Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  Dawn looked at the nurse and smiled apologetically. “Believe it or not, this is good,” she said, referring to Ben’s temperament.

  “Easy for you to say.” The nurse chuckled.

  Tom and Dawn went for a cup of coffee, waited for word, and were allowed back in around five-thirty. Ben was in a somewhat better mood, but tired easily. He listened to what Tom had to report, nodded, and closed his eyes.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Dawn said, and Ben looked at her, thinking they’d just arrived.

  “The man died,” he said. “Next to me. He died.”

  Dawn nodded, tears clouding her vision. “I’m going to ride out and see Beau in the morning. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He shook Tom’s hand then, and Tom walked out and headed straight for the elevator.

  “Tom! Tom!” Dawn grabbed him by the arm.

  He pressed the button and looked at her. “I can’t handle this. All right?”

  “All right. I can’t either, but...”

  Tom banged the elevator button harder, stared and then looked at her again. “He’s not going to pull through, is he?”

  “Yes,” Dawn said. “He is. Dr. Martin said it’s natural to go through this. It’s just a phase.”

  Tom shook his head. “Fine. When he gets better, I’ll come back. Meanwhile, I’m outta here. I’m gonna go get laid. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Dawn paused, then laughed. “If that’s what it takes.”

  Tom stepped back, ran his fingers through his hair, sighed, and leaned against the wall. “You want to go get something to eat?”

  Dawn nodded, and straightened the fold on his collar. “Sure. I wouldn’t want you out on the prowl on an empty stomach.”

  Dr. Martin walked down the hall as she and Tom boarded the elevator, and wished he hadn’t missed her.

  Randy arrived a few minutes later and was allowed a short visit. Dr. Martin glanced up at him as he approached the bed. “Hi there.”

  Randy smiled, nodded, and looked at Ben. “How are you doing?”

  “Finnnee,” Ben said.

  Dr. Martin agreed, and in saying so, stepped closer to Randy and scrunched up his nose.

  “Horse shit,” Randy said, explaining. “It’s been one of those days.”

  Dr. Martin laughed, made a notation on Ben’s chart, and left them alone. Ben was glad to see him and had something he wanted to say.

  “Take care of Dawn.”

  Randy shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Just take care of her. Please?” Ben drawled.

  Randy nodded.

  Ben dozed then, just that little bit of talking had drained him completely. It was difficult thinking, but sometimes if he closed his eyes, everything became clearer. “I’ll see you later, Randy,” he said.

  “What did you say, Mr. Miller?” his nurse asked.

  He looked at her, Randy was gone. He’d actually been gone for some time. “Nothing,” he said, and drifted again. He didn’t know if it was night or day, it didn’t matter one way or the other. “Nothing matters,” he said, unable to feel the passing of his own urine. I’m just laying here, and can’t even spit. There’s probably a machine that can do that for me too. Meg, I’m glad you’re not alive to see me now. I can’t piss on my own again. I can’t do anything. Move your legs I tell myself. Move your legs. And I just lay here. I just lay here.

  “Ben...” Gloria hovered over him. “Ben, what is it? Are you in pain?”

  Ben opened his eyes and stared at her through the blur of tears. “This is no good. I don’t want this.”

  Gloria cupped his hand in hers. “Ben, you’re going to be just fine.”

  Ben shook his head, and looked at Charlie. “I’m sorry,” he said, when he saw his best friend standing there in tears as well. “It’s going to be just you now.”

  “Oh no,” Charlie said. “They’re going to be getting you up and around any day now.”

  “That’s right,” Gloria emphasized. “So none of this talk now. You hear?”

  Ben nodded and wiped at his eyes with his good hand, laden with an IV, two identification bracelets and a finger monitor that looked like a clothespin. “What time is it?”

  “He’s always asking that,” one of the nurses said, snickering as if it were the most ridiculous question she’d ever heard.

  Ben asked again. “What time is it?”

  “Seven-fifteen,” Gloria said. “I’ll bring you a clock tomorrow.” She scowled at the nurse. “This way you can remind the nurses when their shift ends.”

