Without remorse - Tom Clancy [39]
'Do I have a choice, ma'am?' Kelly inquired with a twisted grin.
She laughed. 'No, not really.'
'She's always this pushy,' Sam told Kelly. 'She really ought to be a nurse. Docs are supposed to be more civilized. Nurses are the ones who push us around.' Sarah kicked her husband playfully.
'Then I better never run into a nurse,' Kelly said, leading them back off the dock.
Pam ended up sleeping just over ten hours, and without benefit of barbiturates, though she did awaken with a crushing headache which Kelly treated with aspirin.
'Get Tylenol,' Sarah told him. 'Easier on the stomach.' The pharmacologist made a show of checking Pam again while Sam packed up their gear. On the whole she liked what she saw. 'I want you to gain five pounds before I see you again.'
'But -'
'And John's going to bring you in to see us so that we can get you completely checked out - two weeks, say?'
'Yes, ma'am.' Kelly nodded surrender again.
'But-'
'Pam, they ganged up on me. I have to go in, too,' Kelly reported in a remarkably docile voice.
'You have to leave so early?'
Sarah nodded. 'We really should have left last night, but what the hell.' She looked at Kelly. 'If you don't show up like I said, I'll call you and scream.'
'Sarah. Jesus, you're a pushy broad!'
'You should hear what Sam says.'
Kelly walked her out to the dock, where Sam's boat was already rumbling with life. She and Pam hugged. Kelly tried just to shake hands, but had to submit to a kiss. Sam jumped down to shake their hands.
'New charts!' Kelly told the surgeon.
'Aye, Cap'n.'
'I'll get the lines.'
Rosen was anxious to show him what he'd learned. He backed out, drawing mainly on his starboard shaft and turning his Hatteras within her own length. The man didn't forget. A moment later Sam increased power on both engines and drove straight out, heading directly for water he knew to be deep. Pam just stood there, holding Kelly's hand, until the boat was a white speck on the horizon.
'I forgot to thank her,' Pam said finally.
'No, you didn't. You just didn't say it, that's all. So how are you today?'
'My headache's gone.' She looked up at him. Her hair needed washing, but her eyes were clear and there was a spring in her step. Kelly felt the need to kiss her, which he did. 'So what do we do now?'
'We need to talk,' Pam said quietly. 'It's time.'
'Wait here.' Kelly went back into the shop and returned with a pair of folding lounge chairs. He gestured her into one. 'Now tell me how terrible you are.'
Pamela Starr Madden was three weeks shy of her twenty-first birthday, Kelly learned, finally discovering her surname as well. Born to a lower-working-class family in the Panhandle region of northern Texas, she'd grown up under the firm hand of a father who was the sort of man to make a Baptist minister despair. Donald Madden was a man who understood the form of religion, but not the substance, who was strict because he didn't know how to love, who drank from frustration with life - and was angry at himself for that, too - yet never managed to come to terms with it. When his children misbehaved, he beat them, usually with a belt or a switch of wood until his conscience kicked in, something which did not always happen sooner than fatigue. Never a happy child, the final straw for Pam had come on the day after her sixteenth birthday, when she'd stayed late at a church function and ended up going on what was almost a date with friends, feeling that she finally had the right to do so. There hadn't even been a kiss at the end of it from the boy whose household was almost as restrictive as her own. But that hadn't mattered to Donald Madden. Arriving home at ten-twenty on a Friday evening, Pam came into a house whose lights blazed with anger, there to face an enraged father and a thoroughly cowed mother.
'The things he said ...' Pam was looking down at the grass as she spoke. 'I didn't do any of that. I didn't even think of doing it, and Albert was so innocent... but so was I, then.'
Kelly squeezed her hand. 'You don't have to tell