Simple Gifts Read Free Page A

failure. I didn’t want to be weak or a failure in Vic’s eyes.
    I tried to focus. “My blood sugar’s been a little high lately, but I’m on medication—is it high now?” I’d barely eaten anything today—I’d think it would be dangerously low.
    â€œA little. Have you been taking care of yourself?”
    â€œOh? Well. On occasion.”
    Tell him the truth, Marlene. Tell him you “fainted” from embarrassment.
    Not in a million years. I brushed a languid hand across my forehead. Oscar-winning stuff. When, exactly, had lying come so easily? “So, what…what happened?”
    â€œNot sure, but you pulled into the station and hit a pop display. We were able to get the car stopped before you shot back onto the highway.”
    I kept silent. Cowards are like that.
    â€œHow are you feeling?”
    â€œLike a complete and utter fool, but health-wise, good.” I opened an eye and met his gaze. “How are you?”
    He grinned, a lopsided, cocky, totally Vic smile that never failed to send my heart into spasms.
    â€œGreat. It’s good to see you. You look wonderful.”
    Heat blanketed my cheeks. He was being kind, of course. I wasn’t the fresh-faced girl of my youth. I felt old and tired—-and who wouldn’t be, carrying a load of guilt as big as a Clydesdale? Here I was, occupying a clinic bed, taking up a doctor’s time, and lying—to my best friend. Because of one split moment’s insane decision.
    God, forgive me. When will I ever learn? How long are you willing to put up with me? “Do I need to stay overnight?”
    â€œDoc says you’re free to go, but he wants to see you in the morning. You need a good night’s sleep. Why don’t you come by the vet clinic tomorrow, and I’ll bring you back here so Doc can check your blood sugar and see if you’re following instructions. You can’t mess around with diabetes, Marlene.”
    â€œYou work on Saturdays?”
    â€œI work every day.”
    Well, I supposed a vet would be on call most of the time.
    The nurse unhooked me from the various paraphernalia and left the room, saying I could take my time about sitting up and putting on my shoes.
    Vic rose from the chair and pulled me into a sitting position. “Here. Let me help.”
    He slipped my shoes on, tying them one by one and then helped me stand. My jacket was still damp and wrinkled, but I didn’t protest when he pulled it around my shoulders. Maybe I didn’t mind because his hands were warm and comforting, or maybe just because it was Vic standing beside me.
    â€œWait a minute.” He left and then returned with a wheelchair.
    â€œI can walk.”
    â€œForget it. You go out in a wheelchair or you spend the night here. Take your choice.”
    I sighed and climbed on board, letting him push me out through the lobby to his truck.
    â€œWait! Don’t I have to sign insurance papers?”
    â€œWe’ll take care of that tomorrow.” He opened the passenger door, and warm air rushed over me. “Tonight you’re going home, soaking in a hot bath, and tomorrow morning you’re sleeping in.”
    â€œOkay, fine. You’re the doctor. I’m staying at Beth’s house.”
    He helped me inside, and I leaned back against the head-rest, closed my eyes, and prayed again for that hole to open up and swallow me. Granted, I loved seeing Vic, but not this way. When I thought about the things I hadn’t told him over the years, vital bits of my life I had deliberately left out…He knew all about me, yet he knew nothing. And part of what he thought he knew was wrong. The times we’d talked, I’d not been…forthcoming.
    He drove into Aunt Beth’s driveway and helped me up the porch steps and into the house. I waited in the doorway as he hit the switch, flooding the room with light.
    A chill raced through me. This house was my past whether