What Looks Like Crazy Page 12

  “’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.”

&nbs
p; “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.

  Jay covered my cast with the plastic bag once more. He slowly pulled me to my feet, and I suddenly found my body flush against his: chest to chest, thigh to thigh. I looked up. His face was only inches from mine. Again our gazes locked. I held my breath and waited.

  “Katie?”

  “Thank you for coming to the hospital and for staying with me, Jay,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and maybe a little impersonal because I felt too crummy to add to my already complicated life. “I owe you.”

  Something in his eyes changed. “No problem.” Finally he stepped back.

  Mona had the phone tucked between her jaw and shoulder, and was scribbling furiously on a sheet of paper when I walked through the door. To an innocent bystander it would appear she was hard at work, but I only had to see the Gucci catalog to know that she was placing an order. She looked up long enough to give a meaningful nod toward my office.

  I almost dreaded what I might find. I walked inside and found Thad reclining on my sofa, reading my latest copy of Psychology Today.

  chapter 10

  As usual, Thad was immaculately dressed. He looked up, took me in from head to toe, and shook his head. “You don’t look so good, Kate. Heard you broke your wrist,” he added. “I hope that’s not the hand you use for you-know-what.” He gave me a hearty wink.

  I put my pocketbook on my desk and leaned against it. “How was the fishing trip?”

  He shuddered. “I’m still trying to get the smell of fish off my hands, but Thomas has decided not to sue Lucille for killing his hog. That is one mean woman. Could you imagine giving somebody like that the Rorschach test?”

  “Thanks for taking my calls.”

  Thad tossed the magazine aside and stood. He pulled a couple of slips of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Nobody threatened to leap off a bridge or anything while you were unconscious, but this lady Alice Smithers—” He gave me a look. “Sounds like a candidate for shock therapy. Fortunately I was able to use my great skill and charm to calm her down. She was a different woman by the time we hung up.”

  “She’s going through a difficult time,” I said.

  “Aren’t they all?” He handed me the messages. “I’ve put in two calls to Harold Fry, but he hasn’t called me back.”

  “I’m concerned about him,” I said.

  Thad shrugged. “He may be delusional at times, but he’s not dangerous.”

  “You didn’t have to drive all the way over to give these to me,” I said, indicating the pink message slips. “You could have saved a lot of time by calling.”

  Thad straightened his tie. “I figured I’d better check on you and see how badly you were hurt,” he said. “You look tired, Kate. You need a vacation, time to recuperate. And I know just the place.”

  “Yeah?”

  “A friend of mine has an exclusive spa less than three hours from here. In-room body massages, facials and wraps, and a world-renowned chef. A weekend of pampering, and you’ll be good as new. We could leave early this afternoon and drive back tomorrow night. That way I could beg off shooting skeet with Thomas.”

  “It sounds great, Thad,” I said, “but I can’t. My schedule is all screwed up after yesterday. And I’d really like to find Harold.”

  “The cops will call us when Harold decides to get naked in a parking lot someplace.”

  “I still can’t go away with you, Thad,” I said.

  He shook his head sadly. “You used to be a lot of fun, Kate.”

  I waited until I’d heard him leave through the reception room door before I ventured out of my office. I found Mona wearing a neck brace. I just looked at her. “Okay, I give up. What’s with the brace?”

  “I have an appointment with that hot new chiropractor on the sixth floor. Dr. Dan Manning,” she added. “The women refer to him as Dan the Man. I borrowed the brace from Mrs. Perez’s son-in-law, who suffered whiplash in an automobile accident. It’s my prop.”

  “Why do you need a prop?”

  “There are women going to him who are perfectly healthy. The guy isn’t an idiot. I’ll have to convince him I’m really injured, you know?”

  “What happens if he discovers there’s nothing wrong with you?” I asked.

  “I’ll think of something. I always do.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Uh-oh, I don’t want to be late for my appointment,” she said, standing and grabbing her purse. “Don’t worry about the phones; Nancy said she’ll answer them.”

