3 Executive Sick Days

by Maria E. Schneider

  In a single heartbeat, Crissa scurried up onto the nurses' station desk, completing the four foot jump in a single bound. The admitting clerk on the other side of the desk, a large black woman, had her arms around her knees and her feet balled up into the chair where she sat. There weren't any other high surfaces available unless she wanted to join the patient on the bed or try and share the top of the desk with Crissa.

  Good thing the patient wasn't being wheeled anywhere in a hurry. He tried to sit up, looking around in dazed confusion.

  Crissa blinked and came back to life. "Don't worry, sir. Everything is fine. Just ran our carts a little too close. We'll mosey you along." It would have been a lot more convincing had she not been clutching her blond hair with both hands and calling her reassurances from the top of the desk.

  I reached out and halfheartedly pushed the patient backwards away from the snake.

  Crissa had no choice but to come down from her perch. She did a good job of staying far away from the serpent. She was no dummy either; yanking the bed toward her, she went backwards in the direction of the x-ray department.

  After the bed disappeared down the hall, I moved the crash cart carefully. I did not want to find that the snake had flattened but not died. If it got away, I couldn't work here anymore, because it would remember me. No doubt it would pop out of a cabinet or drawer someday and attack me.

  Mr. Vin saw the results and let out a screech that convinced half the people present that I had run over him, not the snake. "That is mine! You cannot kill! I am collector!"

  I didn't point out that he shouldn't take his collections out into public, especially after they had bitten him. I gasped with relief because the thing was very, very dead.

  Mr. Vin didn't stop screaming, even though John hurriedly rolled the wheelchair away.

  The smashed snake lay there, mangled.

  I waved my hand at it. "Shouldn't someone clean this up?" Several pairs of eyes looked at me.

  All of the feet connected to the eyes backed away, except Dr. Taylor's. He stayed put, staring at me intently as if he were going to say something incriminating.

  "Dr. Taylor, room one," a voice hailed from down the corridor. "Stat."

  I didn't mind that he had to leave. "Stat" was the word the hospital used for "we have an emergency," and it broke his concentration, moving it instantly elsewhere.

  "Does anyone have a trash bag?" I asked.

  The admitting clerk, still balled up on the chair, reached down to a side counter where a large pot of coffee rested. Leaning precariously, she opened a drawer, emptied a coffee can into a filter paper and handed me the can and lid.

  I stared at it and her for a while before taking it. "Thanks." I didn't mean it, and she knew it.

  With the side of the crash cart, my foot and the can, I managed to sweep the body of the snake into the can. I held it away from my body and headed outside.

  Where to get rid of it? If I left it in the open people would freak out when they saw it. It could cause an accident.

  I stared down at the can. It could actually be mistaken for a live snake. Even dead, it was still a snake. A scary snake.

  Hmm. Maybe…Mr. Snake could help me out.

  I made sure the lid was on very, very securely and then put it in the back of my SUV with the tire iron on top of the lid. Of course it wouldn't slither out of there, it was dead. I searched for something else to put on top, but my SUV was woefully unequipped for snake transportation.

  "I need a new job," I told myself.

  Back inside, I discovered it was my lucky day. Now that the snake was removed, a janitor was willing to mop the floor of the tiny smear that was left. "Good thing. I wasn't going to do it."

  I hurried upstairs.

  Brenda immediately waved me over. "Look out," she whispered. "Sally is after you."

  "Attila? Why?"

  "Something about you killing one of the patient's pets."

  How in the world had Attila already found out about the incident? It had just happened, and I hadn't been gone that long disposing of the snake body. "Brenda, it was a snake, for God's sake! What did she expect me to do with it?"

  Brenda's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Really? Crissa didn't mention that."

  "Crissa told Attila that I killed a patient's pet? And she didn't tell her it was a snake?"

  Brenda tapped her foot, thinking. "No, Crissa didn't say what kind of pet. She only told me that Attila was looking for you because of the pet you killed." She rolled her eyes in sudden panic and looked around to make sure that Attila wasn't bearing down on us. "I mean Sally."

