As I post this, there is a literal tornado warning going on. It's also exceptionally late and I'm terrified. I don't do storms. That's my only issue with being a Southerner. Not cool, Mother Nature, not cool. But this goes to show you how much I love you all for all of your continued support. :)
This chapter was based on the Little Big Town song "Bones." I think this is the most appropriately titled chapter yet. I encourage you to at least look up the lyrics. It could have even served as the title of this whole story.
DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor. I know nothing about being a doctor or medicine. I'm a music journalist and a social media professional and I think a shot of whiskey is a better remedy for a cough than any antibiotic. See? Not a doctor. I looked up all medical 'things' in this chapter through Google. So don't take this as entirely accurate and don't use it to go diagnose yourself. That's what WebMD is for. Not really, but you get it. Again, I'm not a doctor in any way shape or form.
DISCLAIMER II: Us Southerners, we act like this when it snows. If you live below the Mason-Dixon line, you can't deny it. Just embrace it.
THINGS I OWN: A NOAA weather radio. And every weather alert app known to man kind. THINGS I DON'T OWN: Hart of Dixie.
"This can't be good for me," Zoe commented, tearing off another piece of the large, gooey cinnamon roll sitting on the bar in front of her.
"You don't a weight a hundred pounds soakin' wet. I don't even want to hear it," Shelly told her from where she was brewing several pots of coffee. The Rammer Jammer wasn't technically open yet, but Zoe was seated at the bar, nibbling on a fresh out of the oven cinnamon bun dripping in sweet icing and anxiously awaiting the coffee to finish.
"I'll have you know I've gained five pounds since I moved here," Zoe said indignantly. "You Southerners can't eat anything unless it's rolled in batter and fried in stick of butter."
"Five whole pounds on that tiny little body of yours? Woo freakin' hoo," Shelly retorted.
"Are you always so cheerful in the mornings?"
"You used to be a real ray of sunshine yourself," Shelly reminded her. "Then you make it all Facebook official with Wade and everything's suddenly comin' up daisies. He ain't never been too bad in the mornings, but I've seen you at your finest." She pulled a pretzel stick out of her pocket and stuffed it in her mouth. Zoe made a face.
"Please tell me those are freshly stolen."
"What? The ones in my pocket?" Shelly asked, pulling several more out of a front pocket. "Got them last night. They're still good." Zoe shook her head in disgust and tore off another piece of cinnamon roll.
"Shelly, don't harass the customers," Wade said, walking out of the back. "'Specially ones that happen to be my girlfriend." Zoe smiled. It had been a couple of days since they'd made their relationship official and she was still getting used to being referred to as 'Wade's girlfriend.' She liked it though, didn't even mind all the gossip surrounding them. If nothing else, it was a change from the talk about the hem of her shorts.
"You were more fun when you were chasin' after her like a love sick puppy dog," Shelly said before she disappeared into the kitchen.
"Is this your mom's recipe?" Zoe asked, shoving more of the cinnamon roll in her mouth.
"Nah. That's one of Jim's, actually. He got here around four this mornin' to make 'em up. Needless to say, we don't serve cinnamon rolls much."
"They're delicious," she said. "Fattening. Entirely unhealthy. But delicious."
"I'll let Jim know you approve. Coffee?"
"To go, please. I have some charts I need to finish before the clinic opens this morning." Wade poured her coffee and mixed in sugar and creamer just the way she liked it. "Thank you," she said when he slid it to her. She stuffed the last bit of her roll into her mouth then stood to put on her coat.
"I will say, you are rather prepared for cold weather. Or maybe nuclear fallout, given how many layers you're puttin' on," Wade stated, watching as she buttoned her heavy pea coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on some gloves.
The weather had turned still colder and though it was still at least 20 degrees warmer than it was in New York, Zoe had grown used to the warm weather and so the cold had shocked her system, just like it had the rest of the Bluebellians. She'd heard on the news the night before that it was some of the coldest temperatures South Alabama had seen in 15 years and then, as she's walked from Lavon's to her carriage house shivering in her thin jacket, had wondered how she'd dealt with New York's chill all those years.
