"Joanne? Have you got the flyer from that auction?" Jack carried a large box into the office of the J & J Antique Gallery. He set the box on the floor and carefully straightened his back. Good grief, that wore me out. Gingerly, he walked around piles of books and stacks of papers over to where Joanne was hunched over the desk. "Joanne?" No answer. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and chuckled when he realized she was asleep. "Joanne, wake up," he whispered, suddenly feeling rather sleepy himself. "Joanne?" Something about the color of her face terrified Jack. Her usually fair complexion was now becoming cherry red.
"Joanne!" Alarm slammed through his body. Suddenly, an alarm went off behind him. Carbon monoxide! Quickly, he scooped his wife's limp body into his arms and carried her outside. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911 while he checked his wife's pulse. Oh, Lord, please not her!
"Mr. Allen?" asked Dr. Morton. Jack jumped up from the waiting room chair, prepared for the worst.
"Is she going to be all right, Doctor?" Dr. Morton smiled.
"With rest and oxygen, she should be fine in a week or so." Her expression became very serious. "Jack, you need to find out where that carbon monoxide was coming from. Ten more minutes, and it would have been too late for her."
"Oh, I will, Dr. Morton. Can I see her?"
"Sure. She's got a pretty bad headache, though. But that's a good sign - it means that her body is getting rid of the carbon monoxide." She led Jack to a darkened room.
"Thank you, Dr. Morton." Jack opened the door just a crack and stepped inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Joanne lying on the bed, underneath what looked like a mile of tubes. Her eyes were barely open. "Joanne?" he whispered. She stirred slightly and tried to say something, but the oxygen mask blocked her voice. "Hush, now. Just rest." He sat in the chair by the bed and held her hand. "I love you, Joanne." She squeezed his hand just a bit, and her eyes slid shut. Jack leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Thank You, Father.
"Jack!" Whit walked over to where Jack sat, sipping a cup of hot coffee. "How's Joanne doing?" Jack grinned.
"She's doing great! Dr. Morton said she should be out of the hospital by Monday."
"Oh, that's wonderful. Did you ever figure out where the carbon monoxide was coming from?"
"A broken heating pipe. The fire department came and found it."
"Great." Suddenly, Whit started coughing.
"Are you all right, Whit?" Whit chuckled and waved him off.
"I'm fine, Jack. Don't worry - you've done plenty of that the past few days."
"No kidding!" Jack swallowed the last of his coffee and set down the cup. "Well, I need to run. I told Joanne I'd get a few books for her. See you later, Whit!" Whit coughed again.
"Bye, Jack!"
Jack whistled as he carried his wife's favorite books back to her room. Tucked inside one of the books were tickets to one of her favorite plays - My Fair Lady. That should cheer her up! He turned the corner and saw Connie Kendall pacing the floor.
"Jack!" She darted over to him, and Jack thought he saw a tear on her cheek.
"Connie, what's wrong?" She sniffed.
"Whit- Whit was having chest pains, so I called 911. Oh, Jack, he already had one heart attack!" She burst into tears.
"Connie?" Dr. West touched her shoulder.
"How's Whit, Dr. West?"
"Oh, hi, Jack. Well, Whit is okay now. His EKG looks fine, so whatever's causing the chest pains isn't affecting his heart."
"Thank You, God," whispered Connie. "So, what caused the chest pains?"
"We're not quite sure yet, but once we get the chest x-rays back, we should know more."
"Whew!" Connie sank into the nearest chair. "I was so scared that he was having a heart attack."
"You did the right thing by calling 911, Connie." Dr. West patted her arm. "I'll go check on those x-rays. We should know something in a minute or two."
"Thank you, Dr. West." Jack sat down next to Connie. "This sure has been a wild week, hasn't it?" Connie half-chuckled.
"No kidding. I bet we gave that poor 911 operator bonus pay." Jack laughed. "So, how's Joanne doing?"
"She's doing great, and she should be out of the hospital in a few days." He shifted the books under his arm.
"She's bored, right?"
"Sitting in bed doing nothing is NOT on her list of favorite things!"
"Jack? Connie?" They both jumped up.
"How's Whit, Dr. West?" He grinned.
"Whit has a slight touch of pneumonia. With antibiotics, he should be fine in a few days."
"He's fine now," added a voice behind the doctor.
"Whit!" Connie ran over and hugged him. "Oh, I was so worried!"
"It's okay, Connie." He patted her back.
"You sure gave us a scare, Whit." Jack hugged his old friend. "Well, I'd better be getting back to Joanne. I'll see you two later!"
"Bye, Jack!"
"Oh, it's so good to be home!" Joanne set her books back on the nightstand.
"It's good to have you home, darling." Jack hugged her tightly. "You gave me quite a scare."
"I'm just glad we found out about that leaky pipe before someone was more seriously hurt." She grabbed her coat. "Come on! Let's go for a walk before we go to the play." Jack stood for a moment, looking at a picture on the wall. The picture was of the groundbreaking of the Timothy. Whit, Tom, Joanne, Eugene, Connie, and Jason were all there - the people he cared about the most.
"Jack? Are you coming?" Joanne studied her husband's face. He turned and smiled.
"Let's go." As the left the house, Jack glanced one more time at the picture. Thank You, Father.
A note to readers - be sure you install carbon monoxide detectors in your home. Carbon monoxide is colorless and odorless, so these alarms are the only way to detect it. Also, if anyone is having chest pains, call 911 immediately. It may seem silly, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
