The Day's That Followed

There were many places where no one wanted to spend a perfectly good Thursday afternoon, like a doctor’s office. The only place Frank thought was worse was the DMV: taking a number, sitting for what felt like hours, only to be slapped in the face by a lack of mail proving your address and a pile of unexpected fines.

“Stop shaking your leg so much, Frank. It’s making me nervous,” Frank’s wife, Arabella, said quietly.

Frank glanced around the nearly empty waiting room. The only other people there were a younger man and a woman who was either his girlfriend or his wife. It was hard to tell since she wasn’t wearing a ring, but she was visibly pregnant.

“What are you nervous about?” Frank whispered back. “I’m the one having the operation.”

Arabella rolled her eyes.

Frank stood to stretch. He prided himself on still being fit at forty-five, something he credited to running his construction business for more than twenty years. He looked at his wife, who was just as beautiful as she’d been in high school.

“You know,” he said, “I was thinking tonight, after this appointment, I’ll make you your favorite dinner.”

Arabella looked up at him. “You must be nervous if you’re offering to make chicken pot pie.”

“Not nervous,” Frank said as he sat back down. “I just want to do something nice for you.”

Arabella took his hand. “What if it’s, ” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s not,” Frank said quickly. “If it were something serious, do you think I’d be looking this good?”

Arabella wiped a tear from her eye and looked away as the young couple were called back.

“You remember when we found out we were going to have a baby?” she asked.

“I remember thinking your dad was going to kill me for getting you pregnant with only four months of high school left.”

The Rosses had only one son, George, who was now away at college. Frank wasn’t happy that his son, instead of joining the family business, wanted to study computer science. The arguments over the past two years had caused more strain than either of them liked to admit.

“Oh honey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Arabella said, squeezing his hand.

Frank appreciated the gesture. It had been three months since they last talked, really talked. Well, argued, right before George left for the new semester.

“I respect him for wanting to do his own thing,” Frank said. “But I don’t want to sell my business to a stranger. And I know computers are the big thing now, but I just don’t see how he makes a real career out of it.”

Arabella gave him a sympathetic look just as the door opened.

“Frank Ross?” a nurse called.

Frank and Arabella followed her as she recorded his height and weight, then led him into an exam room to take his blood pressure.

“Everything looks normal,” the nurse said. “Doctor Han will be in shortly.”

A few moments later, Doctor Han entered the room.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ross. I’m Doctor Han, a gastroenterologist here at General Metro Hospital. I understand you had quite a drive.”

Dr. Han looked exactly like the photo on the hospital’s website, which gave Frank a small sense of reassurance.

“About forty-five minutes,” Frank said.

Dr. Han smiled and flipped through the folder in his hands. “I’ve reviewed the notes from your primary care physician. It says you’ve been dealing with constipation for about six months.”

Frank nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And there’s been blood,” Arabella added. “Recently.”

Frank glanced at his wife, then back at Dr. Han, suddenly embarrassed.

Dr. Han studied him, his expression calm but serious, and pulled his stool closer.

“Blood isn’t always concerning,” he said. “But I’d like to run a CT scan today and collect a stool sample to check for abnormalities.”

“Stool?” Frank asked.

Arabella giggled. “He means your poop.”

“For simplicity, yes,” Dr. Han said with a small smile.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Frank had the CT scan, provided a stool sample, and had blood drawn. He was relieved when they were cleared to leave just before lunchtime. Dr. Han promised to be in touch soon.

Afterward, Frank took Arabella out to lunch and spent the afternoon walking around town. Since he was already off work, he wanted to make the most of the day. They visited her favorite shops, and while she was distracted, he even bought her flowers.

It turned out to be a lovely day.

They arrived home around five. After half an hour of watching the news and reading the paper, Frank stood to start dinner. It didn’t take long for him to realize they were missing the chicken.

“Hey, honey,” Frank called as he walked into the living room. “We don’t have any chicken.”

“I can run to the store quickly,” Arabella said, standing.

“I’ll get it,” Frank said.

“No, I need to stretch anyway,” she said, winking at him.

After a quick kiss, Arabella grabbed her keys and headed out. Frank settled back into his chair, the news murmuring in the background.

The phone rang, jolting him awake. He checked his watch. 7:00 p.m.

“Arabella?” he called out, but there was no response. He looked out the front window. Her car wasn’t in the driveway.

That’s odd.

The phone rang again. Frank picked it up.

“This is Frank.”

“Hello, Frank. This is Doctor Han.”

“Hey, Doc. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

“I apologize for calling so late,” Dr. Han said. “But we need to schedule another appointment as soon as possible.”

Frank stood very still. “Is everything okay?”

There was a pause. “I’d prefer to discuss it with you and your wife present. Could you come in tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “That’s fine.”

“I’ll see you then.”

The line went dead.

Frank set the phone down. Taking another day off work annoyed him, but whatever they’d found couldn’t be good.

He was dialing T.J., his second-in-command, when flashing lights washed across the front of the house. He looked up to see three police cars pulling into the driveway.

Something was wrong.

Before anyone could knock, Frank opened the door. An officer stepped forward, his face pale.

“Sir, I’m Officer Bushard with the Patterson Police Department.”

Frank swallowed. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The officer’s voice broke. “Mr. Ross… your wife was in an accident. We did everything we could, but she didn’t make it.”

The world seemed to close in. Heat rushed through Frank’s body as everything began to spin. His chest tightened, his breath turning shallow.

From somewhere far away, he heard, “Mr. Ross? Are you okay?”

The world tilted, and Frank fell backward into darkness.