“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve seen and heard much worse than that.” Smiling, he stepped out of the room again while the nurse helped Elly into the bathroom and back into bed.
Still limited to a clear liquid diet, she was allowed broth and flavored gelatin for lunch along with a beverage. She offered no complaint. In fact, he didn’t think she minded not being able to eat. Her tummy probably still hurt enough the thought of food made her a little nauseated.
They spoke of inconsequential things throughout the day, though he gently tried a few times to steer her into discussing the incident that brought her to the hospital, but she’d change the subject whenever he made the attempt.
He didn’t press.
Not long after she was settled in her new room, Dr. Pendergast, the surgeon who’d operated on her spleen, came in to go over the results of her CT scan. Jerry didn’t want to leave, but Elly had a right to discuss her care with her doctor without a stranger listening in, even when he was the stranger in question. However, when he rose to depart, she said, “Don’t go.”
He frowned, but resumed his seat.
Pendergast informed Elly her scans looked good. No sign of bleeding in either her abdomen or her head. Then he paused. “Now I need to ask you about the bruising we noticed on your wrists and buttocks.” He turned to Jerry, who gave a nod to indicate he understood which bruises the doctor meant.
“Legally, I must ask. Did your husband cause your injuries?”
Elly swallowed and glanced at Jerry. “Would you explain Corbin’s Bend to him?”
Jerry wanted to object, since he suspected the activities of Corbin’s Bend had little to do with the punishment Arthur had inflicted on his wife, but Elly gave him such a plaintive look, he relented.
Careful to use non-judgmental words, he explained how Corbin’s Bend was a community that catered to individuals who had an interest in domestic discipline. When Pendergast blinked, Jerry added, “Couples who practice DD often employ corporal punishment, which can include spanking, caning and whipping, but it is not considered abuse.”
“What is it, if not abuse?” the doctor asked, clearly unfamiliar with the concept.
“A way to preserve marital harmony through spousal discipline. I can send you some literature if you like, but most partners in DD do not resort to the levels of severity Mrs. Benson experienced.”
“I see.” He turned back to Elly. “I’m not sure what sort of sex games you and your husband practice, Mrs. Benson, but I should caution you the marks and bruises you sustained on your bottom were not minor by any means. Normally when I observe injuries like yours, I contact the police, no questions asked.
Jerry wondered what had held the doctor back.
“However, I received a call from Dr. Marcus Devon who advised me to speak with you first about the marks on your posterior. He understood my concern, but asked me to hold off involving law enforcement until we had a chance to talk. If I still felt human services should be involved after our discussion, he requested I also call….” He pulled a notepad from his pocket. “A Mr. Brent Carmichael. Do either of you know Mr. Carmichael?”
Elly nodded and Jerry said, “He’s the founder of Corbin’s Bend and a good friend of ours.”
“You two are brother and sister, right?” the doctor inquired.
Jerry clamped his mouth shut, but Elly said, “Yes. He’s my older brother who takes excellent care of me when my husband’s away.”
Pendergast frowned. “Are you aware your husband has been asking to visit you, Mrs. Benson? We’ve told him you’re limited to only one guest until you’re out of the ICU, because we were advised seeing him might upset you deeply, which was something we couldn’t afford to do.”
Elly glanced over at Jerry, who met her gaze evenly.
“We had an argument,” she confessed, “but it was only a simple misunderstanding. However, I was terribly upset afterward. Then I fell….”
“You fell?”
She nodded. “I was carrying my dog when I was overcome by a wave of dizziness, lost my balance and collapsed on our coffee table.”
“And that’s how you hit your head?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Except a mere fall, or even a total collapse, wouldn’t explain your fractured ribs, the tear in your spleen, or your miscarriage.”
“My what?” she asked, her expression suddenly pale.
“You had a miscarriage. Didn’t you know?”
She shook her head, and the tears started to fall.
“I’m sorry. Were you aware you were pregnant when you fell?”
She shook her head again, but reached for a tissue. “No.” Then she slid down and buried her face in her hands.
Jerry glanced at the doctor. “Maybe I should talk to her alone for a while.”
The surgeon nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her, but I thought Dr. Jamison had already been here to discuss the D&C he performed due to her miscarriage.” He regarded Elly for a moment. “I can tell you two are close, even if I doubt you’re siblings. She relies on your advice and judgment, Dr. Douglas, but after everything she’s been through, I really think she needs to speak with a professional. We have a resident psychologist on staff. I’d like to recommend he visit with Mrs. Benson.”
Jerry cast a glance at Elly’s huddled form and accepted she would probably benefit from talking to someone who wasn’t emotionally involved with her. However, given her fondness for doctors, he suspected she’d resist the idea. Perhaps after she got out of the hospital and settled, they could set her up with one of the therapists at Corbin’s Bend. “I appreciate the advice, doctor, but I think introducing her to another stranger right now would do more harm than good. We’ll look into having her visit a psychologist once she gets home.”
“I understand. If you change your mind, just tell her nurse.” Dr. Pendergast extended his hand. “Give her my apologies, Dr. Douglas. Again, I regret upsetting her.”
