a necessary risk? Damn it. Maybe I did need to hear him out again after all. Without overthinking it, I found myself driving north to the lake, but his truck wasn’t in his driveway. I felt foolish, like a line in a bad country song, driving by his place with him not even home. Worse, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to see him until that moment when I couldn’t. This wasn’t a conversation to have in the middle of the Rainbow Tavern at all, so I pointed my car toward the beach. I couldn’t be where I truly wanted to be, but I could wait, hoping Adam was right that we weren’t done.
