by Michelle, T.
“That’s probably a good decision. Are you sure you’re okay? I can leave now and be there before dark.”
“No, Kris. I’m fine. Stay where you are. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know how bad the car is.”
Hanging up the phone was like disconnecting her only lifeline and a momentary pang of sadness swept through her. Using her good hand and good leg, she push-pulled-wheeled herself to the edge of the kitchen counter and replaced the handset on its base.
The house was quiet, the sound of the rainfall echoed off the tin roof and windowpanes. Tabitha lost herself in solitude, thankful for the drugs coursing through her veins, numbing her physical and mental pain.
The phone rang loudly, and since she still had her hand resting on it, she picked it up and simultaneously called out for Jared. A tinny voice came through the earpiece and to her horror, Tabitha realized the phone automatically answered the call once it was removed from the base. She grimaced and responded by pressing the disconnect button and abruptly ending the call.
“Yeah?” Jared came in, wearing a pair of glasses that made him look distinguished and intellectual.
“Um, nothing.” Tabitha sat the phone in her lap and began to pull at the wheels of the wheelchair. The sharp trill of the phone sounded again. She held the handset out to him.
Jared scowled at the Caller ID window and went stomping down the hall as he answered it. The gruff ‘hello’ carried his deep voice back to her.
Tabitha headed to the kitchen sink for a glass of water. Embarrassment usually made her mouth go dry and she found that she was near parched by the time she maneuvered her way around the kitchen.
The kitchen sink was a large double-sided contraption of stainless steel with a small section in between for the garbage disposal. The right side of the sink was filled with soapy water and what looked like material. It dawned on her that it was probably the couch coverings she’d bled on the night before.
With a quick thought, Tabitha decided to earn her keep any way possible and formulated a plan for scrubbing the stains out of the material he had soaking. It took some time to drag a bar stool from the end of the counter, plus her own body in the God-awful contraption he’d sat her in, and situate herself next to the sink. Jared had left a scrub brush and cleaning supplies in the windowsill above her and she readily began setting herself up to begin diligently scrubbing away. Her body had a different plan; however, and she instantly knew that it wasn’t going to be easy work. Her muscles were beginning to scream in agony again and everything felt stiff and swollen. The pain pills were wearing off. Plus, she’d have to do the work one-handed. There was no way she was going to get her injured arm to move the way she wanted it to.
“What are you doing?” Tabitha had been so intent on getting herself from the chair to the stool, she didn’t hear Jared come into the room. Not that the man made much sound normally, which for his size really stumped her. Tabitha, for all her pint-sized frame was worth, couldn’t manage to enter a airplane hangar without running in to a corner or knocking something over.
“I’m trying to figure out a way to clean this mess up. I made it after all.” She pivoted around to look at him, snatching out at the counter for balance.
“The hell you are.” His tone was formidable and he was glaring at her with a look of malice. He had gone back to the bad place – the place of rudeness and attitude, distance and aggression.
Tabitha mentally back paddled, not sure exactly what she’d done to deserve his hostility. She was starting to regret not letting Kristin come get her. She pushed off the barstool onto her good leg and hobbled over to the wheelchair and plopped down. “I was only trying to help.” She muttered.
Jared snatched a milk carton from the fridge and slapped some pills down on the table. “There’s your antibiotic and pain medication. Take it with some milk.” And he stormed back out.
Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief, not really sure what she should do now. She took the pills as he directed and decided to go lay down. She was in the process of wheeling herself down the hallway when a sharp pain snared her right arm above the elbow. She screeched to a halt, instinctively reaching back to rub the bandaged area. That only made the pain flare up worse and she huddled in the chair. She was close enough to the wall to lay her head against it until the waves of nausea and discomfort subsided. Tabitha was right outside Jared’s door and began to overhear a conversation he was having with someone, presumably on the telephone.
“Of course I do, Amanda.” Jared’s voice sounded as though he were straining for tolerance. “No, that’s not a good idea. Why? Because I’m up to my elbows in caseloads and there’s a lot of things to be worked on here that I haven’t gotten around to because of the weather.”
