by Lyn Gardner
Chapter Thirty
Judy sat with her elbows resting on her knees, staring at the floor. It wasn’t the typical color found in a hospital. Instead of a muted pattern of varying shades of white, below her feet was a checkerboard of bright blue and yellow squares, but the vibrant backdrop did nothing to hide the flecks of color that did not belong. It was those flaws that held Judy’s attention. Although some were smudged by feet and others, smeared by wheels, from the emergency entrance to the exam room was a trail of dark red.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been fifty-two minutes since she first sat down in the chair opposite the exam room. Fifty-two minutes of listening to the click of the second hand as it made its way from one hash mark to the next. Fifty-two minutes of worrying. Fifty-two minutes of envisioning the worst. Fifty-two minutes sitting in a medical center with Robin’s blood on her hands, on her jeans, and on her shoes.
“I brought you some coffee.”
Judy jumped in her seat and then slowly looked up at Officer Kyle Ramon. The son of the dockmaster, she first met him when he was ten years old. He was spindly then and with a headful of unruly curls, and braces covering his teeth, he’d stand by his father’s side on the dock in the summer, learning a trade he’d eventually leave behind when law enforcement began to interest him more. She had acted as his tutor for a few summers, using her education to broaden his, and over the years as his shoulders grew broader and inches were added to his height, their friendship continued, slipping effortlessly into one between two adults.
As Judy gazed into Kyle’s familiar green eyes, she could still see the little boy she once raced on bikes around the island, and that memory brought the thinnest of grins to her face. “Thanks,” she whispered as she took the cup, and welcoming the heat seeping through the paper, Judy took a sip of the steaming coffee.
Kyle had been at the station when her call came in, and hearing the frantic tone in Judy’s voice, he jumped into the black-and-white SUV and made his way to the medical center. No crime had been committed, and no law had been broken, but Mackinac was a close-knit community, and friends need friends at times like these.
Open only during regular business hours, when Kyle arrived at the clinic, the doors were still locked. He paced in the darkness and drizzle until two people pedaled up on bikes, and while he recognized both, no pleasantries were exchanged as they rushed to prepare for an incoming patient. A couple of minutes later, the ambulance arrived. What transpired after that was a well-orchestrated scramble, as the doctor, nurse, and two EMTs did what they were trained to do, and rushing Robin into an exam room, they closed the door and got to work.
Kyle had been stunned to see the amount of blood on Robin’s face, but he didn’t allow his shock to show. Instead, he did what friends do. He assured Judy that all would be okay. He tried his best to downplay what appeared to be a serious injury, but the anguish of the unknown was etched into Judy’s face, and as Kyle returned to his seat next to her, he couldn’t help but notice that those lines were getting deeper by the minute.
“She’s going to be all right, Judy,” he said softly. “She was starting to wake up when they wheeled her in there. That’s a good sign.”
“I hope so,” Judy whispered. “There was just so much—”
Judy’s train of thought changed in an instant when the door to the exam room opened. Leaping to her feet, she rushed over to the doctor. “Liv, how’s Robin? Is she going to be all right?”
Dr. Olivia Ingram smiled. “She’s going to be just fine, Judy. Typical head wound. Lots of blood, but thankfully not a lot of injury. It looked a hell of a lot worse than it actually was.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Dr. Ingram said with a nod. “She’s going to have one hell of a headache for a few days, and with all the scrapes and bruises, plus a sprained wrist, she’s going to be sore for a little while, but Robin knows who she is, where she is, and she explained what happened. All signs lead me to believe that while she has a mild concussion, there’s no permanent damage.”
“Oh, thank God,” Judy said, slumping against Kyle. “I was so scared. I thought any minute you were going to have to airlift her out of here.”
“When I first saw her, that thought did cross my mind, but she’s going to be fine,” Dr. Ingram said, placing her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, you didn’t by chance bring her a change of clothes, did you? We had to cut off what she was wearing.”
“Clothes? Um...no. I...I didn’t think about clothes.”
“Well, we still have a few things to finish up. Why don’t you go and grab her some, and by the time you get back, we should be almost done.”
“Wait. Are you saying Robin can come home tonight?”
“Yes, Judy. She can go home tonight.”
***
It was a night of firsts for Judy. It was the first time she had ever called 911. It was the first time she had ever ridden in the back of an ambulance, and it was the first, second, and third time she had ever been in a police car.
“I can’t thank you enough for being my taxi tonight,” Judy said, glancing at Kyle in the front seat.
Kyle Ramon looked in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry about it, Judy. I’m just glad I could help, and besides, she doesn’t look in any shape to ride in the back of a carriage tonight.”
“True,” Judy said quietly and looking over at Robin, Judy placed her hand on her knee. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Robin said in a whisper. “I’m just...I’m just tired. My head hurts.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Okay.”
“Is she doing all right?” Kyle asked, looking in the mirror again.
“Yeah. Just worn out.”
It wasn’t long before the police-issue SUV came to a stop in front of Safe Harbor. Judy glanced over at Robin, and thankful she wasn’t attempting to exit on her own, Judy unbuckled her seatbelt and went to open the door, only to end up chuckling under her breath when the handle didn’t move.
