Chapter Fifty-Four

As Gonzo pushed Leah’s wheelchair off the elevator on the third floor, Ernie and Gloria watched from the nurse’s station. “Gloria, is there an empty exam room?” asked Gonzo.

“Yes. Exam three.”

“What are you doing? He’s standing right there,” whispered Leah frantically.

Trapper was busy looking over a chart and signing some paperwork, but stopped to see who was going to the exam room. When he saw Leah, he turned back around and continued writing out orders on the chart.

“Trapper, what happened to Leah?” asked Ernie.

“I have no idea,” he answered without looking up.

Ernie and Gloria looked perplexed at each other. “Aren’t you going to find out?”

Trapper didn’t acknowledge the question, but rather finished his entries in the chart, handing it to Gloria. Moving his glasses to top of his head, he turned and watched Gonzo wheel Leah into the exam room and started back toward his office. He got halfway down the hall before he stopped, shook his head, and turned back the way he had come. He avoided looking at Ernie and Gloria as he passed them on the way to the exam room and pushed the door open slightly, peering in. Grimacing at the sight of her foot, he slowly entered the room. “What’s this?”

“It’s probably a broken foot,” answered Gonzo.

Leaning against the wall by the door, Trapper asked, “When did this happen?”

Leah looked at Gonzo with a mixture of annoyance and resignation, and when Gonzo nodded toward Trapper, she bowed her head and quietly said, “After I watched your taillights go around the corner yesterday I kicked the gate.”

He wanted to say something to the effect that ‘that was stupid’, but instead he said, “What did the gate ever do to you?”

Glancing over, she could see there was no laughter in his eyes. “I was trying to apologize, but you didn’t want to hear it.” Raising his chin, Trapper crooked his jaw.

“You know what. I’ll just leave. You two can discuss it while you fix her foot,” said Gonzo, pointing at Trapper before he peeled his gloves off, tossing them in the trash on his way out of the room.

Moving to the end of the exam table, Trapper pulled on a pair of gloves and studied her foot.

“Actually, it’s more of an explanation than an apology.”

He looked up at her for an instant, and then began cleaning her toe. “I’m listening. You might want to lie back while I do this.”

She was relieved that she didn’t have to look at him as she tried to explain. She kept her eyes on the ceiling instead. “I apologize for saying it so badly and upsetting you, but I do not apologize for what I was trying to say. Ow,” she said, jerking her foot back. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her foot back down. “OW!” she yelled, sitting back up. “Are you punishing me?”

He rolled his eyes and kept working. “This is going to hurt.”

“Stop!” she shouted, pulling her foot away from him.

“Lie down and be still. I have to remove the pieces of the nail.”

Clasping her hands on top of her, she cringed as she continued her explanation. “Trapper, other than the last few years, I’ve never been on my own. And I handled the last four years so well, I caused a hole to form in my heart,” she snorted. “But before that, there was always someone else taking care of me. While I was married that was okay because I had the children to take care of, so I didn’t mind John doing everything else.” She flinched and waited for that particular pain to pass before going on. “I don’t know why I couldn’t say this right before, but it’s really very simple.” Sitting up, she finally looked at him. “I need to learn to depend on me before I let myself become dependent on someone else again.” Trapper stood still for a moment, hovering his tweezers over her toe. “That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you do for me, but you’ve got to let me make all those stupid mistakes that are supposed to make me wise in my old age.”

“Like kicking a gate?” Trapper straightened up and leaned with both hands on the end of the exam table. “I can’t stand by and watch you make mistakes that could get you seriously injured or killed.”

“Trapper…” she said, melting with sudden understanding. “I wouldn’t put myself in that position. Regardless of how Mrs. Murphy seemed, Mr. Murphy said that the damage had been done to the locks on the sliders. People from the beach were spending time on the deck and furniture admiring the view and using the kitchen. But there was never anything violent.”

“Then why all the security?”

“Mrs. Murphy was confused. Mr. Murphy was going to have a monitored alarm system installed anyway, whether I rented it or not, and he had to fix the locks, so he’s putting better ones in. My part was the gate. I didn’t want people wandering up on the deck since there are no curtains on the sliders. I asked that the monitoring for the alarm system be part of my rent because I do have valuables in the house. I don’t pay any utilities directly either. It’s all included in the rent. When I asked for the monitoring to be added to the rent, Mr. Murphy said he was just happy someone was living in there, and that’s why he gave me the house for what I was paying at the other place.”

“And this?” he said, indicating her foot.

“I was angry.”

“Pardon me,” he said with a quick glare before he leaned back over her foot.

“Not at you. At me,” she said softly, laying back down on the bed and closing her eyes.

Trapper considered her foot, and as he moved to the head of the exam table, he muttered, “Maybe I should concentrate on saving you from yourself.” She flinched at the unexpected kiss he placed on her lips. When she opened her eyes, he was still there, and after another kiss, he chuckled as she twisted her mouth and looked away. “You should be ashamed,” he admonished before he went back to her foot. “I have to wonder, though, why Murphy was so willing to give you that house when he could have gotten a lot more for it.”

***

“Trapper,” said Gonzo as he walked into Trapper’s office and plopped down on the sofa. “You might want to put a guard on Leah’s door. She’s determined to go home.”