Tabitha tried to wheel the chair past his doorway with one arm, but all she managed to do was tilt the chair outwards. If she tried any harder, she’d end up turning the thing around in a circle.
Jared began to speak again. “Yes, I would like to see you, but right now is not a good time. Look, I have to go now, Amanda. I’ll call you later, okay?” He paused a moment, stated a cursory goodbye and barreled out of the room, brought up short by his surprise at seeing her just outside his door.
Tabitha burst into tears. She had made him steaming mad, disrupted his weekend plans, and couldn’t even manage to get out of his hallway. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get to the guest room and my arm is killing me.” She lifted her uninjured palm upwards in a gesture of complete loss and then covered her face with it.
“Why were you trying to use it?” The significant creases of his scowl deepened over the bridge of his nose, but he’d softened his tone.
“Because I want to lay down.” Her pain was morphing into frustration. “I can’t do anything else.” A sob escaped her. “And now I can’t even get to the bedroom.”
“You should have called me.” He squatted down in front of her, raising the hem of his shirt to her face. “Wipe your nose on this.”
“I am not wiping my nose on your shirt.” She slapped his hand away and smeared the tears across her cheeks with her good hand. “I wasn’t going to call for you while you were on the phone.”
Jared looked up at the wall and seemed to give thought to what she said. “I suppose that would not have been a good idea.” He grabbed hold of her injured arm and turned her hand over. Blood stained the gauze wrapped around her palm. He grunted his disapproval. “C’mon. I might as well check all your sore spots and dressings. He picked her up again, laid her on the bed and directed her to roll half on to her stomach, half on her side exposing both the back of her arm as well as her calf.
“How are you planning to look at my leg with my jeans on?” Her voice was a bit muffled by the pillow she was pressed into, but she didn’t feel like attempting to brace herself up on one arm.
“I’ll take them off.”
“No you won’t!” She snapped and jerked her body up before she had time to register the response. The abrupt action caused her muscles to groan in protest, her arm screaming in white-hot pain. She cried out and crumpled onto the mattress, holding her arm and rocking while tears poured out of her. “I don’t like these pain pills. They’re turning me into a titty baby.”
“No, you’re just being a titty baby. Now roll over before I lose my patience with you.” He growled without any real menace and pulled at the comforter beneath her to gently roll her on to her side once again. “Quit worrying about being seen in your underwear. Your bare body is the last thing on my mind and I’m finding it a little irritating that you seem to be so preoccupied with it.”
That shut her up. She hadn’t considered that he didn’t give a whit about seeing her unmentionables. She lay passively on the bed while he tugged her jeans off and examined the bites on her leg. When he moved up to her arm, the slightest touch made her wince and after a few attempts, he sat down on the bed next to her.
“Okay, new plan. I’m going to make a few phone calls and then we’re going to take a little trip.
I think your arm is in more serious condition than I could ascertain last night. And by attempting to use it, you quite possibly have exacerbated the problem.”
Tabitha’s heart did a little trip in her chest. “Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?” He tenderly pulled the hair out of her face so she could talk better.
“With all the big words and stuff.”
“I didn’t know I spoke with all those big words and stuff.” He pushed off the bed. “Just relax, I’ll be back in a few minutes. And don’t move unless absolutely necessary.”
Tabitha lay in the room, fighting the overwhelming urge to throw a huge pity party. Now, he was going to make her go to the hospital. Another bill she’d never be able to pay. She felt her throat tighten and her chin begin to wobble but she fought the fresh wave of tears, afraid that at the rate she was crying, she’d dehydrate herself in a matter of minutes.
Time went by as Tabitha lay still, listening to the deep rumble of Jared’s voice. She couldn’t make out words, but his darkly satin cadence soothed her. The cessation of sound heralded his return.
“Okay – we’ve got a small drive to make to the helipad and after that, it should be smooth sailing.” His gruff tone belied the nonchalance of his words.
“Helipad?” Tabitha grunted as Jared began working a pair of huge sweat pants over her legs.
