Dar exhaled and reached up to rub the back of her neck. “The Asia office might call. I’ve been arguing with them all week about getting new mainframes in there. See if you can reason with them.”
She looks tired, Kerry realized. “Okay. Oh, listen…um, who can I talk to here about a bank transfer problem?” she asked. “It’s mine. I mean, I think my EFT got messed up.”
Dar stood up. “Why? Didn’t it show up?” Her brow creased in concern as she regarded Kerry. “That’s not very damn funny if it’s true.”
“N-no. It did, last night, but it was…I think maybe because I transitioned, it got sent twice. Is that possible?”
Dar’s expression turned impish, just for an instant. “It’s possible,” she agreed. “But it’s far more likely you actually got paid what you were worth this time.” She headed for the door, pausing as she opened it and turned. “The position,” she indicated Kerry’s office, “came with a raise. Sorry I forgot to mention it.”
Kerry stared at the door until it closed. “Son of a gun!” she finally sputtered after a moment’s silence. “Dar, you…” She exhaled, feeling a surge of relief and surprise and something she wasn’t quite sure she could identify flood through her. “You’re something else.” Something else.
She clicked on her menu and went into the personnel program, typing in her codes and bringing up her own records. She propped her chin on her fist as she looked at the screen, not quite knowing whether to be proud or apprehensive at the amount showing.
Am I worth it? “Dar seems to think so.” She closed the program and leaned back. “I think I’m going nerd-shopping tonight. I’m tired of that old desktop.” With a slight laugh that lengthened into a more joyous one, she turned back to her project list and called up the next one, smiling all the while.
DAR HAD LONG ago decided that everyone just naturally hated going to the doctor’s office. She knew she wasn’t alone in that, and she suspected it had more to do with the loss of personal dignity than anything else. She closed her eyes and tried to call up some patience, while she sat in the examining room in a gown half the size of a cocktail napkin.
The door pushed open and Dr. Steve came in. He was an older man in his sixties, with a kindly, sweet face. “Well, well. Look who we have here.”
Dar sighed. “Hi, Dr. Steve.” She managed to keep a wry grin off her face.
The older man had been her family doctor for years and still treated her as though she were a gawky adolescent.
He assumed his stethoscope and laid it on her back, then moved around to her chest, listening with that annoyingly omniscient manner developed by Tropical Storm 103
most doctors. “Breathe.”
She obediently did so, flexing her arm a little against the pain from three bouts of blood-drawing.
“Okay, lie down.” Dr. Steve proceeded to gently examine her, his fingers steady and professional as they poked and prodded. “You’ve got a bruise here.”
“Just from the gym,” Dar said, untruthfully.
“This too?” He picked up her right hand and examined the faded bruises along the knuckles. “You’re not going back to your scary younger days are you, chipmunk?”
Dar chuckled wryly. “I’m long past that, and you know it.”
“Mmm.” The older man felt up along her neck carefully, rolling her head to one side and then to the other. “Pretty stiff.”
“Part of the problem, I think,” Dar acknowledged ruefully. “That’s where the pain usually starts.”
“Uh huh. How’ve you been sleeping?”
A shrug. “All right. About the same as always.”
“So still doing the four or five a night, huh?” Dr. Steve remarked dryly.
“You’d do yourself a favor if you’d sneak in an extra hour or two.”
Dar exhaled. “I tried. I just can’t fall asleep. And if I do, I wake up early.”
The older man leaned on his hands and studied her. “No, you never could. Your daddy was the same way.” He sighed. “How are you feeling otherwise?” He put his stethoscope against her chest and listened. “Any flutters? You feeling out of breath anytime?”
Dar thought about that. “Not that I noticed,” she replied slowly. “When the pain’s really bad, I’m more conscious of my heartbeat, feels like it’s causing the throbbing.”
“That’s natural,” Dr. Steve told her. “Sit up.”
She did so, reaching up and running a hand through her hair. “So, what’s the story? Am I dying?” The comment about her heart made her a touch nervous, and it showed. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed uncomfortably as she waited for him to answer.
The doctor rolled his eyes. “If you are, you’re the healthiest dying person I’ve ever examined.” He leaned back against the wall in the small room. “Your blood work’s a mess, Dar. Your white cell count is down, every stress indicator we know of is up, and I’m a little worried about some of the things I see with your pressure. I scheduled you over to Miami Heart for a stress test.
No, don’t argue with me, all right? Humor me, I’m an old man, Dar. I really think you need it.”
Dar let her head drop and exhaled. “I don’t have time for that.”
He gently reached over and tipped her chin up to face him. “You don’t have time not to do it, sweetheart. Come on, they’re not busy today. It’ll take an hour, and then you can tell me you told me so, okay?”
“An hour, huh?” She hesitated, then surrendered. “All right, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Uh huh, and you got your medical degree where?” the older man inquired pointedly. “Of course, we could dispense with all this if you’d just take my advice and take a week off, go bum around in the Keys or out on the 104 Melissa Good boat somewhere.”
A crafty look entered the pale blue eyes. “Oh, so all I have to do is agree to go on vacation, and I don’t have to go over to the Institute?”
Dr. Steve wagged a finger at her. “Oh no, you tricky little girl you. I know you, you’ll agree, then you won’t go for two years.” His voice gentled. “Dar, please. I hate to see you doing this to yourself.” He cocked his head. “It’s not going to get better, honey. It’s just going to get worse, unless you start taking it easier.”
Dar was silent for a bit, then she finally nodded. “All right, I get the message. I’ll arrange, somehow, to take a few days off.” She paused.
“Meantime, can you give me something for the damn headaches? I’ve been taking over the counter, but…”
The older man nodded. “You go to the Institute, I’ll give you a scrip for a combination painkiller and muscle relaxant. That should help. Deal?”
Dar hesitated, then capitulated. “Deal. Look, I know I feel lousy. Hey, I even got myself an assistant. How do you like that?”
“Did you?” Dr. Steve glanced up with a surprised smile. “You found someone who could put up with you? Virgin Mary, it’s a miracle.” He laughed at the look on her face. “He must be a saint.”
A dark brow lifted. “She.” Dar felt her face creasing into an unexpected smile.
His own grizzled eyebrow edged up. “Ah. I see.” He patted her knee gently. “You’ll have to introduce me to this modern day Job-ette sometime.”
Dar snorted. “C’mon, I’m not that bad. Kerry deals with me just fine.
She’s a nice kid.” Another smile.
Dr. Steve leaned back and regarded her wisely. “If she makes you smile like that, she must be nice,” he teased, watching a faint blush color her skin.
“Now I really want to meet her.”
“I’d better get dressed and get outta here if I have to go across town. “
Dar ignored the prodding. “I’ve still got stuff to do back at the office.” She hopped off the table, grabbed her clothes and the prescription the doctor held out. “Thanks, Dr. Steve.”