Love’s Game

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"Andrea, these peonies are drooping. Is the humidity in here killing them, or is it just my mood?"

I laughed, snipping a stem with a sharp click.

"They aren't drooping, Chloe. They're 'artistically inclined.' Stop stressing the flowers."

Paige leaned in, her voice a soft whisper.

"I think they look lovely. Like a watercolor painting."

"Paige, honey, your optimism is a liability in New York City. We need edge. We need drama. This shop needs a neon sign that says 'Flowers for the Heartbroken' or something equally moody."

"It’s a boutique, Chloe, not a noir film."

"Exactly! That's why it needs the mood."

The telephone on the counter shrieked, cutting through Chloe's theatrical gesturing. I wiped my hands on my apron and picked up the receiver.

"Parker’s Petals, this is Andrea."

"Is this Andrea Parker? This is the emergency department at New York General Hospital."

The air left my lungs. The room tilted.

"What? Why? Is something wrong?"

"Your grandmother, Mia Parker, was brought in by paramedics. She suffered a cardiac event. You need to come in immediately."

I dropped the phone. It clattered against the hardwood, the voice on the other end still tinny and distant.

"Andrea? What is it? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Grandma... the hospital. Now."

Chloe jumped up, her dramatic persona vanishing in a heartbeat.

"Get your coat. Paige, grab her bag. I’m driving."

"Is she going to be okay?" Paige asked, her voice trembling.

"We have to go. Now!"

***

Richard leaned back in the leather chair, boots resting on the edge of the mahogany desk.

"Look at this office, Ray. It’s so clean it’s depressing. Do you actually work, or do you just spend ten hours a day staring at the grain of the wood?"

Ray didn't look up from his tablet.

"I work. Which is why you're currently interrupting."

"You're always interrupting something. That's the tragedy of your life. You're a slave to the Smith Enterprise legacy."

Ray finally glanced up, his expression a mask of cool indifference.

"Some of us prefer success over social calendars, Richard."

"Which is exactly why you need me. The ‘ Imperial Blue ’opens tonight. My name is on the wall, the champagne is vintage, and the guest list is a war zone. But you? You're at the top."

"I don't do clubs."

"You do when the drinks are free and the women are... well, you know the type you like. High heels, low inhibitions, and a desperate need for a man with a trust fund."

Ray sighed, tapping the screen of his tablet.

"I have a merger meeting tomorrow morning at six."

"The merger can wait; the champagne can't. One night, Ray. Be a human being for four hours. If you don't show up, I'll tell your mother you've started collecting porcelain dolls in secret."

Ray paused, a small, arrogant smirk playing on his lips.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. Eight o'clock. Don't wear the boring suit; wear the one that makes you look like you own the city, because we both know you think you do."

"Fine. I'll be there. Now get out of my office before I have Jane escort you to the curb."

***

I pushed through the sliding glass doors of the hospital, the scent of bleach and industrial cleaner stinging my nostrils. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, a sterile, buzzing sound that makes one’s skin crawl. I feel Chloe’s grip on my arm, tight and grounding, while Paige follows close behind, clutching her purse to her chest.

"Miss Parker?"

A man in a white coat stands by the triage desk, a clipboard held against his chest. He looks tired.

"I'm Andrea. Where is she? Where's my grandmother?"

"I'm Dr. Aris. Please, come with me to the consultation room."

I follow him, our footsteps echoing on the linoleum. The room is small, containing only two plastic chairs and a table littered with medical charts.

"What happened? She was fine this morning. She called me to tell me about the birds in her garden."

"Your grandmother suffered a myocardial infarction. A massive heart attack. She's stable for the moment, but the damage to the left ventricle is significant."

"Stable? Then she's okay, right?"

"Not exactly. She requires an immediate coronary artery bypass graft. Without the surgery, the risk of another event—one that would be fatal—is nearly a hundred percent."

"Then do it. Perform the surgery. Right now."

Dr. Aris looks down at the chart, then back at you.

"We want to. But we need to discuss the logistics. Because of her lack of comprehensive coverage for this specific procedure, the hospital requires a significant upfront deposit before we can move her into the OR."

"What does 'significant' mean?"

"For the surgery, the anesthesia, and the ICU recovery, we're looking at eighty thousand dollars for the initial phase."

The number hits you like a physical blow. You stumble back, hitting the plastic chair.

"Eighty thousand? I... I have a business. I have savings, but not that much. I can't possibly—"

"Andrea, look at me."

Chloe steps forward, her voice fierce.

"We'll figure it out. We will."

"How?" you whisper. "I don't have eighty thousand dollars in a drawer somewhere."

"We have time to think, but the doctor said she's stable for now, right?"

"Only for a short window, Miss Parker. Every hour we wait increases the risk of heart failure."

"We'll find the money," Paige says, her voice small but determined. "We can sell things. We can take out loans."

"We can put my shop up as collateral”

"We're talking about your grandmother. We're going to leave right now and call everyone we know. We'll scour every lead. We'll find a way to scrape this together."

"You guys would do that?"

"Stop being dramatic and start being hopeful," Chloe says, pulling me into a tight hug. "We're your best friends. We don't let family die because of a price tag."

"Go," you tell them, your voice cracking. "Go find out who can help. I'll stay here with her."

"We'll be back in a few hours," Paige promises, kissing my cheek. "Stay strong, Andrea."

I watch them hurry out of the room, their footsteps fading into the hum of the hospital. I turn back to the doctor, my heart hammering against your ribs.

"How long do I have?"

"Twelve hours. Maybe twenty if she stays stable."

"I'll get the money."

"I hope so, Miss Parker. For her sake."