What Looks Like Crazy (13 page)

“No, no, this is really bad!” Mr. Lewey was clearly having a panic attack.

“What's
his
problem?” the woman asked.

Without warning, Mr. Lewey shoved me aside so hard I bumped my elbow on the rail. I could hear him gasping and struggling. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to pry open the door before our oxygen supply runs out!” he yelled. “We're all going to die!”

“Oh no!” the woman said. “I'm stuck in an elevator with a maniac.” She began banging on the door as well. “Help!” she cried.

“Move out of my way, lady,” Mr. Lewey ordered. “Where is that damn phone?”

“Don't touch me, you weirdo!”

I heard several thumps. Mr. Lewey yelped. “Stop hitting me with your umbrella, you old bag!”

“Both of you stop it!” I shouted as Mr. Lewey grappled for the phone and began shouting into it that we were all dying, even though we'd only been stopped little more than a minute.

“Mr. Lewey, I think we should practice our deep-breathing exercises,” I said.

“How the hell are we going to do that when there is no air!” he yelled. “We're going to die in here. I'm passing out!”

I heard him hit the floor only a split second before the lights flashed on. The elevator gave a jolt and started down. The door opened, and the crowd waiting to get on stepped back as the woman with the umbrella cried out in alarm, “Let me out of here! That man is a psycho!”

Mr. Lewey scrambled to his feet, touched his face. “I'm alive! I'm alive!”

“Mr. Lewey, why don't we go back up to my office and—”

He wasn't listening. He all but hurled himself from the elevator, pushed through the small crowd, and exited via the double glass doors leading outside.

I ran after him, even as the rain pelted my face and lightning flashed ominously in the dark sky, even as I wondered whether other psychologists were forced to chase their patients through parking lots on a regular basis. Had I not been so caught up in my thoughts, I might have noticed the steel drainage grate in the asphalt parking lot. Which was why I was so surprised when the heel of my shoe jammed inside one of the holes. I immediately fell forward. I tried to catch my fall with my hands. Pain shot through my left wrist.

A car skidded toward me. I glanced up to see a panicked Mr. Lewey behind the wheel, headed straight toward me in an old, battered red Ford Mustang. I closed my eyes and prepared to die, just as he swerved to one side to keep from running over me. He hit a speed bump so hard that his tires left the pavement for a split second before landing hard in a mud puddle. Black, oily water sprayed my face and hair. His back hubcap flew off, came at me like a Frisbee, and bounced off my head. Then all went black.

When I opened
my eyes I found myself lying just inside the lobby, on what appeared to be a blanket made up of men's jackets. Someone had covered me with another one. A sweet-smelling woman pressed ice to my head. I heard two men in the background arguing the merits of having moved me.

“You just opened yourself up to a lawsuit, pal,” one of them said. “You're never supposed to move someone who has been badly injured.”

“You're saying we should have left her in the parking lot, where she could have been struck by lightning?” the other man said. “What a jerk!”

“Please stop fussing!” the woman holding the ice to my head told them. “She's awake.”

I blinked up at her. “How badly am I injured?” I asked.

“You have a bump on your forehead, hon. An ambulance is on the way. How's your vision?”

I vaguely recognized her. She wore a nurse's uniform. “I can see okay, but my wrist hurts,” I told her.

“Try to lie very still,” she said. “Is there someone we can call? A relative?” she added.

I had to think for a moment. I did not want to give my mother's name: I knew she would go ape on me. I debated telling the nurse I was an orphan.

Then I heard, “Eek. Oh, my God! Is she dead?”

I recognized Mona's voice. She pushed through the crowd and gave a huge gasp. “Kate, are you okay? What happened to you?”

“Mr. Lewey flipped out on the elevator and almost ran over me in the parking lot.”

“We're waiting on the ambulance,” the nurse said to Mona, even as I heard a siren in the distance. “You might want to try to contact a relative.”

I looked at Mona. “Please don't call the Junk Sisters.”

 

I arrived at
the ER, where I was immediately placed on a gurney and wheeled into X-ray. When I was returned to my cubicle in the ER, I found Jay waiting.

“Mona said she was told to contact your next of kin,” he said and grinned. “I knew you'd choose me.”

“Where is Mona?”

“She's on her way. She figured she should cancel your appointments for the day. How're you feeling?”

“Not so good.”