The moment the doctor left, Jerry moved over to hold Elly’s hand. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
“Did you already know?” she asked blinking over at him.
“Yes. I spoke with Dr. Jamison yesterday, after he did your D&C.”
She swallowed. “Did he…? Am I…? Will I…?” Tears filled her eyes as she waited for him to answer the question she feared putting into words.
He placed his forehead against hers. “Elly, if you want children in the future, you will still be able to have them. Does that help?”
With a nod, she gripped his neck and sobbed. His gut clenched as he held and reassured her. He wanted to press her back and kiss her, but brothers didn’t take those sorts of liberties. Besides, she was still married, and until he could convince her to admit what Arthur did was abuse, all he could do was wrap his arms around her and offer his shoulder.
After a few minutes, she stopped crying and apologized.
He titled her chin up. “Elly, you don’t need to apologize for anything. Understand?”
She gave him a watery smile. “Yes, sir.”
With a shake of his head, he returned to his seat as a volunteer came in with the dinner menu to ask Elly what she’d like.
Dr. Jamison made his visit to check on Elly at around five, though his stay was understandably short. Like Jerry, he reassured Elly she would still be able to have children, which only brought tears to her eyes again. Assuring her everything was fine, he left rather than upset her with any more questions. At six o’clock, Brent called to check in.
“How’re you guys doing?”
Jerry glanced over at Elly who was sitting up and sampling the bland dinner they’d served her. He’d tried to assist her, but she’d pushed his hands aside and assured him she was perfectly capable of feeding herself. He’d been so delighted she’d regained some of her previous feistiness; he’d sat back and beamed at her.
“What?” she asked, as if his expression had insulted her.
“Nothing. I’m just pleased you’re doing so m
uch better.”
She tried a forkful of mashed potatoes and grimaced. “Well, I feel like shit.”
“Warmed over or fresh?” he inquired pleasantly.
She laughed, then winced. “It hurts to laugh, so be nice.”
“I’m always nice, and I’m told I possess a soothing bedside manner.”
Wrapping her arms around her middle as she struggled to smother another laugh, she scowled at him. “Yeah. All the dogs yap praises about you in the park. Muffin told me.” Her expression sobering, she lowered her arms. “I haven’t asked yet today. How is she?”
“She gave me a lick and a tail wag yesterday, so I’d say she’s doing fine.”
Smiling, she said, “You do have an excellent way with unhappy, scared and injured creatures, Dr. Douglas.”
“Pleased to be of service, ma’am.” He pretended to tip a cowboy hat off his brow. “Now, perhaps you’d be willing to fess up ‘bout what happened to you Friday morning?”
She shook her head and ate a bite of stewed chicken. Yum.
His expression grew serious. “Don’t you think I deserve the truth?”
Scrunching her eyes, she turned away. “I— I’m not sure what you want me to say. I was carrying Muffin when I lost my balance and fell. We both hit the coffee table. I didn’t mean for the accident to happen.”
Jerry kept his voice low and gentle. “Can you meet my eyes and say that again?”
Shaking her head, she stared down at her hands.
He realized she was scared and struggling with mixed emotions, but he’d hoped she’d grown to trust him enough to confide the truth by now. They needed her statement to prosecute Arthur, and Jerry wanted to put the bastard away.
“Do you trust me, Elly?”
“Yes, sir.”
He sighed, knowing she’d say whatever she thought he wanted to hear, but she wasn’t ready to confess what had occurred between her and her husband. Not yet.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, reaching for her hand. “Because I care a lot about you, Elly Benson, and I want to help, but I can’t if you’re not honest with me.”
When her face wrinkled with despair, he tapped her nose.
“Now, enough of that, missy. You got some yummy vanilla pudding there just waiting to be gobbled up by you. So, you’d best get to eatin’.”
The clouds in her expression didn’t dissipate entirely, but he’d managed to put off the deluge with his teasing. Unfortunately, such tactics merely placed a bandage over a festering wound. Until she was willing to accept the pain of a thorough and complete lavage, her emotional injuries would remain infected.
Once the threat of tears had passed, he gave her a gentle hug and moved back to his chair. “Now, finish your dinner,” he ordered with playful gruffness, “or I’ll come over and feed you every bite of that delicious looking mush.”
She’d chuckled, but dutifully picked up her fork, and that’s when Jerry’s cell phone had rung.
“We’re both doing as well as can be expected,” he said, answering Brent’s query.
“Good to hear. Think Elly’s up for some company tomorrow?”
“I’d say that would depend on whom you had in mind,” he replied, his voice a bit more brittle than he intended.
Elly cast him a worried glance, but he shook his head.
“I don’t want to cause Elly any further upset, Jerry, I promise.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“However, Arthur is being persistent. He just left my office in a huff saying you were interfering in things that weren’t your business, so he may head to Denver on his own.”
“Well, that would be a poor waste of gas.”
“Jerry…. What did you tell the hospital administrators?”
“Can’t say right now. Little pitchers and all that.”
“He might try to sue you.”
“Not my concern.”
