The first name she saw on the list was Richard Summers.
“He was brought in by ambulance around midnight,” the shift director told her. “He fell at home, has a possible concussion, and re-injured his knee, some old injury. He’ll be moved upstairs when they have a room ready for him. They’re keeping him for observation. His brother signed him in but he apparently didn’t know what happened. We’re waiting for his regular doctor, Hoadley, to come in.” She looked more closely at Laura. “Friend of yours?”
Laura shook her head. “I barely know him. He’s a good friend of my cousin.”
“He’s a Phys Ed teacher out at Valley High School, right? One of the coaches? My brother’s mentioned him.”
“He was until he had a car accident last winter.” Laura glanced around. “Number three? I’ll look in on him, see if he recognizes me.”
“Check his vitals. Maybe he’s awake enough now to answer some questions. He’s been pretty much out of it.”
She scrubbed and found the cart with the blood pressure monitor.
Rich was lying on his back with his eyes closed, an IV tube connected to one arm. A slightly bloody gauze bandage covered one side of his head and his face was ashy. When Laura stepped closer, he opened his eyes and looked blankly at her.
She sighed inwardly, smiled, and asked, “Rich Summers? Do you remember me?”
“Do I know you?” His voice was weak.
“Laura Boutelle. Pete Randall is my cousin.”
He closed his eyes.
“I need to check your blood pressure.” She attached the cuff to his arm. “You were in the class ahead of me in high school,” she said conversationally. “We both belonged to the Photography Club. I guess you don’t remember me. I was there only one semester.”
He didn’t answer, and she went on with her checks, his temperature and pulse, the IV drip. She hadn’t stayed in that club very long. Printing pictures had not held her interest and she had switched to drawing. He probably has no reason to remember me.
As she was putting her implements back into the cart he asked, “Do you know how I got here? When?”
“They said an ambulance brought you in around midnight and your brother signed the papers.”
“My brother?”
She wondered why he sounded frightened. “That’s what they said.”
“What happens to me now?”
“You are to be admitted to the hospital for observation of the possible concussion. They’re getting a room ready.” She looked down at him. “Are you in any pain?”
He raised his hand and cautiously felt the bandage. “What happened?”
“You’ll have to tell us. You hit your head on something.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Not surprising. The notes say you were quite intoxicated.”
He grimaced.
A man came into the unit and stopped to talk to the head nurse. Laura thought he looked familiar but could not recall a name. She stepped back as he approached.
He stopped beside the bed. “Rich? You okay?”
Rich opened his eyes. “Ken.”
“Yeah. I talked with Dr. Hoadley a few minutes ago. He’ll be along in a while, says you have be evaluated, make sure you don’t have a concussion, see your orthopedist, maybe go back into rehab.”
Rich closed his eyes. “Mother? What did you tell her?”
“I didn’t have much to tell. Susan didn’t see it happen.”
“Susan?”
“Randall. She called me from your apartment. Dad’s not home. Up north on a business trip.”
Rich kept his eyes closed.
“Mother said she’d keep this quiet until we know more. I’ll come around again this afternoon, after you’re settled somewhere.” He nodded at Laura. “I’ll get out of your way now that I see how he is.”
“You can stay if you want to and talk to the doctor when he comes.”
“No. I have to get home. I’ll check back later.”
She watched him stride out and turned back to Rich. His face had regained a faint flush of pink. “Could I have a drink of water?”
“Sure.” She brought the cup with a straw and steadied him while he sipped at it. “Just lie back and rest.”
Other patients came into the unit and she left to see to them. She saw Dr. Hoadley come in, but she was involved with a young mother and a sick child and getting them settled in a waiting space.
The doctor left Rich’s room, spoke a moment with the head nurse, and left.
An elderly woman came in, assisted by a nurse. Laura had paperwork to take care of.
Two orderlies came in with a gurney and were directed to Rich’s cubicle. She could see them getting him onto it, covering him with a blanket, and adjusting his IV stand. As they came out, she stepped closer and put a hand on Rich’s arm.
“I’ll come up when my shift ends,” she told him. “See how you’re doing.”
He smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
Laura watched them leave and went back to her other duties. She thought about Rich off and on between the emergencies, mostly small and easily handled, that passed through the ER. She recalled him from high school a usually quiet studious boy, involved in sports of all kinds with her cousin Pete. He was never in any particular trouble, did not have a steady girlfriend, but dated some of her friends occasionally. He had gone to one of the state colleges, earned a teaching degree associated with physical education, and she had not seen him since.
When her twelve-hour shift ended, the last of the three she would work this week, Laura was exhausted but, as she had promised, she went to find where Rich had been taken. He was propped in his bed, connected to an IV and two other monitors, and leafing through a magazine. He looked up at her as she came in and smiled.
She stopped beside him. “You’re looking a lot better.”