Jay was interrupted from answering when the staff surgeon, Dr. Beau Bodine, reappeared, carrying my X-rays. He had a shock of red hair and wore the usual green hospital garb. He looked surprised to see Jay. “Is the hospital on fire?”

Jay shook his head. “I hope not. I just finished a twenty-four-hour shift, and I'm not in the mood to work. Actually, I'm married to this pretty lady.”

“No way!” Bodine said.

Jay looked at me. “Katie, you've probably heard me mention Bobo. He and I play racquetball at the gym a couple of times a week.”

“Bobo is my nickname,” Dr. Bodine told me.

“Tell her your other nickname.”

Bobo's face turned as red as his hair. “This might not be the right time.”

“They call him Knife,” Jay said.

I gulped.

“I have good news and bad news,” Bobo said to me. “The good news is, you don't have a concussion. That knot on your head should go down in a couple of days if you keep icing it. The bad news is, you've got one hell of a wrist fracture. We could set it and slap on a cast, but I'd have trouble sleeping at night if I didn't put in a couple of pins.”

“Surgery?” I asked, giving another gulp.

“'Fraid so. You won't have much of a scar, though. You'll still be able to wear a bikini.”

“Yeah, but will she still be able to bear my children?” Jay asked.

“I wouldn't recommend it,” Bobo said. “I have three kids, and my life is hell.”

“Could you guys get serious for one minute here?” I said.

“I'm sorry,” Bobo said.

“Will it hurt?” I asked.

“What, the surgery?” Bobo nodded. “Damn right it'll hurt. Which is why I was thinking I might knock you out first,” he added. “It'll cost a little more, but I think it's worth it. Once you wake up, you can go home. You'll be groggy for a while: I plan to give you good drugs.”

“What do I need to do?”

Bobo shrugged. “Just sign a couple of forms stating you won't sue me if I accidentally operate on the wrong wrist. Next thing you know, you'll be in la-la land.”

Mona showed up while I was waiting for the forms. Jay had gone to get me a cup of water. “Everything is taken care of,” she said. “I rescheduled your patients, and I spoke to Thad's secretary.”

“Did you tell her Harold Fry was missing?”

“Yes. She promised to tell Thad as soon as he called in. Also, she assured me he wouldn't mind taking any emergency calls you might have.” Mona sighed dramatically. “No telling what you're going to have to do in return for that little favor.”

“I'll probably have to let him look up my dress,” I said wearily. “What about Mike and the puppies?”

“Mrs. Perez is on it. How badly are you hurt?”

I filled her in. “I'm going to be operated on by a guy named Bobo the Knife. First, though, I have to sign a statement that I won't get mad at him if he screws up.”

“Wow, that sounds pretty scary,” Mona said. “They need to put you on a morphine drip. That way you won't care
what
happens.”

 

When I opened
my eyes, I found Mona and Jay standing beside my bed. “Welcome back,” Jay said.

“Is it over?”

“Yes. And, look, you have a nice new cast on your wrist. Bobo insisted on signing it.”

I wanted to go back to sleep.

“Jay has offered to take you home and stay with you,” Mona said. “I made him promise there will be no messing around unless you are fully conscious.”

Mona and a nurse helped me into my clothes. I drifted off several times as Jay drove me home. Mike met us at the front door.

“She might need to go out,” I said.

Jay let her out the back, then joined me in the laundry room, where I was checking on her litter. “What are you going to do with all these puppies?” he asked.

“I don't know.” I suddenly remembered I was supposed to take them to the vet that morning. I made a mental note to reschedule once I stopped feeling loopy.

Jay let Mike back in. I found a note on my kitchen table from Mrs. Perez. She had taken care of my doggie-farm chores, straightened my house, and put clean sheets on my bed.

God bless Mrs. Perez.

Jay helped me upstairs to my bedroom. Mike followed and watched us closely. I looked at myself in the mirror and groaned. “I have to take a shower and wash my hair,” I said.

“Great. We can shower together.”

I gave him my sternest look.

“Maybe not,” he said. “You'll need to keep that cast dry. Sit on the bed while I find something.”

I sat on the bed. Mike came over and licked my hand as though she understood I wasn't feeling well.

It seemed like forever before Jay returned with his supplies. He wrapped a small plastic garbage bag around my wrist and fastened it on with rubber bands and tape. I grabbed clean underwear and my favorite long T-shirt, and stepped inside the bathroom.

“I'll be right outside,” Jay said. “Be careful.”