  Hmm. Either the telling had morphed already or Crissa had left out important details on purpose. Maybe she really was jealous over the Mark incident.

  Brenda's eyes widened suddenly, and she scurried away like I had the plague. The second I took my first step down the hall toward relative safety, I heard my name cawed out. "Sedona O'Hala! Mizz O'Hala!"

  Oh, for pity's sake.

  "I understand you upset one of our patients." Attila looked me over with an evil eye so threatening, I shuddered.

  "Really?" I blinked rapidly. "Which one?"

  My stall tactic halted her for a moment. She recovered quickly, drew herself up and began listing Mr. Vin's complaints. Sure enough, there was no mention of the fact that his "pet" was a venomous snake. "You cannot kill patient pets! We could get sued. I really think you should reconsider volunteer work. Perhaps there is some other good deed you could do."

  "Uh-huh." What was she going to do, fire me? I stood there while she explained that she was going to write me up again, and then I walked away, relieved. At least the patient on the bed who was rammed with the crash cart hadn't complained. I felt bad about him getting caught in the crossfire.

  Crissa certainly hadn't wasted any time reporting me to the head nurse. It would seem to me that the snake part was pretty damn important. Geez. How many people were walking around thinking I had run over Fido, the cute poodle?

  When I had a bad day, it was always a good idea for me to change course as soon as possible. I took one step in the right direction. I told Brenda I wasn't feeling well and left.

  That didn't mean that I played it smart when I got home.

  Chapter 22

  Instead of going directly to bed without passing go, I made myself breakfast, lunch and dinner when I got home. Feeling only moderately better after eating, I called Amy, but she didn't answer her cell. I left my number and my best stuttered good wishes. Maybe Huntington had an update, but rather than call him, I dialed my parents to find out if they had recovered from Dean's news.

  I shouldn't have bothered. Why was it that when one sibling was in trouble, all children got the cold shoulder?

  "Hello, Mom? It's Sedona."

  "Yes, I know." My mother's voice was on the frosty side. "Just because I don't get invited to the important events in my children’s lives doesn't mean that I don't recognize their voices."

  "So, Happy New Year!"

  "You had best talk to your father."

  Uh-oh. That meant that she was barely keeping her temper. It had been a few days since the news, but apparently she hadn't calmed down. My father's mixed heritage, a bit of American Indian from my grandfather mingling with European genes from grandmother, had somehow produced a blessedly calm demeanor. Nothing much riled Dad, except maybe my mother.

  She must have been on a real tear because Dad sounded strained.

  "Sedona," he sighed. "Thank God it's you. If either of your brothers call here again soon, I swear I'm having the phone taken out."

  "That bad?" I wondered what Sean had done to get on the "don't answer," list.

  "Unbelievable! You heard that Dean is married? And, and…" Dad seemed unable to express himself. I could picture him gesturing, waving his hand at the ground. He always did that when angry, stumped or otherwise frustrated. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was an agricultural scientist; it was usually plants that caused his
frustration.

  "What is her name?" I asked to break the stuttering.

  "Married," my mother shrieked in the background. Dad said forcefully, "Her name is Anne. Anne O'Hala." Mom shrieked again.

  "Uh, Dad, we might want to wait until she’s calmed down to talk about this."

  "She may as well accept it. It's done. So's the baby." There was no shriek this time, but a rather deadly silence.

  "Isn't Mom happy about the baby? I mean, she bugged Sean about kids all the time. I'm not even married, and she hints about me having kids as soon as I do get married."

  "You would think so, wouldn't you? But apparently grandchildren don't count if you don't go to some silly ceremony and stand there and cry like an idiot."

  I heard pots and pans in the background. "Dad--"

  "She's going to have to get over this and so is Sean."

  At least that allowed me to change the subject. "Why is Sean upset?"

  Dad mumbled something.

  "What?"

  "Dean's baby is due about the same time as Brenda's."

