Love On Call

“I’m absolutely fine,” Mari said, certain from the glimpse of worry in Glenn’s gaze she’d been right to keep some things to herself. “Let’s go clear the board.”

*

Abby tapped on Presley’s door at a little before eight. She knew Presley would be in, since she kept longer hours than most of the staff. She was behind her desk with her laptop open, her cell phone by her right hand, an iPad propped up against a stack of folders, and a supersize coffee in her left hand. She looked, as always, impeccable in a navy silk blazer and open-collared white silk shirt. A multistrand gold necklace rested just below her collarbone and a square-cut diamond glittered on the ring finger of her left hand. Her blond hair was swept back from her face and fell to just above her shoulders in thick easy waves. She smiled when she saw Abby peer in the doorway. “Hey, come on in.”

“Busy? Of course you are busy.” Abby made for the chair across from Presley. “How many worlds have you conquered this morning already?”

“Only a few,” Presley said, laughing. “What’s going on? Problem in the unit?”

“No, the ER’s fine. Well, we could always use more money, more personnel, more space—” Abby grimaced. “Really, we’re full most of the time and believe me, I’m glad for it, but if we increase our trauma call, we are badly going to need more rooms. Plus the MRI…”

“I’m working on it.”

“Believe me, I know that and I’m appreciative,” Abby said. “This is something personal. It won’t take long.”

Presley immediately sat forward, pushing aside her computer as if whatever major undertaking she’d just been involved in was completely unimportant to her. Her gaze fixed on Abby. “Is something wrong between you and Flann?”

“No, God no. Everything’s fine.” She blushed. “Ridiculous, I know, but perfect is the word I use in my head.”

“Blake is okay?”

“Blake is thriving. Somehow”—she shook her head—“he’s talked me into letting him and Margie volunteer in the ER this summer. If you and Harper agree.”

“I’ll discuss it with Harper and legal, but I don’t see a problem there.” Presley grinned. “The two of them are scary when they get their heads together.”

“Thank God it’s good scary.”

“Amen. So—what do you need?”

Abby didn’t have much time and she knew Presley didn’t either. “Flann wants to get married.”

“Of course she does, she’s more of a nester than Harper and doesn’t have a clue,” Presley said. “She took one look at you and Blake and knew where she belonged.”

Abby’s heart lurched. She hadn’t ever expected to need anyone the way she needed Flann, the way she loved her—body and soul. “She has been using the M-word from day one.”

“And is there a problem?” Presley’s question was gentle. “I know we lost touch for a while, but I think I can read happy all over you.”

“Oh no—I mean, yes, I couldn’t be happier. It’s just that you know Flann—her idea of a proposal is let’s get married and today would be time enough.”

Presley laughed. “Yeah, that’s Flann.”

“I’ve managed to hold her off for a month or so, but I don’t want this to interfere with what you and Harper have planned. After all, you got there first, so to speak.”

“Abby,” Presley said with a shake of her head, “I think it’s great. Harper will be beside herself. And so will Edward and Ida. Besides, I can’t wait to help plan your wedding.”

“Oh, please, anything you can do. Everything.” Abby pushed a hand through her hair, relief pouring through her. “I don’t know anything about weddings.”

“We’ll be old hands at it by the time Harper and I get around to it in—God, is it really only two weeks? We’ve got so much to do, we need another meeting.”

“Brunch this weekend?”

“At the latest.”

“I’ll gather the troops and let everyone know where and when.” Abby stood. “Thank you, thank you.”

Presley came around her desk and gave Abby a quick hug. “I am so happy for you. Flann is fabulous.”

“I really love her,” Abby said quietly. “And so does Blake.”

“Well, Flann is lucky to have you both. Is it a secret?”

“I don’t think Flann has told her parents yet, and we haven’t told Blake, so I’d keep it quiet for a while.”

Carrie said from the doorway, “Keep what quiet?”

Abby looked over her shoulder. “Flann and I are getting married.”

Carrie gave a little victory wiggle. “Good for you. Congratulations. Oh boy, another wedding!”

Abby thought about all she had to do in the ER, and her son who still had to find his way emotionally, physically, and in the community, and stemmed the rising panic. “Oh boy, indeed.”

Chapter Eleven