Blood Loss - A Magnolia Novel

by Ashley Fontainne

  “Mornin’! Guess it’s a good thing I came in early today, huh?” Cheryl teased. “Lil’ Colin is sleepin’ so much better now, which means so is his momma! I got here just in time to save this from boilin’ over. Where’s Ms. Ruth? Is she feelin’ bad or somethin’?”

  Dumping the tray full of broken dishes and ruined food into the garbage, Karina responded, “Boy, I sure am glad you’re here. I thought I’d be stuck trying to cook, which would be a disaster. Gram’s fine. She just had to leave in a hurry.”

  Watching Karina throw the items away, Cheryl asked, “What happened? Did one of the residents fall?”

  “No, Betty Dravis had some sort of episode earlier and had to go to the hospital. Gram rode with her in the ambulance. I’d taken breakfast up to Betty’s room and dropped the tray to catch her before she hit the floor.”

  Cheryl frowned. “What kind of episode do you mean? Like a faintin’ spell or seizure?”

  “My guess is heart attack. She quit breathing, so I had to give her CPR until the paramedics arrived.”

  “Oh my! I hate to hear that. Betty’s so sweet and reminds me of my mother. Another reason why I love workin’ with the elderly—once the silent generation passes, the world will be an unsophisticated and uncouth place.”

  Karina’s cell buzzed in her back pocket. Extracting it, she read the text from her mother requesting Betty’s HIPPA form. She let out a sigh of relief. If the hospital was asking for it, then it meant there was news to share. With a few clicks, she retrieved the document from the stored files of all residents and emailed it. She was glad Mom and Grampa were at the hospital because poor Gram would need them around for support.

  The thought of Betty passing away made her shudder. Gram would be devastated. How much more sorrow and grief could she withstand before her own body gave out? The thought caused a lump of tears to well up in her throat, which made Karina angry. She wasn’t a crier, yet during the past month, she’d been an emotional mess. She wondered if perhaps the bouts of strong emotions were some form of PTSD.

  “Ma’am, are you okay? You look a little green around the gills if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

  Wiping a straggler tear away, Karina nodded. “I’m just concerned about Betty. That’s all.”

  Setting down the wooden spoon on the counter, Cheryl walked over and touched Karina’s arm. “Mind if I get a little maternal?”

  “We’re all a family around here so of course not.”

  “I know what kind of woman you are, and I don’t mean just the tough one who saved a lot of people from certain death or the one forced to take the lives of others to save your own.”

  Cheryl paused, searching Karina’s face with the same intensity her own mother did at times. The probing stare made Karina feel like she was transparent. The comment brought a hint of anger to the surface. “And I’d do it again without hesitating. Those monsters deserved every bullet I shot into them.”

  “I agree. They certainly did. But you know what? I see past that mask of toughness. You’re here takin’ care of these lovely people because you’ve got a heart of gold and a passion for the elderly. I get that because I do too. Carin’ for these sweet souls, though, is only part of your problem.”

  Raising an inquisitive brow, Karina tried to inject a bit of humor into the conversation. “I have more than one?”

  “Yes, you do. What I also see is the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep and the paleness to your skin from runnin’ your body at full throttle every day. The slashes of reds and blacks in your paintin’s. I ain’t no art critic, and I certainly ain’t implyin’ they’re anythin’ but amazin’, but they’s also disturbin’. I actually thought they were leftovers from Jimmy—er, well, Caesar. Whatever the heck that man’s name was.”

  Karina’s jaw tightened at the mention of the Calvanio bastard. “Caesar ‘The Cat’ Calvanio, also known as Jimmy Calhoon, will never paint another piece of work again, steal anyone else’s identity, or sell their body parts.”

  “True…but that’s not my point.”

  “I get it. You mean my work looks like that of a serial killer. I’ve had worse criticisms.”

  “I hate to agree to such terminology but yes. Plus, the minute you moved in, you threw yourself into this job with more gusto and determination than I’ve ever seen in another. You ain’t dealt with a lot of messed-up things that landed in your lap recently because you ain’t given yourself time to! Every minute of your day is jam-packed with takin’ care of the residents here.”