  Ben laughed, actually laughed, and when they’d gone, lay there enveloped in the aftermath of lilac cologne. He laughed again, to himself this time, and started remembering. The tack room, he’d gone in there to sit down a minute, to catch his breath. He started coughing then and thought he was coming down with a cold. Pneumonia maybe, because his chest hurt. Then that godawful smell of lilac, enough to take his breath away, but with the effect of smelling salts.

  “Ben...”

  “Ben...”

  “What?” He opened his eyes.

  “How about a little broth?”

  “Broth?”

  “It’s time,” the nurse said. “We’ve got to get you back on your feet.”

  Randy just missed Dawn at her apartment, according to her note. She’d spent part of the afternoon with Ginney at her trial-briefing, ate Chinese, and had left an extra dinner waiting for him on the kitchen counter if he wanted it, and she’d see him later. He shook his head. Why couldn’t she have waited just a few more minutes? What was the big hurry? It’s not like there were regular visiting hours in ICU. Damn her.

  As luck would have it, at the hospital, they missed each other again. Apparently she’d just left. But he had a nice visit with Ben, was able to stay with him a little more than ten minutes, and ran into Dr. Martin in the hall.

  “Well, hello there.”

  Randy smiled, they shook hands, and since both were going to the elevator, they walked along together, discussing Ben’s condition.

  “He’s doing well. I’m quite pleased,” Dr. Martin said. “A little progress every day is all we can ask for.” Randy nodded, the elevator opened, and they boarded. “The family visiting often has been good for him.”

  Randy nodded again.

  “How about animals?” Dr. Martin asked. “Does it matter?”

  Randy shrugged. “Cats and dogs mainly, yes. Although in some cases...”

  Dr. Martin smiled. Some families had adverse effects on humans as well. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case here,” he said, fishing. “Particularly when it comes to Dawn.”

  Randy stiffened. “Dawn?”

  “Yes.” When the elevator stopped on the second floor and the door opened, Dr. Martin hesitated getting off. “Tell me, I know she’s not his daughter, but...”

  Randy looked at the man.

  “Perhaps a daughter-in-law? Married to the cowboy?”

  Randy shook his head. “No. They’re just friends.”

  Dr. Martin smiled, grinned actually, and got off and looked back. “So she’s unattached?”

  What’s with this guy? Randy’s eyes hardened. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her that.”

  “Thank you, I will,” Dr. Martin said, still smiling as the doors closed.

  Randy stared, and got off at the first floor, shaking his head. The son of a bitch. Why the interest in Dawn? Well, actually why not? But why? He walked to the pay phone thinking about her. Did she appear unattached? Was it in her eyes? Her manner? Bad enough he felt so insecure about their relationship, particularly since she hadn’t had one minute for him in the last couple of days, regardless of the reason.

  He let the phone ring at least ten times, hung up, and walked out to his truck. If she’s not home, where is she? Unattached? Why didn’t he just say, yeah, she’s attached. She belongs to me, okay?

  Why? He berated himself. Because she doesn’t belong to you, that’s why. And no one k
nows that more than you. He wanted to drive to her apartment, forgetting all this, be there when she got home, from wherever she was, and make love to her. His heart ached, literally ached, and it scared him. She doesn’t belong to you. It’s just a matter of time. He thought about her novel, his part in it, and since she wasn’t home, considered going to her apartment and reading it until she got there, ask her once and for all and insist she tell him the truth. Instead, he started the truck and drove home. If she missed him and phoned him, then it would be a different thing.

  Dawn meanwhile, arrived home, expected Randy at any minute, and after an hour or so, became concerned. She didn’t think he was on call tonight, but perhaps she was mistaken. She phoned his answering service to be sure, and was right initially.

  “Thank you,” she said, and hung up. So where is he? Maybe he stopped at the hospital, she decided, appeased for the moment. But as time wore on, she found herself worrying and wondering again. Where could he be?