"Cold weather is the one thing I've encountered since moving to Bluebell that I'm familiar with," Zoe countered. "Pet alligators, gumbo contests, those things I don't get. But cold weather? I get cold weather." Wade picked up her medical bag and the giant tote she called a purse and walked her out, unlocking the door to open for breakfast as he went.
"I guess I'll see you this evenin,'" he said.
"Well, I will need someone to start a fire for me," Zoe said seriously. Wade laughed. He'd stopped by under the pretense of getting a fire going for her the last couple of nights and had ended up staying more often than not. She didn't hate it.
"I could do more than that," he said suggestively even though they'd gone no farther than a few heavy make out sessions.
"We'll see," Zoe countered. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly. "See you later."
"Bye, Zoe," he replied, passing her her bags.
She slung her purse over her shoulder and stuffed her fee gloved hand into her coat pocket as she walked the short distance to the clinic. It was earlier than usual, but now that she actually had patients coming to see her of their own free will, she was busier than usual. She'd gotten behind in her charts and wanted to catch them up before her first patient of the day. She had been seated at her desk for nearly an hour when she heard Addie come in.
"You're at it early," Addie said, walking into Zoe's office.
"I got behind in charting, had to catch up," Zoe answered, even as she signed a note.
"But not before an early morning make out session on the sidewalk in front of the Rammer Jammer." Zoe fixed her eyes on Addie who was smirking at her as she made her way out of her coat.
"Two things," Zoe said, holding up two fingers. "First, it was one short kiss. It was strictly G-rated. No tonsil hockey, no need for parents to accompany kids 13 and under down the sidewalk. Second of all, how is that already all over town? It was 6:30 in the morning!"
"Everyone knows Agnes gets up with the chickens to bake her bread for the day. She saw y'all two out the bakery window. She told me all about it when I stopped by to place an order for a couple dozen of her cupcakes to send to school for my youngest boy's birthday the day after tomorrow."
"What did everyone talk about before I came to town?" Zoe asked.
"Well, let's see," Addie said, thinking back. "George Tucker got talked about a lot. First he left for that big, fancy city of yours, then he came back for Lemon so the old bitties loved that, thought it was some kind of romantic. The Breelands, of course. Between Mrs. Breeland running off and Lemon and her sister wearing on their daddy, they were a hot topic of conversation, especially when Lemon was a teenager. And Wade, of course, what girl he'd been with that week, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, how much had his daddy drank, what that sister of his was up to, all popular topics. I've got to say, Zoe, you really spiced up the talking points around here."
"Glad I could help," Zoe muttered, making another note in a chart.
Addie left to start preparing the clinic for the day. It was Tuesday which meant Brick would be late, moseying in sometime around ten after he'd enjoyed a sleep in and a hot breakfast. Zoe had a theory he came in late on Tuesdays so he could stay up late and watch football on Monday nights and to cover it, kept the off hours all year long. She'd asked him about it once, but he'd excused himself rather quickly, as good as confirming to her that she was right. She was working on the last chart when Addie reappeared in her office.
"Dr. Hart, there's a patient here to see you," she said. Zoe glanced at the clock. It was quarter to eight.
"Tell them we open at 8:00. I'll see them then, before my 8:30 gets here. Unless it's an emergency."
"I told them that already, but they're determined to see you now. Doesn't seem like an emergency, but they're insistent. And Zoe, you might want to go ahead and take a look at them." Addie gave her a meaningful look. Curiosity got the better of Zoe. She closed the chart, pulled on her white coat, and followed Addie out into the waiting room. Earl Kinsella was sitting in a corner chair, anxiously tapping his fingers against his leg. She exchanged a look with Addie who shrugged and returned to her spot behind the front desk.
"Earl?" Zoe asked.
Earl looked up at her. Zoe instantly recognized the whites of his eyes were yellowing as was his skin. "Mornin' Dr. Hart," he muttered through dry, cracked lips.
"You know we're technically not open yet, right?" she asked. She tried to find a physical ailment that might bring him to a doctor's office, but he was too bundled up in layers of jackets and shirts that she couldn't spot anything right off hand and he didn't seem to have a cough or cold or anything along those lines.
"Might have been on purpose," he admitted. "Didn't want nobody to see me if I could help it."
"Good luck with that," Zoe muttered under her breath. "Why don't we go back to my exam room? You can tell me what's going on once we're in there."