I showered and washed my hair in record time. The hot water felt great on my bruised and sore body. I emerged from the bathroom in my T-shirt, with wet hair.

“I'll bet you bought that at one of those sexy lingerie stores,” he said.

“I didn't want to risk turning you on.”

“You could send ice water through a man's loins in that thing. Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Maybe later,” I said. My shower had tired me. I crawled beneath my covers and went to sleep. I was nudged awake later, and found Jay holding a food tray. He put it on my lap. Waffles. “Yum,” I managed in a groggy voice. I winced as pain shot through my head.

“I figured they would hit the spot.”

I didn't have to ask where he'd gotten them. Waffle House wasn't far. Jay knew that when I wasn't feeling well or was really tired, I often craved pancakes or waffles. “This is so nice of you,” I said, digging in. I noticed it was almost eight p.m., which explained why I was as hungry as a bear.

“I filled your prescription for pain pills while I was out. You were due to take one a couple of hours ago.” He uncapped the bottle and handed me one. I took it gratefully. “Has Mike been out?”

“Yeah. She's been worried about you. I put her on the bed beside you so she could sniff you and make sure you were okay. Mrs. Perez came by and showed me how to get the runt to eat, and Mona called to check on you.”

“I'm sorry you had to spend the day babysitting me,” I said. “I know you have things to do.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I don't like to impose.”

“You're not imposing, Katie.”

I averted my gaze. It was too tempting to fall back into the role of being Jay's wife. Being Jay's wife made me crazy. I spent a lot of time thinking about burning skyscrapers. Atlanta had a lot of skyscrapers compared to, say, Cowpens, South Carolina. I could handle being Jay's wife in a place like Cowpens.

Better to get my own waffles than to live in constant worry.

I finished eating, and Jay took the tray. I could feel the pain pill making me loose, and my headache wasn't so bad anymore. I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes.

 

I heard a
thunk on my nightstand and knew it was Jay setting a cup of coffee there for me. Funny how things stick with you. I opened my eyes. My headache was back, and my wrist hurt.

“Good morning,” Jay said.

I sat up slowly. “I didn't mean for you to stay all night.” I glanced at the pillow beside me and saw his head print.

He shrugged. “I'm off for forty-eight hours. How are you feeling?”

“A couple of aspirin wouldn't hurt. I can't afford to go into the office groggy.”

“As your care provider, I wouldn't recommend going to work today.”

“I have to. Some of my patients get edgy if they don't see me every week.” I reached for my coffee cup and took a careful sip, and was reminded that Jay had a knack for making good java. “Could you give me a ride to the office?”

“If you're sure,” he said. “I'll get your aspirin.” He went into the bathroom.

I heard him open my medicine cabinet. I glanced at the alarm clock. Seven thirty. I was pretty sure it was Saturday. I tried to remember when my first patient was due in, but my appointment book was sitting on my desk at the office. I called Mona at home.

“Did you and Jay
do it
?” she asked first thing.

“Not that I recall.”

“How're you feeling?”

Jay handed me two aspirin. “Better,” I said. “Do you know what time my first patient is supposed to arrive?”

“I rearranged your schedule,” she said. “You're free until ten. Also, you'll have a couple of hours down time at lunch in case you need to rest. Do you think you're up to it?”

“Yeah. I have to find Harold Fry and Mr. Lewey.”

“I've already spoken to Mr. Lewey,” Mona said, “and I let him have it for almost running over you.”

“He wasn't really trying to run over me,” I said. “He swerved in the nick of time.”

“He's still a jerk. As for Harold Fry, I had no luck, but I'll keep trying.” We hung up.

Jay looked at me. “A patient tried to run over you yesterday?” he said in disbelief. He didn't wait for a response. “Another patient is threatening to blow up your office with nitroglycerin? And you're worried about
my
job being dangerous?”

Two paws suddenly appeared on my bed. Mike obviously sensed the discord between Jay and me. “I'm trained to handle this sort of thing,” I said.

“Which is what I've been trying to tell you about
my
job.”

I stroked Mike's head, and she immediately went into her tail-wagging frenzy. I tried to reassure her I was okay. “I'll bet you're hungry,” I said.

“I put down fresh food and water after I let her out. She ate a big breakfast and fed her litter.”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

Our gazes met. We simply looked at each other. “I need to grab a shower,” I said, wanting to feel the hot water on my aching body again. “It won't take me long to get ready.” I brushed the covers aside and put my feet on the floor.