[Gina Mazzio RN 01.0 - 03.0] Bone Set

by JJ Lamb

  Whatever.

  She pushed through the swinging doors and headed down the hall, looking for Katie Rifka, her first stop to see what she could find out about Arina Diaz, the administrator’s missing niece.

  An RN in burgundy scrubs raced past her, yelling out IV orders to someone in the meds area. Rifka sat in the nurses’ station, typing notes into the computer. She looked up at Gina with tired, red-rimmed eyes.

  “Gina Mazzio! Haven’t seen you for ages. Not since you left Oncology. Coming to work here, I hope, I hope, I hope?”

  “Don’t think so, Katie. Just stopped by for a quick chat.”

  A couple of doctors came down the hall, lost in serious conversation about a crash C-section. One complained how he’d had to start cutting a patient open before the woman was out of it from the anesthesia. Gina didn’t hear the rest as they continued on until they exited the unit. Probably taking a dinner break.

  “Okay, but make it quick. Don’t really have a moment to pee much less chat. This place is a mad house.”

  “Yeah, I can see you’re looking kind of stressed. Maybe I should catch you some other time.”

  “Honey, there is no better time. I may quit tomorrow, the way things are going.” Rifka rubbed at her neck. “What do you need?”

  “Actually, I’m a little miffed. Arina Diaz promised to get together with me last week, but I haven’t heard from her. Is she out sick or something?”

  “Don’t even mention that traitor’s name. If she’s sick, she sure as hell didn’t call in.” Katie’s eyes flashed, her cheeks turned a bright red. “We’re all on 12-hour stints because she bugged out on us.”

  “Not too cool.”

  “Tell me about it! Staff was already down two bodies before she fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Is this something she’s done before?”

  “No, but right now, census is through the ceiling. And she knew that. We’re fried!”

  Gina sat down next to her. “Not a clue as to what happened?”

  “Shit no.”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “I can almost tell you to the minute.” Katie signed off her notes. “Last Monday night we got off about five, after two hours of overtime, and we were supposed to ride the bus together. You know, the protection-in-numbers kind of thing. All kinds of creeps ride that damn bus.”

  “And?”

  Rifka’s face softened for the first time since Arina’s name was mentioned. “The poor kid was beat. This is a rough gig for anyone, and she’s about as green as they come. But she’s been on it, holding her own. Fitting in, you know? Doing a damn good job.”

  “So?”

  “I got on the bus, she didn’t. Sat her butt down on the bus stop bench. Said she was going to go shopping, or something.”

  “And that was the last time you saw or spoke to her?”

  “Yep! Our manager’s called her apartment, her boyfriend’s been around looking for her, and now you, for God knows what reason. What gives?”

  Before Gina could think up a plausible explanation, Rifka was called away from the station. Relieved she didn’t have to make up a story on the spot as to why she was looking for Arina, Gina sat on the tall stool and watched the swirl of activity in the L&D unit. Within a few minutes, Rifka was back.

  “You gonna get off any time soon?” Gina asked.

  Rifka gave her a cross-eyed look and stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, the accepted, if insensitive, “Q” sign for an expired patient. “Seven at the earliest, hon. Why?”

  “Had a couple of more questions I wanted to ask you about Arina.”

  “Look, if you guys are thinking of recruiting her for Advice, forget it! We need her here. Besides, I don’t think she’s got enough experience to go on the phones.”

  Gina raised both hands and leaned back. Now she was stuck; she didn’t want to cause any kind of problem if she could help it. “No, this isn’t a staff raid. It’s just that a, well, a friend of Harry’s saw her and would like to meet her.”

  “Harry? Speaking of which, I heard you two were on the outs.”

  “Yeah, well, when did you start believing everything you hear?”

  Rifka looked up and down the hallway. “Look, I was about to take a break … whether they want me to or not. If you want to go down to the cafeteria, we can talk there. I’ll tell you what I can about Arina, you can tell me about this on-again, off-again thing with Harry.” She grinned. “If he’s available, I might be interested.”

