Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Mari’s request nearly rendered Nima speechless. After all these years—and after demanding a divorce—she wanted him in her hour of need? Yes, a hundred times, yes. He’d take and cherish every moment he could spend with Mari. He carefully climbed down from Tseten’s truck with her tucked in his arms.
“I’ll text you,” he said to Tseten. “My truck is stuck at the Blackwoods’ house.”
Tseten gave a nod. “We’ll get it back,” he promised as he gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “You’re in good hands.” Nima appreciated his friend’s vote of confidence and inwardly vowed to live up to it.
“Thanks, Tset,” she managed. “I appreciate the ride. You had perfect timing tonight.”
Margie led Nima toward a set of side doors. “You’re in luck. The emergency crew is out on a call, and the few others in the building are assisting a patient. The hallway will be empty.”
Nima waited until both doors opened completely before carrying Mari through. He wouldn’t risk bumping her injured leg.
As promised, the hallway was unoccupied .
. . but it was full of seasonal decorations.
A life-size blowup snow globe greeted them at the entry.
Someone had covered each door in the hall with a different colored and patterned wrapping paper.
Blinking icicle lights and glittery snowflakes hung from the ceiling.
The over-the-top decoration seemed to make Mari smile. Nima paused, turning so she could take it all in. “This looks like all the garish holiday items still left in the store the day after Christmas,” she said.
Margie pressed two fingers to the belly of a stuffed Santa affixed to the door to her right.
He let out a “ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas!” She waited until the plushy fell silent, then opened the door and ushered them into the room.
“We had a decorating competition,” she explained.
“And yeah, most of the tacky trimmings are castoffs or from last winter’s sales—meaning annoying things other people didn’t want.
” She swiped at Santa’s belly again as if to prove her point, then closed the door, muffling his final “ho.”
As Nima stepped into the center of the patient room with Mari in his arms, everything shook. The canisters on the table rattled together, and the overhead light swung. He clutched Mari closer, ready to cover her with his body if anything else fell tonight.
Mari placed a comforting palm against his chest. He wasn’t sure if her touch soothed as much as it pleasantly distracted him from the quake.
“We’ve had several aftershocks since the big one,” Margie informed them. She gestured to a padded platform. “Set Mari on the exam table, please, Nima.”
The protective paper on the bed crinkled as Nima carefully laid Mari down. Margie handed Mari water and what Nima assumed were pain pills, then rattled off a list of questions as she checked Mari’s pupils and other vitals. Nima relayed the event details again.
“Let’s get some X-rays,” Margie said, pulling a dressing gown from a drawer and placing it next to Mari. “Once you have this on, we’ll look at the areas that hurt.”
Mari might want Nima’s company tonight, but he doubted that included watching her undress. “I’ll wait outside while you change, Mari. Would you like me to call your parents?”
But Margie caught his wrist as he tried to retreat. “Can’t,” she said. “Not everyone here is yeti-friendly, and the others might be done with their patients by now. Stay here. I’ll pull the curtain around the bed.”
Before she did, Mari said, “Thanks for the offer, Nima. But my parents are in Hawaii. Please don’t call. I’ll catch them up later.”
“Your sister?” He asked.
“Also in Hawaii.”
Why wasn’t Mari drinking Mai Tais on a beach with her family? Probably because she’d closed on a new business today. “Is there anyone else I should call?” Like a boyfriend I don’t want to know about?
But Mari simply shook her head. Nima hadn’t been too worried about another guy, not after what they’d done in the closet, but he still secretly cheered at her answer.
Margie yanked the curtain around the bed, and Nima took a seat, trying not to overhear questions like, “Are you pregnant or do you think it’s possible you could be pregnant?
” He couldn’t make out Mari’s response, and Margie continued to the next question as fabric rustled and Mari let out more than one groan of pain that made Nima grimace. He disliked Mari being hurt.
When Margie drew the curtain back, Mari, now in a pink gown that hit past her knee, sat in a wheelchair, yellow hospital socks pulled partway up her bare calves.
“Your earrings should be okay, but please take off your necklace,” Margie requested. “Nima can hold it for you for safekeeping.”
“Of course,” Nima said, holding out his hand. It may have been his imagination, but Mari seemed to hesitate before she unhooked it.
Margie paused too and stepped toward Nima’s open palm. “Is that spruce sap?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“It is. The tree put up a fight.”
“But you won. Mari is no longer under it,” Margie said, handing him several packets. “It’ll come off with rubbing alcohol, but all those little cuts will sting like the dickens.”
