Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wednesday afternoon finally arrived after two long days at the café, and Sonja knew she’d driven everyone but Suzie crazy. Normally, as long as people did their jobs, she kept a laid-back approach to managing. This week was different.
Tuesday, she’d hovered in the kitchen so much the chef had finally threatened to quit if she didn’t stop meddling. Wednesday, she couldn’t stop moving—checking tables for cleanliness, shadowing the servers, rushing the busboys, nitpicking every little thing. The need to stay busy, to keep her hands occupied, had become unbearable.
She told herself she was just making sure everything ran smoothly. She wasn’t fooling anyone.
By the time the last customer walked out, a noticeable tension lifted in the air. Employees packed up in record time, throwing her wary glances as they left. She could feel their relief, even if no one said it outright.
Once the door shut behind the last one, Suzie turned to her, arms crossed. “Would you care to explain your behavior over the last two days?”
Sonja sighed, running a hand down her face. The exhaustion that had been masked by constant motion settled into her bones. “I’m sorry, Suzie. I’m stressed, and I’m taking it out on everyone else. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“It’s not something with you and Derek, is it? You guys seemed great together at the club.”
“No, it’s not Derek. Things with him are great. He told me he loved me Friday night.” Warmth spread through her, filling every inch of her body like sunlight breaking through clouds. Her heart kicked up a beat, and the memory replayed in her mind, just as vivid as when it happened.
“That’s fantastic!” Suzie hugged her. “So, what’s going on? This is not ‘he told me he loves me’ behavior.”
“It’s probably nothing. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment later to go over some test results. I’m just edgy. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, but you’d tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would,” Sonja said as she mentally crossed her fingers for stretching the truth. “I’m just worried over nothing. Now, don’t you have to go watch Tim or Abby do something spectacular in soccer?”
“Damn, you’re right, and if I don’t leave right now, I’ll be late. I expect a full report tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am. Go!” She shooed a distracted Suzie from the office.
An hour and a half later, she was sitting in the waiting area at Dr. Davidson’s office. She checked her watch. The appointment had been for 4:30 pm, and it was almost five. The waiting room was practically empty when a woman appeared at the door. “Sonja Madden?” she asked.
Sonja got up immediately. “That’s me.”
“Hi, I’m Erin Carlier. I’m a nurse practitioner,” she said as she led Sonja to an exam room. “Do you prefer Ms. Madden or Sonja?”
“Sonja, please.” They came to an empty room and went in. Sonja sat in the patient’s chair while Erin took the ubiquitous rolling chair that all doctors’ offices seemed to have.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. It’s been a zoo this afternoon. One of the doctors called in sick this morning, and Dr. Davidson had to leave at lunchtime for a personal emergency. We rescheduled most of their patients, but we’ve still had more to cope with than usual. She asked me specifically not to put you off, given why you’re here.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious. Dr. Davidson’s emergency, I mean.”
Yeah, yeah, she knew she had bigger things to worry about, but fussing over everyone else was easier than sitting with her own fears.
“I don’t know any details. Sorry,” Erin said. “For you, though, it’s good news. The biopsy results are negative. No sign of malignancy.”
“Oh, my God. That’s wonderful! So, what was it?”
“The pathologist said, and I quote, ‘No signs of ductal or lobular carcinoma. Possible beginnings of fibrocystic formation.’”
“What does that mean? Fibrocystic formation.” Sonja wanted to be sure she understood everything. “My mother died from lobular carcinoma, and my grandmother from ductal, but I’ve never heard of fibrocystic.”
“Basically, fibrocystic breast disease means a tendency to develop fibroid cysts in your breast tissue. The only trouble they cause for most women is mild discomfort, lumpy breasts, and false positives on mammograms.” Erin chuckled a little. “I know it’s not funny, but those are the only problems I’ve ever heard of with cysts in the breast.”
Sonja laughed in relief.
“I’ll give you a copy of the pathology report for your records, and I took the liberty of printing out this article on fibrocystic breasts from the Mayo Clinic’s website.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Sonja said. Now that she knew she didn’t have cancer, she took a moment to really look at the other woman—a statuesque brunette, with curly, shoulder-length hair. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
“I don’t think so, but anything’s possible.”