Earl pushed himself into a shaky standing position and took a moment to gather himself before he started walking slowly towards the exam room. Zoe frowned. His actions weren't because he was intoxicated but because he simply didn't have the strength to put one foot in front of the other. She helped him onto the exam table and opened his chart while he struggled out of a few of his layers.
From the looks of things, Earl hadn't seen a doctor, at least not one in Bluebell, in years. She quickly read over the last few notes in Harley's handwriting, all quite dated, all various ways of saying Earl needed to quit drinking desperately.
"So what brings you in?" Zoe asked, clipboard in hand.
"This is just between you and me, right?" Earl asked. He looked worried. "You a doctor, you can't tell nobody what I say, right?" Zoe nodded.
"Doctor-patient confidentiality," she confirmed. "Anything you say to me while we're in this clinic and I'm treating you as a patient remains between you and me and no one else. Except maybe God, but he's not going to tell. The only exception is if you tell me you're planning on killing someone. Then I might have to make a couple calls."
"So you won't tell my son?" Earl pressed. "I know you two are datin' pretty hot an' heavy. I don't want him knowin' nothin.' Or Meredith neither."
"I won't tell Wade or Meredith a thing," Zoe promised. "You're my patient, I'm your doctor. This is between me and you. So what's going on? Why are here to see me?"
That was when she noticed his swollen stomach, now free of layers of clothing. She hadn't seen him since the night he stumbled through Wade's yard on his way downtown. In fact, she realized, Earl hadn't made his appearance on the hardware store roof in the last three months. She knew Wade had seen him a handful of times, but he hadn't mentioned anything out of the ordinary. He probably figured Earl's swollen stomach was the result of bad nutrition and too much alcohol. But Zoe knew better. If he were a woman, people would mistake him for being pregnant and since men didn't get pregnant, there was something else going on.
"I ain't feelin' right, Doc," Earl told her. Zoe was vaguely reminded of another Kinsella who called her doc. "I ain't got no energy. I ain't got no strength neither, can hardly pick up my glass."
"That's not a bad thing," Zoe mumbled, then reminded herself she was supposed to be working on her bedside manner. Earl didn't hear her.
"I want to sleep all the dang time. I keep gettin' these bruises, don't know where they comin' from. And my skin's got this red spider-lookin' rash on it, 'specially over my belly."
"What about your appetite?" Zoe asked.
"Ain't got none. I ain't ate a meal in weeks. Don't ever eat much, no how. But my stomach? It just keeps gettin' bigger, see?" Zoe put aside her clipboard and approached Earl. She did a thorough physical assessment, wishing desperately she had some record of what Earl's baseline was. She did her best to hide her deepening frown from him as she felt his fluid filled stomach. She could barely feel his liver, dangerously enlarged, through the fluid.
"You can sit up now," Zoe told him. Earl did so, pulling his undershirt down. It was too small though, not able to cover his swollen belly.
"What's wrong with me, Doc?"
"Well, I need to run some tests," Zoe told him. "I'll have Addie come in and draw some blood in a few minutes and get you prepped for an ultrasound. Ideally, I'd like to send you to Mobile for more testing, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen, is it?" Earl shook his head.
"I ain't goin' to Mobile," he confirmed. "Absolutely not. I came to you 'cause you Harley Wilkes' daughter and I thought a lot of him. If there's a test you can't do here, then I won't be havin' it." Normally, she would have all but demanded that a patient with Earl's symptoms be treated somewhere other than a small town clinic. But she knew the Kinsella family's history and that told her Earl wasn't about to set foot in a Mobile hospital.
"I have to be upfront with you, Earl. I'd really like you to have a CT scan and an endoscopy at the least, maybe a few more tests. But if you're not willing to go to a specialist, I'll have to make do with what I have here which is a battery of blood tests and an ultrasound machine."
"Do what you gotta do," Earl said with a shrug. It was a gesture he seemed to have passed to his son. "But can you at least take a guess as to what's wrong with me?" Zoe pursed her lips. This was hard anyway, delivering bad news, but it was even harder being that her patient was Wade's father.
