Laurel saw the needle and whimpered.
“Don’t worry. Just a pinch of skin and poke,” Arianna said. “You don’t have to try and find a vein. You’re going to use your abdomen.”
“My abdomen,” Laurel repeated weakly. “I’m going to look like a pin cushion.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll find plenty of places,” Arianna assured her. “This is going to be easier than you think.”
Laurel took a deep breath. “Okay.”
Arianna showed her the needle and the container she’d dispose of it in when done. She explained how to use it, then she handed it over, saying, “I’m right here so don’t worry.”
“What if I do it wrong?” Laurel fretted.
“You won’t. This is nearly impossible to mess up. Honest.”
Another deep breath, then Laurel pinched a section of skin, poked the needle in and pushed the little plunger. The whole thing was done in a second.
Laurel looked up at Arianna in surprise. “That was pretty easy, actually.”
“Yep,” Arianna confirmed. “I knew you could do it.”
Laurel’s husband arrived in time to hear Arianna praising her and came to the bedside to give her a kiss and a box of valentine candy. “Good for you, hon. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.
Amy’s Decadent Chocolates, best chocolates in all of Kitsap County. Oh, yeah, those would make any woman happy. Arianna felt a pang of jealousy and had to treat it by reminding herself of all Laurel Peterson had just been through. She’d earned her candy.
“Funny how I let that shot loom so big in my mind,” said Laurel.
“Often those challenges of life do, but once we face them and wade in, we find we can make it to the other side,” Arianna said.
As she headed for the nurses’ station, she couldn’t help thinking how true that was proving in her own life. When Wyatt moved out, she’d thought she’d curl up in a ball and die. Yet here she was, still breathing. And more than that, moving forward. Happy with her life. Well, except on days like this.
Normally work was a great antidote for self-pity. Even though she was working part-time, those days she was at the hospital were long—twelve hours. Twelve busy hours of changing faces and needs as she cared for post-op patients. Twelve busy hours of routine sprinkled with gossip and giggles shared with the other nurses. But today was a stumble day. It was hard seeing the flowers that had been delivered to her coworkers.
Ginny Banks, one of the other nurses, was happily sharing the plans she and her husband had for a late dinner. “Brad’s grilling steak, and he bought my favorite cookies at Heart.”
“I love that bakery,” said their supervisor, Karen Hall.
“He’s even making Caesar salad. From a bag,” Ginny said with a laugh, “but that counts.” She caught sight of Arianna’s jealous frown and the corners of her mouth fell. “I’m sorry, Arianna. I shouldn’t be bragging”
Arianna White, Valentine’s wet blanket. “Don’t be,” Arianna hurried to say. “You should brag, and you should have a great night tonight. Don’t pay any attention to me. I need an attitude adjustment.”
“Just remember, you’re well rid of him,” said Ginny.
“I think you should show yourself some love,” said Karen. “By tomorrow all this stuff will be fifty-percent off. You can stock up. That way you can give yourself a dose of chocolate whenever you’re feeling down.”
“Good idea,” said Arianna. Chocolate healed a lot of wounds.
When she checked on the last patient of her day and found the woman’s husband sitting by her bedside, reading poetry, it made her wistful. That was how love should be. Where were the men like that?
Burnt offering, it’s what’s for dinner, Sunny thought miserably, looking at the beef Wellington she’d turned into black leather.
Darn it all, she’d been determined to make sure she and Travis had a perfect Valentine’s Day dinner. He’d wanted to take her out, but she’d insisted on cooking even though cooking wasn’t exactly her greatest skill. But with the internet you didn’t need to be an expert. You downloaded the recipe, bought the ingredients, waved your magic chef’s wand and said abracadabra and there was dinner.
She’d gotten champagne, a deli salad and a cheesecake to go with it, set the table with the fine china that her grandma had given her as a wedding present and the crystal his-and-hers goblets, also a wedding present, along with candles and a pretty floral centerpiece she’d gotten at Paul’s Flowers. She’d assembled her beef Wellington, popped it in the oven and then shut herself in her home office and gotten busy working on a website for a new client.
And lost track of time. She’d been so absorbed she hadn’t heard the oven timer go off. Even her nose had fallen down on the job...until the smell of Beef à la Crematorium drifted upstairs to her.
“Shit,” she muttered, echoing what had come out of her mouth as she’d raced down the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit!”