  “It’s not like I’m the only one running around like a crazy person. Have you seen my mother? She’s just as overwhelmed with all this as I am.”

  “I have, but the major difference between the two of you is that she goes home every night. You stay here, which means you continue to work. Again, I get that and find it an admirable quality, but if you keep your sole focus on others, you’ll never have time to deal with the fires on the backburner in your own head…or keep that sexy man of yours. This is the South, remember? Men like their gals to dote on them now and again.”

  “What are you trying to tell me, Cheryl?” Karina fought off the urge to say something rude and nasty about doting on men.

  Sighing, Cheryl answered, “Let me share a little trick I learned after the first passin’ I witnessed here: you’ve got to stop. Ain’t no use in worryin’ about things you can’t change or fillin’ your brain with the false assumption your presence will somehow change the inevitable. We all die, ma’am. It’s the only thing in this world that’s one-hundred percent true and accurate. All of us have a last tick on our life-clocks. If today is Betty’s, then there ain’t diddly-squat you can do about it. If you get too attached, your heart too entangled in their lives, you’ll burn out before you ever had a chance to really sparkle.”

  Instead of crying at the heartfelt words, Karina forced a weak smile. “Yikes, when you get maternal, you go full throttle, huh? Your daughter’s a lucky woman.”

  Cheryl’s own smile was warm and comforting. “And your ma is too. Listen, when you’ve been around the block as many times as me, you learn things. Understand the way of the world and teach yourself how to grapple with the challenges. The lies. The deceit. The grief. Pardon me for steppin’ over the line of employer and employee, but it was on my heart and I felt the need to share.”

  “There certainly were a lot of lies and deceit here at The Magnolia, but that’s all gone now,” Karina added, letting a hint of pride seep into the words.

  Backing away, Cheryl returned to the stove. “Ma’am, ain’t no place in this world clean. Every place has secrets and bad people, and this state ain’t no different. On some levels, Arkansas ranks up there in the top five in terms of shady dealin’s and secrets, at least in my opinion.”

  The comment made Karina think about the newspaper articles littering Betty’s room. She considered asking Cheryl if she knew anything about the disappearance of Maud Crawford or Carolyn Singleton, yet a little warning flag inside her gut warned her not to broach the subject. Cheryl would probably ask why Karina was interested in such an old case and Karina didn’t want to lie to the woman, and she didn’t feel right about mentioning what Betty had been looking at before she keeled over. “What could be worse than mobsters using the elderly to fulfill body parts orders on the black market, killing them, and then stealing their money?”

  “Oh, lots of things. Let’s see. There was those poor boys who died on a railroad track in Saline County back in the eighties. The state medical examiner actually ruled they was so high on marijuana that they just plopped down for a rest on the tracks and didn’t hear the train barrelin’ down on them. Ain’t that pathetic? The man was a highly trained professional and that was his rulin’! Ain’t nobody in this world who could smoke enough weed they didn’t hear a train comin’! Gettin’ mashed by a locomotive don’t explain the bullet holes found on what was left of ’em either. I mean, come on! Everyone around here knew those boys stumbled upon a drug drop and pa
id the ultimate price, and the medical examiner was a paid lackey of the governor. A few people who were vocal about it were silenced right quick, except for the families of those poor boys.”

  “Silenced, as in for good?”

  “Yeah. D.E.A.D. good. The mess was all tied to the Mena airport and the drug cartels and gun-running from Central America. It was all some high-level government crap during the war in Nicaragua. And you know, when the government wants somethin’, they don’t care who or what stands in their way. Central, west, east—it don’t really make a difference what part of Arkansas you’re in—it’s all corrupt. Like the Good Book says, the love of money is the root of all evil. And it’s a thick root that runs deep into blood-stained dirt.”

  Karina’s mouth dropped open. “That’s insane! So, you didn’t mention the southern part of the state. I hope that’s because nothing bad has happened there. I mean, seriously, how much trouble comes from farmland except maybe a plague of locusts, right?”