“Yes; I’ve got to get you to Methodist. It wouldn’t be prudent to drive – it’s too far away and although there’s a break in the storm, flooding has probably taken out large portions of the road. But, if we move fast we can get there by helicopter in between the two storm bands.”
“Why back to Houston? Doesn’t Giddings have a medical center?” Tabitha asked as he urged her to wrap her right arm about his neck.
“Because Methodist is the hospital I’m associated with.” He picked her up, heading toward the front door. “Sam!” He called out, leaning against the screen. Tabitha’s grip tightened on his shoulders.
Sam loped into view, head hung as he followed them out to the Jeep. “Does he have to go?”
Jared snarled at her. “I would no sooner leave him here than I would you.” At least he was being consistent – still a protective asshole when it came to the dog.
Once Tabitha gave it some thought, it seemed he had reverted to being a jerk after the phone began working again.
“Do you have a patient in trouble?” She ventured while he situated her in the seat.
“No, but I have a troublesome patient.” He eyed her pointedly before closing the door.
Tabitha cowered against the door when Sam jumped in and positioned himself between the seats. Jared did an exaggerated eye-roll at her as he started the vehicle, a look of total intolerance etched into his profile.
“I…I was just wondering if there was something, or someone…” Tabitha bit off her statement, not exactly sure what to say.
“You were wondering what?”
“Well, it’s just that your mood seemed to turn after that phone call. I don’t want to be keeping you from something else.”
“It’s really no concern of yours, Tabitha, and there’s really no way around it with your injuries.” He huffed.
“Since we’re headed back to Houston and I’m so inconvenient, you should be relieved to pawn me off on some other doctor.”
“No.” He bit out. “You’re one of my cases, I’ll finish what I started.”
“Way to make me feel like a person, Dr. Larsen.”
The bumps and dips along the dirt drive abruptly ended their quarreling as each joggle jarred her arm. She placed her forehead against the cool glass of the window and prayed for a reprieve, her arm tucked tightly against her side. Then her leg began to flare up because the material of the seat was rubbing against the bandage, the jolting vehicle forcing unbearable pressure on the soreness. She felt sick, her stomach roiling in response to the pain.
“Are you okay?”
Tabitha swallowed a couple of times before risking a response. “No. Everything is beginning to hurt. I feel like I’m going to throw up. The pain pills aren’t working any more.”
“It’s the way you’re sitting.” He patted his thigh. “Here, turn around in the seat and put your legs up on me.”
Tabitha rolled her head to look at him. To put her legs on his lap meant stretching them across Sam’s head. Another bump clacked her teeth together.
“Look, Sam will not attack you. First of all, he is only sent out to guard at night and chances are, if he hadn’t been spooked by the storm, he wouldn’t have done more than bark. Plus, I’d just let him outside to pee and you probably startled him.” He held out a hand to her. “Just move so you can prop your feet up on me.”
Tabitha slowly shifted so that she faced him and pressed her back to the door. Her leg was killing her, making the pain in her arm seem almost trivial. It really would be better if she could move her calf away from the edge of the seat. Lifting one leg at a time, she placed her heels in the middle of Jared’s thigh, the relief almost instantaneous. The dog didn’t move. In fact, he’d gone to sleep almost as soon as he’d lain down and hadn’t moved since. Tabitha expelled a pent up breath and closed her eyes.
A heavy, warmth appeared on her knee and she reached out to it, thinking she would be laying her hand atop Jared’s, happy he’d decided to show her a little compassion. What she touched instead was the softest velvet she’d ever felt. She cracked an eye then snatched back her hand when she saw that it was Sam’s muzzle she was stroking.
The big beast still didn’t move. He’d propped his nose up by her knee and gone right back to snoozeville, his hindquarters on the backseat and his front draped onto the console between them. Tabitha watched him for some moments, recalling that in the brief instances she’d seen the dog since their initial encounter he’d been docile and mute, never wasting much energy at any given time.
