Darkness Before Dawn (14 page)

The assistant district attorney must have been at a complete loss. She must have been
searching the air around her for something comforting to say. Evidently, nothing came
to her mind because her answer contained just two words, “I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” Meg coldly snapped. “He never even knew he was going to be
a father.”

“Mrs. Richards, Meg, if I may. Maybe we just need to let you think for a while on
what we’ve talked about today. Later, we can get together for lunch, or dinner if
that’s better for you. I’m pretty flexible this week. I can answer all your questions
and tell you what to expect from the trial.”

Rubbing her tears with her left hand, Meg composed her voice. “Sure, that sounds fine.
Supper on Thursday?”

“Seven o’clock all right?”

“That would be okay with me.”

“We’ll go casual, just someplace where we can get to know each other. I’ll pick you
up. My email is
[email protected]
. Just email me where you want to eat.”

Meg reached for a pad on the table and jotted down the address.

“Thanks,” she said as she tossed the pen down.

“Good-bye.”

Setting her phone down, Meg considered the fact that Thomas would likely pay very
little for what he had done. As she let that reality take root in her mind, an overwhelming
wave of nausea come over her. Jumping up, she ran for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, after the sickness passed, she washed her face and fixed herself
a big breakfast. In spite of the daily bouts with morning sickness, her appetite for
food had grown almost as large as her appetite for justice. As she ate enough for
two large men, she considered what she’d been told.

She wasn’t satisfied with the charges or the possible penalty that Jim Thomas faced,
but she was at least glad that there had been movement. If he spent some time in jail,
it would be a start. As she finished her third piece of toast, she resolved to first
get what she could out of the courts then take the rest her own way.

After a shower, a trip to the grocery store, some clothes shopping, and a late lunch,
Meg headed off to work. And today, she had something special to share with Heather.

M
EG
,” J
AN
G
REER
’
S VOICE WAS UNMISTAKABLE
. “Y
OU
’
RE LOOKING BETTER
today. More color. You finally licking that bug?”

“Maybe,” Meg replied as she took off her coat and prepared to check in. She wondered
how much longer she could hide the fact she was pregnant or maybe Jan knew and was
just being diplomatic. After all, it wasn’t that big a hospital, probably even the
janitor had heard by now.

“Glad you’re on the mend,” Jan stated as she began the routine of checking out. “A
lot of folks went home today and there were only a couple of admits. No cranks on
the wing, either. You’ll probably find this the easiest shift you’ve had in a long
time.”

“Good, I want an easy one. I’d like to sit back and watch the time go by for a while,”
Meg replied while she picked up the clipboard and waited for Heather to arrive and
verify the other nurse’s drug count. Finally, after five minutes of looking at the
door and waiting on Jan to finish, Heather walked in.

“Hey, gang. You waitin’ on me?” Anyone who heard Heather’s happy voice would have
known something good must have just happened. She was on top of the world. Jan piped
up first.

“What’s the story?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Heather replied, a huge smile belying her off-handed explanation.
Pulling off her coat, checking her hair in her compact, and then storing her purse
behind the counter, she finally offered, “Well, if you must know. Paul just asked
me to go skiing with him this weekend.”

“Hot mama,” Jan exclaimed as she left. Looking back over her shoulder she added, “You’ll
be the talk of the hospital for the next week. Way to go, Honey.”

An enormous grin covering her face, Heather turned toward her work. “Meg, you look
really nice tonight. Are you feeling better?”

“I tell you what,” Meg replied, sarcasm filling her tone. “I must have really looked
bad before. You’re the second person to say that to me tonight. But to answer the
question for hopefully the last time, yes. Except for a brief spell this morning,
I’ve felt good all day.”

Finishing their check-in count, the two prepared for the light routine promised them.
As they looked over charts and readied medication, Meg told Heather of her conversation
with the district attorney’s office. When she finished filling in the details, her
friend offered an observation. “It sounds like they’re really going to try to get
him.”