“At least I can think straight again.” He put the magazine aside. “But I still don’t know what happened. It’s all a blank.”
“Not surprising.”
“But I do remember you. You did some neat pictures of sand dunes and shadows. You were dating Jack something-or-other.”
“Jones. I haven’t seen him since graduation.”
“Neither have I.” He smiled at her. “It’s nice to see a familiar face.”
She was surprised at the pleasure that brought. Until now, she had totally forgotten what pictures she had developed and the trip to Cape Cod with her parents where she had taken them. “That shows everything will be all right again, your memory will come back.”
“Will it?”
The sadness in his voice caught at her. “Of course it will. Have they looked at your knee?”
“No. Have to wait for the orthopedist in the morning. They apparently don’t do Sundays.”
She studied all his monitors, saw nothing unusual. “Will you be here long?”
He shook his head. “I can leave tomorrow unless somebody finds something in the morning when the techs are back.”
“Do you have someone to help you at home? I mean, your knee . . .”
“My brother’s arranging for some kind of home assistance for a while. And I’ll be going to rehab a couple of times of week.”
She could think of nothing to say, surprised that he had told her that much. Maybe he just needs somebody to talk to. “That should help.”
“He was here around noon.”
She assumed he meant his brother, but didn’t ask.
Rich asked hesitantly, keeping his gaze on his hands. “Who else knows I’m here?”
“I have no idea. Wouldn’t your brother . . .?”
“I didn’t know who the hospital might contact. My family is pretty well known.”
“They can’t contact anyone without your permission.” A visible wave of relief crossed his face, again making her wonder what had happened. “It would be up to your brother to leave a list of people and I guess he didn’t. I didn’t see anything on your chart.”
A nurse came into the room with a small tray of medications. “A friend of yours, Laura?”
“We’ve known each other since high school.” She faced Rich again. “If you’re going home in the morning, I won’t see you here again.”
He met her eyes for a moment. “Could I call you?”
She heard the sadness in his voice again, maybe a touch of desperation. “Sure.” She found a paper in her pocket and wrote her cell number on it. “Anytime. I’m off until Wednesday, then I’ll be working four days.”
He closed his fingers around the paper and accepted the tiny paper cup with a pill in it without moving his eyes from hers. “Thanks. Thanks for coming up. I guess I was lonely.”
“No need for that.”
He didn’t answer, took the cup of water the nurse handed him and swallowed the pill. He glanced her way and smiled crookedly.
“Have a good night, Rich.”
“I’ll try. Thanks.”
She left, fatigue creeping into her bones, but there was also a warm feeling, a sense of a return to the past, although she did not recall having had any particular feelings for Richard Summers back then. I’m just tired. He was always nice and friendly. I’ll think about this tomorrow, after I get some sleep.
As she reached her car she thought a moment about Susan and her infatuation with Rich’s stepbrother. Maybe I could help her out a little. Laura laughed at herself and drove home.
16.
Susan Randall slept late and missed going to church, so it was almost noon before she could call her brother and tell him what had happened. Her head was clear again and her stomach no longer queasy. She wished it had all been a bad dream, but she knew it wasn’t. Except that I did meet Ken Weston.
Pete swore more eloquently than he usually did. “I knew I should have stayed. I could see what was going on and it made me mad. I was afraid I would say something I’d regret. How bad is he hurt?”
“I don’t know. Ken said he’d call me when he had some news, but he hasn’t yet. He brought me home and then went to the hospital.”
Pete exhaled a long breath. “I’ll go around this morning and see if Rich is still there. I need to apologize. If he isn’t there, I’ll find out where he is.”
“Good. And say hi for me, too. See if there’s anything I can do for him.”
“I’ll do that and call you later.”
She didn’t know what else she could do. She stood perplexed and debating, wondering if she should make a sandwich or something for lunch, and then her cell phone jangled.
“Susan Randall?” a man’s voice asked.
She caught her breath. “Ken? Yes. How is Rich? Is he all right?”
“He will be, has to take it easy for a few days. They admitted him to the hospital for observation, to see if he has a concussion.”
“Oh.” She could think of nothing to say.
There was a long pause. “Could I come by, pick you up?” He sounded hesitant, maybe unsure. “Go for coffee or something, someplace where we can talk? I need to thank you for all you did.”
Her heart skipped two beats and she almost couldn’t answer. “That isn’t necessary, but, if you want to, I haven’t had lunch yet.” Is that inviting myself? Will I really get to go with him?
“In half an hour?”
“I’ll be ready.”
She debated what to wear, how to look her best and make an impression—to offset that one from last night—but decided, reluctantly, casual was best. She wrote a note for her parents saying she had gone to lunch with a friend and would be home later. She was ready when Ken arrived, anticipating she wasn’t sure what.
He seemed to be distraught, his eyes heavy with smudges under them.
“Has something else happened to Rich?” she asked. “You look upset.”