Kyle smiled, hearing Judy’s failed attempt to escape. “They only open from the outside, Jude. Hold on.” A few seconds later, Kyle opened the door and held out his hand. “Watch your head.”
“Thanks,” Judy said, and stepping out of the heated car, the cold air took Judy’s breath away. “Wow, I can’t believe how fast the temperature is dropping.”
“And it’s starting to get slippery, too, so be careful,” Kyle said, closing the door. “You okay if I get the other door?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Judy said, looking down at the glistening pavement. “I’m fine.”
The rain had stopped an hour before, but the frigid night air had turned what was left behind into an ultra-thin coating of black ice. Twice, Judy slipped as she made her way around the SUV, and by the time she reached the sidewalk, Kyle already had Robin standing safely on the frozen lawn.
“I figured the grass was safer than the sidewalk,” he said as Judy approached. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll help you get to the porch before I go.”
“We don’t mind,” Robin said quietly, looking up at the man standing next to her. “I think I’ve fallen enough for one day.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Judy said, grinning as she hooked her arm through Robin’s. “Now, let’s get you inside.”
***
Judy guided Robin into the bedroom and flicked on the light. “Where do you keep your pajamas?”
“What?”
“Your pajamas. Where do you keep them?”
“Oh...um...hanging...hanging on the back of the door.” Robin swiveled to point, but the simple movement seemed to spin the entire room. She reached out for the chest of drawers to steady herself at the same time she felt Judy wrap her arm around her waist.
“Okay, no more sudden movements for you,” Judy said, motioning to the bed. “You need to sit down.”
“I’m fine. It’s just...it’s just my head,” Robin said, wincing as another invisible hammer crashed against
her skull.
At a turtle’s pace, Judy got Robin to the bed, and once she was sitting down, Judy rearranged the pillows until they were piled against the headboard. “Here, lie back.”
“But I need to change.”
“And you will, just not right now,” Judy said, patting the pillows. “Right now, you’re going to relax while I go get you something for that headache. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Robin whispered, and pivoting enough to rest against the mass of down and foam, as soon as the softness swallowed her, she closed her eyes.
Convinced Robin didn’t have the strength to do anything falling under the heading of stupid, Judy left the room, and when she returned Robin hadn’t moved an inch. Sitting on the bed, Judy opened the bottle of ibuprofen and tapped out two tablets. “Here you go.”
Robin opened her eyes long enough to pop the pills in her mouth, and after washing them down with the water Judy had handed her, Robin gave back the glass and then closed her eyes again. “Thanks.”
“No problem. This should help, too.”
Robin jumped when she felt something wet and cold against her forehead. “What—”
“Relax. It’s just a washcloth. It’ll help. Trust me,” Judy said, keeping her hand lightly pressed against the cloth. “Just give it a few minutes.”
One minute turned into two and then into three until Robin finally opened her eyes again. “You’re right. It does help.”
“Imagine that,” Judy said softly, taking the washcloth away. “I’m going to go run this under some cold water again. Be right back.”
While Judy was in the bathroom, Robin pushed herself into a sitting position. She dangled her feet over the side of the bed and waited for the crescendo in her brain to announce itself again. A few seconds passed before Robin let out a long, slow breath, the distant throb in her temples nowhere near as blinding as it had been.
“What are you doing?”
Robin looked in Judy’s direction. “I need to get changed.”
“You feel up to it?”
“Yeah.”
“All right,” Judy said, and draping the cloth over the water bottle, she knelt at Robin’s feet and began untying the laces of her sneakers.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” Judy said, looking up. “Because if you bend over, all the blood is going to rush to your head, and you’re going to be right back where you were a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, that would be bad.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Judy said, tugging off Robin’s shoes. Tossing them near the closet, Judy retrieved the pajamas from the hook on the back of the bedroom door. “Do you need my help with these?” she said, holding up the gray and blue flannel.
“No,” Robin said, and inching toward the edge of the bed, she placed her feet on the floor and stood up. “I think I should be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll take my time.”
“All right,” Judy said, placing the pajamas on the bed. “I put some water on for tea, so I’ll go check on that and give you some privacy. Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
Robin appreciated Judy’s choice in clothing as soon as she undid the tie to her sweatpants. She wasn’t sure if Judy knew they were her baggiest pair, but as soon as the drawstring was loosened, the gray pants puddled around her feet. With one hand on the bed and the other on the nightstand, Robin stepped out of the fabric, and sitting down, she ever so slowly drew the flannel pajamas bottoms up her legs. Robin frowned at the patchwork of bandages covering her shins and knees, concealing the scrapes she had received earlier that night, but there was no hiding the splotches of purple appearing here and there, and everywhere.
Taking a deep breath, Robin got to her feet again, and unzipping the hoodie, she slowly shrugged out of it. With her right hand wrapped in an elastic bandage, Robin had no choice but to use her left, and as she repeatedly tried and failed to unclasp her bra, the temperature in the room seemed to increase.