“I think they’ll do their best,” Meg agreed. “But it’s not enough. Steve’s life is
worth more than a bit of jail time and probation. You know, I hope that when I talk
with the assistant district attorney on Thursday, I can convince her of that too.
Maybe they can bring stiffer charges or something. I’ve been studying some cases online
today and there are people who serve as much as twenty years or more for things like
this. We need to go for the max!”

“I don’t know anything about law,” Heather answered. “But I think you’re right. I
agree that probation isn’t enough. But if that’s all you can get, then it’s better
than nothing.”

Turning so that her eyes met Heather’s, Meg, her tone suddenly bitter, shot back,
“Just barely better than nothing. But don’t worry, Heather. I’ll let the law get its
piece of Jim Thomas, and then I’ll take mine! One way or the other he will pay dearly.”

A muffled voice, a patient calling in over the room-to-nurse’s station intercom, ended
the conversation at that awkward point. “Excuse me, but could I have some ice?”

Checking the name on the Kardex that corresponded to the caller’s room number, Heather
made sure it had been approved, and then answered, “Sure, Nancy. I’ll get it in a
moment.” At that instant, another page came over the main intercom system. “Heather
Rodgers, you have a call on line three.”

“Meg, would you?” Heather looked at the ice bucket.

“I’ll take care of the ice,” Meg agreed. “You get your call. Ice
is
all right for her, isn’t it?”

Nodding her head as she picked up the phone, Heather punched line three and added,
“She’s in room 211.”

Meg, now halfway down the hall, ice bucket in her hand, waved, “Got it.” She could
hear Heather’s voice in the background but she didn’t note what her friend was saying.
She was far too busy daydreaming about a car careening out of control over a stone
wall.

H
I
, I
HOPE IT WASN
’
T TOO MUCH BOTHER?
”

The cheery voice that issued that equally cheery greeting in room 211 came from a
small, attractive, impish woman, who looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties.
She was sitting up in her bed, an open book in her lap. An iPod Touch in a speaker
box on a table next to the window played music by a female vocalist. Meg knew she’d
heard the singer before but at the moment she just couldn’t place the name.

“I’m Nancy.” A smile came with the introduction. “I don’t think I’ve met you, have
I?”

“No.” Meg’s reply, while not unfriendly, lacked the soothing warmth it would have
displayed a few weeks ago. “Where do you want the ice?”

“On the table will be fine. Let me see, your name tag says Meg, so unless you’re working
incognito, I assume that’s who you are.”

Nodding while not acknowledging the patient’s attempt at humor, Meg answered, “It
is actually Megan, but no one has ever called me that, except my mother when she’s
trying to make a point—which she does all too often.” After placing the
ice on the table next to a water pitcher, she asked, “Would you like some ice water?”

“That’d be nice,” Nancy replied. “Is the music too loud? I’ll turn it down if it is.
I love Sandi Patti so much that there are times when I get carried away with the volume.”

Of course! That’s the singer’s name. She and Steve caught her last summer at a concert
with the youth group from church. She was a gospel singer and a good one with almost
unlimited range. The kids had been impressed. Meg had even been moved enough to buy
one of her CDs. Where had she put it? Oh yeah, it had been in Steve’s car. That sobering
thought plunged Meg into a semitrance. There was another thing among hundreds now
missing from her life. Something else she wouldn’t get back along with goodnight kisses,
evenings out sitting across from each other at Dino’s, visiting antique shops, or
arguing about baby names. Just like the CD, all of that was gone.

Shaking herself back into the moment, she spun toward the patient only to realize
she was being studied. Nancy’s eyes were following every move she made. And that gaze
made her feel a bit uncomfortable. This woman seemed to be reading her, and at this
point, Meg didn’t want her life to be an open book.

Meg ambled toward the window and still the patient’s eyes followed. Trying to focus
on anything but the small woman in the bed, she tidied up a table, restacking a few
magazines then turned her attention to straightening a jacket that had been casually
tossed across a chair. From behind her, Nancy cleared her voice and repeated her question.

“The music? Is it too loud?”

