The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  Dean coughed. “I can’t get it out.” He stood up and looked at her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The clot it . . .” A gagging, tongue-against-the-back-of-the-throat noise came from Dean. “. . . won’t come out.”

  Ellen snickered. “Sorry, but that’s because it’s probably so huge, the back of the throat is the only easy way out.”

  “It’s gagging . . .” Dean gagged. “Me.”

  “Well you wouldn’t have had this problem if you would have stayed upstairs after your x-ray.”

  “What for? I had to start my dictation.”

  “Sit.” Ellen pointed to the counter. “I’ll get supplies.”

  Dean opened his mouth to argue, but decided if Ellen was speaking to him, medically or not, he was taking it. “Sure.” He walked over, gagged again on his way and sat down. He watched Ellen pull things out from underneath the counter. She brought them over and set them in front of him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Do you want help or not?”

  “Yeah but . . .”

  “Then I’m helping you.” Ellen moved to the sink to wash up.

  Dean’s eyes shifted to the supplies still in their sterilized packages, asuction bulb, tiny surgical tweezers, gauze, and tape. “El?”

  Ellen joined him and opened the file folder she brought. “It’s broken.”

  “What is?”

  “Your nose.”

  “I looked at this.” Dean gave it back. “I didn’t see a break.”

  “Well, where were you looking?” Ellen held the xray up toward the light. “At this.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Left lateral portion of the bridge, Dean. See.” Ellen pointed. “You have a hair line fracture. It’s not bad. I’ve seen worse on Frank.”

  “Hal broke my nose? Shit.”

  “Well.” Ellen set down the x-ray. “Perhaps if you weren’t flirting with your girlfriend in the middle of the street, you know the little girl you swore you didn’t sleep with, maybe Hal wouldn’t have had to . . .”

  “Defend your honor?”

  Ellen giggled. “Yeah.”

  “What is he now, your appointed knight?”

  Ellen drew up a smile. “Someone has to be.”

  “For your information, I was up to something with her.” Dean pointed.

  “Did I need to hear that?”

  Dean closed his eyes. “No, that came out wrong. I was . . .”

  “Dean.” Ellen covered his mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. The only thing I want to come out right now is that clot.” She laid both hands on his cheek. “Head back.” Less than gently, she tilted his head back.

  “Is this a good idea?”

  “The clot has to come out. Do you want to breathe?”

  “I’m gagging here.”

  “Exactly.”

  Dean could see the suction bulb come into view. “Easy with . . .”

  “Dean. Enough.”

  “O.K.” There was something frightening about a scorned woman placing a suctioning device in his nose. He had to believe that Ellen would place herself in a medical frame of mind. He could feel the instrument go into his nose and he panicked more. One quick suction and Dean almost threw up when he felt the clot slip from his throat.

  “Out. It’s huge.” Ellen held gauze under his nose. “Hold this.”

  Dean held the gauze and watched Ellen place a cotton swab into a small jar. “Phosphoreus?”

  “Yes, it will burn but it’ll stop any bleeding. Ready.” She grasped the gauze. As soon as she applied the Phosphoreus, Dean shrieked. “Quit being a baby.”

  “That burns.”

  “I told you. Done.” Ellen turned to her supplies.

  “El.” Dean stood up. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For being nice and not callous.”

  “It was medical.”

  Dean closed his eyes. “El, why does this have to be so bitter?”

  A slight laugh of disbelief came from Ellen.

  “I miss you,” Dean whispered. “I miss you so much.” He moved closer. “This thing started and now it’s been a week since I have touched you.”

  “Think of it this way, Dean It’s better than when next year comes along and you’re thinking how it’s been a year since you touched me.” Ellen took her things to the sink.

  “I doubt that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, I doubt it because next year at this time, you’re gonna be saying. ‘Wow, Dean, I cannot believe I doubted you. What was I thinking?’”

  Opened mouth, Ellen turned to him. “Have you been hanging around Frank too much?”

  “Probably, but . . .” Dean held up a finger and walked to her. “Even though I’m going against Frank’s advice here . . .”

  “Oh my God. You’re listening to Frank.”

  “Yeah and he makes sense.”

  Ellen shook her head.

  “Going against his advice, I’m going to tell you I’m not giving up on us.”

  “Frank doesn’t want you to tell me that? And you’re buying that it’s in your best interest.”

  “Yes,” Dean said.

  “Frank probably wants you to blow it all together with me.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  Facially, Ellen again showed her shock. “What is up with you two?”

  Dean shrugged. “He’s on my side.”

  “Thank you for reminding me. Now you both can be alone together.” Ellen walked over to the killer baby cage. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  “Can we just . . . just talk about us?”

  “Nope,” Ellen said. “Yes or no? Killer baby blood transfusion or not.”

  “Yes,” Dean said with disappointment. “You get the supplies. I’ll prep Elliott.” Dean saw her eyes widened. “I mean . . . I . . .”

  “Don’t,” Ellen said coldly and walked away to get the supplies.

  Mumbling, Dean looked for the sedation. “Soon I will get through with the days where I quit screwing everything up.”

