Prologue
Hello, everyone. I’m Oliver Ricardi and I’m a massage therapist. First, I want to give a shout out to my best buddy from high school, Juliet Sullivan. She’s damned talented and the hardest worker I’ve ever known. As for my specialty, I have several degrees and certifications. Most people are unaware of the rigorous requirements to become a licensed massage therapist. A candidate needs to complete a massage therapy training program and pass a licensing exam. These programs typically require around 500-1,000 hours of training, which can take several months to a year to complete. Many programs offer diplomas or certificates upon completion. I attendedThe Onondaga School of Therapeutic Massageright here in Rockford. It offers a course of study that can be completed in 6 to 15 months. After completing my training, I passed theMassage and Bodywork Licensing Examination.Gaining experience through apprenticeships or internships is the path most of us follow.
Chapter 1
Oliver sat in the hospital room at the side of his mother’s bed. Her face was unnaturally pale and the skin on her hands was papery. He’d only been told she’d had a stroke. More news would come when the cardiac guy arrived. Oliver had called all his brothers and they said they’d be here as soon as possible.
He bent over and clasped his hands.Please dear God, don’t let her die.I’m not ready for that. He continued to mumble prayers until he heard the sweep of the door opening. He straightened and turned around.
“Hello, Mr. Ricardi. I’m Dr. Anabelle Baxter. The interventional cardiologist on call tonight.”
For a minute, he stared at her. Then he blinked. “I’m Oliver. My brothers are coming in too, but I’d like some information now if you have it.”
“I have some. I’ve ordered an MRI and we should have the results soon. Once we get them, we’ll know what kind of treatment she needs. But I should tell you that your mother exhibits symptoms of a stroke. She might need to have the blockages formed in her arteries cleared.”
“What’s the treatment for that?”
“Surgery. The easiest thing to do would be to put in stents. Do you know what they are?”
“Yes, little mesh thingies that allow the passage of blood through a blocked artery or vessel.”
Her mouth quirked up at the edges. “Little thingies? I’ve never heard it put that way.”
“I don’t know the exact definition but I got the gist.”
“It’s a small metal or plastic tube. But yes, you got the gist.”
“What’s the worst-case scenario?”
Her light brown brows furrowed. “Full open-heart surgery, done by a cardiovascular surgeon. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Her phone beeped. “I have to go. Are you alone here?”
“Yes. But I called my brothers. They’re on their way in.”
“I can update all of you when they get here and I have the MRI results. In either case, she can’t be alone when she goes home. Does she live with anyone?”
“No, she has her own house.”
“Then you and your brothers should discuss who will be with her for a few weeks.”
“We will. Thank you, Dr. Baxter.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled fully. It transformed her face. Man, she was pretty. She wore no makeup but had flawless skin. Her steel-blond hair was pulled back in a knot at her neck. And her blue eyes shone like the sky. He watched her walk away, then sat down at a table.
* * *
Anabelle Baxter led a quiet life. That’s how she liked it. At forty, she’d succeeded in her career and was raising two beautiful little girls.
Oh, dear. Then why did she feel her heart jump-start when she was with Oliver Ricardi? He was cute enough, and sweet enough, but Anabelle didn’t let men into her life anymore.
Just after she put in the order for an MRI, her phone rang. “Dr. Baxter.”
“Hi, honey.”
“Mom, is everything all right? How are the twins?”
“They’re fine. Your dad’s taking the afternoon off so we’d like to take them out on the boat. Any chance you can get away?”