It was barely after lunchtime, and I was already exhausted. In the morning, I’d gone in for the closing on my house. I was officially a homeowner now, and at the moment, I was sitting on the empty floor of my house. I had a bunch of stuff being delivered tomorrow morning, and I wanted to have a plan in place. I was trying to get a good visual formed in my mind for furniture placement when my phone rang, interrupting my solitude. I dug my phone out of my purse. Dr. Oliver’s office was calling. Nausea swamped me almost immediately upon seeing his name flash up on the screen. I pressed my eyes closed, flopped down to lie on my back, and answered the call. “Hello?” “Katie? It’s Dr. Oliver.” Not one of the nurses or a receptionist, even. He was calling me himself. That couldn’t bode well for whatever he had to tell me. Every part of my body tensed in preparation to hear the worst, even though I knew there was no chance he’d tell me over the phone.
