Revolutions of the Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

out and gently push them up.
    “Cory…”
    “Yeah?”
    “I liked your dancing.”
    She shook her head. “Not exactly dancing. When I dance I move. Like you, Mac.”
    He held his sandwich between his fingertips and stared at it.
    “Must be a pretty interesting sandwich,” she said. “Peanut butter?”
    He looked up. “Salami. Cory…” He stared again at his sandwich.
    Though she’d never had a steady boyfriend, Cory had been dating since ninth grade and she quickly recognized the signs of a boy’s interest. She saw them now in Mac and immediately engaged herself in a speedy mental debate. Did she want to? Yes, she realized, she did.
    Mac looked up, looked around, looked again at his sandwich. Obviously, she was going to have to help him. “Mac, maybe you could—”
    “Cory, you’re wanted in the office. Now.”
    Cory turned and saw Mrs. Hartwig, the lunchroom supervisor and possessor of the world’s largest voice. She faced Mac again.
    Mrs. Hartwig laid a hand on her shoulder. “Now, Cory.”
    Mac smiled. “I guess they just got word of the riot up in the office.”
    “I suppose I’ll get one of Mr. Donaldson’s famous lectures.” She tried to shrug off the woman’s hand, but it wouldn’t slip loose.
    “Upstairs, Cory,” the woman said.
    “What were you going to say?” asked Mac. “Maybe I could what?”
    The woman’s claw pressed on Cory’s shoulder. “Call me?” asked Cory.
    Mac tapped her on the hand. “You’d better go; she’s about to lose it. I’ll call you later.”
    Cory rose and grabbed her bag. “It’s listed under Mike Knutson, Big Bass Road.” She turned and followed Mrs. Hartwig out of the cafeteria, and they walked across the crowded room accompanied by a wave of applause. Cory bowed to the cheers.
    “It wasn’t really a riot,” Cory said to the principal as soon as she was in his office. “You know I wouldn’t do that, Mr. Donaldson.”
    He waved his hand to silence her. “Your father is on his way—”
    “That’s ridiculous! All I—”
    “Your mother collapsed at work, Cory. Doc Scudder took a look and sent her by ambulance to the regional hospital in Wausau. Mike is on his way to get you so that the two of you can drive down together. They had to resuscitate her. I hate to tell you this, Cory, but they said it doesn’t look good.”
    *
    “I don’t know a damn thing more,” Mike said as Cory got into the car. “Not a damn thing.” It was the last either of them spoke until they had driven at racecar speed the sixty miles to Wausau.
    The hospital was at the edge of town. Mike parked in the emergency lot and rested his head against the steering wheel. “Oh, God, please,” he said then.
    Cory held back as they approached the emergency desk. If her mother was dead, she would know by watching Mike. She couldn’t bear to hear it from a nurse while standing in a room full of strangers. Mike spoke to someone behind the desk and didn’t collapse, so Cory stepped to his side.
    “…stabilized first, then monitored carefully. Can’t say what caused it. Tests during the next few days will determine that.” The nurse looked at Cory. “No, you can’t see her right now.”
    Cory didn’t know she had even asked the question. Ninety minutes earlier she had been dancing on a tabletop; now she moved and thought and spoke in a fog of shock and fear.
    The fog lifted slightly two hours later when she was allowed to see her mother. Sleeping or unconscious, pale and still, her mother lay among the wires and tubes.
    “Oh, Mom,” Cory whispered. Then she kneeled and laid her cheek against her mother’s hand.

4
    Heart trouble had never meant more to Cory than the problems her friends had when they were ignored or dumped by their boyfriends. Within a few days of her mother’s hospitalization, however, she learned a broader definition. She now knew about the three layers of heart tissue. She knew about the Greek roots of the word cardiomyopathy. She knew that diseased