Zuri Day - Platinum Promises

“The doctor’s right,” Dexter added. He placed a hand on Faye’s shoulder. Only now did she realize he’d been standing just behind her; only now was she aware of the source of the woodsy scent that had tickled her nostrils. “Y’all know how Papa is. He wouldn’t want us out here crying and carrying on.” Dexter said the words in the raspy voice of his great-grandfather. “Or getting our faces twisted up.” Another Papa Deeism.

A kind-looking older woman approached Faye. “Hello, I’m Mary Drake, David Jr.’s wife. We’re so thankful that you were there today. Are you a resident of Temecula?”

“No, ma’am. I’m a guest at the hotel.”

This news elicited a variety of facial expressions: surprise, delight, curiosity.

“Donald Drake here,” a tall, imposing man announced, coming forward with hand outstretched. “I’m David Sr.’s grandson and the president of the hotel. What is your name, Doctor?”

“Faye Buckner.”

“How long have you been at our establishment?”

“Just arrived yesterday. I’ll be staying for a week.”

“Well, on behalf of myself, my wife—” he gestured toward an attractive, slim woman whose expression suggested that her thoughts were in overdrive “—and the entire Drake family, let us thank you for stepping in today and helping our patriarch by considering you our guest during your stay.”

Faye’s brow furrowed. She was already a guest at the hotel. How else would she consider herself? “Thank you,” she said, hoping it was an appropriate response to what she thought an obvious statement.

The woman who’d been introduced as Donald’s wife stepped forward. “Dear, would you like to sit down? It may be a while before the doctor comes out.”

Faye nodded and followed the elegance-oozing woman to a row of chairs. On the way, she caught a look pass between Dexter and his sister, and saw a wisp of a smile cut through the worry lines.

“I’m Genevieve Drake,” the woman said as soon as they were seated. “David Jr. and Mary are my husband’s parents—my in-laws.” She nodded toward the three people still standing. “Those are our children. Donovan, he’s the oldest. Diamond is my only daughter and Dexter our youngest son.”

“You have a beautiful family,” Faye said sincerely.

“Thank you. We’re very blessed.”

“Yes. You are.”

“What about you? Are you here visiting with your husband?”

“No, Mrs. Drake. I’m not married.”

A perfectly arched brow rose ever so slightly. “Oh?”

“No, ma’am, I’m single.”

“Single as in never married?”

“Correct.”

“Do you have children? I don’t mean to pry, but you’re smart, attractive...I’m curious.”

Faye chased away the discomfort that usually came with this topic of conversation. At thirty-two years old, it was one she’d had often. “I understand. No, I don’t have any—”

“Excuse me, ladies,” Dexter interrupted. “Faye, you have the distinct look of one being interrogated. Is my mother asking for your date of birth and Social Security number?”

“We’re just talking,” Faye said with a smile, hiding the sigh of relief that she’d been rescued.

“Yes, I’m very familiar with how my mother loves to talk,” he said with a smirk. “All of that listening has probably made you thirsty. Would you like to join me in a hunt for the cafeteria or somewhere to get bottled water?”

Faye stood. “Sure.”

They turned to leave, just in time to see the doctor entering the waiting room and walking toward them. The men were on their feet in an instant.

“How is he, Doc?” Donald asked.

The others gathered around the doctor. “He’s weak, but he’s going to be okay.” The expression on the Drakes’ faces was a collective one of relief. Faye could have sworn that a little more air seeped into the room. “Where is Dr. Buckner?” The doctor looked around the group.

Faye stepped forward. “Right here,” she said, hand outstretched. “You must be Dr. Saunders.”

“Yes. I understand that you attended the patient until paramedics arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Good work. Thanks to your quick actions, there appears to be no permanent damage to any major organs, including the heart.”

David Jr., who was just an inch shorter than his six-foot son, Donald, came to stand beside him. “What happened, Doctor?”

“And you are?”

“I’m the patient’s son.”

The doctor nodded and shook the outstretched hand. “Mr. Drake suffered what’s known as a coronary artery spasm—in layman’s terms, a very mild heart attack.”

“Oh, goodness!” Mary cried, voicing what some of the others had felt. Her own father had died when she was thirty, just ten years after she and David Jr. had married. Now, at seventy-eight, she’d known Papa Dee longer than she’d known her own flesh and blood, and loved him not one bit less. “A heart attack is serious. What are you going to do? A bypass? How can you say that he’ll be fine?”

“Your concern is understandable,” Dr. Saunders replied, his voice firm and matter-of-fact. “Heart attacks can be very serious, and very damaging. Fortunately, what Mr. Drake experienced is the very least of what can happen when the artery wall tightens and blood flow through that artery is restricted.”

“What is the treatment?” Dexter appeared calmer than he’d looked since Papa Dee dropped to the ground.

“We’re still performing tests to determine plaque buildup and other potential causes for the blockage, but in most cases the problems can be solved with medication.”

“Can we see him?”

“He’s still in ICU, but we’ll have him in a private room shortly. The nurse will let you know when he’s been moved.”

The family asked a few more questions, received the doctor’s reassurances and then sat down to wait. Only after looking around the room and then the hallways did Dexter realize that sometime during Dr. Saunders’ explanation, the angel who’d likely saved his great-grandfather’s life had left Loma Linda.

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