  She phoned his answering service a second time, left a message for him, and really started to get concerned. Even if he’d swung by the hospital, he would have been here by now. The hospital. What if Ben’s condition had worsened? What if...?

  She looked up the number, was patched through to the nurses’ station, and was informed Ben was asleep and hadn’t had any recent visitors. She thanked the woman and hung up.

  “I’ll give him fifteen more minutes,” she said. Then she was going to panic, because obviously something has happened to him. If not, he would have called.

  She heard from him about half an hour later.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m home. Why? Where were you?”

  Dawn paused. He sounded different. “I was at the hospital, then Tom and I went and got something to eat. I thought you might show up at The Rib, but you didn’t, so I left.”

  “I thought you had Chinese.”

  “I did, earlier.” She paused again, trying to figure out his attitude. “What are you doing at home?”

  “Oh...” Randy slurped a long drink of beer. “Sitting on my patio. Which reminds me. What’s the difference between a patio and a terrace?”

  Dawn laughed a little. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “Are you all right? Have you had dinner?”

  Randy nodded, as if he could see her, and gazed at the pink stains on his fingertips. “I had some pistachio nuts. A lot of them I guess. Hold on, I’m going to get my dictionary.”

  “Randy...?” Too late, he’d put down the phone, and came back on.

  “All right, we’ll do this alphabetically. Patio first.”

  Dawn shook her head and laughed.

  “Patio, an inner court open to the sky, a recreation area that adjoins a dwelling. Hmph.” He leafed ahead to find terrace. “Terrace, a flat roof or open platform, balcony or deck. Wait a minute, that’s no difference? What’s the difference? What if I lived on the second floor?” He stared above his head. “His is the same as mine.”

  Dawn went for her own dictionary. “It’s all in the interpretation.”

  “Uh huh,” Randy said. “I see. Interpretation.” He flipped the pages but Dawn beat him to it.

  “To understand according to individual belief.”

  Randy took another swig of beer and looked around for the rest of the six pack. He was down to one can. “Well now,” he said, “here’s something to contemplate.” He lined up the empty beer cans on the patio table next to him, made sure they all faced the same way, and thought about his college days. “At this rate, I could very well be drunk. Or at this point in my life, would that be intoxicated?”

  “Intoxicated,” Dawn said, and read the definition. “To make drunk, to excite or elate.”

  “Well then that’s it, I’m drunk,” Randy said. “Because I’m not having a good time.”

  Dawn put her dictionary away, a tremendous wave of depression washing over her. “Why didn’t you come over, Randy?”

  “Why weren’t you home?” he said.

  Dawn picked up the shirt he’d had on yesterday, which he left flung over the side of the couch, and covered her legs with it. “I had to go see Uncle Matt.”

  “Oh really? And how is old Don Corlione?”

  Dawn tensed.

  “I know,” Randy said, popping the tab on his last beer. “Some day you’ll tell me.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “No, wait a minute...here’s a good one. Listen to this. Your name means to ‘begin to be understood.’”

  Dawn sighed. What on earth brought all this on? “My name means nothing, Randy,” she said. “It’s just a name.” Click.

  Randy stared at the phone. “Well, you bitch.” He dialed her number right back, but it was busy. He couldn’t believe it. “She hung up on me,” he said out loud, as if there were someone around to hear him. “She hung up on me.”

  He downed the rest of his beer and just sat there for a moment, doing a slow burn, then dialed her number again. No answer. “Goddamn her. Who does she think she is?”

  “Dawn Fioritto,” he could hear her saying. “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing,” he said, and went in and crashed on the couch, where over the next few hours he dreamt one bizarre dream after another. He didn’t know his own name in one, and kept asking everyone what it was. In another, he saw Dawn and Dr. Martin traveling in a covered wagon across the desert. Dawn was wearing a fur coat and Dr. Martin a white jumpsuit with huge bellbottoms. He was whipping the horse, and Randy was summoned to heal the animal, but the horse was dead. As Randy reached to pet the horse’s neck, it turned into a sow, a large sow. And he woke up.

