SEEING DEAD THINGS: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel (Roxie’s Midlife Adventures Book 1)

by Leigh Raventhorne

  Maybe he was at work. He was a skilled tradesman at one of the local General Motors plants. It seems like he could have gotten the time off to be here, though. Maybe he’d already been and gone? As these thoughts flitted through my mind, I felt a strange flash of fear, and my stomach clenched.

  The nurse did a few final checks on the numerous wires and tubes coming from, well, every part of my person it seemed, and then left.

  “As soon as the doctor gets his very fine butt in here and talks to us, we can figure out a decent way to communicate. I brought you a tablet and an e-pen, so maybe that will work better for us now that you’ve got your hands back. One of the evening shift nurses said it can take some practice to learn to speak with the jaw hardware. And they have internet here! It’s slow internet, but hey, it might help stave off boredom.”

  I made a weird snorting attempt at a laugh and nearly choked. My bestie didn’t always sound like the top notch lawyer she was. She looked tired, though. I wondered how long she’d been here by my side. It sounded like I had been here for—what, a week and a half maybe? I held my hand out and mimed writing.

  She rifled through the attaché next to her and pulled out a tablet, charger, and one of the pen thingies—an e-pen?—for it. Ugh. Sure, I was almost 41 years old, but I didn’t consider myself technologically challenged. I had a degree in journalism from MSU and had worked in the court system in one capacity or another for well over a decade until Steven had pushed for me to stay home. Seriously though, what was wrong with good old pen and paper?

  Sam continued, “There are some books loaded on here, too, plus my Kindle Unlimited account. You can read when you feel up to it. Download anything you want. Oh, and there are cards and flowers here from Annie, Tess, and all the girls from the office. Cammie even made you a card.”

  My eyes teared up a bit at that. Annie had been Sam’s housekeeper for nearly as long as I had known Sam. She was also a great friend to us both, as was Tess. Cammie was Annie’s special needs daughter who had stolen all of our hearts from the day she was born. She had a heart just as big as her mother’s.

  “The girls stopped up to see you, but you were still out of it. They’ll probably wait until you’re out and have had a chance to recover a bit before they converge on you.”

  Sam was almost babbling—and she was not a babbler. She had also been sneaking furtive glances at the door the whole time she was talking. What was up with that?

  Chapter 3

  Sam looked over at the door as someone else walked in. Luckily, I was at an angle that I could kind of see the door. This no-turning-my-head thing was already annoying after only twenty minutes of being awake.

  “Great! You’re awake! How’s our patient today?” the young man—who looked as though he might have been in his very early thirties—asked with a beaming smile. Yes, beaming. I had always thought of that term as an exaggeration until now. If I could have turned my head away from that one thousand kilowatt smile, I would have.

  Without waiting for an answer, he pulled a pen light out of his pocket and proceeded to blind me as he thumbed my eyelids up and shined it into them several times.

  “Good pupil response,” he murmured. “How’s the pain level today?”

  Automatically, I start to answer. To my absolute horror, I felt drool running down my chin.

  Without missing a beat, he gently wiped it away with a tissue he produced from somewhere outside my periphery.

  “Don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal,” He said with a wink. I’m pretty sure I went beet red. “Having your jaw wired is no picnic. Believe me, I know. I had it done myself as a teen. I’m Dr. Lane, by the way. Leo Lane. I specialize in head injuries. Your Maxillofacial Surgeon was in earlier, probably while you were still out of it. She’ll be back to check on you again tomorrow but, according to her notes, it looks like your jaw is doing great. No permanent cosmetic damage. You’re lucky. You might only be wired up for about four weeks instead of the usual six. Once you are able to eat solid foods again, you’ll just have to take it easy for a few weeks.”

  Four weeks of not being able to talk and drooling like a teething baby? That was lucky? How was I supposed to eat? Wait! Did he say when I’m able to eat solid foods again?

  Dr. Lane must have noticed my distress. It might have been the tears and hyperventilating. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured me, patting my hand. “You are going to be perfectly fine. This will be one of those things you look back on and laugh about some day.”

