Lost & Found - Jacqueline Sheehan [99]
“We’ll get to the hospital, but let’s make sure Peter’s stalking days are over first,” he said.
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Tess was being prepped and sedated for emergency surgery. Pre-op medications appeared to relieve Tess from the intensity of her pain. She grabbed Rocky’s sleeve as the younger woman leaned over in concern.
“I might as well tell you, I’ve got cancer. I’ve known for months. It’s been setting up shop in my abdomen. You better call Len; he understands hospitals and their language. His phone number is in my purse, in the address book. He’ll call the children. I’m sorry, Rocky,” said Tess, her eyes dreamy with medication.
“What! What do you mean, cancer? You’re not dying, are you?” said Rocky as she collapsed in tears. Tess disappeared behind the automatic doors leading to the surgery unit.
Len did not live far from the hospital and was there in fifteen minutes. Isaiah had checked in on Hill, who was asking for Rocky. “He can wait,” she insisted. “He’s not dying, and I can only attend to one disaster at a time.”
Rocky had never met Len before, and had only heard about him from Tess, who had regaled Rocky with stories about their weekly competition with darts. She did not expect the tall, handsome man with the searing blue eyes. Len moved easily in the hospital and was able to get a report from an obliging nurse. Tess had a ruptured appendix. Len shook his head. “The doctor said that she must have suffered with an inflamed appendix for weeks, even months. If she had just come in to be examined, they could have figured this out in fifteen minutes. Instead, her appendix ruptured. And on top of that, she had an obstructed bowel, and I can’t honestly tell you where that came from, and neither can the docs.”
Rocky said, “So she doesn’t have cancer? She’s going to live?”
“Cancer? Where did she get that idea? Did she think she was dying? And she wasn’t going to tell me?” Len’s eyes registered anger, but Rocky knew that the emotion was layered thick with years and that anger was just the surface.
Rocky reached for his hand. “Maybe it was one of those synesthesia things; maybe she thought she saw something. Maybe it was green or shaped funny or made a sound that the rest of us couldn’t hear. But is she going to be OK?”
He squeezed her hand in return and sighed, relief pouring off him. “Yes. There’s the infection to deal with, and the surgery, but yes, she’ll recover.”
“I’ve got one more emergency to handle. Will you excuse me?” asked Rocky. She located Hill’s room as he waited for surgery. Someone had clipped the arrow so only several inches protruded from his upper thigh. An IV bag hung by his side, and just as Rocky walked in, a man in blue scrubs injected something into the line. “This should relax you. We’ll come get you as soon as the last surgery is cleared out. See you in fifteen minutes.”
Hill looked up at her and said, “You’re not going to shoot me again, are you?” He held out his hand as she came closer to the gurney. “This is going to score so many points with my students in B Period English. We’re studying Beowulf, and I brought a few bows to school for them to try. They’re going to love this. Hey, that stuff he injected makes me feel like I just drank