I sneered. “Take that, Mom and Dad. I’m here. I’m staking my claim, and I’m not a waste of time and space. Boo-ya!”
With that small act of rebellion under my belt (more accurately under the elastic on my panties), I felt a lot better. Tougher. Shifting gears from victim to victor, I moved into “bring it on” mode.
The admitting doctor stopped by to examine me. “I’d like to keep you one more day.”
“Please let me go home.”
“Head injuries are unpredictable. I really want us to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t have insurance.”
“I’ll fill out the discharge papers. You can go first thing tomorrow morning. One more night won’t make that much difference money-wise. We can watch you for another twelve hours to be sure you don’t have a more serious injury than we think you have.”
Finally, my lack of insurance worked in my favor!
Ned dropped by fifteen minutes later.
“Gosh, you work long hours,” I said.
“Three twelve-hour shifts in a row. Actually, I prefer it this way. I usually see patients come in, work with them, and get to see them released. Also, the drive here doesn’t take up so much of my workday when I’m here on long shifts.”
“Where do you live?”
“Webster Groves.”
“Me, too!” That got us talking about our wonderful and eclectic neighborhood. Both of us had a special love for Winston, the stone statue of a dragon who guarded the local library. By the end of the conversation, Ned had promised to drop into Time in a Bottle, the scrapbook store where I worked, so we could go out for coffee.
“Thank you for calling Rabbi Sarah.”
“Was she a help?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Now, time for beddy-bye, little girl. Let me help you to the bathroom, and then I’ll tuck you in.”
On one hand, it seemed absurd, me being a grown woman and this hulk of a man treating me like a child. On the other, I’ve never had a loving dad, and Ned’s gentle care touched a sore spot deep inside me.
“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he said.
I smiled to myself. How many nights had I told my daughter the same silly thing?
“Are there bedbugs here?” I wondered out loud.
“Nope. Only in finer hotels in New York City. They don’t wander out here to the boonies. Now get some sleep.” With that, he turned off the light, and I nodded off immediately.
seven
Wednesday, Day 2—after the shooting
The next morning after breakfast, Detweiler arrived. It was the first time I’d seen him since the shooting. “Hey, babe. How are you?” The lanky detective had the good sense to look uncomfortable.
Now that I was safe, I could give full rein to my anger. After all, the stupid idea for me to entrap Bill Ballard had been fully approved by Detweiler, who, along with Robbie, had assured me I’d never be in any danger at all.
“How am I? I am not happy with you, pal. Not at all.”
Every muscle in my body was rigid with the force of my dismay. It even surprised me that I was still so angry. Okay, more hurt than angry. Disappointed, too. I’d thought at last I’d found someone to protect me in this life, and it seemed to me that he’d failed.
As quickly as I thought that, I also recognized how irrational and unfair I was being. My father had never been protective. Rather, he had been predatory, and my mother had stood idly by, grateful that he targeted us, not her.
Was I really expecting Detweiler to change my past? That was impossible, and no one knew that better than I.
He sighed. “This whole mess is my fault. I should never have let Robbie and Johnny involve you. I take responsibility for our collective stupidity. All I can say in my defense is that I wanted us to have a fresh start. I wanted all the remnants of your former life, and mine, to disappear. Except for Anya, of course,” and he took a shuddering breath before continuing. “She’s wonderful and I adore her.”
“That’s what I wanted, too.” Hearing him restate his goals, and recognizing how in sync we were, further dissolved my anger. A long time ago, I learned that a person’s intention is what matters, not the outcome. We can’t control outcome. You can do your best, but there will always be circumstances you can’t plan for. That doesn’t mean you did the wrong thing. It’s just how life works.
“I withheld information from you, and that wasn’t fair.”
My head jerked up and I met his eyes. The gorgeous green-gold irises had dimmed a watt. “See, at the station we learned about other, um, situations that Ballard had been involved in, and that scared me. For you. For Anya. So, when Johnny and Robbie came to me with a plan, I went along with it. Probably too quickly.”
“What had he done?”
“You don’t want to know. Trust me. He was escalating. You were in danger.”
“So, you were worried about me? About us?”
He nodded slowly. “Absolutely. I screwed up, and I hope you can forgive me.”
He stared at his feet and I stared at mine. Our toes had nothing to say, but we listened intently as though they could talk.
Detweiler sighed and went on. “As for letting Brenda dupe me, I was too eager to be rid of her. She’d promised to sign the papers and trust me to hold on to them, undated, until she got out of rehab. Even when she attacked you in the restaurant, I wanted to believe that once she was in rehab this time, she’d see how crazy her actions were. I didn’t want to feel guilty about her. I wanted to move on, and as long as she was running around acting like a whack job, there’d be the chance we’d bump into her. I hated that. I hated the fact that her father held the deed to my parents’ farm.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “Pardon?”
“I thought you knew. See, my sister Patty and her husband Paul were underwater on their mortgage when he lost his job at the auto plant. The pressure was destroying their marriage. They got involved in an investment scheme that took all their savings. So Dad and Mom decided to take out a second mortgage on the farm and loan Patty and Paul some money. The bank wouldn’t authorize a loan to my parents, but Brenda’s dad, Milton Kloss, is on the board and hears about all the foreclosures and so on. He came to Dad and Mom and offered them his personal guarantee on the loan. As collateral, he took the deed to the farm.”
