Page 66 of Truly, Madly Viking

She left and came back with a thermometer. "Lift your tongue and let this rest in your mouth for a minute or so. I need to check your temperature."

"Temperature?"

"Body heat."

"Oh, I can assure you that I am hot. For you."

He waggled his eyebrows at her with a halfhearted attempt at humor.

"Not that kind of heat. Open your mouth."

"No."

"If you don't want to do it that way, I'll take you to a hospital, where they can take your temperature in another orifice. It's what they do with babies—and stubborn adults."

"You would not dare."

"Try me."

Reluctantly he opened his mouth for the thermometer, but the whole time he held it under his tongue, he glowered at her.

She soon discovered that he had a fever—one hundred and four. Forcing him to take two Tylenol, she helped him into the sofa bed and declined his request that she join him. The silly man wouldn't have been able to do anything in his condition anyway. Well, maybe he would, but she doubted he'd be up to his par.

Ridiculous thoughts.

She slept restlessly that night. When she awakened the next morning, she realized that she had reason for concern. Joe was almost delirious with a raging fever... now a whopping one hundred and five. She rushed him to the emergency clinic at a nearby medical center.

And there she discovered something even more alarming about Joe... something that would change her world forever.

The Bayside Medical Center released Joe the same day with a stash of antibiotics and extra strength painkillers.

Maggie suspected that the only thing keeping them from admitting him to the hospital was his lack of medical insurance. Despite her being part of the medical establishment, she had to agree with the majority of people in this country: the health-care industry and its concern with the bottom line was deplorable.

She had a hard time keeping the girls away from him in the den, which had been transformed into a sickroom. Finally Maggie sent them to a Saturday movie matinee with a girlfriend and her mother. By the time they returned at dinnertime and went upstairs to listen to tapes, Joe was sleeping restlessly. He was still extremely sick, though his temperature had gone down.

Then the telephone rang. "Joe Rand, please," a male voice on the other end of the line said.

"He's not available right now. Who's calling?"

"This is Dr. Zalvanchic from Bayside Medical Center."

"Joe is asleep right now. In fact, he's been sleeping since we left your office this morning. Is that OK? I mean, I assumed that sleep was the best thing for him. He still seems to have a fever, but his temperature has gone down a bit."

She had stopped at a pharmacy that morning and bought one of those highpriced thermometers that were placed in the ear, thus allowing her to check his temperature even while he slept.

"That's good. That's good. It means the antibiotic is working," the doctor said, but there was a note of worry in his voice.

"What are you keeping from me?" she demanded.

"Ms. McBride, what's your relationship to this man?"

She bristled. "Friend."

"Does he have any family nearby? Wife? Parents? Siblings?"

"No," she answered hesitantly. Why would he ask such questions? Was it a privacy issue? Or something more?

"Where's he from?"