  “I didn’t mention it because the southern part of the state is the worst! Farmin’, timber, gas and oil reserves—the closer you get to the Louisiana border, the corrupter the soil. Like I said, the ground’s been fertilized with blood. I ain’t even kiddin’! And don’t even get me started on the former president and all the shenanigans him and his wife were a part of when he was governor! Why do you think she lost the presidential election? I’ll tell you why. It’s because people are informed now, not in the dark like they was when he ran in the early nineties. The digital age makes it harder to hide secrets and easier for those exposin’ them to remain alive.”

  Karina sensed Cheryl was about to step up on a political soapbox. The woman zoomed from a kind soul preaching comforting words to a fired-up citizen in a heartbeat. Karina hated politics, especially with the tremendous divide throughout the country after the recent election.

  “It’s just a stroke of luck that boy who helped you ain’t gettin’ locked up forever. Good thing your friend stepped in to help.”

  Karina’s eyes widened with shock. “Do you mean Lucas Hill? The kid who was hiding at Caesar’s place to kill him? And which friend are you talking about?”

  “Yep. It was all over the news earlier. Your friend from California—the biker guy? He worked out some kind of deal with the prosecutin’ attorney’s office. Since the boy basically saved your life, he’s gettin’ probation for deliverin’ body parts rather than jail time. In exchange for his testimony when trials come up against all the doctors who performed the surgeries, the boy will be under home confinement and workin’ for your friend. Didn’t he tell you?”

  Karina chewed on her bottom lip, stunned into silence. At least she knew why Cal showed up earlier. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about the entire thing. Yes, Lucas did offer a distraction by smashing a vase on top of Caesar’s head, giving Karina enough time to scoop up the gun on the floor and blow the old mafia bastard’s brains out, but no jail time for Lucas’s part in the crimes? And now he was under Cal’s watchful eye? Why in the world did Cal agree to such a thing? What was the angle he was working? Did he think that by showing some sort of mercy to the kid it would melt Karina’s shields and win her affection back?

  It took Karina a few seconds to process it all before she finally answered, “No, I didn’t know, and I must say I’m rather surprised.”

  “I ain’t. Again, the government’s usin’ its powers to control someone while forcin’ them to do their biddin’. I sure wouldn’t want to be in the kid’s shoes, knowin’ I’m bein’ forced to testify against people who probably preferred I was six-feet under. All those doctors who performed surgeries on the sly, usin’ body parts harvested on the black market? I guarantee you they all are shakin’ in their skivvies. You know, that’s why I’ve never been a fan of big government. They got too much power and love throwin’ it around. When the cases are all over, they’ll forget all about protectin’ the poor kid and move on to somethin’ else. Then, Lucas Hill will be a sittin’ duck.”

  Deciding it was time to bow out of the conversation before getting immersed inside a political rant, Karina said, “You’ve given me a lot to think about and probably some new material for nightmares! I’ve got to finish cleaning the food from Betty’s carpet and check on Cecil and the other residents. All the commotion shook them up. Would you mind calling Stacy and see if she can come in early to help serve lunch?”

  Cheryl waved her arms in a shooing motion. “Sorry, I know I get wound up sometimes. Go take care of what you need to, ma’am. I’ll make the call. If Stacy ain’t available, I’ll keep callin’ staff until I find someone.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Oh, and one more thing?”

  “What’s that? Oh, wait, I already know. It’s Karina, not ma’am. Sorry. Old southern habit. Wait, before you go, please, sip you some orange juice or somethin’. I wasn’t kiddin’ earlier when I said you looked pale.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  Ignoring the protest, Cheryl hurried over to the fridge and snatched the giant container of juice. In seconds, she stood in front of Karina, holding the glass with a stern look on her face. “Drink.”

  The second the rim touched her lips and the scent of citrus hit her, Karina felt her stomach jerk. She’d never been a big fan of orange juice but didn’t want to hurt Cheryl’s feelings. She took a long gulp, stifled a burp, and then handed the glass back to Cheryl. “There. Happy?”

  “It’s a start. I’ll keep my eye on you when lunch rolls around. I expect to see you eat a big ol’ bowlful of gumbo.”

  Smiling, Karina dashed through the door and out into the dining area. As she trotted past the tables, she noticed someone—Cheryl she assumed—had cleared them of the dirty plates and glasses from breakfast and set fresh china and glassware on them all.