This stunned me. The Detweiler farm was a Century Farm, a designation given only to those farms that have been in the same family for one hundred years. I couldn’t imagine the Detweilers losing their property.
So the Detweilers were beholden to Brenda’s father! This admission knocked the wind out of me. I literally could not catch my breath. Stars danced before my eyes, and the room spun.
“Nurse!” Detweiler yelled. “Kiki? Honey? Breathe. Come on, stay with me.”
eight
Ned confirmed that I’d had a fainting spell, nothing more. In halting words, I explained that my fiancé had told me shocking news. Ned checked my vitals, stood there a few minutes, and pronounced me okay.
“Buddy, you’ve upset her. I’m thinking I should kick your butt out of here,” Ned snarled at Detweiler, getting right up in the detective’s face.
“He’s my ride.” I sighed. “And he told me something I needed to know. It’s not his fault. Not entirely.”
“Yeah, well, now I’m having second thoughts about discharging you. Especially if this turkey is going to be your caregiver.” Ned stuck a finger into Detweiler’s chest. “You’re doing a pathetic job of helping out so far, mister. Better clean up your act, fast. Now go pull your car up to the front entrance before I take a swing at you.”
I said to Detweiler. “I still want that shower before we go.”
“How about if I run down the street and bring you a decaffeinated iced coffee from Starbucks while you shower?”
“Make tha
t two,” said Ned with a grin.
Detweiler nodded at the nurse. He knew when he was licked.
As Ned helped me back into the bed, I noticed a skull and crossbones tattoo right above the black Swatch on his wrist. What a bizarre set of visual contradictions. Today puppies and kittens turned cartwheels in the bachelor-button-blue background of Ned’s scrubs, and a few inches lower a ghastly skull grinned at me.
“Tell me about your tattoo. I know they usually have a special meaning.” I pointed to his forearm as he dried it off after turning on the shower for me.
He laughed. “Remnants of another life. I belonged to a motorcycle pack.”
“What possessed you to become a nurse? I mean, that sure seems like a u-turn along life’s highway.”
His expression changed from jovial to bleak. “As I mentioned, I served in Iraq. I couldn’t hack it when I got out of the service. So I joined a motorcycle pack. That’s where I met Eleanor, and fell in love. We were going to get married, but then she was diagnosed with leukemia. I took care of her, but I couldn’t save her. After that, I wanted a way to make a difference, you know? Even though I couldn’t keep her from dying, I made her more comfortable. The hospice supervisor told me I had skills in this area. Besides after she died, I never wanted to see another Harley as long as I lived. Survivor guilt does funny things to you. It’s harder to remove than a tat.”
Ned slipped the pants and top that Amanda had sent with Detweiler onto hangers. “The steam will release the wrinkles. I’ll put these behind the door for you.”
When the water temp was right, he walked me to the bathroom. “There are railings here by the john and in the shower. After that fainting spell you had, I put a shower seat in there for you. I’ll stay right outside the door. Don’t hesitate to holler if you feel lightheaded. I promise I won’t look.”
Along with the hospital gown, I shed a lot of my negative emotions. The water moving down the drain took my anger with it. My late husband, George, and I had kept a lot from each other. Too much. When you think the other person isn’t strong enough for the truth, you underestimate your partner. You set a booby trap for your relationship, and no one wants to walk through an emotional minefield. Detweiler and I would be fine. He’d been married twice before. Brenda was his second wife. His first, Gina, had run off, leaving him a note that she didn’t want to live her life in a Podunk town in Illinois, married to a cop. As far as I knew, no one had heard from her after the divorce was issued.
I’d been married once.
Between us, we had three marriages. I vowed we would use our histories to be better spouses to each other.
As the water tap-tap-tapped on my back, I thought about how much I loved Chad Detweiler’s commitment to family. Brenda Detweiler and Bill Ballard had definitely put our new family at risk. Now Bill was gone, and Brenda would be thrown in jail as soon as she surfaced.
My skin startled to pucker like a prune. I turned off the shower, reluctantly, grabbed the handrail, and stepped out carefully.
“Okay in there?” Ned asked.
“Yep.”
Grabbing the sink, I steadied myself. The woman in the mirror sported a black and blue bruise on her temple, circles under her eyes, and a sad expression. Although Rabbi Sarah’s visit had gone a long way toward lifting my burden, I still had plenty to worry about. Telling my daughter I was pregnant would not be fun.
I could hardly wait.
Ugh.
nine
I wanted to see Sheila and Johnny before I left the hospital. That proved impossible. Sheila was asleep and Johnny was being examined.
“Here.” Ned handed me a phone number on a piece of paper. “That’s my personal cell phone. I’ll check on them both before I leave tonight. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll give you the real skinny.”
“Will Johnny survive?” I knew Sheila would, but Johnny’s condition had been up and down more times than the score at a basketball game. If he got well, Mert might forgive me. If he died, she probably wouldn’t ever speak to me again.
