Arranging Love by Nina Pierce Page B

a father, and fix him. John had a lot of people depending on him.
    “Good morning.” Peter slipped into the room and kissed Julie’s cheek. This was the fourth day in a row they’d played out this familiar routine.
    She opened her eyes, yawned, and stretched muscles cramped from the hospital recliner. “What time is it?”
    “Right around eight.” He pointed to John’s still form, tubes and wires snaking around the now frail body. The familiar beep of machines echoed off the walls. “How’s he doing?”
    “Good. Not much change.” Tears welled in her eyes.
    Peter laid a hand on her shoulder. “Jules, he’ll pull through this. He always has.”
    She stood and stared down at her father. “He’s a fighter, but how much longer can he fight, Peter?” Julie turned and stared at him. “I want to believe…” Julie let the last word hang between them. Everyone understood that each heart attack brought John closer to the edge, but without the definitive diagnosis of a blocked artery or muscle failure, there was simply nothing to fix. Perhaps tests this time would finally find the problem.
    Peter cleared the emotion clogging his throat. “Damon around?”
    “He took a cab back to the apartment. I’m going home, showering, then heading over to Mum’s and bringing her back here.” Julie stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “That’s the plan, anyway.”
    “Jules, you’re beat, why don’t you call Meghan and have her bring your mom in this morning?”
    “Already tried. She’s not answering her cell, house or shop phones.”
    “It’s not like her to be out of touch, especially now.” After last Friday’s fiasco with the cooler, Peter wondered if it had happened again. He was sick thinking of her nearly freezing to death while he’d been ogling Crystal.
    Julie squeezed his shoulder. Obviously, his concern was visible. “Peter, she’s fine. Probably just in the shower.” Bending, she retrieved her purse and coat. “Either way, if I don’t reach her, I’ll stop by your house before I pick up Mum. If she’s not there, I’ll head over to the shop. I’ll be sure to have her call you as soon as I talk to her.” She tipped up and kissed his cheek. “Tag, you’re it.”
    * * * *
    Meghan yanked up on the handle of the garage door, but of course, it didn’t budge. It was locked in place by the broken electrical mechanism. Sighing, she roamed around the car, checking the doors one more time. How could she be trapped in a confined space—again? At least it was light, and she was dressed for the elements. Two pluses. Rubbing her fingers in circles at her temples, she forced herself to think through the pain throbbing in her head. She had no idea if it was the fumes or stress causing her headache. Either way, it hurt.
    Think.
    There was nothing to break through the kitchen or garage doors. No sharp tool to break the window and shut off the Volvo. She liked a clutter-free garage, so all hatchets, axes, and other small tools were stored in the shed out back. Besides the insurance claim would be hell if she did any of that.
    The car’s motor purred gently, poisoning her air. Her lungs spasmed, and she coughed again. She needed to get out, and soon.
    She thumped the heel of her palm to her forehead. “You are so stupid, Meghan.” The sound of her voice helped slow her pounding heart. All automatic garage door openers had the override lever. All she needed to do was pull the cord and disengage the electrical system, allowing her to open the door manually. But when she looked up, her stomach lurched.
    The cord wasn’t there.
    * * * *
    Crystal roamed the corridors of the Bangor Hospital in the white lab coat of a doctor. The morning was progressing just as she hoped, and soon everything would be set, and she would be a permanent part of Peter’s life. Things couldn’t be working out any better.
    She stepped into the ACU, knowing her confident walk and authoritative air would satisfy the staff. The