  “Um, Mona?”

  She turned and glanced, questioning.

  “Do you think I’m not as fun as I used to be?” I asked.

  “You were more fun before you had your heart ripped apart.” She hurried out.

  Good old Mona. I could always count on her to make me feel better.

  I returned Alice Smithers’s call and agreed to see her at six p.m., which meant a long day. Then I noted that Cynthia Reed was due in an hour. When she arrived, she was holding a manila envelope. At least I saw nothing to indicate that she’d sneaked off to another plastic surgeon since her last visit. She noted my cast right away.

  “I tripped and fell on my wrist,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Will you have a scar?” she asked. “I can give you the name of an excellent cosmetic surgeon.”

  “No scar,” I assured her and motioned her to the sofa.

  “I wrote the letter to my father like you suggested,” she said once we were seated. “I told him how all those years of his watching everything my mom and I put in our mouths and making us weigh in every week made us feel bad about ourselves.”

  “Did it help?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I cried a lot. I didn’t realize how hurt I’ve been for so long.”

  “Do you feel like reading the letter to me?” I asked Cynthia.

  She nodded and pulled a sheaf of pages from the envelope. I eyed the thick stack and wondered how many pages she had actually written.

  “I wrote fourteen pages, front and back,” she said, as though reading my mind. “I didn’t want to leave out anything.” She cleared her throat. “‘Dear Asshole,’” she began.

  It took Cynthia the entire session to read her letter because she paused several times to cry. “I’m really proud of you for taking the time to write to your father,” I said. “How do you feel?”

  “I feel good about getting it off my chest, but I’m still angry at him. I want to tell him how I feel, because—” She paused in thought.

  “Because you want him to apologize and validate your feelings,” I said.

  She nodded. “Right.”

  “What if he doesn’t apologize?” I asked. “What if he pulls what you refer to as his pouting routine?” Cynthia looked uncertain. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t confront him, but that is no guarantee that it will turn out the way you want.”

  I’d se
en victims of all sorts of abuse confront those who’d hurt them. Although it worked well for the most part, I’d also watched abusers accuse their victims of lying or of making a big deal out of nothing. I’d watched them make excuses or blame others, and I’d watched them storm out of my office, outraged.

  “What do you think I should do?” Cynthia asked.

  “I think it’s perfectly reasonable to confront somebody who has hurt you,” I said, “and I hope you get what you feel you need. But you should be prepared. In the end it might come down to the fact that you have to love and accept yourself for who you are. It’s your opinion that counts.”

  “I think I can do that,” Cynthia said, “but I still want him to know that what he did was wrong. And the sooner the better,” she added.

  I reached for my appointment book.

  Mona was back at her desk, wearing the brace, when I led Cynthia from my office. “What happened to your neck?” Cynthia said. “Were you and Dr. Kate in the same accident?”

  “Not exactly,” Mona said.

  “I’ve scheduled Miss Reed to come in at three o’clock on Monday,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “I want to make sure you haven’t penciled anyone else in.”

  “Three o’clock is good,” Mona said, entering it in the appointment book she kept. She jotted the time down on one of my cards and handed it to Cynthia.

  I waited until Mona and I were alone before I asked about her appointment with Dan the Man.

  “Oh, Kate,” she whispered. “The guy is to die for. He has these chocolate eyes, and he smells sooo good. And guess what? I caught him looking at my legs twice.”

  “And he’s single, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s the first thing I looked for. No wedding ring, no pictures of a wife and kids. Of course, he makes up for it. He has pictures of his golden Labrador retriever everywhere.”

  “What was his diagnosis with regard to your injury?”

  “We just talked today. I’m scheduled to come in Monday for X-rays.” She suddenly frowned. “I wish you could have seen all the sluts sitting in his waiting room, not a darn thing wrong with them. I can’t wait till Monday. I’m going to buy a new outfit just for the occasion.”