Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [35]
Josie backed away from the open doorway and reached out to close it quietly. She wasn’t aware that she was crying until she was outside. Inside the Explorer, she reached for a tissue and blew her nose. The scent of lily of the valley was so strong she got back out of the car and walked across the lawn to Paul’s neighbor’s house, where she dropped to her knees to sniff the tiny flowers. There was hardly any scent at all. She moved along on her knees, realizing how stupid she must look to anyone watching. She didn’t care. Satisfied, she stood up and walked back to the Explorer. She felt light-headed when she leaned back in the driver’s seat to let the light flower scent wash over her. “Oh, Mom,” she wailed.
He knew he was in a hospital. He could tell by the smell and the way everyone was whispering. He knew a thing or two about hospitals. People died in hospitals. His father had died in one, his three stepfathers had died in hospitals and so had his two sisters. He knew he had to open his eyes, but the moment he did that, the voices in the room would start to talk to him, ask him questions. He didn’t want to talk, and he certainly didn’t want to answer questions. He needed to think. He needed to remember how he got here. He knew he would never voluntarily go to a hospital on his own. That had to mean he had had an accident of some kind, and someone else brought him here. He wanted to move his legs and arms, test his fingers, open his eyes but if he did that the voices would know he was awake. Better to wait and think. He heard the words John Doe Number 4. Were they referring to him? Was he a John Doe? It must mean they didn’t know his name. He remembered then. He’d been running in the park. All he had on him was a twenty-dollar bill for the taxi ride after his run. Did he trip and fall? Was he mugged? How had he gotten here? Well, the only way he was going to find out was to open his eyes and ask questions. He did just that.
There were five people in the room: two doctors and three nurses. “What happened to me? How long have I been here?” he whispered.
Instead of answering his questions, the tall distinguished doctor asked one of his own: “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three. What’s wrong with me?”
“Are you in any pain?” the doctor asked, ignoring that question, too.
“My head and neck hurt. I had a headache when I started out. What the hell happened to me?”
“We don’t know. We’re assuming you were mugged. You had no ID on you when you were brought in. You had no watch, no rings, no money. It was a logical conclusion. A nanny walking a baby in the park called 911 and you were brought here by ambulance. You have a severe concussion. Your name please.”
“Paul Brouillette. How long have I been here?”
“This is your fifth day. You were unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours. For the last few days you’ve been slipping in and out. We tried to talk to you, but you kept falling asleep. Your vital signs are good. That nasty headache is going to stay with you for a few more days. What you need now is rest and some solid food. You should be able to leave here in a day or so. Now, we need to take down your insurance information. Someone from the business office will be up in a little while to do that. For now we want to draw some blood, run some tests, and take your blood pressure. By the way, I’m Dr. Slobodian and this is Dr. Entwhistle. These lovely nurses are Karen, Janet, and Andrea. I’ll check back on you when I make rounds this evening. Sleep and relax, Mr. Brouillette. It’s the best thing for you.”
“I need to make some telephone calls,” Paul said wearily.
“The nurses will make them for you.”
He thought nurses wore little starched caps and rustled when they walked. These women moved soundlessly and wore squashed-up blue paper hats and blue paper booties. On television they only wore getups like that in the operating room.
“Now, Mr. Brouillette, who would you like me to call?” one of the nurses asked cheerfully.
Jack Emery? The office? His mother? Josie Dupré? Zip? “I can’t remember,” he lied.