Stripped (2 page)

Read Stripped Online

Authors: Brenda Rothert

BOOK: Stripped
10.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Good morning,” Marla said, flipping through folders
in a filing cabinet.

“Do you need me to find something?” Abby asked.

“No, I’ve got it. How was your weekend?”

“Good. How about you?”

“It was nice. Jack took me out to dinner Saturday
night and I read all day yesterday.”

Abby admired Marla’s charcoal designer suit. Her
boss was in her 50’s, but she dressed well and looked much younger. Though Abby
thought Marla would look even better if she’d stop bleaching her hair blond,
she’d never mention it.

“Did you hear about Andy and Erica?” Marla asked in
a whisper.

“I don’t hear anything around here,” Abby said. Andy
and Erica worked in the accounting department with Marla and Abby, but their
offices were on another part of the floor.

“Marlin caught them screwing in the copy room,”
Marla said in a low tone.

“No! Seriously?”

“Yes. And it wasn’t just ordinary sex. He was in her
back door, if you know what I mean.”

Abby stifled a laugh, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“How embarrassing,” she said.

“Yeah, but they didn’t even get reprimanded. Marlin
just told them both to get back to work. It happened at the end of the day
Friday. I heard Erica had a wet spot on the back of her skirt when she left
that night.”

“No,” Abby said, her eyes wide.

“Ask Pam, she saw it…Hey, I could use your help with
some stuff for my meeting with Walton at 10 if you have time.”

“Of course I have time, I’m your assistant.”

“I got lucky when you came in here looking for a
job, Abby,” Marla said, still rifling through the files.

“I’m the lucky one, Marla. My other boss makes me
get a bikini wax every week.”

 

A shrill ringing sound jolted Abby awake. She
clapped her hand against her alarm, but the noise continued. When she realized
what it was, a sinking feeling seized her chest as she jumped from the bed.

“Mom, I’m coming!” she called as she rushed into the
hallway. They had only been in the new house a few weeks, and Abby wasn’t used
to moving around in the darkness yet. Fear raced through her as she felt her
way along the wall to the doorway of her mother’s room.

Her mother Kathy sat on the edge of the bed, gasping
for air as she struggled to breathe. Justin was just a few steps behind Abby,
responding to the alarm they had given their mother to sound for a medical
emergency.

“She’s bad,” Abby said quickly. “I’m taking her to
the Emergency Room.”

“I’ll get her into the car while you get dressed,”
Justin said, sitting down next to Kathy on the bed.

Abby pulled on a pair of old gray sweats and a dark
t-shirt, not bothering to see which shirt it was. She slipped into flip flops
and a jacket and grabbed her purse on her way out the kitchen door. It was good
that Sara and Audrey hadn’t woken up, she thought. They would have been scared
to see their mother in such distress.

She had practiced driving to Benedict Hospital to
prepare herself for the first trip, but Abby’s eyes strained to find the right
route in the darkness. The rasp of her mother’s labored breathing unnerved Abby
as she drove.

“We’ll be there soon, Mom,” she said soothingly.
“Just hang in there.”

Abby sighed with relief when she saw the glow of the
red lights outlining the name of the hospital’s emergency room. She pulled up
near the front door and ran around to help Kathy out.

The clusters of people in the waiting room were
quiet, most of them focused on a late-night talk show on a television suspended
from the ceiling.

“She has a chronic breathing disorder and needs help
right away,” Abby said to the woman at the front desk.

“Have you been here before?”

“No.”

“You’ll need to fill this out, front and back of all
pages…”

“She can’t breathe! I’ll fill out the paperwork, but
she needs to see someone now!”

The woman looked skeptical as she eyed Kathy.

“I’ll bring a wheelchair for her,” a young nurse
said, sticking her head around the corner.

“Thank you,” Abby said, relieved.

She started the paperwork as the nurse examined her
mother in a curtained room. Abby’s eyes were drawn to the measurement from the
pulse oximeter. She knew what the numbers meant after dozens of trips to
doctors and hospitals with her mother.

“That’s low,” she said to herself.

“I’ll start her on some oxygen, that should help,”
the nurse said, giving Abby a reassuring smile.

Abby glanced at her mother, distracted, and the pen
she was using clattered to the linoleum floor. She went down to retrieve it from
beneath the bed and saw a pair of gray tennis shoes come through the doorway.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Reneau,” a deep voice said. Abby stood
and stifled a gasp as she found herself face to face with the blond man who had
declined a dance from her Friday night.

Her mother tried to greet him, but could only manage
a choked exhale.

“Kathy,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t try to talk right now. Let’s see what’s going on with you.”

He pressed a stethoscope to her back and listened.
Abby popped up from her spot near the floor, slinking into a chair and wishing
she could be invisible.

“Hi,” Dr. Reneau said in her direction. “Are you
Kathy’s daughter?”

“Yes,” Abby said, her voice high. She could feel the
warmth in her face as she flushed with embarrassment. If he recognized her, he
showed no sign of it.

He pulled the stethoscope away, letting it drop
absently to his chest. As he eyed her mother’s chart, Abby prayed silently that
he wouldn’t recognize her.

“Your lung function is impaired,” he said, meeting
Kathy’s eyes. “I’m going to have someone from Respiratory give you some tests
and treatment, okay?”

Kathy nodded, but Abby saw fear in her mother’s
eyes, and she jumped from the chair to stand next to her.

“They’re going to help you, Mom. It’s okay,” she
said soothingly, rubbing her mother’s back. Kathy dragged in a breath and
looked at her daughter, tears shining in her eyes.

“Would you like something to help you relax?” Dr.
Reneau asked gently. Kathy nodded as she reached a finger up to wipe a tear
from the corner of her eye. It pained Abby to see her mother scared. She knew
the situation was bad, because normally Kathy was not quiet and compliant.