  The woman was a godsend in more ways than one. Karina was surrounded by surrogate moms, grandmothers, and grandfathers. It was annoying and wonderful at the same time.

  All those thoughts vanished as her stomach revolted. She didn’t have time to think of anything else except running. Karina barely made it to the downstairs bathroom before puking up the meager contents with such force she saw stars. Apparently, her gut didn’t like the combination of cooked pork and orange juice.

  “Cheryl’s right. I’ve got to stop worrying,” Karina whispered after cleaning up at the sink. She winced at the reflection in the mirror. The scar from where Carmella sliced her cheek still looked ugly. Though her broken nose had healed, it sported a new bump on the bridge and seemed slightly crooked. “Yikes, I do look bad. That’s it. I’m calling Bo and telling him we’re on for horseback riding this weekend. Some fresh air and sun will do the body good. Makeup sure isn’t doing the trick. I look like a ghost!”

  Karina jumped as her cell vibrated again. Hoping it was news about Betty, she pulled it from her pocket. Rather than a text from her mother, it was from Bo.

  “Can’t make it tonight. Meeting wasn’t about planting. It’s about Brice. He’s in the burn unit at the hospital. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Oh God!” Karina whispered while typing a text back. “How much worse can this day get? No wonder Mr. Barton looked so upset! Poor Brice!”

  “What happened? Car accident? Please know I’m here when you need to talk. Which hospital? Betty’s in National Park Med Center. Pretty sure she had a heart attack this morning, so if that’s where you are, I’ll see you soon. Praying for Brice.”

  Stepping out of the restroom, Karina headed upstairs. By the time she made it to Betty’s door, her phone buzzed with a response.

  “No, Children’s in Little Rock. Their burn unit is the best. Accident all right. A chemical one and not the kind I want to text about. I’ll call you later to talk. Love you. Keeping Betty in my prayers too.”

  Entering Betty’s apartment, Karina let out a deep sigh. The news from Bo was heartbreaking yet rather weird and sort of cryptic. A chemical burn? How in the world did that happen? She knew no
thing about farming. Maybe it was from some fertilizer or spray used to keep insects away? She shuddered at the thought of being burned and all the pain Brice had ahead of him while healing. Though she didn’t know anyone personally who suffered from second or third degree burns, she’d seen enough shows on television about the entire process. One particular episode of Inside the Emergency Room came to mind. A woman had been attacked by her crazy ex-husband, who tossed gas on her then lit a match. The screams of the woman from the burn unit as they removed the dead skin were chilling.

  Knowing Brice was in for the same treatment made chill bumps sprout on her arms and neck.

  “Ugh, I can’t think about that right now or I’ll puke again. Mental note—stay away from orange juice,” Karina whispered while she headed to the utility closet to retrieve cleaning supplies, doing her best to not step on the paper strewn across the floor. At least cleaning the place up would give her something to occupy her frazzled mind.

  “Want some help?”

  Spinning around, Karina let out a small gasp. “Mom! Yikes, I didn’t even hear you come up the stairs! Good thing I’m not armed.”

  LiAnn glanced around the room, grimacing as she stepped inside. “My, but you’re getting jumpy in your old age and maybe hard of hearing too?”

  Rolling her eyes, Karina responded, “Funny. If I’m old that means you’re ancient. So, what’s the news on Betty?”

  LiAnn chuckled. “That smart mouth of yours never takes a break, does it?”

  “It’s part of my DNA, so it isn’t my fault. Blame genetics. Again, Betty?”

  “Yikes…add short-tempered to the list,” LiAnn teased. She sensed the tension and unease wafting from Karina. The annoyed look on her daughter’s face spoke volumes about her current mood. “Okay, sorry. Anyway, they’re prepping her for surgery. She had a heart attack and needs several bypasses and a stent. We can’t see her until she is out of recovery tomorrow, so I brought Pop and Mom home, along with Wiley and Seth. We all figured it was better to worry and stress here rather than the CICU waiting room. I never understood why hospitals buy such uncomfortable and ugly furniture.”