When Kat awoke she had three pressing needs: a bathroom, a pitcher of water, and a pain pill. She pressed the call button and, when the scratchy voice came over the intercom, she pleaded for help. A nurse came promptly and assisted her across the cold tile floor to the lavatory. When she got back into bed, she found a Vicodin and a carafe of cold, fresh water. She downed the pill with two large glasses of liquid. The water tasted fantastic, and she hoped the pain pill would kick in soon.
“Here’s the menu from Jenny’s across the street,” the nurse said. “What would you like for lunch?”
“I don’t think I want any food right now. My stomach doesn’t feel so good,” Kat said.
“Can I tempt you with some cool sherbet or Jell-O? You should have something in your stomach with the meds you are taking.”
“Oh, sherbet sounds good. What are my choices?”
“Orange or orange – which do you prefer?”
When the nurse came back with Kat’s sherbet, she relayed the message that Dr. Walker had called and planned on coming by.
Kat was warmly pleased by the news until she gave thought to what she must look like. “Can someone come help me clean up? If I look as badly as I feel, I must be a scary sight.”
“I’ll have an aide come in as soon as you’ve finished your sherbet. Then you’ll probably want to rest again. Vicodin makes you drowsy, so you may drift off.”
“Please wake me if I’m asleep when Dr. Walker arrives. I don’t want to miss his visit. I want to know what’s happening at the clinic – learn if they’ve found any leads to my attacker.”
The aide arrived, discarded the empty sherbet container, and helped Kat into a sitting position. “What’s your name?” Kat asked the woman.
“I’m Nancy,” the aide replied. “What can I do to help you, dearie?”
“My boss will be coming by in a little while. I’d like to freshen up before he gets here.”
“Well, missy, if you are up to it, you can have a sponge bath, a fresh hospital gown, and a touch of make-up to brighten your appearance.”
“Oh, please, yes,” Kat responded, thinking it would feel good to be clean and fresh.
When her bed-bath was finished and she’d changed into a clean gown, Kat asked Nancy for a mirror so she could comb her hair and put on some lip gloss.
Nancy removed the basin from the tray table, wiped the surface dry, and then turned the tray top ninety degrees so a mirrored surface was facing Kat.
She groaned in disbelief when she saw her reflection. Her hair looked as if a family of sparrows had taken up residence. Gone were her neat russet braids, and instead her hair stuck out every which way. On her skull, high above her right eye, there was an angry red patch. Her hair had been shaved, and she had a nasty gash stitched with black silk. Her face looked as if she had been hit with a baseball bat. She had the beginnings of a black eye which would only get worse. Maybe she should be asleep when Jordan arrived.
Not seriously caring how she looked, she tried, without much success, to gently run the comb through her hair.
“Here, honey, let me help you,” Nancy insisted. She took the comb out of Kat’s hand and picked up a brush instead. She took particular care when she neared the wound. When she finished, she drew Kat’s hair back into a loose, thick braid.
Nancy handed Kat lip gloss and a small tube of hand cream. “Here you go. Hospital rooms are always too warm – dry everything out.”
Kat thanked her for her kindness and watched in appreciation as Nancy quickly straightened the room, smoothed her sheets, and opened the curtain.
After Nancy departed, Kat adjusted her bed to a semi-reclining position and turned on the television. Daytime TV sucked, but it was better than staring at pale green walls and Venetian blinds. Perhaps the drone from daytime game shows would lull her back to sleep.
She was just drifting off when Dr. Petersen walked in.
He parted her hair and inspected the stitches. “Not bad needlework, if I do say so myself.”
Next he pulled up her eyelid and looked in to her eyes with a bright light. “So how do you feel this afternoon?”
“No reflection on your medical skills, doctor, but I feel as if I’ve been dragged a mile behind a fast moving horse. I just want to go home, take a shower, lie on a chaise, and eat bonbons.”
Petersen laughed. “Not going to happen today, Ms. Morelli. Your eyes are still slightly dilated, and I want to watch your wound to make sure it doesn’t become infected. No showers until those stitches are gone. And you don’t strike me as the type to eat bonbons. One more night here, and I’ll probably release you tomorrow.”
“Are you serious? I can’t go home today even if I promise not to take a shower, lie on a chaise, or eat bonbons?”
“I’m afraid not. You’re here until at least Wednesday.”
As Jordan approached Kat’s hospital room, he overheard Petersen’s last comment telling her she would be staying at least one more day. He stepped to the side of the hallway and waited for Scott Petersen to leave his patient.