  ^^^^

  Totally frustrated with her brother’s pleas for release, Ellen welcomed the ringing Containment phone. “Containment.”

  “Please, El. Please,” Richie begged behind her.

  Ellen swatted him away. “Dean,” she spoke in the phone. “I just left there.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Dean said. “I have a question.”

  “God.”

  “Please, El. I’ll clean your house,” Richie tried.

  Ellen flung her hand at him. “What is it, Dean?”

  “What happened to the old freezer cases that we had down here in Room Two.”

  “The little ones from early on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please, El,” Richie begged.

  “Hold on.” Ellen covered the receiver. “Richie, will you . . .” Just as she turned around, she saw Frank in the doorway. “Swell. I’m inundated with annoying males.” She uncovered the receiver. “Dean, don’t you remember, about three months ago, when we were prepping for the new plague we brought them upstairs because didn’t need them anymore.”

  “Shit. That’s right.”

  “Why?”

  “Did we get rid of the stuff in them?” Dean asked.

  “Yeah, it was old and untouched.”

  “O.K. the breakdown should be in the computer.”

  “Dean,” Ellen said, annoyed. “What? Why is this important?”

  “No reason. Bye.”

  Ellen pulled the receiver away and looked at it. Shrugging, she hung up and turned back around. “Richie. Out. Frank. What?”

  “Oh my God, so rude.” Frank held his hand against his chest. “Richie, get out.”

  “I’m not giving up.” Richie backed up. “I’ll pester the hell out of you until you release me.” He stepped from the office.

  “So he thinks,” El said. “I’ll sedate his ass. Now what do you want, Frank?”

 
; “I want to talk to you.”

  “Nope. I’m really mad at you. Really mad.”

  “And rightfully so,” Frank nodded.

  “So if you came here to try to make amends and to explain why you’re siding with Dean, don’t bother.”

  “O.K.”

  “O.K.?” Ellen was shocked.

  “Yeah. Anyhow . . .”

  “Did I mention I wanted you out of my house?”

  “That’s why I’m here.” Frank told her.

  “I knew it.” Ellen walked to behind her desk. “Nope.”

  “Nope what?”

  “No, I’m not changing my mind. I want you out.”

  “I’m already gone.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I packed up and left already. I got a new place and . . .”

  “Already?” Ellen stood up. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. You said you wanted me out.”

  “But I didn’t think you’d leave so easy. No . . . trying to explain? No . . . guilt trips. No . . . arguments.”

  “Nope.” Frank shook his head. “The way I see it is why stress you out more. You are in a stressful situation. I’m sorry to add to that. You believe Dean dogged you. I believe someone is setting him up big time. This is causing a rift . . .”

  “Rift?” Ellen walked slowly around her desk. “Something is different about you.”

  “I shaved this morning. Look how defined my goatee looks.”

  “Something else.” She neared him.

  Frank shrugged. “Anyway . . .”

  “No, I’ll figure this out.”

  “Anyway . . . the reason I am here is . . .”

  Ellen snapped. “You aren’t swearing.”

  “No, I’m not allowed.”

  “Not allowed? Who won’t let you?”

  “It’s a bet. Now can I finish why I’m here?”

  Ellen stepped back. “You’re being different with me. Why? Are you mad at me?”

  “No. I . . .”

  “I didn’t do anything to you, Frank.” Ellen raised her voice, trying to start an argument and get the fight from Frank she expected. “You’re the one that defended Dean.”

  “Yes I am,” Frank said calmly. “And I understand that makes you p . . . p . . . mad. Of course, when we prove how wrong you are, you’ll be kissing our a . . . a. . . butts.”

  Ellen snickered. “I want in on this bet.”

  “Go see f . . . f . . . goofy Hal.” He waited for her to stop laughing. “Anyhow, I heard you and Robbie are going out tonight.”

  “Yes we are,” Ellen said smugly. “What? You don’t like it?”

  “I’m perfectly fine with it. You need to take your mind off of things.”

  “Huh?”

  “F . . . f. . . geez. I’m never getting to my point.”

  “Go on. You were bitching about me and Robbie.”

  Frank held up his index finger. “I was not.” He grinned. “My dad is running Security tonight. I have my place. I don’t like it, but I have a new place. Can I have the kids while you go out?”

  Ellen went quiet. “You want the kids tonight? That’s why you’re here?”

  “Yep. No school tomorrow. Can I?”

  “Um . . . yeah. Sure. About eight?”

  “Eight’s a great time. Thanks.” Frank quickly turned and walked from her office, allowing Ellen to stay in the open mouthed, baffled state she had entered over his attitude. He grinned at how things were going as planned. Before he headed off to finish any work, Frank went to the Clinic to tell Dean, court order or no court order, they were having the kids at their new place.

  ^^^^

  Henry’s thoughts should have been more on the meeting with Joe than where they were. Perhaps the call from Dean was the sign he needed. Holding a very small hand-sized box, he knocked on the Clinic lab door to get Dean’s attention.

  Dean stopped in his move across the lab. “Henry?” He seemed surprised. “That was fast.”