  * * *

  Gina swirled a tea bag around in a tall paper cup while Rifka sipped on a Coke and nibbled at a bagel, all the time repeatedly checking her watch.

  “Is Arina close with any of the other nurses?” Gina asked.

  “Not particularly. We usually ride the bus together because we live in the same neighborhood. Other than that…” Rifka broke off a piece of bagel, smeared it with cream cheese, and was about to stuff it in her mouth, then held the morsel in suspension, a couple of inches from her mouth. “Wait! I do think she’s gone to the movies a couple of times with Shawna … Shawna Jordan.”

  “Is Shawna on duty today?”

  “Along with every other warm body we got.”

  “Point her out to me when we go back.”

  “Why all the questions, Gina? I thought you were trying to hook her up with a date, or something like that. But the Gina Mazzio I know doesn’t get involved in the matchmaking thing. Besides, Arina already has a boy friend. In fact, he was here today looking for her.”

  “Jorge, right?”

  Rifka’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Now there’s a piece of work.”

  “A character?”

  “A male chauvinist pig! I know it embarrasses her, but she sort of shrugs and gets on with her work. The rest of us have tried stonewalling him, but he just keeps calling back until he gets her on the phone. Yuk!”

  “You say he came by here today trying to find for her?”

  “Around noon. Was real nasty about it, like we were hiding her or something. Tried to go looking into patient rooms. Had to call Security to get him out of here.”

  “Maybe she does need to go out with someone else,” Gina said.

  “I couldn’t care less about her personal gig,” Rifka said. “If she wants to be involved with that shmuck, much less live with him, that’s her thing. I just want her ass back here on the floor.” She looked at the wall clock. “I better get going before they send a posse out for me.”

  They collected and disposed of their trash before going out to the elevator.

  “I’ll point out Shawna,” Rifka said. “But I’m not fooled, Mazzio. I know you’re not giving me the real lowdown on why you’re so interested in little Ms. Diaz.”

  * * *

  Gina was able to grab Shawna on the run back in L&D. She practically chased after her down the unit’s hallway.

  “A couple of movies on Friday nights after work,” Shawna told her. “No double dates or anything like that. Jorge takes up most of her time and he doesn’t like doubles.”

  “She never complains about him, or anything like that?”

  “Arina? I‘ve never heard her bad-mouth anyone. Besides, I think their families are real tight, even though Arina did say her folks don’t really like him.”

  When Gina finally got out to her car, she felt like she hadn’t really achieved anything. Arina was a nice kid, good at her job, everyone liked her … and she was missing.

  Gina wasn’t looking forward to calling Vasquez in the morning.

  She hoped that perhaps Yee might come up with something positive by then.

  Yeah, sure!

  Chapter 28

  Megan Ann stepped out of the hot shower stall into the steamy dressing area and dried herself with a large, fluffy bath sheet.

  When she yanked off the plastic cap that protected her hair, billows of moisture turned her mass of red hair into a pile of Orphan Annie ringlets. She raked her fingers through it, trying to str
aighten out the tight curls, but they immediately sprang back into place, as she knew they would.

  Tucking her towel around her, she walked barefoot back to her locker and stared inside at the contents. Her mind drifted into an airy nothingness.

  “You’re going to catch your death of cold standing around like that, Megan Ann. Get some clothes on!”

  The sarcastic voice of the nurse wasn’t lost on her. It was one of the same RNs who had witnessed her sharp exchange with Gina outside the cafeteria.

  “Thanks for giving a damn,” Megan Ann called out to the departing back.

  She re-tightened the towel around her and reached out to caress the moss green woolen dress she planned to wear on her date with Eddie St. George. She had plenty of time to get ready to meet him at The Hideaway around 5:00. Her shift had ended at 3:30 and she was using every minute to ready herself. There was no way she would go out with that man in grubby, day-old scrubs. The shower had refreshed her, but instead of getting dressed immediately, she stared again inside her locker, specifically at a blue nylon bag. Her stash.

