Love Overdue

by Pamela Morsi

  Forty-Two

  719.3 Natural Landscapes

  The morning began way too early. That was to be expected when the night before had ended so late. It was after 3:00 a.m. when D.J. had finally settled into bed. And even then, she was too keyed up to sleep. The kissing had been... wonderful. Heaven. The most exciting, titillating and agonizingly frustrating date of her life.

  He had told her to dream about him. And she did dream. In the fits and starts of her mostly sleepless night, dreams filtered through. But he was in none of them. It was all books. Rows of books. Carts of books. Mountains of books. She packed away title after title through the night. She packed them in big boxes. She packed them in little boxes. Boxes that were brown. And ones that were white. Boxes that were sturdy enough for heavy volumes and ones that were so flimsy they could hardly be lifted. Suddenly she realized that she’d forgotten Dew. That he’d somehow gotten sealed up in one of the boxes. Frantically she began calling his name and tearing into all the work that she’d accomplished. She had to find him. She had to find him.

  The alarm went off.

  D.J. sat up in bed, her heart pounding. She slammed down the ringer on the clock next to her and called out Dew’s name twice before she remembered that he was still downstairs with Viv.

  “Jeez!” she complained aloud.

  She put on coffee, awakened herself in the shower and dressed for work. There was so much to get done. Today they would start the actual move. Scott had said he would help. And she knew that James would do what he could. But it was her job, her library, her idea. So most of it would be on her.

  Half laziness and half practicality, she decided that the uniform of the day should be casual. Only ’50s TV housewives did grunt work in pearls and heels. D.J. dug through the mess that was to soon be her closet and came up with a nice pair of jeans and a top that was more tee than blouse. She almost went for strappy sandals that would make the outfit look dressier. But better judgment prodded her to slip on sneakers. At least they were cute and they kind of matched.

  She didn’t want to be late for work, she wanted to be early. James was probably already in the stacks. She wolfed down her coffee with a piece of cheese toast, then brushed her teeth one more time before heading out the door.

  On the deck stairs she deliberately kept her footfalls light. She didn’t know if she was ready to see Scott yet this morning. And she liked imagining him all warm and snuggly in a tousled bed.

  She could see that there was a light on in the kitchen as she passed. It really would be nice to see him. Talk to him. Share a cup of morning coffee with him. She could make the excuse of wanting to see Dew, but it would be obvious.

  No, she told herself firmly. She needed to get to the library. He’d promised to come by and help. She would hold him to that promise. And the rain check. Was she going to let him cash in that rain check?

  She felt herself blushing.

  That would be stupid. It was amazingly stupid. She shouldn’t even consider it. But she had offered. And it wouldn’t be the right thing to renege. She began grinning to herself even as she recognized the significant flaws in her reasoning.

  Scott had parked his van behind his mother’s purple Mini. D.J. had to walk around the vehicle to get to her hatchback on the far side. She was fishing through the bottom of her purse when she stepped on something. She didn’t have time to react before it reacted. In a blur of motion something wheat-colored lunged at her. It caught her ankle. More startled than hurt, she kicked at it. Almost simultaneously she recognized the attacker as a snake and the pain of the bite reached her brain.

  D.J. screamed bloody murder.

  She hopped twice on her good leg before falling onto the ground. The minute she hit she was suddenly terrified that there might be snakes everywhere. She tried to stand.

  Suddenly Scott was there. He grasped her shoulders and was helping her up.

  “What happened?”

  “Sn-snake,” she managed to get out, pointing in the direction of the grass.

  He immediately dropped her. D.J.’s butt hit the ground again as he went running toward the attacker’s escape route. Her concern for herself momentarily vanished as she watched him, naked except for blue boxer shorts, rushing toward the rattling sound that she could now distinctly hear.

  “You’re barefooted,” she warned him.

  Viv squatted down beside her. Dew went racing after Scott, barking dangerously.

  “Get back!” she heard Scott order her dog.

  Dew held his ground but didn’t venture farther.

  Scott turned. “It’s okay,” he hollered out as he came loping back toward her. “It’s okay.”

  “It was a snake,” D.J. said.

  He nodded. “Prairie rattler,” he told her as if that said everything. He turned to his mother. “Bring me a blanket and my cell phone. Car keys!”

  As Viv hurried off, Scott squatted down beside D.J. He seemed very calm. It was weird, almost as if he were purposely slowing down his movements. He gave her a wan smile. “I’d say good morning, but I guess it’s not.”

  “This really hurts,” she told him. “That snake bit me!”

  “I know,” he said. “It was a rattlesnake. But you’re going to be fine. I’m going to take you to Dr. Kim.”

  He got up and went around his van. D.J.’s brain was hardly functioning. Her foot and ankle felt as if they were on fire. Bending her knee she could examine the injury more closely. Two very distinct little wounds about an inch apart looked pretty innocuous. One was straight into her flesh. The other through the canvas of her sneaker. They were both small, but they really hurt.

  She heard Scott sliding open the side door of the van and rifling around inside. He returned to her a moment later wearing a disreputable pair of running shoes.

  He squatted down beside her. “Put your arms around my neck.”