Tabitha reached out and rubbed the side of his nose with her knuckles. His eyes popped open and rolled to look at her. Her hand froze; her breath stopped. When he made no hint of a reaction, she began lightly stroking him again. His nose was the softest she’d ever felt and just as black as pitch. She smiled. He did seem to be a sweet dog.
A loud thumping sounded from the back of the Range Rover and upon inspection she saw that Sam had begun to wag his tail, slapping it down against the leather seat. She giggled and he licked her hand. Then his tail stopped moving and his rolled eyes closed. Sam nodded off again like a true narcoleptic.
“I told you he was a good dog. Better companion than most people.” Jared clicked on the radio and flooded the interior with Jazz tunes.
Chapter 4
The helicopter ride was a new experience that she didn’t exactly want to repeat any time in the near future - complete with horrible, gut-wrenching turbulence. Plus, Jared chose to sit up front and leave her in the back with the big dog. Sam had gotten a bit skittish when the small bubble of a craft began hopping around hundreds of feet above the ground, making her feel threatened. But, she’d risked a calming hand and soon they were calming each other on the flight: Sam’s warm bulk soothing her, her fingers lightly massaging his ears in return.
The weather certainly wasn’t optimum for a helicopter ride but the pilot had reassured her that “helis” are often brought in during weather in which small aircraft are grounded, even as the craft had begun to swing a bit like a pendulum while he attempted to calm her nerves.
The pilot had radioed ahead and by the time he set the small craft down in front of the hospital, a small team had gathered to assist getting them out of the rain. Sam stayed in the cab of the helicopter with the pilot, a friend by what Jared had said.
Tabitha found herself in a realm she knew nothing of, having never before been to a hospital for much more than to visit a friend. Jared and the staff pushing her down the hallway talked above her head in more ways than one. She spent a few seconds trying to crane her neck and listen to the different people, but gave up beca
use she couldn’t understand them anyway.
“Get x-rays and an MRI of her left arm and hand…also the left gastroc.” Jared called out as he broke away from the pack. The young man steering the wheelchair she was in slowed as Jared spoke directly to her. “I’m going to change and make a few calls. Tony here will show you to a nice room after some scans and blood work are done. Will you be alright?” It was the first show of concern he’d had for her since early morning.
She nodded mutely and watched him disappear down the hall with the other doctor and two nurses that had met them on the helipad. Tony pushed her through one monotonous white hallway after another until he finally parked her in a small room with a sign that read X-RAY/MRI WAITING ROOM.
“I’ll be back for you shortly.” Tony had a calming demeanor and a charm that Jared seemed to lack. Tabitha took comfort in that.
A very austere-looking woman appeared and ushered her through to a long metal table for x-rays where she was forced to endure all kinds of torture as the woman maneuvered her body into painful positions that Tabitha likened to human-origami.
Next, she was laid out on a long, slim table that looked to be fastened with a huge white donut on one end. She was told not to move as she was slid in to the circular end. The machine clunked and whirred around her legs then her left arm, having first been secured with round metal devices the technician had called ‘coils’.
Then Tony was back to wheel her down to have blood drawn and finally after at least two hours, she was tucked up in a comfortable hospital bed inside a private room. A nurse appeared to inquire about her comfort and provide some water, informing her that Dr. Larsen would be with her shortly.
Tabitha was worn out and decided a small doze wasn’t uncalled for. She slept fitfully until she heard the door click open. Jared was standing at the foot of the bed with another young, clean-cut gentleman reviewing a stack of papers on a metal clipboard. It was the doctor that had met them out at the helipad.
“Hi, there.” Jared met her eyes then cut his attention to the man at his right. “This is Dr. Moore.” A brief look was shared between the two of them as Jared came around to perch on the corner of her bed. “Tabitha, the scans of your upper arm show that Sam’s teeth chipped the outer edge of your humerus bone and the bone fragments are now buried into the muscle. Normally, I’d have no problem leaving them to be absorbed by the body, however, these two pieces,” he held an x-ray film up towards the window so she could see where he was pointing, “are far enough away to cause a justifiable concern and should be positioned back at the break. Do you understand what that means?”