  No! Not now.

  She hurried to get into her underwear, pulled the dress out, and worked her way into it. The soft material fell around her, but her mind remained on the vodka minis and Valium tabs inside the blue bag.

  Three doctors had contributed to the large Valium vial, now crammed with two hundred pills – a safety net and her perfect solution for when she absolutely couldn’t stand her miserable life anymore.

  When that time came, she planned to wash them down with alcohol. Every last one of them.

  And there would be no heroics; she’d be well beyond any rescue effort that might keep her in the never-never land of a vegetative state.

  But today she wasn’t miserable, far from it. She was floating around somewhere up near the ceiling, looking down on herself. And what did she see? She saw a happy, expectant Megan Ann.

  When her makeup was finished and she was ready to leave, she started to close the locker door, but at the last minute grabbed for the nylon bag. She yanked out one of the miniatures and downed the vodka without a second thought. When the liquor crashed into her empty stomach, a welcomed heat blossomed through her body. She closed the locker door and hurried from the dressing room.

  * * *

  Megan Ann hoisted one hip onto a bar stool, then the other. It annoyed her that most bar seats were about an inch or so higher than she could slip onto comfortably. The Hideaway stools were no exception.

  She studied the lineup of liquor bottles on the back bar. So neat, so orderly.

  Wasn’t that the way life was supposed to be?

  The liquors’ many shades of color fascinated her, seemed to call to her; the small buzz from the miniature she’d swallowed earlier was long gone. Her mouth filled with a pool of saliva as she studied the offerings on the back bar.

  She pushed up her sleeve and glanced at her watch. Eddie should have been here by now. He was more than a minute late.

  Maybe he won’t come.

  Her attention shot back to liquor bottles. She wanted, no, she needed a drink. Now!

  But she didn’t dare. Not if she wanted to stay sober, to be with Eddie.

  She looked around at the crowd. Bars had never been her thing; they were for people who wanted to hook up with someone, or to socialize their habit. When she drank, she wanted no interruptions from people who really didn’t give a damn about her. Alcohol was about peace, oblivion – a night of not having to think about Aaron and her baby boy.

  The Hideaway was rapidly filling and several men were trying to hit on her, vying for the seat she was saving for Eddie.

  Two bartenders worked the crowd; the younger one gave her a big smile.

  “What’llitbe, beautiful?” He waited patiently even though everyone around her was trying to capture his attention.

  Before she could think about it, the order flew from her mouth: “Vodka gimlet, please.”

  “Coming right up!”

  As he walked away and began putting her drink together, she studied his trim body, his taut buns. A flash of yearning rolled into an ache that started at the base of her spine and curled around into her groin.

  “Is this seat taken?” asked a guy, about fifty. He slid onto the stool without waiting for a reply. “You don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you?”

  “No. Yes! That seat is taken.”

  The stranger ignored Megan Ann and held out a twenty-dollar bill for the bartender as the vodka gimlet was placed in front of her. Megan Ann immediately gulped down half the drink, ignoring the transaction.

  The bartender reached for the twenty, but before he could snatch it up, the payer’s hand was roughly pinned to the bar. The man grimaced in pain.

  “What part of ‘no’ is it you don’t understand?” Eddie St. George said.

  Megan Ann watched, but her mind was on the drink in her hand.

  The stranger pulled away and vacated the stool. “For chrissakes,” he snapped, “you don’t have to get violent over it.”

  Megan Ann stared into Eddie’s eyes. They had turned a stony green, his handsome face a tight mask of fury.

  The stool-stealer lingered behind them, slowly folded the twenty and intertwined it through his fingers, while continuing to stare at Megan Ann.

  “Get your ass out of here,” Eddie ordered.

  The man finally moved, merged back into the after-work crowd without another word.

  Eddie turned his attention to Megan Ann. “Way too beautiful. Can’t leave you alone or you get into trouble.” He was all smiles now, not a sign of anger lingered on his face.