"Without having your test results in front of me, this is, essentially, my opinion. A guess, if you will." Zoe waited for Earl to nod in understanding. "Earl, I think you have cirrhosis of the liver." She watched as her words registered with Earl.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Putting it as simply as I can, cirrhosis is a progressive disease where the healthy liver tissue is replaced with scar tissue which eventually prevents the liver from functioning properly. The scar tissue blocks the flow of blood through the liver and slows the processing of nutrients, hormones, things like that. It also slows down the production of proteins and other substances."
"Sounds serious," Earl said.
"It is," Zoe confirmed. "Very serious. But before we panic, I'm going to order a full set of blood tests and do an ultrasound. We won't know anything for sure until then, okay?" Earl nodded.
"Will it kill me?" he asked. Zoe hesitated to answer. It was a perfectly normal question, one she would expect. With most patients, they would ask in order to grip the magnitude of their diagnosis and then follow it up by asking about treatment options and survival rates. Something told Zoe that Earl wouldn't be concerned with those things.
"It can," she told him. "But we're not thinking about that right now. We have to make a diagnosis first."
"Can you make it quick?" he asked. "I want to get out of here before Breeland comes in. Before the town wakes up good too." Zoe took pity on him and instead of calling for Addie, started the workup herself.
"You're going to feel a pinch," she told him just before she stuck the first needle under his skin. He didn't flinch.
"My boy really cares 'bout you," Earl commented. "I ain't seen him much lately, but he always talks 'bout you when he drops by."
"Well I really care about him," Zoe said as she worked. "You've got a great son."
"You remind me of his momma," Earl continued. "Don't look a thing like her, but there's somethin' 'bout you all the same. You a lot like your daddy too."
"People tell me that, but I don't buy it. Harley was a much better person than I'll ever be." Zoe expertly swapped out vials and watched as a second one started to fill with blood.
"I don't buy that you're the Yankee bitch people think you are," Earl said bluntly. "I 'member you down there, tryin' to get me off the roof 'fore Wade came. And I heard 'bout how you helped that Mabel and her baby when you first got here. Don't think for a second I was fooled by Wade crashin' that tractor neither. Wade learned to drive on a tractor, he ain't gonna crash one drivin' down a straight street no faster than a snail's crawl. You was helpin' that blond Belle."
Zoe didn't say anything, pretending to be absorbed in taking his blood. It was like Earl was all knowing, all seeing. She supposed he was one of the only people in Bluebell who could just disappear, blend in. People knew him as the town drunk, walked right past him on the street, dismissing him as a waste of time. They'd never realize he was watching, taking everything in at face value. She almost envied him for that.
"That mornin' when I woke up at Wade's and saw you and him sleepin' on the couch? Reminded me of me and his momma. He really likes you, that boy of mine. I reckon he might even be in love with you." Zoe's hand shook ever so slightly as she capped the vial and bandaged his arm.
"All done," she said. "We'll do the ultrasound really quick and then you can go, okay? I have to send these off to the lab so it'll be a few days before we have a diagnosis of any sort."
"Whatever you gotta do, Doc."
Zoe put all of her focus into the ultrasound, watching the screen intently, her frown deepening as her suspicions were confirmed. His liver was dangerously enlarged and not at all healthy, damaged by years of heavy drinking and a bad diet. His stomach was full of fluid that needed to come out. There were so many reasons he needed to go to a better-equipped facility, but she knew even asking was useless. She turned off the machine and took a moment to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and pull her emotions out of it before she turned to him.
"The results should be back in a couple of days," she told him. "Until then, I'm going to give you some pills to take, some that will relieve your symptoms and fluid pills that should help with the fluid you're retaining in your abdomen. And Earl, I really need you to avoid alcohol. It's extremely important that you stop drinking immediately."
"Done tried that, Doc. Quittin' ain't easy so I ain't gonna do it." Zoe sighed.
"Try," she said with conviction though understanding she was dealing with an addict. "And make sure you come back here for your test results. We'll go from there."
"You ain't gonna tell nobody, right?" Earl asked as he started pulling on his shirts and jackets. "'Specially not my boy?"
"I'm your doctor. This is completely between us," Zoe confirmed yet again. "And I'll tell you what. It's Tuesday. Your results should be in sometime Thursday. Come early Friday morning, around 7:00. I'll get you in and out before Brick even leaves his house."