 

 

Chris ducked out of the way as a crew of paramedics
hustled a rolling bed down the hallway.

“Dr. Reneau!” a nurse called from her station. “Your
x-rays and labs are back on seven.”

“Thanks,” he said, typing into the tablet he
carried. “I need meds administered in three, here’s the order.”

“Hey, Chris,” a low voice called conspiratorially.
Chris turned to see Reed Stern, his friend and fellow doctor, peeking at him
from around the corner. He looked rushed, his dark hair askew. “Crazy Kelly’s
looking for you.”

“Christ,” Chris muttered, shaking his head. He was
beginning to feel like a stalking victim. Dating a nurse from work had been a
mistake he deeply regretted. They had only gone out twice and slept together once
when she’d suggested they move in together. She’d said they could get used to
each other before they got engaged. He had told her he didn’t want that and had
broken things off, but Kelly hadn’t accepted it. It had been a month, and she
still pursued him at every chance.

“Were you in on that knife in the chest?” Reed
inquired.

“Yeah, I was in the room, but I didn’t get to work
on him. Jackson did an impressive job on it,” Chris said.

“Hey, Chris!”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he
heard Kelly’s high-pitched voice. He said nothing as she approached.

“How about breakfast when you’re off?” she said,
leaning against the counter just inches from him.

“No.”

“Dinner tomorrow? We need to talk things out,” Kelly
said, her dark ponytail swishing as she nodded for emphasis.

“There’s nothing to talk out. We went out a few
times, and while I think you’re a nice person, I’m not interested in us going
out anymore.”

“Well, we’re still friends, right? Friends need to
spend time together.”

“No, we’re not friends. We didn’t even know each
other before I said I’d go out with you. I’m really busy, and it’d be best if
you would stay on the cardio floor,” Chris said dismissively.

Kelly left with a huff and Chris sighed. Every
effort he’d made to tell her he didn’t want to see her anymore had failed. This
was why it was good not to get involved in a relationship to begin with, he
thought.

 

Chris stuck his head around the door frame and met
Abby’s eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asked, nearly whispering to keep
from disturbing Kathy, who was resting. Abby leapt up from her seat anxiously.
She stopped just before she made it to the door. What if he remembered her? She
cringed at the thought that he wanted to talk to her about being a stripper. Maybe
a lecture on promiscuity. It would be a waste of breath on Abby, who hadn’t been
with a man in more than two years.

She steeled herself as she followed him down a
hallway to a door with a brown faux wood sign proclaiming it “Conference Room
E2”.

“Soda? Coffee?” he asked, pausing at a station
outside the conference room to pour himself coffee from a pot. Abby shook her
head solemnly.

He held the door and she walked through, nervous as
she took a seat at the long table.

“You doing okay?” he asked as she eyed him warily.
He sank into the chair next to hers, turning to face her.

“I’m fine. Just worried about my Mom,” she said.

“I know. I didn’t want to upset her by asking this,
but are you sure she’s quit smoking? She said she has, but we usually don’t see
such rapid deterioration with her condition unless the patient is still
smoking.”

Abby sighed and shook her head.

“I do my best to keep her from smoking. My brother
and I are the only ones in the house who could buy her cigarettes, and we
don’t. But I think one of her friends sneaks them to her while I’m at work.”

“Does she understand how serious her condition is,
and how detrimental smoking is?” he asked with a look of incredulity.

“Her doctor has told her many times, and I remind
her every time I smell smoke in her room. I don’t know what else to do,” Abby
said, pressing a hand to her forehead with frustration.

“Are you her caregiver?”

“Yes, for the most part. My brother helps me, but
he’s in college. One of us tries to be there all the time, but we sometimes
can’t be.”

“She doesn’t need round the clock care right now. What’s
your situation? Do you have other help and support?”

“I have my brother.”

“So it’s just you and him and your Mom?”

“And my two younger sisters.”

“There are resources out there to help. People who
can come in and help with your Mom’s care when you need a break.”

Abby laughed, looking out the window at the lights
of an adjacent building.

“I don’t take breaks. I’ve been doing this for a
while, and I do okay. But thanks for your concern, I appreciate it,” she said,
looking back at him. His stubble matched his dark gold hair, and Abby couldn’t
help but admire him. Sam was right – he did look like a Greek God.

“Have we met before? You’re so familiar to me,” he
said, studying her. Abby’s heart raced. She didn’t want to admit she was the
stripper he had refused a lap dance from. In fact, she didn’t want him to know
she was a stripper at all. He would look at her differently then, as everyone
who knew did.

“I don’t think so. We just moved here recently,” she
said.

“Hmm.” He glanced down at his pager, which was lit
with a message. “Well, your Mom will be ready to go soon. I’m giving you the
number here and I want you to call if you have any questions or problems, okay?
If you reconsider the assistance with care, I can put you in touch with
someone.”

He handed her a scrap of paper and Abby stuffed it
in her pocket as he stood and extended his hand.

“It was very nice to meet you…?” he said, trailing
off and looking at her.

“Abby,” she said. “Thanks for taking care of my Mom.
I was really scared this time.”

She scurried through the door he held open, anxious
to get away before he remembered why she was familiar.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said, heading
away from him. He waved and moved down the hallway. Abby followed him with her
eyes, admiring the way his white coat stretched across his broad back and
shoulders. She sighed as she turned toward the bathroom.

Other books

Blood Trails by Sharon Sala
A Writer's People by V. S. Naipaul
If These Walls Had Ears by James Morgan
Never Say Die by Carolyn Keene
I Can See in the Dark by Karin Fossum
A Slow-Burning Dance by Ravenna Tate
Blessed Isle by Alex Beecroft