pointed to the paperback book, two magazines, pack of
gum, roll of breath mints, several spring fashion catalogues, and a small grinning doll with an equally small
suitcase.
“Don’t touch Archie,” Renie warned as Heather
started to move the doll. “He stays with me. My husband got him as a good luck charm. Archie loves hospitals.” Renie grasped Archie’s tiny hand. “Don’t you,
Archie? See how cheerful he is? Archie always looks
cheerful.”
While Judith was accustomed to Renie and Bill’s
proclivity for talking to inanimate objects, including
their car, Heather Chinn wasn’t. The nurse looked
askance.
Judith decided to intervene before Heather recommended committing Renie to the mental health wing.
“I don’t suppose,” Judith said in a manner that only
suggested a question, “you had either Joan Fremont or
Joaquin Somosa as patients.”
“The actress?” Heather responded, looking at Judith
over Renie’s tousled head. “No. But the other one—
was he some kind of ballplayer, too? I was on duty
when he flat-lined.”
Renie jerked around to look at the monitor beside
her bed. “Flat-lined? Is that what you call it? All those
funny squiggly marks are good, then?”
SUTURE SELF
35
“Yes.” Heather smiled, revealing her dimples.
“You’re doing fine, Mrs. Jones. In fact, we’ve noticed
that you’re unusually . . . resilient.”
meant. And maybe nuts. “Mr. Somosa . . . flat-lined for
no apparent reason?”
“Not at the time,” Heather replied, checking Renie’s
IV. “I believe there was something in the postmortem
that indicated otherwise.”
“Drugs?” Renie put in. “I heard that might have
been the case with Joan Fremont.”
“I really can’t discuss it,” Heather asserted, the dimples now invisible and the brown eyes on the silent TV
set. “Would you like to watch the news? There’s a button on each of your beds.”
“No,” Renie said.
“Yes,” Judith replied. “I never get to see the early
news at home. I’m always working.”
“I almost never watch the news,” Renie said crossly,
“unless it’s sports.” She pulled herself up in the bed
and addressed Heather Chinn. “Are you saying Somosa did drugs? I don’t believe it. For one thing, the
Seafarers have a tough stand on drugs. So does major
league baseball in general. Not only that, but until he
blew out his elbow, Somosa had a 2.4 ERA and averaged ten strikeouts a game. How do you explain that?”
“I can’t,” Heather replied with the ghost of a smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t follow sports. I only know about Mr. Randall—Mr.