"I will," Earl promised. He reached for Zoe's hand and gave it a quick, affectionate squeeze. "You take care of my boy, won't you?" Zoe nodded, seeing a different side of Earl, a side of him that was hidden underneath his usually inebriated state. He wasn't father of the year, but there was a lot more to him than he let on. That was another trait he'd passed on to his son. She followed him out into the waiting room and handed him several packages of sample pills with instructions on what to take and when. She stood at the window and watched him make his way down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the Rammer Jammer.
"I ain't no doctor, but I know enough about medicine to know his liver done finally had enough. He's as yellow as a daffodil in the springtime." Addie commented, coming to stand by Zoe.
"Yeah," Zoe said softly. "I wanted to refer him to Mobile so he could have a CT and a few other tests we can't run here but I knew he'd never go for it. He shut me down as soon as I mentioned it. The best I can do is a full blood work up and an ultrasound."
"Cirrhosis of the liver?" Addie guessed. Zoe nodded.
"I'm almost certain. I'm also almost certain that's not his only health problem."
"Bless his heart," Addie muttered under her breath.
"I told him no alcohol but that's like telling a fish no water," Zoe said. "He doesn't want Wade or Meredith to know. I can't tell them because I'm his doctor, but I have a feeling he's not planning on telling them something's wrong any time soon either."
"I seriously doubt it," Addie confirmed. The two women watched as Earl wandered up to the liquor store and tried the handle. It wouldn't be open for hours, but that didn't seem to faze Earl. He sat down on a nearby bench, content to wait until he could buy the very thing that was killing him.
The following evening, Zoe trooped into Lavon's, starving and her mind full of worries over not just Earl but another patient, an elderly lady who had caught pneumonia and wasn't responding to any treatment she or Brick had tried so far. Lavon and Wade were already there, their backs turned to Zoe as they intently started at the TV.
"You'd think grown men would have something better to do with their evenings than play video games," she stated to announce her presence even though she could clearly see they were watching something on the local news rather than playing Xbox. Both of them looked over their shoulder.
"Hey, Big Z," Lavon mumbled out, already turning his attention back to the TV. "Beef stew on the stove if you want some." Wade gave her a grin.
"Hey, Zoe," he said, holding his arm out for her. She went to him and let him pull her into a quick hug. She squeezed him tightly. She'd purposefully avoided him since her early morning visit from Earl the previous day which had turned out rather easy since Wade had left the Rammer Jammer and went out cutting some wood for plantation fireplaces which had somehow led him to helping George with a broken water tank that then ended in a couple drinks at the Rammer Jammer. Zoe was tucking into bed when she heard his car pull up at his place and it had been easy to use work as her excuse to avoid him for a second day. Now that it was evening and she'd gone a day and a half without seeing him, she'd started to miss him. It was good to be in his arms again.
"What are you two so interested in?" she asked, pulling away from him. She ladled some strew into a bowl.
"J.J. Reynolds was right," Lavon said. "Looks like Bluebell's getting some snow starting sometime tonight."
"It snows down here?" Zoe asked. She sat down where she could see the TV. She found it hard to believe. She'd been wearing shorts comfortably as recently as two weeks ago.
"Hardly ever," Wade answered. "Ain't seen nothin' you could even measure in what, Lavon? Four, five years?"
"Something like that," Lavon confirmed. "It was what? Two inches?"
"Schools were closed for a week," Wade said as he sat down next to Zoe.
"For two inches of snow?" Zoe asked. "Seriously?"
"That's a blizzard down here, Big Z. Weatherman says we could get up to four inches this time. I might have to ask the governor to declare a state of emergency if that happens." Zoe snorted into her soup. Growing up in New York, she was old hat when it came to dealing with snow. Only when the rare blizzard hit the city did things stop and even then it wasn't for long. She was hard pressed to believe the citizens of Bluebell were that concerned over a couple inches of snow that, given how far south they were, would probably melt away within a day or so.
"I think Dr. Hart is in for a surprise, Mr. Mayor," Wade commented.
"I think so," Lavon agreed.
"I think you need to experience a real snowstorm before you go exercising your mayoral power and declaring emergencies."
"You'll see," Wade told her. "It's like the heat wave all over again." Zoe raised an eyebrow at him.
