Again Sam proved her wrong. The nurse who came to her room came alone. Her nametag was pinned to her uniform: Bertha Powell, RN.

“Dr. Sam sent me,” Bertha announced.

Marjorie studied the older woman, who looked as though her previous profession had been mud-wrestling. She was built as solid as a rock, and from the glinting light in her eyes, she was just waiting for Marjorie to start something.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Dr. Sam asked me to tell you that he’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“Wonderful,” Marjorie muttered, and wiggled her big toe as an experiment. The pain wasn’t debilitating, but she wasn’t exactly up to swinging from jungle vines, either.

Bertha pulled back the sheet. “Are you ready?”

Marjorie wondered what the other woman would do if she announced that she refused to move. Briefly she toyed with the idea, then decided against it. Her teeth gritted, she cautiously did what had been requested of her.

Exhausted afterward, Marjorie slept for six hours. Someone moving inside her room woke her. When she stirred and opened her eyes, she found Lydia standing at the foot of her bed with a small bouquet of flowers in her hand.

“Hi, Marjorie,” Lydia said in a soft voice.

“I had my appendix out,” Marjorie grumbled. “I stopped your friend in the nick of time from doing a lobotomy.”

Lydia looked relieved and set the flowers on the bedside table. “Same ol’ Marjorie.”

“I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m used to it, remember?”

Marjorie tried to wipe the tiredness from her eyes. “I bet you’re waiting for me to tell you how right you were.”

“It’d feel good, but I can wait.” Obviously she couldn’t, because she added, “Didn’t I tell you it had to be more than a queasy stomach? I figured it out long before you, didn’t I?”

“Yup, you did,” Marjorie returned, with more than a hint of amused sarcasm. “Where would I be without you?” That much wasn’t in jest. She was sincerely grateful her friend had made the appointment when she did, especially after what Sam had told her.

Lydia pulled a chair close to the hospital bed and plunked herself down. Without so much as pausing to inhale, she started off with a long series of questions. “How do you like Dr. Sam? Isn’t he wonderful? Didn’t I tell you he was a marvel? Now that you’ve met him, you’ll probably be like everyone else and fall madly in love with him.”

“No doubt.”

Lydia’s face blossomed into a wide grin. “I knew you’d like him.”

Just managing to avoid her friend’s gaze, Marjorie asked, “What’s his wife like?”

“His wife?” That stopped Lydia cold. She opened and closed her mouth twice. “I didn’t know he was married.”