“Shit,” Robin said under her breath. There was no way in hell she wanted Judy to assist her with this task, so picking up the pajama top, she was about to put it on when she heard a gasp. Robin glanced over her shoulder and saw Judy standing near the door holding a cup of tea.
“My God, Robin, how many times did you fall?” Judy said, gawking at the bandage covering Robin’s left shoulder blade and the impressionistic painting of red, blue, and purple bruises covering the other.
“Honestly? I don’t know. Four, five...it could have been more. It all kind of ran together after a while.”
“Jesus.”
“But I’m okay, Judy. Just some bruises and a few cuts,” Robin said, easing her arm into the pajama top.
Judy tipped her head to the side. “It’s none of my business, but do you always wear your bra to bed?”
“No, I don’t, but I’m right-handed, and I’m not ambidextrous.”
Judy knew the feeling. Playing a game of tag football during college, a bad stumble ended with Judy’s wrist in a cast for two months. It was a lesson Judy hadn’t expected to receive while in school, but at the end of those eight weeks, although her right hand was still her dominant one, the left had stepped up and made her proud.
“I see,” Judy said, and going over, as she placed the tea on the nightstand, she reached out and deftly undid the clasp on Robin’s bra with her left hand. “Luckily, I am.”
As soon as the fastener was free, Judy quickly moved away to give Robin privacy.
Robin was sore. She was tired. She was embarrassed, and her head hurt like a mother, but Robin wasn’t dead, and neither was her sex drive. The feel of Judy’s fingers on her skin sent a pulse of awareness through her body stronger than any ache or pain Robin owned, and her face reddened instantly. As fast as she could, she donned the pajama top, and climbed under the sheets on her bed, pulling up the covers until they were under her chin. “All done.”
Judy returned to the bed and looked down at the woman snuggled under the blanket. “How’s the headache?”
“Dull, but bearable.”
“Well, just in case you need it, the bottle of ibuprofen is right next to your tea.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Is there anything else I can get you? An extra blanket? More pillows?”
“No. I think I’m set for now.”
Judy stared wordlessly at Robin for a moment before patting her leg. “All right then. You get some sleep, and I’ll see you a little later.”
Judy was almost to the door when Robin called out, “Judy.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any regrets?”
Judy paused and then slowly walked over to stand near the bed. “I suppose I have a couple. Why?”
“Most of mine revolve around Pam. I was so stupid, so—”
“Robin, stop,” Judy said, again placing her hand on Robin’s leg. “Now’s not the time for that. You’ve beaten yourself up enough today without adding to it. You need rest, and you need to heal.”
“I thought I was healed,” Robin said under her breath.
“Healing takes time, and I don’t know what went on between you and that woman, but there’s no point in rehashing it right now. Now, all you need to do is get some sleep. Okay?”
“Okay,” Robin said, closing her eyes.
“Sleep well, Robin,” Judy said, and reaching over she turned off the bedside lamp before heading to the door.
“Judy.”
“Yeah?” Judy said, glancing over her shoulder.
“Be careful going home.”
A sliver of a grin appeared on Judy’s face. “I will,” she said, and leaving the door opened a crack for the cats to come and go, Judy went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
***
Judy’s eyes fluttered open, and pushing aside the blanket, she sat up and rubbed the back of her neck. She moved her head back and forth, working out the stiffness that sleep
ing on a sofa can bring, and clearing her throat, she got to her feet and softly padded to Robin’s bedroom.
She had checked on Robin practically every hour since they’d come home. Twice, the only occupants of the bed were Fred and Ginger, but a closed bathroom door provided Judy with the answer she was seeking. Other than that, under the blankets pulled to her chin, Robin had slept. And even though the level of the tea in the cup hadn’t changed, Judy had refilled the glass of water more than once.
Judy crept into the bedroom, and after glancing at the closed bathroom door, she gathered the cup of cold tea and backtracked to the kitchen where she set up the coffee maker and put on some water to boil before making use of the powder room in the office.
When she returned, Judy opened the fridge for some juice, but before she could grab it from the shelf, she felt Fred and Ginger rubbing against her legs. “You hungry, guys?” she said, looking down at the cats at her feet. Her answer came in a chorus of meows. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
A few minutes later, Judy was doing her best imitation of the Pied Piper as she walked into the dining room carrying two bowls of wet food and one of dry. “There you go, guys.”
Before Judy could fully straighten, Fred and Ginger began lapping up their helpings of today’s selection which, according to the can, was salmon pâté. Hearing the squeak of hinges, Judy peeked around the corner of the dining room and for a split-second, she smiled. Robin was standing in the doorway looking far better than she had the night before. Most of the color had returned to her face, and the dark circles under her eyes had faded, but then Judy noticed something else and whatever color Robin lacked in her face found its way to Judy’s. “I cannot believe you!”
“What?” Robin said, looking around. “What did I do?”
“Your hair’s wet.”
“Yeah, that usually happens when I take a shower.”
“Robin, the doctor specifically said you had to wait forty-eight hours, and it hasn’t even been twelve.”
“Yeah, well the doctor didn’t have dried blood in her hair,” Robin said, shrugging. “And besides, I was careful. No harm done.”
