Sugar on Top

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Authors: Marina Adair
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more of a buyer’s remorse kind of issue. Either way, she let the unexpected wave of disappointment roll right off her and then gave an unaffected chuckle. “It was a long night, I was tired, and then there was the rain. It was bound to happen.”
    She could see the easygoing amusement creep back into his stance. “Rain, huh? And here I thought you’d just been chilled from the cold.”
    She opened her mouth to tell him he’d been pretty damn affected by their kiss, too, when someone cleared their throat behind her.
    Hand on her chest, Glory turned to find Peg Brass leaning heavily against the door frame. Her lavender dress was wilted, her purse hung from her clutched hand, and her usually sharp tongue seemed subdued by her loud panting. In fact, it was as though the door frame was the only thing keeping the owner of Peg’s Brass Peaches, the largest peach plantation in the county, from kissing the floor. Which was odd since the woman was the fastest peach packer in the sixty-five and over division.
    “I have to go.” She disconnected and made her way toward the older woman’s side.
    “Hey there, Mrs. Brass.” Gently she took the woman’s wrist, checking her pulse. It was erratic and her skin was clammy to the touch. “What seems to be the problem?”
    “The problem is I can’t breathe, my hand’s gone numb, I’m pretty sure I’m dying, and you’re too busy playing Who’s Your Doctor with Hattie’s oldest grandson to do your job,” she said between gasps.
    “Does it hurt anywhere else?” Glory asked and steered Peg toward the exam table.
    “I’m squeezing my chest. Where do you think it hurts?” the woman barked but her lips trembled. Peg was built like a horse, tall, sturdy, and bucked at any sign of weakness. She was also one of Jelly Lou’s childhood friends and her weathered skin was a little too pale for Glory’s liking. “Just my luck, I have a heart attack in a hospital and the only person around to help is still testing to get her license.”
    Ignoring this, Glory squeezed Peg’s left hand. “Can you feel that or is there any numbness or tingling in your left arm?”
    “What the hell?” Peg flinched. “I got the arthritis. What kind of medical expert smashes a patient’s hand when they got the arthritis? Especially when I already done said it’s my chest. It’s giving me the palpations, squeezing the breath right out of me. Fix that.”
    “Let’s check your heart rate.” Glory unsnapped her oxygen tester off her lanyard and slipped it on Peg’s pointer finger. Although her heart rate was elevated, the oxygen level in her blood seemed to indicate there wasn’t any blockage to the heart.
    “When did the symptoms start?”
    “Yesterday,” Peg said, and Glory felt herself relax. If this was a heart attack, and it had started yesterday, then Mrs. Brass wouldn’t be breathing much less talking. “After the Sugar Peaches’ meeting I was feeling dizzy. Then I went to the market and the palpitations started up.”
    “Did you call Dr. Holden?”
    “Why would I? The woman’s an idiot. Gave me these little pills to fix my cholesterol problem. A year later my cholesterol’s even worse.”
    As one of the top family practitioners in the state, Dr. Holden was far from an idiot. But preaching preventative medicine in a town where gravy, country fried, battered, and à la mode made up the four food groups had its limits.
    “Plus, I had a new Wheel of Fortune on the recorder,” Peg said as though that explained away everything. “And that Pat Sajak was wearing a blue tie.” The more the older woman talked about her game show, the slower her heart rate became and the steadier her breathing sounded. “He always looks good in blue.”
    “I want to try something. Can you close your eyes for me and think about something that relaxes you?”
    “Why? You think I’m dying?” And just like that her heart rate increased.
    “No. I want to rule out a heart attack, since I am pretty sure

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