Closing the chart he was reviewing, Trapper asked, “What room is she in?”

“402.”

“I’ll talk to her. Did you start the antibiotic?”

“No. She refused. She wanted me to give her pills so…”

“So she could go home,” interrupted Trapper, standing and heading toward the door. As he walked down the hall toward her room, he prepared himself for the discussion he knew would take place. By the time he opened her door, his confidence was showing. Unfortunately, she wasn’t there. He went to the nurse’s station. “The patient in 402…where is she?”

“She’s not there?”

“No, she’s not there,” he snapped. Shaking his head, he went to the elevator and pushed the button for the basement. He walked into her office and stood in front her desk with his hands on his hips, looking at her back.

“Sit down, Trapper,” she said without looking around. He said nothing. “I know it’s you. I hear your breathing.” She finished typing on her keyboard and spun around in her chair. “I don’t know anyone who breathes as deeply and evenly as you, especially when you’re angry.”

“Not that I’m angry, but why do you suppose I’d be angry?” he asked with an insolent smile.

“Could be any number of reasons,” she said as she studied her diagrams, and then wrote something on a chart. “It could be because I left my room. It could be because I refused the IV. It could be because I’m sitting at my desk, and my foot isn’t propped up.” She looked up and smiled. “It could be all three.”

Cocking his head, he looked hard at her, and then looked around for a wheelchair. “How did you get down here?”

“I walked. This is a walking cast, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” he said, moving around her desk. “But you’re not supposed to walk on it until it’s completely dry. If you’ve compromised it by walking on it, you’ll have to get another one.” Reaching across her, he picked up her phone and dialed. “This is Dr. McIntyre. I need a wheelchair in the basement. Yes, the basement. Just take the elevator all the way down, and when you get off in the basement keep going straight until you can’t go any further.”

“I’m not leaving without my paperwork.” Logging off her computer, she quickly gathered all the papers into a neat pile, the pens, pencils and rulers in a bundle which she bound with a rubber band, and a book that had been lying open on the side of her desk. She picked it all up and held it against her.

On the way back up to her room, she let out a heavy sigh. “Why do I have to stay here tonight? Why can’t I go home?”

“It could be because your cast isn’t set. It could be because you can’t go down the stairs to your studio. It could be because you need an IV antibiotic.” He leaned over the back of the wheelchair and spoke in her ear. “It could be all three.” Stopping at the nurse’s station before he rolled Leah into her room, he said to the nurse, “Dr. Gates ordered an IV antibiotic for Ms. Haverty. Let’s get it started.”

He pushed her into her room and locked the wheels of the chair, then took her work from her and set it on the over bed table. “Where’s your gown?”

“I hate hospital gowns,” she answered, pulling the gown out from under the sheets on the bed. “Why do they have to open in the back? You doctors do more in the front.”

“Because in an emergency, they’re easier to remove,” said Trapper calmly. “Now let’s get you in the bed,” he said, helping her up out of the chair.

Sitting on the side of the bed, she began to undress. When it came to her slacks, Trapper helped her work her pants leg over her cast while the nurse readied the IV. When Trapper had her under the sheet, he nodded at the nurse, but Leah refused to give her an arm. “I’m not sick, and my toe is not infected.”

Trapper smiled, sat down and took her hand. “Do you remember our talk about infections after your heart surgery?” She gave him a cool glance. “Even a slight infection could turn into something much worse just because you’re a transplant patient. An infection that starts in your toe could kill you. There may not be an infection, but we won’t know until we get your blood work back. This…” he said, nodding toward the IV bag, “…is preemptive.”

“Didn’t I read somewhere that using an antibiotic too often will cause it to be ineffective?”

“Ah. So you not only listened, you gave it some thought.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it. “You’re a long way from that, kiddo.”

“Page for Dr. McIntyre. Page for Dr. McIntyre.”

Standing, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.” He turned back as he was leaving the room. “And I expect you to be hooked up to that IV.” Just as the nurse finished with the IV, he stuck his head back in the door. “I’ve have to go. Hold dinner for me.”

Stepping out of the elevator outside emergency, he headed for the nurse’s station, but was intercepted by Dr. Riverside who pulled him along down a side hallway. “Stanley, you’re white as a ghost.”

“Wait until you see this, John. It’s more…frightening…than anything I’ve ever seen. I don’t even know how to begin.”

Creasing his eyebrows, Trapper gave Stanley a baffled look. With everything Stanley had seen come into the emergency room in his career, Trapper couldn’t imagine anything that might throw him. Stanley practically shoved him into an exam room. The sight laid out in front of him made him stagger, and for a moment he stood motionless at the horror before him.

“That’s not the only one.”

With shock written on his face, Trapper jerked his head toward Stanley. “Another one like this?”

Nodding, Stanley lead Trapper to the next exam room, and entering, Trapper let himself fall back against the wall. “Are these…. What caused this?” Pushing himself away from the wall, he moved forward and stood over a person so wadded up and mangled, he didn’t know if it was a man or woman.

“They were found in a garbage truck…the kind with the compactors. The police don’t think they were conscious when they went in. No one heard any screams,” answered Stanley.

“Get Gonzo. He should be at the Titanic. I’ll be in the other room,” said Trapper hoarsely. “And tell him before you show him.”