He shook his head. “It was a long night. I didn’t get much sleep and went to the hospital a little after eight to see what was going on. His mother’s worried about him and can’t go herself.” He released a long breath. “I just need another cup of good coffee.” He held the car door for her. “Brunch at the diner okay?”
“That’s fine. I haven’t had my second cup, either.”
The Corner Diner was only half-full of patrons and he chose a seat away from the windows. The waitress brought coffee.
He studied the menu. “I’ll stop and talk to Rich again on my way home, see if he’s a little more with it than he was. He was still not awake when I saw him.”
“Good. He must be feeling better.” She sipped at her coffee. What can I say? How do I talk to him? She remembered something Pete had said. “You don’t see Rich very often?”
“I hadn’t seen him since he left rehab. He didn’t come back home after that.”
Why? But how do I ask without sounding nosy?
“I think he was planning on moving out anyway, getting his own place. He said it was time for him to be independent. It would be easier for him to do lesson plans and such. Maybe live closer to where he was teaching.”
She had the impression that he was hedging. “That does make sense.”
The waitress came back. Susan ordered waffles and bacon.
Ken met her eyes and she was surprised by the sadness there. “Until you called me, we didn’t even know where he was living. Thank you for that. Now I can contact him, make sure he doesn’t need any help.”
“Your name, your father’s name, was the only one I could think of.” She felt her face flush. “I guess I had a little too much to drink, too. I usually don’t since even one can make me sick.” She needed to explain that. It was important that he know she wasn’t really like that.
“Things weren’t going well? At this party of his? The place was a mess when I got there, when the ambulance came.”
She understood he wanted to know more and she could tell him so very little. “I guess he and Gina had some kind of argument and she left with Tex. Before he fell and hit his head. Pete and Julie left before that.”
“I don’t know any of those people. Could you . . .?”
“You know my brother?”
He nodded. “I’ve met him, watched him and Rich play a couple of times.”
“Julie Harris is his fiancée. They have an apartment on the other side of town, over near the ballpark. Tex—I don’t know his real name—is Rich’s roommate.” She couldn’t meet Ken’s steady gaze. “I don’t know who Gina is, but I guess she’s Rich’s girlfriend. Was anyway.”
He waited while his omelet was put in front of him. “So you don’t know Rich very well?”
“I’ve known him forever, but just as Pete’s best friend. He always treated me like a little sister.”
She wondered at his sudden intake of breath, why his face colored slightly.
Hesitantly, he asked, “Do you have a . . . steady . . .?”
“No.”
“Then, I can ask if you’ll go out with me? Dinner and a movie?”
She caught her breath. “Sure. If you want to.”
“I owe you that much.”
She bristled. “You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want payment for doing what I had to do. For an injured friend.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m thinking of myself, what you’ve done for me.”
She met his eyes, again saw sadness there and it tore at her heart. “I’d be happy to go out with you.”
“Friday night? I have a long workweek coming up.”
“That sounds okay. My work doesn’t keep me overtime.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a hairdresser.” She laughed. “Independent salon specialist with my own booth. Latest fashion, color, style, whatever you want. Great fun.” She smiled at him. “I know what you do. Vice president of your father’s construction company.”
“That’s me.”
She wondered at the hard note in his voice, but didn’t ask.
He pushed his half-empty plate away. “And I have to get back to it. My father was gone yesterday afternoon and last night but he should be home by now.”
She finished the last of her waffle. “How will he react to Rich’s accident?”
“Rich would rather we didn’t tell him about it just yet.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a long story, Susan. Maybe this week I can figure out a way to tell you. Or maybe another week?”
Her heart accepted that as a promise of a future. “There are lots of long sad and funny, stories. My clients tell me all of their troubles.”
“That’s what I’ve heard hairdressers are for, like bar tenders.” He pushed his chair back. “Can I give you a call later? By Thursday I’ll know my schedule.”
“Sure. Right now I have nothing planned.” And I won’t plan anything.
He was mostly silent on the drive back to her home. He got out, walked around, and opened the car door for her. “And thank you again. For everything.”
She took his offered hand, returned his hesitant smile, and stood on the sidewalk watching him drive away. In person, up close, he was all that she had imagined. And he’s invited me out to dinner!
Her heart would feed on that all week.
17.
That evening, Rich Summers relaxed against his pillow when Laura had gone. If he lay perfectly still, he didn’t hurt anywhere. The pain medication was beginning to make his thinking a little fuzzy and he would soon fall asleep. He turned off the bed light and closed his eyes, trying to sort out what had happened and to recall his conversations with his three visitors. His memory was still blank where his fall was concerned and no one had been able to tell him anything. Ken said no one had been there but Susan. But why was she still there if Pete and Julie had gone? Why can’t I remember what happened? Not remembering was annoying, a little frightening. What did happen?
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