A blond, smiling nurse leans over my bed, smelling like cinnamon and coffee. She adjusts my pillow and I blink several more times, keeping my mouth closed tight. I highly doubt she wants to smell my morning breath.
“I’ve got some more pain meds for you, Miss Katherine,” she says, handing me two white pills and a small cup of water.
I take them without saying a word and the nurse backs away, moving toward the whiteboard across from my bed. She writes “Joy” next to where it says “Nurse” in bold black marker before returning to take the empty cup from me.
“Okay, Miss Katherine,” she says loudly, as if the bull might have damaged my hearing, too. “We’ve got you scheduled for another CT scan this morning, and if everything looks good, you’ll be headed home later.”
“Okay,” I mumble, since I don’t think I really have much say or a choice in the matter. Nurse Joy fiddles with one of the machines near my bed as I attempt a stretch, but any big movement hurts way too much, so I tuck my hands back beneath the covers instead. “What time is it?”
“Seven fifteen,” she says with a smile.
Way too early to be awake right now.
The chair to the right of my bed creaks, and Becka pulls the covers down from her face to peek over at me. Her ponytail is lopsided and she has mascara smeared beneath her eyes, but she spent the entire night here. I’m impressed. She moves the recliner up to a sitting position and rubs at her face.
“Hey,” I say quietly. Unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to be all loud and chirpy this early in the morning.
“Hey,” Becka says. “How ya feeling?”
“Sore,” I admit.
Joy bustles over and straps a blood pressure cuff on my arm. While that’s going, she swipes a thermometer across my forehead. “Everything looks great,” she says. She unstraps the cuff and goes to write my numbers on a clipboard. Apparently, she’s both efficient and cheerful. “Okay, I’ll be back in a little bit to take you for your CT scan. Buzz if you need anything.” She flashes another pageant-winning smile before leaving.
Once she’s gone, Becka stands and stretches with a loud yawn.
The yawn is contagious, and I’m rewarded with another stab of pain. “Ouch! Shit.”
Becka laughs. “I’m proud of how you’ve held your tongue here.”
I pretend to look affronted. “Hey. I can use self-control… when I want to.”
“Apparently so.” She walks around the bed, entering the bathroom. I need to go, too, but I’m scared of having to get out of bed. Maybe I should wait on the meds to kick in again. The toilet flushes and she’s out a few seconds later.
“Did you talk to Carter last night? I must have fallen asleep.”
“I tried. He didn’t answer.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He sleeps like the dead. Becka hands me my phone, and sure enough, there are three missed texts, all from Carter. I respond, telling him I’m in the hospital, but fine. I tell him I’ll call him later.
“Is my mom still here?” I ask Becka.
“I’m sure she is. Want me to go check?”
“Nah.”
“Think I’m going to go grab a Starbucks. There’s one on the first floor.”
“No fair,” I whine.
“I’ll get you one, too.”
I hit my buzzer, and when Joy pops back in, I ask her if I can have a cappuccino.
She smiles like it’s a funny question. “I don’t see why not, and you can order breakfast whenever you’re ready. I set a menu there.” She points to my side table. “I recommend the Belgian waffles,” she adds with a wink.
“Awesome, thanks.” I’m liking Joy more and more, and Belgian waffles sound pretty amazing right now.
Ten minutes later, Becka reappears with two coffee cups in hand. “Your mom asked how you were.” She hands me my cappuccino, but I can tell from the steam billowing from the opening that it’s still too hot to drink. I carefully set it on the table next to the menu.
Maybe I should at least be civil to my mom, but it’s too hard to forget our last big conversation. She can just stay out in the waiting room. I don’t want her in here, not after betraying me like she did. “What’d you tell her,” I finally ask.
“That you seem better this morning, and about the CT scan.”
“Tell her she can go now. I’m fine.”
Becka’s lips pucker as she seems to consider something. “I would, but she’s my ride. Probably yours, too.”
“Damn. I forgot, my car’s still at the rodeo grounds.”
“Hopefully Psycho hasn’t gotten to it.”
“If he did, I’m gonna have to hurt him.”
Becka laughs. “I’m sure he’s shaking in his big bull boots.”
I’ve just finished with lunch when a doctor enters my room to tell me everything on the CT scan looked good.
“You’re all set to check out,” she says.
“Yes! I mean, no offense to you all. I’m just ready to ditch this joint.”
“Totally understandable,” she says, and I can tell she’s not offended in the least.
After signing some papers, Joy helps me back into a wheelchair and pushes me out of the room. My mom is still there in the waiting area and she looks like shit, no makeup and her hair a tangled mess, but she stands and gives me a tired smile. I do my best to ignore her.
“I’ll go get the car,” she says to Joy.
“I can walk you know,” I grunt.
“Yes, you can,” Joy says. “And I’ll let you as soon as we get to the front door.”
I can’t see her right now, but I know she’s smiling.
Once the three of us are in Mom’s car, an awkward silence seems to fill every corner of it.
Mom clears her throat as she pulls out onto the street. “Should we go get your car? Maybe Becka could drive it home,