  He thought of calling Dawn, but it was almost morning. Besides, he felt like he was going to be sick, decided to stay put, hoping the nausea would pass, and fell back asleep.

  Randy avoided the Miller barn until he finished the morning rounds, having taken that long to muster up the courage to apologize to Dawn.

  “She just left to go over to the hospital,” Tom said.

  Randy nodded, a bit relieved since he still didn’t know what he was going to say, and feeling really foolish for his behavior. “Do you guys have anything in?”

  “Two,” Tom said.

  “All right, I’ll see you later. Tell Dawn I was by.” He walked toward his truck, stopped, and looked back. “What kind of mood was she in?”

  “Okay, I guess,” Tom said, shrugging. They’d been pretty busy all morning. “Why?”

  “No reason,” Randy said, and left. Couldn’t she at least have been a little depressed? He passed Ginney between barns, backed up his truck and called to her. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

  Ginney walked over to talk to him. “Probably hanging around here. Why? What’s up?”

  “I could use your right hand.”

  Ginney laughed. “Aren’t you a little past that stage?”

  “Yeah,” Randy said, laughing as well. “What I need is some help.” He and Raffin agreed they both needed assistants, but with their trying to buy Jake’s practice, they couldn’t afford any right now.

  Ginney hesitated. “Does Dawn know you’re asking?”

  “No, but she has two horses in and couldn’t help anyway.”

  Ginney shook her head. “I don’t want her mad at me.”

  “Why would she be mad? Come on, I’m not asking you to go screw. I just need some help. Come on.”

  Ginney stared in the direction of the Miller barn, gave it some thought, and finally relented. “All right. But if she fucking gets mad at me, I’m not ever gonna talk to you again. Okay?”

  Randy smiled. “Okay. But trust me, she’s not going to get mad.”

  Son of Royalty finished second, and Branden a distant fourth. Both horses came back fine, cooled out well, were done up. And Tom and Dawn fed.

  “Did you and Randy have a fight?” Tom asked, right out of the blue when they were locking up.

  “No, not really.”<
br />
  Tom looked at her.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He said something funny earlier.”

  “When?”

  The two of them walked to the parking lot. “When he stopped by.”

  Dawn kept her reaction from showing, though she certainly would like to have been informed of this earlier, and changed the subject. “Do you know anything about Ben’s hospitalization? Which plan he has.”

  Tom shook his head. “You want me to find out?”

  “No, I’ll do it. I’ll see you at the hospital.”

  Randy and Ginney returned shortly thereafter, pulled in next to Ginney’s car in the parking lot, and sat talking a minute. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” Randy said. “I owe you.”

  “No, that’s okay. It was fun.” Ginney glanced around. “Dawn’s car’s gone. She’s probably at the hospital.”

  Randy nodded. Probably. He paused. “Do you and she ever talk?”

  Ginney looked at him. “Yeah, asshole. Lots of times.”

  Randy laughed. That’s not what he’d meant. “I mean really talk?”

  “You mean about you?”

  Randy shrugged. “That, and about herself.”

  “No.” Ginney thought back to the morning Dawn found her in the ladies room, remembered her compassion and understanding of what had taken place, and felt sure that Dawn must have gone through the same thing at one time. “I’ll tell you what, if you wanna talk about owing somebody, I owe her. If it wasn’t for her.” She turned, getting choked up, and stared out the window for a moment. “She’s going to the trial with me, you know.”

  “I know.” Randy looked at her, studied her expression. “Most women would shy away from something like that, don’t you think?”

  Ginney smiled. “Dawn’s not most women.”

  Randy nodded. “You got that right.”

  Ginney got out and looked back in at him. “I’m warning you, Randy. If she gets mad at me, I’m going to hate you.”

  Randy smiled. “She won’t. She won’t even care.” He thought about going to the hospital, but had a message at the stable gate to phone Raffin. His assistance was needed in surgery. He’d go to Dawn’s apartment when he was done and apologize, he told himself. There was no sense phoning her; he knew she wouldn’t be home. So it would have to be later.