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“It was tacky and glowed. They would have been calling me to repaint the room within a week. This way I saved time and money by fixing their mistake now,” she said, glancing down at her watch with a scowl.

Where was that bastard?

“Yes, but-”

Sighing, she reached into her bag and pulled out the photo she’d printed out last night. “Give them this.”

He frowned down at the photo. “Is this the color they picked?”

“That would be the very one,” she said, grabbing her backpack and threw it over her shoulder as she headed for the front door.

“God, this is horrible,” Uncle Jared said, catching up with her.

“It’s an institutional color,” she pointed out, glancing around the large yard, looking for Darrin, but the bastard wasn’t there.

“Well, now you’re just exaggerating. This could be from-”

Too hungry and admittedly bitchy, she pointed at the caption at the bottom of the picture. “That’s from Riker’s Island.”

“Oh…”

“Just explain that this color will add more warmth and sophistication as well as complement their furniture and you should be all set,” she said, heading towards her truck, relieved when one of Uncle Jared’s employees managed to distract him so that she could make a clean break.

“Damn it,” she muttered pathetically a minute later when she turned on her car and saw the time flashing on the dashboard.

She was already ten minutes late for her appointment, starving, cranky, tired and sore from last night. All she wanted to do was go home, fill a bucket with ice and beer, pull out the kiddie pool she’d bought last summer for the kids, fill it to the brim with cold water and lounge in it for the rest of the night. But unfortunately for her that wasn’t an option. She couldn’t skip this appointment.

She also couldn’t put off lunch until after this appointment, because she was starting to feel lightheaded. Sighing heavily, she resigned herself to getting bitched out by Marge, the receptionist from hell, and headed towards Roy’s Roast Beef.

Thirty minutes later, she was juggling two large brown paper bags in her arms and trying to open the front door for Bradford Medical Associates. It took two minutes, some prodding and shoving before Marge finally walked over and opened the door for her.

“You’re forty-five minutes late,” Marge said with that same scowl that she’d been wearing since Marybeth was a kid.

“Traffic,” Marybeth said with a shrug, not bothering to apologize since she knew from experience that would only piss the receptionist off more.

Marge walked away with a long-suffering sigh. “You can wait in his office if you want.”

Leaning down just enough so that she could take a sip from the straw that was poking out from one of the bags, she looked around the small waiting room, noting that the only available chair was between a kid who seemed utterly fascinated with the content of his nose and a middle-aged man moaning miserably into a large bucket and decided to take Marge up on her offer to get rid of her. Still sipping her root beer, she walked towards the back hall. She paused at the first office door and tapped it with her foot.

Thirty seconds later the door opened and she was relieved of one of her bags. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Dr. Bradford, Darrin’s father, said with a warm smile as he closed the door behind him and returned to what sounded like a phone call with a surgeon.

Continuing to sip her soda, she walked down the hallway until she came to the door marked, “Dr. Aidan Bradford.” Hugging the remaining bag against her chest, she knocked on the door and waited. When there was no response, she opened the door and walked inside, making sure to close the door behind her.

She walked over to the leather couch by the large bay window, placed the bag overflowing with roast beef sandwiches and crinkly fries on the coffee table and pulled her drink out and sat down. Knowing that she didn’t have much time before Aidan caught the scent of roast beef and fries, she dug her sandwich and fries out of the bag and started eating.

Not even a minute later, Aidan walked into his office, sighing heavily as he tossed a folder on his desk. Without a word, he sat down next to her on the couch. He picked up her soda and took a sip as he reached into the bag and started pulling out the sandwiches that she’d ordered for him.

“You’re late,” he said, unwrapping a deluxe roast beef sandwich with the works and took a huge bite.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, taking the root beer from him and took a sip before she placed it back on the coffee table.

“You’re pale,” Aidan noted around a fry.

“I know,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Your blood results came in this morning,” he said, taking another sip of her soda.

Needing something to do, she picked up a ketchup packet and slowly opened it. “And?”

“And,” he said, shaking his head as put her soda back down, “it’s not good.”

She nodded slowly, hating herself for hoping for good news, something that would end this nightmare and give her the one thing in the world that she craved. “How bad?”

“We need to change your medicine for one thing,” he said, placing his half-eaten sandwich down on the coffee table and wiped his hands off on a napkin, letting her know just how bad this was.

“What else?” she asked, swallowing nervously as she stared down at the ketchup packet in her hands.

“You’ve developed pernicious anemia, Marybeth.”

“What else?” she asked, reaching up and quickly wiping away the useless tears that wouldn’t change anything.

“Your B-12 levels are too low. You’re going to have to switch to a daily injection. Your iron levels are dangerously low and so is your vitamin D and calcium levels, which would explain why you’re tired all the time,” he explained as he reached down and took her trembling hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“What else?” she asked, her voice breaking, because she knew without a doubt that there was more.

There was a slight pause before he said, “Your estrogen levels are up, which means that we need to schedule another ultrasound and see if the tissue has spread.”

She nodded numbly even as she said, “I thought that it wouldn’t be able to grow as long as I was on birth control.”

“The medicine slowed it down for a while, but now-”

“Now the medicine’s not working,” she finished for him as her world came crashing down around her.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Neighbor from Hell Young Adult