Meg turned. “No, the music’s fine. Oh, I forgot to give you your water.” She hurried
to the table and retrieved the glass then moved quickly to the woman’s side. As the
patient took the water, the nurse studied her carefully for the first time.

With her perfectly applied makeup, immaculate nails, and stylish hair, Nancy really
looked more like a visitor than a patient. Her attitude and the strength in her voice
certainly didn’t indicate much illness either. So what was the problem? Meg made quick
survey in an attempt to ascertain the nature of the patient’s illness. Nothing jumped
out even to her trained eye. Outwardly, Nancy appeared very healthy. When she smiled,
she glowed and her skin color looked good. There were no tubes or IVs, and there was
no sign of any recent injuries. She wasn’t hooked up to any monitors either. As no
obvious symptoms came into view, Meg scolded herself for not taking a look at the
Kardex. That would have given her the answers she now wanted. Of course she could
look at the patient’s chart; it was right in front of her, but as all she did was
come in here to deliver ice that seemed unnecessary and rude.

“Are you new to this wing?” Nancy asked after she set the glass on the night table.

“It has been a while since I have worked over here,” Meg explained. “But I’m going
to be here for the rest of the week.” She wanted to ask Nancy, “Why do you care, anyway?”
but she bit her tongue.

“Where do you normally work?” This woman seemed more than a little too nosy. But she
also could be lonely, and in the past Meg had sought those patients out and tried
to bring some comfort to their world. This was just a lonely person desperate to make
conversation. Nancy was likely trying to hold Meg here so she wouldn’t be alone.

“Recently on the pediatric wing,” Meg informed her questioner, a bit of the old Meg
bubbling to the top. Pulling up a chair and taking a seat, she asked, “How are you
doing?”

“Feeling fine today. Thanks.” Nancy’s enthusiasm for conversation was obvious. There
was warmth in her eyes and her
smile came effortlessly. Her manner was not that dissimilar from what Meg’s had been
up until two weeks before.

“Wish all my patient’s felt great,” Meg replied.

“Pediatrics must be a bright place to work,” Nancy chimed in. “All those happy little
faces. I’m a teacher, or at least I used to be one. And I miss the kids. You know,
all their strange questions and unique observations. There’s nothing like a child
to remind you how wonderful life is.”

Meg marveled at the woman’s delivery. She could fire off a long string of words faster
than most people could utter a single sentence. And after just a tiny breath she continued.
“I would have loved to have children, but . . .” for the first time, a slight note
of sadness crept into the woman’s tone. Turning her eyes away from Meg and toward
the window, Nancy took a breath and continued, “But it just didn’t work out. Some
things don’t. And there are always reasons.”

As Meg studied Nancy, the patient once again turned her gaze back to the nurse, and
noting the wedding ring on Meg’s left hand inquired, “Do you and your husband have
any children? Maybe you have some pictures?”

A chill ran down Meg’s back. She’d never expected anyone to ask that question. Looking
away from Nancy, she got up, moved across the room, picked up a stack of old newspapers,
and placed them in the trash can. Without glancing back toward her patient, she turned
to the far wall and asked, “Would you like the shades raised?”

“No, they’re fine,” came the quick response. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.
I didn’t mean to. I guess I ask too many questions.”

Spinning toward the patient, Meg’s eyes met Nancy’s. Biting her lip, fighting back
tears, she almost walked past the woman and out of the room, but something kept her
there. It was like her feet were glued to the floor. For thirty seconds, the room
filled with an awkward silence then, not really understanding why, Meg lashed out.

“I don’t know why every patient thinks a nurse’s private life is her business. It’s
not. I’m tired of having people prying into my life. And I’m tired of people asking
me personal questions. I got your ice and unless you need something else there are
a lot of other patients on this wing who are obviously a lot sicker than you are.
So just let me do my job without the third degree. I’m here to be your nurse, not
your friend. If you want to talk to someone, pick up the phone and use it. But bother
someone else. Okay?”

As she finished, Meg rushed out of the room, not giving Nancy an opportunity to respond.