  Sam grabbed my other hand and gently mopped at my eyes with another tissue. My always-first-to-take-charge friend had gone strangely silent since the doctor came in. That thought distracted me from thinking about my own problems. I side-eyed her, since that was pretty much all I could do. She was blushing. Huh, go figure.

  Looking back at the doctor, I studied him a bit more closely as he continued talking. Thick, dark hair. Eyes just a shade darker than what I would call stormy gray. He was wearing scrubs and a lab coat, but I could still tell he took pretty good care of himself. His chiseled face had the faint beginning of a five o’clock shadow, giving him a slightly rugged look. It was hard to determine from a hospital bed but I thought he was decently tall. Yeah, he was definitely a hottie.

  “Your last MRI looks good. All of the swelling around the brain as well as the fluid buildup is gone—you must be quite the fast healer. It doesn’t appear that there will be any permanent damage. You may experience headaches and a few other residual side effects. I’ll have a nurse go over all of that with you before you’re released, though. I’m going to have a nutritionist come in and talk to you about your new diet later today, too. We may be able to pull your feeding tube by tomorrow.”

  Feeding tube? My hands immediately flew to my mouth, my inspection of Dr. Hottie forgotten.

  Dr. Hottie, er, Lane gently pulled my hands away. “The tube is actually in your nasal passage. Sounds gross, I know, but that’s how it’s done.”

  Ewww! Now that he mentioned it, I could feel some pressure from the tube. My whole nasal passage felt odd and, swallowing, I felt what must be the tubing. I immediately wanted it out.

  “Once that tube is out, you will be able to talk. It will definitely take some practice talking around the hardware,” he made a small gesture to indicate my wired jaw, “but you’ll get there faster than you know.”

  Sam piped up at that moment. “Does the four weeks include nine days she’s been here?”

  “Great question,” Dr. Lane said, turning his attention to my friend. “Unfortunately, Dr. Rhea - the surgeon who operated on Mrs. Bell’s jaw—will have to answer that, though. She’ll have the final say depending on how quickly Mrs. Bell continues to heal.”

  I watched the interaction between the doctor and Sam, not really paying as much attention to what was said as they continued to converse about my recovery. At forty-two, she was no slouch in the looks department. She was often mistaken for at least ten years younger, unlike me. Nobody ever mistook me as being less than my forty year old self. She was slightly taller than my own five foot-five inches, and about thirty pounds thinner than me. She ran several miles every morning—outside, if the weather was good, or on a treadmill in her workout room if it wasn’t. She tucked her long, blonde hair behind one ear and I saw Dr. Hottie’s eyes follow the movement. He crossed his arms and relaxed into his stance. I noticed he didn’t have a ring on his left hand.

  Sam likes Dr. Hottie . . . and he is definitely responding. Interesting.

  I forced myself to tune back into their conversation. “So, barring any objections from Dr. Rhea, or any further issues, we may be able to release you within a week.” Dr. Hottie—I mean Dr. Lane—was saying. “I see Ms. Stone—”

  “Please. I told you to call me Sam,” she interrupted, practically purring. I did a mental eye roll.

  “Sam, then,” Dr. Lane smiled at her. “I see she brought you a tablet. Great thinking.” He was addressing me but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “If you want t
o write down any questions you think of or let us know if you are in any discomfort, that would be helpful.”

  He finally turned his full attention back to me. “I’m going to have the nurse come back in and remove some of the bracing around your head and neck so that you can move a bit. Just take it easy. Your neck may be sore for a couple more days but that’s perfectly normal for what you’ve been through. I’ll check on you again tomorrow, Mrs. Bell.” He patted my arm lightly, nodded at Sam, and exited the room. I saw Sam’s eyes follow him all the way out.

  I grabbed the tablet and the pen-thingy and started writing. First things first . . .