  She downed the rest of the gimlet; radiating self-assurance swam through her body, making her tingly and warm.

  * * *

  Pietro’s, where Eddie had driven them for dinner, had an understated atmosphere of elegance. Megan Ann was aware of the upscale restaurant, but had never dined there. Eating out, like bar hopping, was not something she indulged in very often. When she left work she always went directly to the grocery, then to her apartment, ate dinner, and spent the rest of the evening trying to stay away from booze. And men.

  It was a simple life, but the only way she could stay relatively clean and sober. Sometimes one of the AA people she’d met would drag her out to a meeting, but she avoided friendships because she knew that sooner or later she would disappoint anyone who cared about her.

  She watched Eddie smile at the passing meal servers as though he knew them. Their table was near a bubbling fountain, where full-blossomed white, yellow, and pink orchids were tucked in stony niches; the air was sweet and fresh.

  He selected a light appetizer of eggplant, tomatoes, and olive oil, then suggested for her a main course of salmon with crusted pistachios in white wine. His entrée choice was an order of breaded sardines, with sun-dried tomatoes, over a bed of arugola.

  They started on the second bottle of Dry Creek fume blanc with dessert: a torte di cioccolata for her, but nothing for him.

  “I haven’t been this happy since my husband died.”

  “You were married?”

  She took a long sip of wine. A moment of sadness filled her, but she looked into Eddie’s eyes and felt a sudden peacefulness. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed that kind of moment.

  “Yes. And I was so in love with Aaron.” She reached for his hand. “You look so much like him. I can’t begin to express how happy I am right now.”

  She was finally in that special zone where life and the surrender to mindlessness were woven into one blissful union.

  Eddie had eaten less than half of his entrée, so she assumed he would probably share the dessert. But he kept his hands folded at the edge of the table while she ate every bite of the flaky pastry and its rich filling.

  He watched her eat; she enjoyed the attention, feeling not a bit self-conscious. When he smiled, she looked at his lips and wanted to kiss them, kiss his green Aaron-like eyes that made her body throb with anticipation.
/>   * * *

  Eddie was fascinated by the twin rings of perspiration under Megan Ann’s arms. The more wine she consumed, the larger the stains spread. He had to force his eyes away from the damp spots, just as he had to will himself to not look directly into her eyes. Her happiness made him feel unexpectedly strange.

  He’d limited himself to only two half-glasses of the Russian River Valley white, while she’d consumed the rest. Part of him didn’t want her to get tipsy, or drunk; he wanted to pretend this was just a date. A date with a beautiful woman he found extremely attractive. But he couldn’t forget why he was here, couldn’t forget Father.

  The waiter brought the check and Eddie paid in cash. As they wended their way between the tables toward the front door, he held her elbow lightly, ready to grab her if she faltered. He was amazed that after all that wine she could even stand, much less walk with a steady, even gait.

  When they were settled in the Jaguar, he worried that the motion of driving might make her car sick, causing her to lose not only her dinner but the roofie he’d dropped into her last glass of wine. But all she did was hum along to the latest Clifford Alden jazz CD playing on the cars audio system.

  By the time he’d driven into the parking lot at the rear of St. George Fine Meats, she was asleep, snoring softly. Swallowed up in the peaceful silence, he wanted desperately to turn around and drive her home.

  Why did she have to make herself so available? All he knew about this redheaded nurse was that she worked at Ridgewood, and unexplainably, he was very much attracted to her, to her beauty, to her tenderness.

  His head hurt with all the things he didn’t know or understand.

  One thing was certain, one thing that couldn’t be changed: there was no going back. What was done was done.

  Sliding out of the car, he opened the passenger door and reached in to haul Megan Ann up and onto his shoulder. As her dead weight settled in place, she let out an animal grunt.

  He could barely breathe as he moved with heavy steps through the shop and finally into the big cold room. When he placed her on the cutting table, her arms and legs splayed out in every direction; a glob of drool ran down her chin.