"Except the part where it's below freezing outside?" Wade slid his stool closer to her.
"Just like the heat makes people crazy, so does the snow. We don't get the white stuff down here much so when it does come, it's an excuse to go a little bit crazy." Zoe shook her head. Lavon studied her for several moments before turning to Wade.
"You know Wade, I reckon we're gonna be needing a few supplies to get us through the storm." Wade nodded, catching on.
"Some bread, milk, maybe some eggs." Lavon nodded along, looking deep in thought. Zoe continued eating her stew, listening in to the two act like Armageddon was upon them.
"I need some peanut butter," he said thoughtfully. "You know how Mayor Hayes loves his peanut butter."
"I reckon we might need some more cereal too. Maybe some of them Pop Tarts too, stuff that'll keep okay if the power goes out." Zoe rolled her eyes. The two men looked at each other.
"Not it!" Wade suddenly burst out, holding up his hands. Zoe jumped and looked at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Not it!" Lavon called seconds later. He bounced on his toes, pointing at Zoe. "Zoe wins!" Zoe frowned, confused.
"Win what?" she asked. "What are you two talking about?" She narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. "What are you setting me up for? If it's another Founder's Day parade or some kind of fried chicken cook off or something, you can forget it. I'm out."
"You, Zoe, did not call 'not it' fast enough," Lavon answered. "Therefore, you get to go grocery shopping. Before the snow starts, which means you have to go tonight." Zoe couldn't understand what they were making such a big deal about.
"Fine. I'll go get your stupid milk and your stupid peanut butter and your stupid Pop Tarts," she said. "I don't see what the big deal is."
"You know, since it's cold out and I'm tryin' to be a good boyfriend and all, I'll even drive you. But you get to do all the shoppin.' I'll keep the car warm," Wade said.
"You know what? I think I'll ride along, sit in the car with Wade, keep him company. Hurry up and finish that stew. We got to get going."
"Both of you are insane," Zoe said. She purposefully took her time eating the rest of her stew. Then got a second bowl for spite.
Zoe took in the scene in front of her in horror. Every man, woman and child in Bluebell could be found in the small supermarket, frantically filling their carts with any and everything.
"What…?" she muttered, standing just inside the door and taking it all in. Lavon and Wade stood behind her, self-satisfied smirks on their faces. Sally Rogers rushed by, her cart brimming with milk, bread and bottled water, her toddler son barely visible among all the groceries. Her young daughter was left to do her best to keep up.
"It's gonna snow in Bluebell," Wade said. "'Member what I said 'bout snow makin' people crazy? Well, here you go. Crazy." Lavon stepped forward, pulling a folded piece of notebook paper from the pocket of his jacket.
"I took the liberty of making you a grocery list," he said, handing Zoe the folded up paper. "I'll be mingling with my people while you shop." Lavon left them, hailing an older woman Zoe didn't know as he went. Wade stepped closer to Zoe to get out of the way of the door.
"This is insane," Zoe told him. "It's just snow!"
"Snow. In South Alabama," Wade reminded her. "We got some freezin' rain last winter – made a real mess of things for about two days. Lloyd's Auto Body Shop got enough work he coulda closed for the rest of the year and been set. Kids didn't go to school all week. Matter of fact, they already shut down schools for tomorrow, probably won't go the rest the week." Zoe looked at him.
"It's not even snowing yet!" Wade just shrugged. She'd understand soon enough.
"You better get to that list. Ain't but a couple loaves of bread left." He leaned over and kissed her temple. "Good luck," he said before heading off in the same direction as Lavon.
"Good luck?" Zoe repeated. She looked at her list. Bread, milk, eggs, butter, cheese, peanut butter, cereal, Pop Tarts, beer. She shook her head, already mentally adding things like carrots and coffee. Men didn't know how to grocery shop. She went to get a cart, only to find them all gone. "Okay then," she said, looking around. She spied Addie heading towards the door with her bags. "Addie! Can I have your cart?" she asked. Addie pushed it towards her.
"It's a war zone," she told Zoe.
"What I don't understand is why," Zoe stated. "It's just a little snow!" She had a feeling that was going to be her mantra for the next day or two. She wasn't too surprised when Addie laughed at her.