“Okay. I gather you’re not precisely open to discussing the issue, so tell you what. Marcus and I will drive to Denver tomorrow and give you a break. I’m sure Elly would love to see another face than your sorry mug all the time.”
“No doubt you’re right.”
“Are you planning on coming home tonight?”
“Nope. Not necessary.”
“Somehow I expected you’d say that. Do you need anything?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Well, I’m sure Elly will need something to wear when she’s released, and if you need a change of clothes or anything else, we can bring those with us as well.”
“Uh huh. And who’s ‘we’ exactly.”
“I told you. Marcus and me. I suspect Elly doesn’t want a lot of people surrounding her right now, so we’ll keep the party small.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Just us. Though maybe you and I can step out and have a little chat when I get there.”
“Sounds wonderful. But, Brent….”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not going to do any good. Night.” At that, Jerry disconnected the call.
* * * *
Monday afternoon, which represented Elly’s third full day in the hospital, Brent and Marcus spent time chatting with the patient after Brent gifted her with an overnight bag filled with personal items and some new clothes Kelli and Bethany Angel had purchased with his money, since no one had wanted to request permission from Arthur to collect Elly’s things. After about a half-hour, Brent pulled Jerry aside and they stepped out into the hall while Marcus drew a chair closer to talk privately with Elly.
“Have you gotten her to say what happened, yet?”
“We’ve ‘discussed’ the matter, but she still maintains what happened was an accident. That she and Muffin fell against the coffee table when she lost her balance. However, from the way she refuses to look at me when she says it, I’m convinced she’s not telling the truth. If they landed on a coffee table hard enough for both of them to crack their ribs, that table has to be in splinters right now, and I want pictures of the crime scene.”
Brent clapped a hand on Jerry’s shoulder. “You have every right to be angry, Jerry, but Arthur is Elly’s husband, and he’s demanding his legal rights to see her. He says he’ll sue the hospital and have you barred from her room if his ban continues for one more day.”
Shrugging, Jerry said, “He’s welcome to try.”
“Right now this is your word against his, and you lied about being Elly’s relative. The hospital could take legal steps against you for misrepresentation.”
“They won’t. Even her surgeon has suspicions regarding Mr. Benson’s treatment. Imagine how Denver Memorial’s administrators would react if they discovered this supposedly loving husband had driven off to work, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, after he’d kicked the tar out of his wife and left her and her little dog nearly unconscious on their living room floor.”
Brent cleared his throat, and Jerry realized the founder of Corbin’s Bend had to play devil’s advocate, even if he hated the job. “You don’t know that’s what happened.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll wager a few pictures of their living room would support my theory. She probably did hit her head on the coffee table, and if she did, I suspect she left a significant amount of blood on the carpet. I may not be a betting man, Brent, but I’ll bet you a huge pot of money I’m right.”
“Arthur would never agree.”
“Gee. I wonder why not.”
Brent sighed. “Please understand, I’m totally on your side, but we need proof. If we can’t get her to corroborate your suspicions, we’ll have to let him see her. She’s out of the ICU now, so even the hospital can’t legally keep him away.”
“Fine. Just give me a crack at him first. Afterward, if he still wants to talk, which I doubt he will, he can visit.”
Brent’s face sobered, but Jerry suspected his mentor’s expression only grew serious to suppress his smile. “Think a boxing match between you is wise, do you?”
Jerry shook hi
s head. “Wise? No. But knocking a few of his teeth out would make me feel a helluva lot better.”
“I’m sure it would. Look, you’re exhausted. I know you’ve left before dawn for two days in a row, and you had Jenny take care of Jack and your furry patients so you could sleep here last night. I’m aware they’ve got chairs that convert into beds so family members can remain with their loved ones, but I also know they are terribly uncomfortable. So, why don’t you go home, get a shower, something to eat, check on your patients and get a good night’s rest? Marcus and I can cover for you here tonight.”
Jerry closed his eyes. Admittedly, he was tired, but the thought of leaving Elly right now after her mini-breakdown yesterday didn’t sit well with him. Not at all.
“You’re not doing either one of you any good by running yourself down, Jerry. I studied her from across the room earlier, and other than the small bandage on her head, she looks healthy. Even rested. But you look like hell, if you’ll pardon the expression. Do us all a favor and get some rest. All right?”
Jerry met Brent’s gaze evenly. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
“Why not? Don’t you trust us?”
“You know that’s not the case.” Jerry ran his fingers through his mussed hair. “I’ll be honest with you, all right?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“What happened Friday morning scared the shit out of me. I thought we were going to lose her, and fear ate a hole in my gut, Brent. A huge hole. I realize I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I can’t help it. Then yesterday, the surgeon informed her she’d had a miscarriage. She had no idea she was even pregnant, and she fell to pieces. I should have prepared her, except I’ve been so worried about her condition, I never even thought about it. I know she tried to muffle the sound with her pillow to keep me from hearing her, but she cried herself to sleep last night. I won’t leave her now. I can’t.”
A Simple Misunderstanding (Corbin's Bend) Page 10