  “I was headed this way.” He held up the box. “Be gentle. They break.”

  “I appreciate this, especially after last night.” He took the box and lifted the lid. “I just fill them?”

  “Carefully. What are you putting in them?” Henry asked.

  Dean stared at the empty plastic paint pellet shells. “I can’t say. They break easily?”

  “Very.”

  “How easily?”

  “Any amount of pressure will destroy them.”

  “Excellent.” Dean grinned and put them back.

  “Dean.” Henry pulled up a stool. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Answer me as best as you can. O.K.?”

  “O.K.” Dean nodded.

  “If . . . if George was to have done this Bev pregnant thing to set you up, what would he have to gain by it?”

  “I never said George set me up.”

  “I know. You said Bev did. But, if George did, what could he have to gain by doing this to you? I need your answer. Anything?”

  “I can’t see what.” Dean tossed his hands up. “Revenge for giving him that virus? But Bev is further along than the length of time since we hit him with it.”

  “I thought of that,” Henry said. “What about this . . . how’s your work been?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you on top of things?”

  “Aside from missing the fracture in my own nose, yeah.,” Dean said. “Henry, why are you trying to find a reason for George’s setting me up? It makes no sense.”

  “Yeah, but I’m finding the reason so it makes sense.”

  “I’m sorry.” Dean shook his head. “I am really lost. Bev’s pregnancy is too far along for it to be revenge, the only logical reason.”

  “Not if Bev worked for George and her pregnancy became a tool.”

  “The tests showed the baby is mine.”

  “That’s another loop.” Henry looked in so much thought.

  “Henry.” Dean stared at him. “Don’t tell me you believe me now. I mean, yeah, tell me you believe me now. But why?”

  “I don’t know. I am still not convinced you didn’t sleep with Bev. I interviewed Rev. Bob. Now he didn’t name Bev. Hell, we don’t even have a solid connection between her and George but Danny brought up a point that maybe Bob freely gave Andrea’s name as a diversion for someone else working in Beginnings. You know, divert attention from them so they can do the work.”

  “And that person is Bev, not Andrea?”

  Henry swayed his head in debate. “I don’t know. If Bev is working for George, this baby could be a set up to get you to lose sight of your work, screw up, or leave Beginnings. Let’s face it, Dean. You’re an asset here. But even if Bev is working for George, she can’t pull this one off alone. She needs someone who . . . medically can help. Rev. Bob made me think. He said Andrea isn’t dangerous but she could ruin lives while running around waiting for her trial. You’re life, Dean, is conveniently being ruined.”

  Dean slowly backed up. “I didn’t think of it like that. Andrea?”

  “We could be wrong. Bev could really end up being smart. I think secretly, without her knowing, we should start looking into her again.” He saw Dean smile. “What?”

  “Henry, thank you.” Dean rushed to him. “I mean it. This means a lot. Are you serious about looking into her some more?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. Then it will be like old times.”

  Henry tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  “We worked so well together before. We fought, but we worked well. We can do this, the three of us. You, me, and Frank. We could use your help.”

  “Sure. How?”

  Dean grabbed the box of empty shells, held it up, and grinned.

  Ellen’s flustered voice called into the lab, surprising Dean and Henry. “Dean!” She raced in and stopped mid-run. “Oh, hi Henry.”

  “Hey, El.” Henry smiled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Um . . . not
hing.” Trying to whistle, Ellen moved across the lab.

  “El?” Dean called her attention. “What’s wrong?”

  “When, um . . . you get a chance . . .” She set bandages on the counter. “I need you to come with me.”

  Dean’s eyes widened when he looked at the supplies she gathered and laid on a surgical cloth, bandages scissors, sutures, and ascalpel. “El? What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Ellen began to roll the cloth around the supplies she gathered.

  “I thought you went home.”

  “I wanted to check on the progress of the transplant. Today was the day.”

  “Shit.” Dean covered his eyes. “I forgot.”

  “See.” Henry pointed. “What were we talking about? Frazzle the mind and defeat the scientist.”

  Slowly Dean’s hand slid down his face. His eyes shifted to Ellen. “Is there a problem with the transplant?”

  “You could say so.”

  “Rejection?”

  Ellen shook her head and grabbed the rolled up cloth. “Maybe you should just come down when you get a chance. See ya. Bye, Henry.” She flew from the room.

  “Henry, do you mind?” Dean started to follow.

  “Not at all.”

  “I’ll be back.” Hurrying out, Dean saw Ellen turn the bend. “El.” He raced to catch up. “Hold on.”

  Ellen stopped.

  “What’s the problem with the transplant? Didn’t it take?”

  “Oh, it took.” Ellen said and started to walk again,

  “Can he not feel them?”

  “He said he has numbness, but he’s able to move them.”

  “Then I’m lost. The experimental mix must have worked.”

  Ellen chuckled.

  “El? Is it the color.”

  “Um, in a sense, yes.”

  Dean snickered with sarcasm. “What did I tell you? There was a chance his lip color would be off. We can add pigmentation later. The important thing was to give Jeff back his lips. Next, we do his nose.”