  When she did, he slipped an arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. He carried her around to the vehicle’s passenger-side door where he’d scooted the seat back as far as it would go and made a little nest of boxes. He stretched her bitten leg out straight upon the cardboard tower held together with duct tape, turning her slightly inward to give her more room before buckling her seat belt on.

  “We want to keep your ankle elevated, but not higher than your heart,” he told her.

  She couldn’t stop herself from a cry of complaint as pain shot through her as he peeled off her sneaker.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Your foot’s beginning to swell. It’s either jerk the shoe off now or cut it off later.”

  D.J. nodded, but didn’t speak. She concentrated all her effort upon blinking back her tears and not howling like a crybaby.

  “I’m going to try to immobilize your leg,” he told her. “We want to keep the venom as localized as we can.”

  “Okay.”

  He used an Ace bandage and salvaged packaging materials to make her foot snugly unmoving in its cardboard splint.

  “I saw the snake. It was a prairie rattlesnake, not a diamondback. They are both poisonous snakes, but the prairie rattler is a lot less dangerous.”

  “Okay.”

  He looked directly into her eyes. He seemed so unruffled, so in control. “I need for you to remain as calm and quiet as possible,” he said. “This kind of thing is very scary and makes us all tend to panic. That raises the heart rate and gets the venom moving through the body much more quickly.”

  She nodded. “It’s not the really dangerous snake. It’s just the kind-of dangerous snake.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t think I like snakes.”

  “More people actually die from wasp and bee stings,” he said.

  “Well, I guess that’s good to know.”

  Viv showed up with a blanket in hand.

  Scott took it from her and began tucking it around D.J.

  “I thought the blanket was for you,” she said. “You know you’re not wearing pants.”r />
  “I’m sure that’s what the gossips will say,” Scott teased. “He hangs out with the new librarian and can hardly keep his pants on.”

  It hurt too much to laugh, but she managed a half smile.

  Scott leaned down outside and an instant later set a warm, black ball of fur into her lap.

  “Dew,” she said.

  “Pet the dog,” Scott told her. “It’ll keep your blood pressure down.”

  D.J. looked down into the big dark eyes. “I’m going to be fine,” she told him. But she wasn’t sure who was reassuring who.

  “I’m right behind you. As soon as I get dressed,” Viv promised.

  Clothing was apparently optional for the driver. Scott climbed behind the wheel. He started the engine and slowly backed up until he could turn around. As soon as he was headed forward, he picked up his cell phone and pressed a couple of buttons. It took only a half-minute before the call was answered. D.J. stroked Dew as she listened through the pauses to the one-sided conversation.

  “Morning. This is Scott. I’m on the way to your clinic with a snakebite.... No, it’s D.J. Jarrow, the new librarian.... Yes, I saw it myself. Prairie rattler.... Brown with darker blotches. Definitely not a diamondback.... I have some in the fridge at the store.... Most of the box, I think. Twelve, maybe fifteen vials.... Can I stop by on the way or should I circle back?”

  Scott turned to D.J. “How you feeling? Are you nauseated? Chilled?”

  “No. I feel okay, except for my leg.”

  “I think it’s still pretty localized,” he said into the phone.

  “Less than ten minutes ago... .Okay. Will do. See you shortly.”

  He ended the call and set the phone in a holder on the dash.

  “We’re going to stop by the drugstore and get you some medicine,” he told her. “And then we’re meeting Dr. Kim at the clinic.”

  That sounded good to D.J. She hoped the medicine would stop the burning in her foot and ankle. In fact, everything below the knee was beginning to sting like fire.

  “Did you hear the rattle before it bit you?” Scott asked her.

  “Huh? Uh... maybe.” D.J. tried to reconstruct the event in her mind. “No, I don’t think so. I think I stepped on him.”

  “Oh, good. That’s probably good.”

  “Why would it be good?”

  “I think they say that if the snake is hungry or angry it secretes more venom,” he said. “If you surprised him, he probably had less stored in his pit sacs than if he were out hunting.”

  “What was he doing there in the driveway?” she asked. “Are there snakes like that around everywhere?”

  “They live out in the wheat,” Scott answered. “They eat field mice and other rodents. We really don’t see that much of them. But I’m sure the combines chased him out last night. He found what he thought was a safe place and was waiting it out until the day got warm enough to go back home. He was as surprised to see you as you were to see him.”

  Somehow that didn’t make her leg feel any better.

  They made it to Main Street, which was still mostly deserted. Scott pulled the van to park the wrong direction next to the sidewalk in front of the drugstore. The vehicle straddled three angle parking spaces and turned on the emergency flashers.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised as he got out.

  D.J. hoped he wasn’t kidding. The pain in her leg was transforming from mere hellish burn to hellish burn plus throbbing ache. She continued to pet Dew, but closed her eyes, unable to bear his sympathetic expression.

  She opened them when a car pulled up to park directly nose to nose. D.J. recognized the man that she’d briefly met, but would have known him anyhow from the official county vehicle he was driving.

  Dressed in a uniform of two different colors of brown and sporting a belt that holstered both a radio and a sidearm, the policeman slowly walked up to the passenger side of the car. D.J. managed to roll down the window.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” he said in a deep voice that was both melodic and authoritarian. “What seems to be going on here?”