Ned shrugged. “The docs aren’t sure, but my gut tells me he’ll be fine.”
“Your gut?”
“When you’ve been in health care as long as I have, you develop a sixth sense. I can walk into a room where a guy’s vital signs are all good and tell you he’ll be dead by morning. That’s why it’s so important to have an RN with experience watching over you. A lot of hospitals try to cut costs by cutting back on their senior nursing staff and replacing us with fresh recruits right out of nursing school. There are talents you can’t begin to develop until you’ve worked in a hospital for years.”
“How often are you right?”
“Ninety-six-point-two percent of the time.” He grinned and his chin whiskers stuck out like a directional signal. “I keep a chart. When I get off duty here, I go home, fill out my chart, feed my cat Bruiser, and crack open a brewski. Pretty boring, huh?”
“Sounds perfect to me.” And I meant it. I wanted a return to normalcy. Boring is wonderful.
Ned escorted me to a wheelchair and made a low bow. “Your carriage awaits you, Cinderella. So does the handsome prince, right outside your door.”
Detweiler stood in the hallway. In his hands were two coffees from Starbucks. Ned took his, thanked Detweiler, and nodded to me. “Should I tell this big guy to take a hike? Up to you, Kiki. He better behave, or I’ll kick his butt out of here.”
Detweiler looked horrified. He wasn’t accustomed to being ordered around, but he knew that here in the hospital, Ned held all the power.
I giggled and reached for my drink. “Nah. I think he’d better stick around. My baby needs a daddy.”
“Every baby needs a daddy,” said Ned, in a conciliatory tone. “And a couple of uncles, too. I’ve taken a real shine to Ms. Lowenstein here. She’s got spunk, and I appreciate that in a woman.”
“So do I,” said Detweiler.
As Ned pushed me in the wheelchair, the two men engaged in a steady stream of chatter, about the weather, traffic, and the Cardinals’ chances with their new manager, Mike Matheny. Ned interspersed his running commentary with greetings to other hospital staff as we passed by.
When the hospital doors were in sight, Detweiler ran outside to pull up his car.
“He’s a good man, Kiki.” Ned smiled.
“You’ve got a Spidey sense about that, too?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. I had that sense long before I worked in a hospital. You don’t ride with a motorcycle pack without learning to read people. Heck, folks see you pull up on a Harley and they have their notions. Some good, some bad. You gotta read them if you want to stay alive.”
I sighed. “He is a good man. Does some boneheaded things, but he’s a good man.”
“That’s why we guys need ladies like you. To keep us from being total boneheads. It’s the nature of the beast, I’m afraid.”
Detweiler pulled the car up, slammed it into park, and raced around to open my door.
Ned helped me to my feet. Spontaneously, I gave the big male nurse a hug. “I am eternally grateful that you chose this as a career. You, more than anything or anyone else here, healed me.”
He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “My pleasure, darlin’. My pleasure. You call me if you need anything, hear?”
ten
Early May is a charming time to be in St. Louis. Young tree leaves shiver in their shocking green. House-proud residents line sidewalks and ring their homes in freshly planted tomato-red begonias, sunshine-yellow marigolds, eggplant-purple petunias, and storm-cloud-blue salvia. This spring was coolish, but that would change. On the ride home, Detweiler and I discussed telling Anya about the baby. We decided we should talk to her together, a choice that lightened the load on my shoulders. “After all, I’m equally responsible,” said Detweiler, “and happily so. I want her to know that I’m not going to run out on either of
you. If Anya’s upset, she should be upset with me as well as you. Why don’t you call the Moores and let them know we’re on the way?”
Instead, I text-messaged Jennifer Moore. She responded quickly with: Great! See you soon!
Detweiler looked over at me, his face serious. “How do you think Anya will react?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m bracing myself for the worst. It might be hard for her to give up being an only child.”
He parked in front of the Moore’s McMansion, and we walked hand-in-hand to the front door. Moving around reminded me that
I sported a number of bruises after my altercation with Brenda. My collapse onto the gravel after she shot me left me sore and stiff, but the pressure of Detweiler’s hand on mine was warm and reassuring.
“Try not to worry,” he said as he pressed the doorbell.
The polished walnut door flew open. Anya launched herself at Detweiler and me, nearly knocking us off the brick stoop.
“I’m going to be a big sister. I’m going to be a big sister,” she sang. “Hurrah! We’re pregnant! Whoopee! Can I name him, huh? Puh-lease?”
My mouth dropped open so wide you could have driven a dump truck down my throat.
After doing a genuine, certified “happy dance” there on the threshold, Anya hugged me tightly and gave me a huge kiss. “I am so, so happy!” she crowed. “Now I won’t be the only Lowenstein! Right?”
A shadow passed over Detweiler’s face, but he said nothing. A look went between us, signifying that we would discuss that particular issue later.
But Anya didn’t notice. “Can I be there when he’s born? Huh? That would be so, so cool!”
Behind her Nicci and Stevie Moore bounced up and down on their toes. They were cheering, “Hurrah! Wow! A baby!”
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