  -WTF happened to me Sam???-

  “Oh, Rox, I was hoping you would remember,” Sam said after reading my question. “I don’t know all the details. Just that Steven . . .” she paused. “As your attorney, I can’t take the chance of influencing your memories of anything that happened.” She must have seen the confusion in my expression because she stopped my hand when I started writing down my next question, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go again.

  “What I can tell you is that you were found, unconscious and bleeding, next to your pool. You were rushed here and have been in an induced coma long enough for the swelling on your brain to go down. There was some bleeding in your brain, but that seemed to have resolved itself while you were in the coma,” she paused, swallowing hard. “Roxie, you scared the crap out of me! They were talking about drilling into your skull to relieve some of the swelling and the pressure from the bleeding.”

  Sam took a deep breath before going on. “They had to bring someone in to wire your jaw back together. It’s broken but it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. You’ve got plates and screws in there, holding everything together until it’s healed. You’ve been here for nine days now.”

  I thought about what she was telling me. And I thought even harder about what she wasn’t telling me. I needed to remember what happened, that much was plain. There was that flash of fear again. I shivered a little, which felt really weird when you couldn’t move your head, by the way. Huffing out a little sigh, I started writing again.

  -Where is Steven? Why isn’t he here?-

  She looked away, not meeting my eyes. “We’ll talk about that when you can remember more.”

  Well, that was vague. What is it that she can’t tell me?

  I erased the previous questions to make room for the next.

  -So what’s up with Dr. Hottie?-

  Sputtering, she answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  -I call Bullshit!-

  “Leo, er, Dr. Lane is just . . .” She sighed and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Okay, fine. He’s hot. But he’s at least a decade younger than I am.”

  -And???-

  “And what? I’m too old and too busy right now.”

  -As if that’s ever stopped you before. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Just saying.-

  She palmed her forehead, shaking her head. “Roxie, seriously. This isn’t about me, here. We need to focus on you. My dating life, or lack thereof, can wait. Let’s just work on finding out what happened that day and getting you out of here.”

  -When was the last time you slept?-

  “I’ve napped in the chair over in the corner. It reclines.”

  Knowing her, she hadn’t left my side except for bathroom breaks and quick trips home to shower. I remembered her conversation with Tess as I was waking up.

  -Go home and rest. Please. I’m fine.-

  She didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “Are you sure?”

  -YES! And do something with your hair before Dr. Hottie sees you again.-

  Laughing, she smacked my arm lightly. “I love you, girl. I’ll be back first thing. If you remember anything, anything at all, about what happened, write it down and save it in a file on the tablet.”

  -Will do. Love you too. Go.”-

  After Sam left, I realized I was exhausted. She had plugged the tablet in to keep it charged—luckily it had a really long cord—and tucked it in the bed within easy reach. Closing my eyes, I listened to all of the sounds in the hallway. How did people get any rest in a hospital, anyway?

  That was the last thought that I remembered before I was out again.

  Chapter 4

  Terror. Pain. A snarl and something huge charging at us . . .

  I woke with a start, breathing hard. It was kind of dark and I didn’t recognize where I was. Confused, I immediately tried to sit up, only to find that I couldn’t move my upper body. My hands flew out, only to hit metal bars. I heard the clatter of something falling onto a hard surface. And beeping. What was that infernal beeping?

  “Hey, hey. Mrs. Bell, you’re in the hospital. It’s okay. You’re okay,” a woman in scrubs hurried into the room. She grabbed one of my hands and began gently rubbing it. “I’m Connie, do you remember me?”

  I blinked once. It came back to me in a rush. I had a head injury and a broken jaw. I managed a groan as I recalled everything Sam and the doctor had told me.

  “I know. It can be confusing for the first few nights waking up in an unfamiliar place.” Her eyes were so kind, I immediately relaxed.

  My other hand dropped onto something in the hospital bed next to me. The tablet. I fumbled around, feeling for the pen. Connie, stooped down and picked it up off the floor, placing it in my hand.

  “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  One blink.

  I turned the tablet on and started writing.