  I digested this information slowly. "Didn't you and Mom notice when Dean and Anne arrived that she was pregnant?"

  "You know I've seen enough cows in that state growing up on the ranch." The pans banged louder. "Your mother thought she was fat and dressed funny."

  I closed my eyes. "What do you mean funny?" I did not want to hear that both my brothers had married women who went around dressing as bunny rabbits. My family wasn't perfect, but I used to think we fell within the "normal" range. Apparently not. I thought of something else. "So, is Mom mad because Anne is pregnant or because she didn't notice it?"

  "Both," he said. "And upset with me because I didn't mention that I thought Anne looked pregnant."

  I heard Mom yell, "You sit and talk about any other rude topic and right at dinner, too. Now all of a sudden you're too polite to bring up something this important?"

  "Don't answer that," I advised. "You aren't going to win. You know how Mom hates to look foolish."

  "And she was being very welcoming," Dad said. "Even hinted at how nice it would be to have a new daughter-in-law and how marriable Dean was."

  Ohboy. And now Mom felt like seven kinds of a fool. "So why is Sean upset about the baby being around the same time? What different does that make?"

  "What?" Dad asked absently.

  "Sean? Why is he upset?" I was losing Dad's attention and fast. No doubt he was keeping one eye on my mother. Her temper tended to flare and then cool quickly. But while it was hot, it was a good idea to keep one eye out for flying objects. Not that she would ever hurt anyone; there just might be a few things that Dad might want to put out of reach temporarily.

  "Sean?" he repeated. "Oh, yes. Some nonsense about they announced it first and by God how could Dean waltz in and take Brenda's moment."

  "Where is Dean now?"

  Another long pause and then a sigh. "He went back home. Too much excitement for Anne."

  "I thought he was coming up here?"

  "Well, yes, but he and Sean had a rather big hashing on the phone, and things were in quite an uproar…" I knew Dad was waving at invisible plants again.

  "So he won't be coming up here?"

  "Eventually," Dad said. "But I think he'd had enough for one trip."

  Imagine that. "I'll call him at home."

  "You do that. Give him our love."

  "Tell Mom I'm still single, will you?"

  He grunted. "Not sure that will help. Good-bye."

  Now I had to call Dean. I dialed very, very reluctantly. "Dean?"

  "Hi."

  "I understand congratulations are in order." I plowed ahead using my new "happy for the patients" voice. "Not only for finding a wife, but for the little bundle of joy that will be joining you soon."

  "Don't you have any complaints? No problems with the timing? No problems with when you were told or not told? Perhaps--"

  I cut him off. Dean loved to lecture. Maybe that was why he became a teacher. The students had to listen to him; I did not. "Dean!" I shouted into the phone. "When are you coming for a visit?"

  There was a moment of silence. "We were coming up there after Christmas. But things got tense."

  "You probably should have hinted," I said.

  "I did."

  "Really." I did not believe him. Dean was very articulate, to the point of being boring. If he wanted Mom to have an idea, he was certainly capable of getting his point across. "Maybe you could make it up here for spring break. I'd love to meet Anne. Dad had nothing but good things to say about her." It would have been more accurate to say that he hadn't said anything bad about her, but even I could be tactful when I tried.

  "What did Mom say?" he asked.

  "She didn't say anything," I admitted candidly. "She wasn't in the mood to talk so she gave the phone to Dad. I'm sure it's the surprise though, not that she has a problem with Anne."

  "Why can't she get over it already? It's my life and my decision." He started ranting about the unfairness of it all.

  "Dean!" I shouted again. "I only called to say congratulations. Mom will calm down in due time. You know better than to worry about her."

  There was a long pause. "I should have told them."

  I wanted to ask why he hadn't, but that would make him mad again. To my surprise, he offered it up anyway. "We had to get married during the school year. She was pregnant, and we didn't have time to plan a ceremony and wait for Mom to get all excited and make a big deal out of a wedding. It was better to show up with everything taken care of rather than sort a lot of loose ends."