“Have you ever been to The Sweet and Savory Table? It’s a little café downtown. I’m co-owner, and I try to get to know my customers.”
“Once or twice, I think. Your bakery is excellent. I had a dark chocolate raspberry torte that was out of this world. That must be where you saw me.” Erin seemed oddly edgy over the question, but Sonja put it out of her mind. She was so full of relief it was hard to concentrate on anything else.
“Come back any time and be sure to say hello.” Sonja started to get up.
“One more thing. Dr. Davidson left a note in your file. Have you considered genetic testing, given your family history?”
“Dr. Jacobs mentioned it back when the testing first became available, but the cost was a problem then. I take it Dr. Davidson wants me to consider it again?”
“Yes. Costs have come down, and it could help you get a better handle on your level of risk.”
“Where would I have to go for it?”
“Nowhere. We could do a swab here today. For the results, you’d meet with a genetic counselor at Truman.”
“I’ll think about it. I need to check into the costs and insurance coverage.”
“I’m sure Dr. Davidson would be happy to talk to you about it any time.”
“Sure. Is that all? I’d like to go celebrate my news.”
“That’s all. Congratulations. I hope to see you again under more pleasant circumstances.”
“That would be great. Thanks for not putting me off, Erin.”
They shook hands at the door. “Enjoy your evening, Sonja.”
Trying to work while he waited had been a terrible idea. Derek stared at his computer screen, more of the letters flickering into gibberish with each passing moment. He glanced at the corner of the screen for the time. 5:05 pm. Sonja’s appointment had been at 4:30 pm. What was taking so long? She had promised to call as soon as she left the doctor’s office.
He tried to focus on the case file on his screen again and got through two paragraphs of notes before he lost concentration again. He was accomplishing nothing, but he couldn’t take off because that would guarantee she’d call while he was driving. He needed to give her his undivided attention. Too bad the days of paper records were over. He could have used the time to catch up with his filing, but his office had converted everything to electronic records the year before. He kept expecting data breeches and system crashes, but so far, the transition had been remarkably smooth.
What could he do while he waited? If the news was bad, Sonja would need comforting. He could do that. On the other hand, Derek could also do a celebration. Could he prep for both possibilities? For Sonja, comfort would certainly mean food, but what sort? She hadn’t told him much about her past, so he had no idea what her favorite foods were. Maybe her partner did? He didn’t know Suzie Carmichael well but thought she’d help.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a phone number for her or her husband, Connor. Strike that idea. He’d come back to comfort. What about celebrating? That was easy, but where should they go? Maybe takeout would be better? Then he could feed her in bed. That worked, regardless of the occasion. The only difference was what came after.
He was still running through options, lost in thoughts of how to make the night special, when his phone rang.
“Kiriakis.”
“No cancer.”
For a second, his brain stalled, like he hadn’t heard right. Then the words crashed into him, a rush of pure relief so intense it nearly knocked the breath out of him.
“Babygirl, that’s fantastic!” His voice came out rougher, louder than he intended, but he didn’t care. His heart pounded, his entire body buzzing with energy. He clenched his free hand into a fist, his muscles coiled like he needed to move—do something, shout, grab her, hold her. A grin stretched across his face, wide and unrestrained. “What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“I was hoping we could stay in tonight, Daddy.”
That was something new. Maybe the stress of Sonja’s health scare had helped her break through to her Little side?
“I wasn’t planning on eating there, but I would like to know where to go for the food. And what you’d like to eat, of course.”
“My absolute favorite is Peach Tree Café—it’s a Kansas City institution. I’m not sure it’s a good area for you to be going into alone at night. Let me pick up the food and meet you.”
“No way, babygirl. I’ve been in every neighborhood in this city. I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s much closer to me than it is to you. Since when do babygirls need to protect their Daddies, anyway? What would you like?”
Sonja’s voice dropped a little. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’d like their fried chicken dinner, with green beans, fried okra, mashed potatoes and gravy, and peach cobbler for dessert, please.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll call it in and meet you at your place in about an hour?”
“That would be wonderful. It’ll give me a chance to get a shower.”