  “A snake bit me,” she answered.

  He glanced inside the van, taking note of her foot propped up on the tower of boxes.

  “Scott’s getting medicine and taking me to the doctor.”

  “Did you identify the snake?”

  “Prairie rattler,” she answered. “I didn’t really get a good look, but that’s what Scott said it was.”

  The cop nodded as the man under discussion came charging out of the drugstore building. He hesitated only long enough to lock the front door.

  “Does he know he’s got no pants on?” the deputy asked her quietly.

  “He was in a hurry,” she defended.

  “Hi, Karl,” Scott called out. “A rattlesnake got D.J.”

  “So I hear.”

  “Can you escort us to the clinic?”

  “Sure thing,” the man agreed and headed back to his own car at a more hurried pace.

  Scott stowed a bag in back of his seat before getting behind the wheel.

  “How you doing?” he asked her.

  “It really hurts,” she answered, no longer willing to feign bravery.

  “We’re almost there.”

  The flashing lights on the deputy’s car came on. He backed up enough to make a U-turn. And with the roar of a siren, they were back on the street, with Dew barking unhappily at the annoying sound.

  Forty-Three

  753.1 Symbolism, Allegory, Myth & Legend

  Scott’s heart was pounding, and it was not from the effort of carrying D.J. in through the clinic’s emergency room door. He’d been coming out of the bathroom, still groggy from a sleepless night, when he’d heard her scream. He could not have testified about how he got from his room to her side—that was a blur. But from the moment he realized what had happened, he had deliberately focused on training, not instinct. First aid and CPR were certifications required for registered pharmacists and especially helpful for those, like Scott, who were in rural areas where emergency medical assistance was limited.

  Thanks to Dr. Kim’s practice and the half-dozen qualified nurses who lived in the community, it was rare that Scott’s treatment skills were ever needed. But this morning he was very glad that he had them.

  The nursing assistant directed Scott to lay D.J. on the examining table. They propped pillows behind her back to maintain her reclining position. The women looked at the bite and using a black marker drew a line at the limit of the current swelling. On the line she wrote the current time.

  The nurse was friendly. “I’m going to need to start an IV,” she told D.J. “I’m not sure your puppy needs to be around for that.”

  D.J. still held the dog in her arms. Scott had been loath to take him from her, but when a room was going for sterile, it was pretty clear that no pets were allowed.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Scott told D.J. “I’ll give him to my mom as soon as she gets here.”

  He was surprised to discover Karl right behind him. “I can do that,” he said, taking the dog from Scott. “Thanks.”

  Karl directed his next words to the nurse. “If you need me to radio the ambulance or the helicopter, I’m right outside the door.”

  She nodded her thanks.

  “Ma’am,” the deputy said, offering a tip of his hat in D.J.’s direction. “Hope you’re feeling better soon.”

  Without Dew to comfort her, Scott felt honored that D.J. reached for his hand. From the moment this had happened, all he’d wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her close. That wasn’t going to happen. Like the sexually unsatisfactory night before, there were things in life that required specific timing. He had to see her on the road to recovery before he could take the time to hug her and tell her he loved her.

  He loved her. That thought came as a surprise. But he had no time to dwell on its validity.

  Dr. Kim came around the corner and greeted them both. He looked askance at Scott’s ward
robe choice.

  “There’s scrubs out in the linen cabinet next to the workstation,” he said, more as an order than a suggestion. “I don’t think having young, near-naked guys running around does the reputation of my clinic any good. And if one of my dear senior ladies in the waiting room were to catch sight of you, well, some of them have heart issues.”

  Scott managed a smile. If the doctor thought D.J. was in deep trouble, he wouldn’t care what anybody was wearing.

  He quickly retrieved the comfortable blue cotton clothes. But he was unwilling to leave D.J. long enough to put them on. He carried them back to dress at her bedside. In truth, he’d completely forgotten that he was still in his underwear. He kicked off his shoes and hurriedly pulled on one leg and then hopped a couple of times as he put on the other. He tied them at the waist and put his running shoes back on.

  “I was in such a hurry,” he admitted to the nurse, who was eying him disapprovingly as he jerked the shirt over his head. “I didn’t want to take the time to dress.”

  “Well, you did the right thing,” Dr. Kim said. “Time is critical.”

  Scott nodded.

  The man had a calming, fatherly presence that was undoubtedly an asset on the job. He whisked the curtain around them, turning the open examining area into a much smaller private space. He pushed up D.J.’s pant leg and examined the wound for a moment before measuring the distance from the distal vein to the edge of the swelling. He offered her a comforting smile.

  “We’ll need to draw some blood,” he said to D.J. Then to the nurse he clarified. “I’ll need a CBC with platelets, PT, PTT and Fibrinogen.” He spoke to D.J. again. “When’s the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “Well, then, we’re going to give you another one.”

  D.J. didn’t seem to care much about that. She was flinching and biting her lip as the doctor moved her foot around, getting a good look from all directions.

  “Do you think we can remove your jeans, or would you like the nurse to cut them off?” he asked.