  Ohboy. I wish he had not told me that. Now, if Mom or Dad started wondering about when the wedding versus the baby had happened and they asked me, I was going to be in trouble. "Dean, I think it's great that you found someone wonderful and are married. Do you know if it is a girl or a boy?"

  "It's a girl."

  "Excellent." I made a few comments that I was pretty sure were in line with what a sister was supposed to say and then hung up the phone only a little bit sooner than was probably polite.

  "Sheesh." Now to avoid any telling conversations with Mom and Dad, and I'd be fine.

  When the doorbell rang, I only answered it because I was hoping it was Mark.

  Whoops. Wrong Huntington.

  Chapter 23

  Huntington barged in. "I thought you were going to blend in better," he sniped without preamble.

  "I am blending in. Trust me, unlike the last time, no one has blown my cover." A nicer person wouldn't have reminded Huntington that he had blown my undercover status on the last case, but I had used up all my "nice" with my family.

  "That isn't what I meant. Do you have to go killing people's pets in the ER?"

  "I could have let the snake roam the hospital."

  He paused in his pacing. His head tilted. "That would have called less attention to you."

  "Okay," I promised nastily. "Next snake, I leave it alone. Won't touch the thing."

  He watched me carefully, waiting for the punchline that didn't come. "It was really a snake?"

  I nodded.

  "Probably better if you kill it in private next time."

  The man could not cut me any slack. "Fine! I'll lure it into the woman's bathroom, no problem." I flapped my arms. "What do I look like, a belly dancing snake charmer?"

  He looked me up and down. "No, not really, but it would be interesting to see you in such an outfit."

  I started to answer, but had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. I clamped my mouth closed. I think my face may have gotten red.

  "Are you dating Mark?"

  I blinked. "What?"

  "My brother."

  I rolled my eyes. I knew who he was talking about. I didn't know the answer though. Or did I?

  "What are you smiling about?" he asked.

  "I'm not."

  "Yes, you are." Huntington said. "You have one of those very small grins, like you're pleased with yourself."

&
nbsp; "I don't have a smile like that."

  "Yes, you do. And you have one for when you're not going to answer my questions because you're mad, but this isn't that one."

  I crossed my arms in front of me before I realized doing so was definitely my "I'm-not-going-to-answer" signal.

  He laughed. "Okay, it's none of my business, but you do look happy about it."

  "How can I look happy about it when I haven't even said I was dating him?"

  Huntington shrugged. "It's the look in your eyes lately when I mention Mark."

  I didn't know what my eyes looked like, but the mention of Mark's name did make my stomach flip-flop. "Hmph."

  Huntington took a step closer. I held my ground, but just barely. "You're going to drive him crazy." He laughed softly and squeezed my shoulder. The gesture reminded me of Sean, kind of an unemotional hug. Huntington was never easy to read, but it was minutely possible a tiny glint of regret flicked in his blue eyes. I wasn't certain how I felt about that, but he cleared it up with his next comment.

  He stepped back, smiled and said, "Amy and Dan made it to the hospital. I won't tell you where they are, but he's stable."

  Huntington was drop-dead gorgeous, but he had never pretended to trust me--with information or input even though he was paying for that input. His off-and-on attention span where I was concerned made me feel like second place or maybe even third, but never first. There was no doubt he would make a wonderful catch, but where Mark left me breathless, Huntington usually left me thoroughly annoyed. "Of course you won't tell me," I said.

  Huntington wrinkled his brow. "Why would you need to know?"

  "Never mind. Please let me know if you hear any more news, would you? I'm going to call and check on Pooh and Rabbit again. I know Rabbit made it through okay, but that poor little dog."

  Huntington nodded. "I took care of the vet bill. Rabbit and Pooh are with the neighbors."

  Despite all of his annoying qualities, he was a responsible and good-hearted person. I was grateful for that because the neighbors might not have been able to pay the vet bill, and it simply wouldn't be fair if Rabbit hadn't gotten the best treatment possible. "Poor thing."