“Ah,” Steph says with a knowing smile. “You’re channeling your inner nurse. Well, I’m sure it will prove interesting. I hope your CPR skills are up to par.”
“Have you seen Hurley today?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Nope, and I don’t expect to. He requested some time off for a medical leave. He’s going to be out the rest of the week. Convenient, wouldn’t you say?” At first I don’t understand what she’s getting at, but then she adds, “Given that it’s Thanksgiving week.”
“You think it’s a ruse?”
“Who knows?” She looks over her shoulder and then leans forward conspiratorially. “Nobody here knows much about Hurley. He’s rather tight-lipped. A bit of a mystery man, you know?”
“But I guess that if the chief approved it, Hurley must have had some kind of supportive information for this supposed emergency, or a helluva convincing story. I wish I knew. I wouldn’t mind having the whole week off, too.”
I thank Steph for risking her job for me and head for the hospital to check on David. I’m told he’s still in ICU and I make my way up to the third floor where it’s located. When I step into the elevator—I see no reason to start the exercise abuse early by taking the stairs—I’m joined by Nancy Molinaro. She’s wearing a black skirt suit with thick, flesh-colored hose and a pair of serious orthopedic shoes. I can see dark hairs matted beneath the hose and consider suggesting that she cut some of it and try to transplant it to her head, where her scalp is shining through in spots. But I don’t. I’m afraid that if I piss Molinaro off, she’ll come knocking at my door carrying a fish wrapped in newspaper.
“Mattie,” she says, giving me a nod of acknowledgment. “Are you here on personal or official business today?”
“Personal,” I tell her. “I’m here to check on David.”
“Yes, I heard about the fire. Any idea yet how it started?”
“Not yet,” I lie.
“Well, I hope David is back on his feet soon. We need our best surgeon.”
That’s Molinaro for you, all about the bottom line.
“I must say, it does seem as if tragedy is following you around these days,” she says, looking faintly amused by the concept. “Ever since you left here and took that job at the ME’s office. Although come to think of it, you did get called in during your on-call time more than any of the other OR nurses. And I seem to recall your cohorts in the ER saying you were quite the shit magnet. I guess some people just attract trouble. I mean look at what happened with you and that nipple incident thing. Who would of thought that—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I say quickly, hoping to cut her off. But she has a point. I did receive the Black Cloud Award four years running when I worked in the ER. Fortunately the elevator arrives on the third floor and I am able to make my escape.
When I enter the ICU, the nurse on duty recognizes me and waves me into Room Two. I tiptoe in, thinking David might be sleeping, but he’s sitting up in bed wide-awake, eating his lunch, though
“Hi, David.”
“Mattie! Good to see you. You’re just in time to run out and get me some real food to eat.”
“It doesn’t look that bad,” I tell him, eyeing the food on his plate. “Better stick with what the doctor ordered.”
“Are you kidding me?” He pries the top slice of bread off his sandwich with his fork. “I mean, what is this stuff? The nurse said it’s chicken salad but I swear there’s stuff in here I removed from people in the OR. And then there’s this crap.” He moves his fork over and stabs it into a green square of gelatin on a side dish. When he lets go, the fork remains upright. “You know, we tried to nuke this stuff once and it wouldn’t melt. That’s not a good thing.”
“Other than the food, how are you doing?”
He pushes the tray away in disgust. “I’m fine. They tell me I have you to thank for making it out alive.”
“No big deal.”
“That’s not the way I heard it. So thank you.” He smiles at me and there’s a hint of the old David I once knew and loved in the glimmer I see in his eye. “I’ve always known you still care for me.”
The way he says this makes me wince. “I would have done the same for anyone,” I counter.
“They said the house is a total loss,” he says, ignoring my comment. “I can’t believe how much we’ve lost. And now I have nowhere to stay.” He stares at me long and hard, clearly waiting for me to offer up a suggestion.
“One of the hotels in town should do for now.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of staying with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “There’s plenty of room.”
“There’s only one bedroom,” I say pointedly. I give him a look that dares him to suggest we share not just an abode, but a bed.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he counters. “And it’s only a temporary arrangement, until I can get the house rebuilt. It’s the perfect opportunity for us, Mattie. It will give us the chance we need to work on our marriage.”
I roll my eyes at him and sigh heavily. “David, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in working on our marriage? You and I are done. Finished. I’m moving on.”
He throws himself back against his pillow and pouts like a child. “You are such an unforgiving bitch,” he hisses. “This is about that cop Hurley, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s about you and your inability to keep your pecker in your pants. And speaking of Hurley, what the hell gives you the right to ask him to back off?”
“Ha!” He shoots forward and points a finger at me. “See? If it wasn’t about him, he wouldn’t need to back off, would he?”
“There is nothing going on between me and Hurley,” I seethe. “And even if there was, it’s none of your damned business anymore, David. You lost the right to have a say in my life when you decided to bed someone else.”
His expression turns smug and he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back again. “Say what you want, but I’m not giving up, Mattie. I love you and I want you back. I want us back.”
“You should have thought of that before you went humping around like a dog in heat,” I say, borrowing a page from Hoover’s playbook.
“Object all you want but I know better. And I’m not going to sign any divorce papers. Sooner or later you’ll come to your senses.”
I figure two can play this game of hardball, so I cross my arms over my chest and fire back. “Well, if I recall correctly, David, that house that burned down is in both of our names. So until
His eyes grow wide with disbelief. “You’d really be that cruel?” he says.
“Damn right.”
“You
“With a capital B.”
The nurse pops into the room, effectively shutting both of us up. “Is everything okay in here?” she asks. “His heart rate and blood pressure are through the roof right now.”
“He’ll be fine,” I tell the nurse. “Besides, he’s too stubborn to die.” I turn and glare at David. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. See ya around.”
I turn and storm from his room, fuming over his insistent denial. But he manages to get the last word in.
“Yes, you will,” he yells after me. “I’ll see you at your mother’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”