Mari offered him a small, appreciative smile that made his heart sing. Then her cheeks stained a deep crimson as she placed her necklace in his palm and quickly glanced away.
Nima closed his fist around the jewelry, perplexed at her reaction. Had it been a gift from a past boyfriend?
Margie pushed the wheelchair out the door, depressing Santa’s belly once again. “Sit tight, Nima. We’ll be back after the X-rays.”
A moment later, he was alone in the room. Nima uncurled his fingers and peered down at an unremarkable silver chain holding two rings, one large enough for a yeti, and one small, as if sized for Mari.
Two silver rings.
A memory flashed. Nima had seen these rings before. Mari had purchased them from a silversmith in Nevada, but the ring she’d bought for Nima didn’t fit. His fingers had swelled in the desert heat.
Nima sat with a heavy thud. A cold sweat pricked his forehead as he put the pieces together. If Mari wore these around her neck, she considered them significant. Were these their . . . wedding rings?
Mari had worn her and Nima’s wedding rings on a long chain tucked below the neckline of her shirts for years.
At first, she’d been afraid someone would see the rings and ask about them.
But no one ever had. She wasn’t sure if that said something about her friends and family or the distance she’d kept from others.
In either case, her marriage to her yeti sweetheart had remained a secret.
If Nima somehow didn’t realize they were married, would he understand their significance? Mari put it out of her mind. Easy to do when her body ached.
The clinic hallway was cold but cheery. “Who won the decorating contest?” Mari asked as Margie wheeled her toward the X-ray lab.
Margie huffed out a laugh. “Billing. They recreated the Grinch stealing a Christmas tree by pulling it up through their ceiling tiles, which they decorated to look like chimney bricks. They deserved the grand prize—a dozen red and green glazed donuts.”
Mari couldn’t help but grin. “Nima and I used to watch the cartoon version of that movie every Christmas.” Not only had they dated for years, but their grandparents had been friends.
Her parents had pictures of her and Nima together as babies—they closely guarded those photos as yeti rarely allowed pictures.
Her and Nima’s shared youth had created a strong bond, but it hadn’t prevented a broken heart. Or made fixing one easier.
As they rounded a corner, Isaac, a former classmate of Mari’s sister, passed them in the hallway. He held up a bandaged hand while Mari tugged at her gown to cover more of her legs.
“Earthquake injury?” he asked.
Mari frowned. “I lost a battle with a spruce tree that snapped during the shaking. You?”
Isaac sucked air through his teeth. “Ouch. I bet that hurt. Well, I’m embarrassed to say I tripped in the dark when the lights went out and landed on broken glass. Needed ten stitches.”
Mari’s face pinched. That sucked for him. “I’m sorry. I hope it heals fast.”
Before they parted, he cautioned, “Watch where you’re stepping if your power is out when you return home.”
“Solid advice,” Mari agreed, thinking back to Tseten’s report of Pema and Jack’s damage.
Margie pivoted outside a double door, wheeling Mari through the backwards. “Have you seen many earthquake injuries tonight?” Mari asked.
As Margie parked the wheelchair next to the X-ray machine and locked the wheels, she said, “No, thankfully, only a handful and mostly minor. You might be the worst off.”
Of course she was. “Great.” Mari cut short her sarcasm, wincing as Margie helped her to her feet. “My left ankle,” Mari groaned, shifting her weight to her right foot and leaning on Margie. “That hurts.”
“Noted. Keep your weight on the other foot and hang on to me as you sit on the table.”
“Right,” Mari wheezed. “And all this movement hurts my chest.”
Margie pinched her lips. “Let’s hope these are only bruises and not broken bones.”
“Crossing sore fingers,” Mari joked as Margie helped her lay back on the X-ray table. She winced at the discomfort in her chest as she eased back. Once settled, she let out a sigh of relief. “For the record, though, my hands aren’t actually sore.”
Margie tied a lead apron around herself. “Thank goodness for that.” She continued both to make Mari comfortable and to prop her into the best position for X-rays with pillows and folded blankets as she took many images.
By the time Margie rolled Mari back to the exam room, she’d wrapped her ribs and her ankle in medical tape, and much of Mari’s pain had dulled to an annoying, but more tolerable, ache. “We’re back, Nima,” Margie announced with a knock on the door.
Nima abruptly stood and shoved his phone in his pocket. “How’d it go? Any issues?”