Bitter Sweets

lifted his chin until he was staring down his nose at Dirk-not an easy feat, as Dirk was at least four inches taller. “Yes, he’s going to ‘croak’,” the doctor replied without the candy coating or further explanation.

    “Sooner or later? " Savannah asked, trying to sound sweet, but it came out saccharine.

    “Yes,” was the reply.

    “Thank you so much, Doctor.” She reached for his hand and gave it her firmest shake...the one that was guaranteed to make the recipient wince. He did. “I just can’t tell you how helpful you’ve been.”

    Dropping his hand as though it had something distasteful smeared on it, she turned and strode down the hall. Dirk quickly caught up.

    “Yeah, he’s helpful, all right,” she muttered. “About as helpful as a pissant in an outhouse.”

    As they left the building and headed across the parking lot to the Buick, Dirk stopped and grabbed Savannah by the elbow.

    “Hold on, Van,” he said. “Now that the dust has settled, I gotta ask you. What happened there at the colonel’s house today?”

    “What happened?”

    “That’s what I said. And don’t stall by repeating my own question back to me. That’s my trick.”

    “It’s every man’s trick... and you didn’t invent it. Men always act like they’re the first to come up with something.”

    “Oh, yeah? Well... women always change the subject.”

    “We do not.”

    “So, what happened at the colonel’s?”

    To his surprise, her blue eyes filled with tears and her lower lip began to tremble.

    She was going to cry. Savannah was going to cry right there in front of him. She had done it before, but it was a rare occurrence...and it made him feel completely miserable, helpless, and inept.

    “Can I...?” She choked, then tried again. “Dirk, can I please get back to you on that? I’ve got some thinking to do.”

    Right there, right in the middle of the hospital parking lot, in front of God and anybody else who wanted to watch if they were nosy...Dirk put his arms around his former partner and pulled her to his chest. Gratefully, she snuggled in and buried her face against the front of his shirt.

    “Sure, kiddo, take all the time you need.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her dark, glossy hair and thought for a moment how nice it smelled. “Just as long as you spill your guts to me by...oh, say...tomorrow morning.”

    Savannah sat in her floral chintz easy chair, Diamante on her lap, Cleo curled around her feet, a piece of half-eaten chocolate cheesecake on the table beside her. Raspberry liqueur sauce dripped tantalizingly down the sides, and onto the cut crystal plate, but-for the first time in the history of the world, or at least as long as Savannah could remember-she wasn’t interested in food.

    She gave the dessert another sideways glance. Nope, not even a niggle of appetite.

    Not a good sign, she thought. Any situation that couldn’t be vastly improved by a piece of cheesecake had to be a tough one, indeed. She must be more worried and upset than she had thought.

    Across the dimly lit living room, the time glowed in green numbers on the VCR. It was ten past four in the morning and she hadn’t slept all night.

    You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow , she told herself.

    It’s already tomorrow , came the sarcastic reply.

    See, I told you so . She had to have the last word in an argument, even if it was with herself.

    The slow creak of an upstairs door and the soft steps on the staircase told her that Gran was sleeping about as soundly as she was. Or wasn’t... as the case might be.

    A moment later, she saw her grandmother’s feet, the hem of her robe, and then the lady herself as she descended the stairs.

    For half a second Savannah felt guilty, afraid she had awakened the older woman, who probably needed her sleep. But the guilt quickly faded to relief at not being alone with her problem.

    “What’s the matter, Chicken Little?” Gran asked as she sat on the end of the sofa nearest Savannah and pulled her feet up, tucking them beneath her. “Is the sky falling?”

    “Not yet. I’m deciding whether to pull it down or leave it there.”

    “Pull it down onto your own head?”

    “On someone else’s.”

    Gran nodded sagely. “Mmmm... making a decision that’s going to affect another person...that’s always a hard one.”

    “Especially if you happen to like that person, and if your decision is going to have a major impact on his life.”

    Reaching