  -Sorry. Nightmare.-

  “Ah. That’s okay. You’ve been through a lot, so that’s normal.”

  -Sam?-

  “Your friend? She’s barely left your side since you’ve been here.” I knew it! “She just left again, maybe an hour ago. We’ve been letting her stay past normal visiting hours, but I told her to go and get a real night’s sleep. That chair is not comfortable enough to actually sleep in.”

  -Good. Thank you. Do you have a mirror?-

  “Oh! Umm . . . I - I don’t,” she stammered out. “I’m sorry.”

  -Is it that bad?-

  “No! No, of course not. I mean, there’s some bruising. And your head is still bandaged. You were so lucky they didn’t have to shave your hair. You’ve got great hair!”

  It must be pretty bad. She’s babbling now and she won’t look me in the eye . . . I decided to let her off the hook.

  -Are you here to take my head and neck bracing off?-

  Relief flooded her face. “Yes, I can do that. I saw the orders for that earlier.”

  She proceeded to unlatch a brace from around my neck. What a relief it was to have that thing gone. Next went the brace around my head. I slowly moved my head side-to-side. It was sore, but tolerable. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I could feel the feeding tube against the inside of my throat even more now. Just the thought of it made me gag.

  “Go easy. You’ll feel some stiffness and you might be a bit sore.”

  A bit? Understatement.

  -When will feeding tube be out?-

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “Probably not for another day or two. You’ll have to, um, learn how to eat again. And it’s going to be smoothies for a little while until you work up to soft foods.”

  One final question . . .

  -Has my husband been by?-

  “No, ma’am. Not during any of my shifts, anyway,” she said quietly. “Do you want me to check with any of the other shift nurses?”

  -No. Thank you.-

  ***

  The next few days dragged by. The nutritionist came in and talked to me about how the next two weeks of my life would look like food-wise. Connie wasn’t lying about the smoothies! Dr. Rhea visited twice to check over her handiwork and to give me tips on talking and managing the drooling. Basically, I would need to have a small towel handy at all times. Dr. Hottie, er, Lane, stopped in daily to check my head—and to flirt with Sam, who was there more than she wasn’t. My feeding tube was
finally removed, which was a truly gag worthy experience. I was pulled out for a couple more scans. I read a few books. Nobody would give me a mirror. I even tried to see my reflection in the tablet screen but it had a matte finish protector. Too bad it wasn’t the kind with a camera built in. Sam refused to bring me my cell phone.

  By this time I had been in the hospital for just over two weeks. I was having nightmares nearly every single night. It was always the same thing each night—a general feeling of fear and pain, then something big and dark sailing over me. The funny thing was, the big dark thing wasn’t what scared me . . .

  Sam kept me entertained daily with her stories about the daily drama at the office. How did I get so lucky to have a friend like her?

  Tired of reading, I set the tablet down and thought back to how we had met. I had finished my degree in Journalism and Communications at MSU and come back home, overly optimistic about finding a job in my field right away. Turned out, it was so much harder than I thought it would be! I put resumes out all over the place. With the exception of an offer to become what amounted to a glorified coffee girl at one of the local papers, there was nothing. Becoming somewhat desperate as time went on, I finally began looking for anything that would give me a paycheck. I replied to an ad for an assistant in the legal field. No experience required, will train, it said. Sam interviewed me the next day, hired me on the spot, and we became fast friends. From the first day, she never treated me like I was just an employee—it probably helped that we were so close in age. She was fresh out of Law School and had just passed her Bar Exam. We worked out of a tiny hole of an office in downtown Flint. I found that I loved working in the legal field. We both put in long hours and watched the practice grow quickly. Before long, she brought in a partner, relocated to a large, newly renovated building, and had an office full of paralegals and assistants.

  We spent most of our weekends together during those early years. We went wine tasting at some of the vineyards popping up all over northern Michigan, went on beach vacations, cruises, kayaking adventures . . . We were practically inseparable for the first few years. She had even been there when I met Steven at the bar near the office, where several of the legal staff had lunch together almost every week.