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Janelle Raiden was a waifish, twenty-something blonde with cornflower-blue eyes and a ready smile. Usually, she was a serene young lady who laughed easily and always took my advice without argument. Today, however, she was preoccupied and on edge, jumping at every little sound.
“Your blood pressure is on the high side,” I said, undoing the cuff from her slender arm.
“Is it?” She looked up at me, biting her lip.
“Yes.” I rehung the blood pressure sleeve on the wall and sat on the stool in front of her. “Are you under stress?”
“Well…” She gave an uneasy laugh. “I… I’m getting married on Sunday.”
I raised my brows. “This Sunday?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Congratulations.” I was proud of myself for remembering to say that. “Who’s the lucky man?” That was probably something you’d ask, right?
She sighed. “Archie Brady.”
“Not sure I know him.”
“You’ve met him. He was in here last week.” She smiled. “Tall with red hair?”
“Oh.” I nodded. “That was your future husband?”
Her smile was warm. “Yes.”
“He seemed nice.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. To be honest, he hadn’t made much of an impression on me. I really only remembered him because he was very tall and he did indeed have bright red hair.
A line appeared in her smooth forehead. “He is. He’s very nice.”
I racked my brain for something else to ask. “Uh… have you been dating long?” I forced myself not to look at my watch. I knew I had a bunch of other patients out in the waiting room, but I kept my gaze pinned on her. According to Royce and Girdy, this interacting thing was ahugepart of the job.
It was also my least favorite part.
“About six months.” She ran a shaky hand over her pale hair. “I guess you could say it was a whirlwind romance.”
“Indeed.” I studied her, noticing the circles under her eyes and the nervous way her gaze darted around the room. “Something is troubling you.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “No.”
“Yes.” I sighed. “You’re not pregnant.”
“What?” Her cheeks tinted pink. “Of course I’m not.”
“I’m simply trying to figure out why you’re getting married.”
She frowned. “Because I love Archie. Isn’t that normally why people get married?”
Seeing as normal wasn’t really my thing, I ignored the question. “I’d expect you to be on edge this close to your wedding. But I’d also expect you to seem excited. I don’t see any… excitement.”
“I’m plenty excited.” Her laugh was self-conscious.
“Hmmm.”
“Really.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Leaning toward her, I said softly, “You know, Janelle, you can talk to me. I’m a good listener.” That was definitely a lie. I was a horrible listener. My mind was already wandering to all the patients I needed to see and all the phone calls I needed to make. But I must have hidden that well because she actually started to talk.
