|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
............Part Twelve
........,
"Alica? Are you still there?"
"Y-yes," she stammered. "I'm sorry, someone was asking me something." Oh, how easily the lie slipped out. "What were you saying?"
"I asked you if you would like to go out Friday night?" repeated Brice. "We both have the evening free, and if you're agreeable, I thought we'd start our date with dinner at Chez Paul. It's a moderately priced restaurant down in the heart of--"
"Craig!" Alica practically had to shout to interrupt the flow of Brice's words.
"Yes?"
"Craig, I'm sorry...I can't make it Friday night." In for a penny, in for a pound. What's one more lie? "I, um, I'm taking a shift for one of the other nurses. Her brother's in from out of town, and he's only here for a couple of days..."
"Oh. Well, I understand. Let's see...how about...."
Alica was only half-paying attention. The piece of paper in front of her was covered with her fair scrawl.
Alica Gage.
Mrs. John Gage.
****
Meanwhile, back at the station....
"Kelly!"
Chet jumped. "Uh, yeah, Cap?"
"We gonna get lunch sometime this month?"
Chet stared guiltily at the mess in the pan and realized he'd been standing in front of it for some time now, but had done nothing with it. Hurriedly, he lowered the flame on the burner and rapidly swirled the conglomeration. "Sorry, Cap, it'll just be a couple of minutes."
Captain Stanley dropped his lanky form into a chair and folded his hands on his stomach. "What's with him?" he asked MIke Stoker, jerking his head in Chet's direction.
Stoker shrugged. "I don't know, Cap," he replied, his gaze following Chet as the stocky Irishman hastily dumped some sort of seasoning into the pan and sitrred some more. "He's been sort of spacey ever since we got back from the hospital."
"Well, we know it's not his love for Gage that's make him act like a lovesick teenager," sighed the Cap.
Catching this last remark, Chet opened his mouth to retort, but Marco beat him to it.
"Oh, I think it has something to do with that nurse in the ER," he grinned.
"Well, I don't care what's causing it, but I want it to stop interfering with my lunch," complained the Cap.
"Lunch is coming right up," interjected Chet, dumping plates onto the table and sliding them across to the men seated there. He saved a scowl for Marco, who just flashed his teeth.
"Buena suerte, mi amigo," he chuckled. "You're gonna need it."
*****
Kelly Brackett finished a last notation on the paper in front of him, then lifted the receiver of his phone as it buzzed a second time. "Brackett," he said tersely, closing the file and sliding it aside as he prepared to open the next one. His hand stopped as someone on the other end spoke. "I'll be right there."
He dropped the phone onto the cradle and slipped his pen back into the pocket of his lab coat. He rose swiftly and scrambled around his wide desk.
In the hall, Dixie McCall looked up as he darted out of his office. "Kel, where's the fire?" she smiled.
His return smile startled her. "Joanne DeSoto just woke up," he reported. "Find Roy, will you, and send him to her room?"
"Right, Kel," Dixie called after the doctor as he disappeared around the corner. She grinned as she strolled more casually back to the desk. Things were sure looking up for the DeSotos, she decided.
Just as she lifted the phone, she felt a sudden, unexpected queasiness.
Oh no...
Dropping the phone, Dixie turned and dashed across the hall into the lounge.
Morning sickness, hell, she thought as she retched into the sink. This has been practically non-stop....
****
Brackett entered the room and offered his best smile to the patient in the bed. "Hi," he said. Roy hadn't arrived yet, but he saw no need to wait for him to talk to Joanne about her injuries. "How are you feeling?"
Joanne peered at him. "Is Roy okay?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Brackett drew alongside her bed and studied her chart, nodding. "Roy's fine," he assured her.
"The kids?" She searched his face worriedly.
"The kids are fine, too," he replied, "nothing a couple of days' bedrest won't cure." He leaned forward and pulled his penlight from his pocket. "Let me just take a look here, okay?" He checked her eyes, then examined the bandages that covered the burns she'd sustained. Looks good, he had just decided when Joanne jerked, struggling upright.
"Johnny!" she cried. "Where's Johnny?" She turned frantic eyes on the doctor.
"Joanne, relax, Johnny's going to be fine."
Her panic only increased. "It's all my fault!" she insisted.
"Joanne," Brackett tried, catching her and gently pushing her back against the pillow, "what happened to Johnny is certainly not your fault!"
"He was just trying to help..." Her voice was beginning to fail.
"Joanne, it's all right. It wasn't anybody's fault." I'll have to give her a sedative.
"Did he get out?" she murmured, her eyes closing briefly, then fluttering open again, worry still creasing her features.
"Johnny? Joanne, he wasn't there...." Brackett was becoming distinctly confused.
"....keep it a secret...." Joanne's eyes closed.
"Keep what a secret?"
Brackett turned. Roy stood in the doorway, his face reflecting something akin to suspicion. The doctor shook his head and looked back at his patient.
"I have no idea," he muttered.
"Well, I do." Roy spared his wife a pained look before he spun and slammed back through the door.
Click the patch to go back to the Main Page.