"You just better hope the good folks of Bluebell take the weatherman's advice and stay in. Otherwise, you're going to be seeing what a 'little bit of snow' can do. Now I've got to get home and tend to my boys. Bill's going to be right busy in another 12 or so hours so I want to get a good, hot meal in him before it starts." Addie left Zoe with her car. Zoe turned and took in the chaos one more time, Lavon and Wade nowhere to be found.
"It's just snow," she said again to no one in particular. Spying that there really were only a few loaves of bread left, she decided to start there first. When Wade found her thirty minutes later, she had reached the end of her rope.
"You okay, Doc?" he asked, taking in her frazzled state.
"What is wrong with these people?" she asked him. "That loaf of bread? I had to literally pull it out of Margie Roper's wrinkled hands. And eggs? Forget about it. There were two women fighting over the last gallon of whole milk and it went flying into the eggs, broke all of them. I had to get skim milk so don't you or Lavon dare complain about it. And if Lavon wants peanut butter, he can get it himself. I forgot to grab some and I am not wading my way back across this place to get it." She noticed Wade was smirking at her. "What?" she demanded. "What's so funny?" He laughed and took over the shopping cart.
"Take a deep breath," he told her soothingly. "What else is on the list?"
"Nothing," Zoe answered. "Your timing sucks." Wade laughed again.
"Look, how about you go get in line and I'll go get Lavon's peanut butter? Then we can go home and watch a movie or somethin' and wait for the snow to start." Zoe agreed and sighed heavily as she went to stand in the longest line she'd ever seen in a grocery store.
Hours later, she was curled up on Lavon's couch, head resting on Wade's shoulder as they watched some sitcom Lavon had turned on before excusing himself to talk to Didi when she'd called a half hour earlier. Wade had an arm around her, his feet propped up on the coffee table.
"Are you okay?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence they'd fallen into since Lavon left the room. Zoe looked up at him, her brow furrowed.
"I'm fine," she said. "Why?"
"Well, it's just, you've been kind of quiet and I think maybe you've been avoidin' me. Have I already messed up?" Zoe was reminded again just how well Wade knew her. She thought she'd done a good job of hiding her worry over his father but apparently she hadn't. She moved so she could see him better.
"No," she assured him. "You haven't done anything, at all. I've just…" She searched for words that would be truthful without breaking confidentiality. "I've got a patient that I'm worried about," she told him. "I'm not sure I'll be able to help them." It was the truth and yet revealed nothing. Wade smoothed a hand over her hair.
"You're a great doctor," he told her. "You'll find a way if there's one to find." Zoe tried to give him a smile then settled back on his chest.
He had no idea she was talking about his father. As much as Wade complained about Earl, Zoe knew he cared about him, that he wouldn't want to see anything happen to him, especially since his mother was already gone. The saddest part to her was that Earl had largely done this to himself. His dependency on alcohol was going to ultimately cost him his life.
There were treatment options, of course. First and foremost, he'd have to quit drinking. He had looked at her as though she'd sprouted two heads when she'd suggested it earlier and then carried himself to the liquor store as soon as they were done so she was sure she had a snowball's chance in hell of actually getting him to lay down the bottle. He was an addict though and regardless of who the patient was and what they were addicted to, she'd still be facing an uphill battle. As his doctor, she had to face him head on, do what she could to convince him to get help.
She could give him an arsenal of medicines, but if he was as advanced as she thought he was, if her guess of a diagnosis just from what she could see on an ultrasound was right, he would need more than pills. He would need a miracle and at the very least, a liver transplant that he was likely not a candidate for in the first place.
Wade laughed at something on the TV and she faked a chuckle so he wouldn't question her mood any further. She didn't know how she was going to do this, toe the line between professional and girlfriend as long as Earl insisted on her being his doctor and on not telling his family. Lavon returned and an argument broke out between him and Wade when he hit the rewind button on the TV show he'd missed while on the phone. Neither of them noticed that Zoe's usual opinion was strangely missing as they bickered.
Outside, the first of the snow had started to fall.
Earl... He's interesting.
It snowed one day last week. This above scenario happened. And now we're having tornadoes. Go figure.
They just pointed out my road as in the path of the tornado, hitting in about 35 minutes. I'm going to go hide in my bathroom now.
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