Gabe studied his mother’s sleeping figure. More strands of gray streaked her black hair than a year ago, and even with her face relaxed, the fine lines around her eyes were more prominent thanever. So were the shadows under her eyes. He noted the protrusion of her cheek bones.
Has she lost weight?
"Do you think there’s something wrong with her?"
He startled at Grace’s quiet question. “I don’t know. She certainly hasn’t been herself lately. How’s her appetite been?”
Grace shrugged one shoulder. "It's dropped a little, I guess."
“Her exhaustion could be any number of things from stress at work to hormone changes."
"Yeah, maybe." Grace didn't sound convinced.
He wasn't either. He couldn’t help remembering that difficult time when his mother battled breast cancer. He hated to think she might have to face something like that again.
He and Grace tried to be quiet as they fixed dinner together an hour later, but their noise must have woken Mom, because she joined them in the kitchen. However, instead of helping chop vegetables and sauté chicken, she sat on a bar stool and watched them work.
Gabe waited until they were seated around the dinner table, before bringing up her health. "Grace said you've been tired a lot lately."
Her head popped up. She shot Grace a surprised look, and his sister in turn scowled at him.
Mom waved a hand, dismissing his concern. "We all get run down sometimes. You know how it is."
"Yes, we do, but I haven't seen you nap since…" Gabe stopped, not wanting to bring up that dark time in their lives.
"Since I went through chemo, I know." Mom patted his arm. "I'm fine, don't you two worry about me." She picked up her fork again and continued to push the food around her plate.
"I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. When was your last physical?"
"I saw Dr. Marcum earlier this week."
"Good. What did he say about your exhaustion."
"Nothing."
"What do you mean nothing?" Frustration built in Gabe’s chest.
"They drew blood. He's running some tests." She gave him thesame look she often gave him as a child; a mixture of scolding and forced patience. "These things take time. You're a doctor, you know that."
Gabe wanted to remind her he wasn't that kind of doctor, but she was right. A good doctor didn't give a diagnosis without running tests first, and it took time to get results back from labs.
"What other symptoms have you had besides exhaus?—"
"Basta!” She held up a hand. "That's enough. I'll let you know what Dr. Marcum says when the lab results come back. Until then, there's no point worrying about it." She pointed her fork at him. "Now tell me, Mijo, when are you going to start dating again?"
All signs of exhaustion disappeared from Mom's face, and her pointed stare looked exactly like the woman who never let him get away with anything as a child.
Gabe nearly choked on the bite of fajita he'd just taken. Grace snickered across the table, and it was his turn to scowl at her. "What do you mean? I date."
"Oh, you do?" Disbelief filled Mom's face. "When was the last time you went on a date?"
Gabe froze like a deer in headlights as he racked his brain trying to remember the last time he took a woman out. He couldn’t even remember the last time he met someone he was interested in dating.
That’s not true.
He met someone this week who interested him a great deal, but Paige Young was a client and off limits. So he shouldn’t be flirting with her and complimenting her on her striking blue eyes.
That's not me. I don't flirt with patients.