“Scott,” he hissed as the doctor left the room, “over here. Why are you keeping Kat another day?” he asked when Petersen approached. “Most concussed patients are released after just one overnight.”
“Ms. Morelli is not most patients,” the doctor replied. “Her bills are not being paid by an insurance company or PPO that fights every second of patient hospitalization. Her eyes are still slightly dilated, which troubles me a little. And when she returns home, she’ll be alone without anyone to take care of her. Those are three compelling reasons for me to keep her here.”
“Okay, I was concerned something more serious was the cause.”
“Well, I’ll be honest – I don’t like that her eyes are still slightly dilated. So I’m going to keep a close watch on her. I’ll check her again this evening. Go talk to her and cheer her up.”
“Thanks, Scott. She just started working for me and she doesn’t deserve what happened to her.”
“Be careful, Walker. People might suspect you have a heart buried somewhere beneath all your disdain. You don’t want to ruin your reputation.”
“She’s my employee, nothing more.” Jordan hoped he was being truthful.
At least she’d been moved from the small treatment cubicle in the ER into a patient room with a real bed. There were only three patient beds in the small clinic. Those, combined with the ER area which was also used for minor outpatient surgeries, encompassed the hospital portion of the building. The doctors’ offices and exam rooms were in another wing.
As he turned to enter Kat’s room, Jordan schooled his features so as not to register dismay at her appearance. Recalling how she had looked the night before, he knew her bruises would be worse today.
“Well, Ms. Morelli, are you feeling at all better today?”
Kat turned her face to him. “Before I answer your question, I’m going to make a request. Please call me Kat, okay? You call Torrey by her first name – you should do the same for me. Please.”
“I’ve known Torrey a lot longer than I’ve known you,” Jordan said, stiffening into his hands-off demeanor. “I don’t wish to appear disrespectful or act inappropriately.”
“Addressing me by my first name is neither disrespectful nor inappropriate.”
He nodded. “Okay – Kat are you feeling better today?”
“Not especially. I ache all over, my head feels ready to explode, and I’m tired and sleepy all the time.”
Jordan nodded solemnly, unable to relax in her presence. “I’m certain that being tired and sleepy is the result of your medications. We keep recovering animals sedated to hasten their healing, as you well know. People aren’t any different.”
“I’m frustrated. Dr. Petersen isn’t going to let me go home today. Another day in the hospital is going to cost you more money.”
“The clinic has both comprehensive loss and liability insurance, Kat. My liability insurer will be paying the bills, not me. And, unlike cases controlled by medical insurance dictates, Dr. Petersen will determine how long you should stay in the hospital, not a tight-fisted PPO. So, set your mind at ease and just concentrate on getting well.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, bowing to his higher authority with a gamin grin on her face.
She was cute, he thought, in spite of the ugly bruise. But she did have a sharp tongue. He’d need to watch himself.
“Now that we know the extent of your injuries and that you’re going to recover, would you like me to get in touch with your family? I’m sure they’d want to be here for you.”
“No. Don’t contact them,” Kat asserted. “My parents would be convinced I was responsible for what happened. I don’t want to listen to them criticize me for causing problems again.”
“Surely you can’t be serious,” Jordan said, looking at her in astonishment. “You weren’t at fault. You were doing your job and found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. You probably saved the clinic from a greater loss by interrupting the burglary.”
“You don’t know my parents,” Kat said. “If anything goes wrong, I’m at fault. They consider me a perpetual screw-up. I’m inadequate in every way. I do nothing right, unlike my brother who can do no wrong.”
Jordan didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t have heart-to-heart talks with his employees. They didn’t pour out their relationship problems in his hearing. He felt extremely uncomfortable at Kat’s confession of parental disapproval.
“As you wish, I won’t inform your family since your injuries aren’t life threatening. You’re an adult, presumably, and entitled to your privacy. I’ll have Torrey make a note on your employment documents not to get in touch with your next of kin without your permission.”
“Thank you, Dr. Walker. Your cooperation relieves my mind, and I’m certain will help speed my recovery. I don’t want my parents’ interference.”
As Jordan prepared to depart, another thought occurred to him. “If you’re unable to call on family to help you when you’re released from the hospital, Dr. Petersen may refuse to discharge you. Do you have friends who can help out?”
“I’ve only been in Spruce Creek a few weeks,” Kat said. “I don’t know anyone except a couple of neighbors and the people I’ve met at the clinic. So no, I don’t have friends who can help out. I’ll be fine taking care of myself; nobody needs to worry about me.”
“Dr. Petersen may disagree. But I’ll ask Torrey to work on the problem. She’ll find a solution.”