The nurse finally looked at me. “It’s Dr. Harrison.”
“Oh shit,” Abby breathed. She looked at me while I gritted my teeth, focusing on the blue curtains. We hadn’t seen my father since the night at dinner. I hadn’t even bothered to talk to both of my parents in three weeks. Sleeping dogs were best left sleeping, in their cage, I had figured.
Blinking at us, the nurse frowned, and eyed me closer. “Hey, I know you.”
“Yeah, Dr. Harrison is my father,” I answered her, trying to control the anger building up inside me. Doctors couldn’t refuse to treat patients, but this one he might.
Glancing around nervously, she told Abby to hold the gauze. “I’ll, just, uh, get Dr. Harrison now, then.” She backed out of the room slowly. “Keep her awake, please.”
“What are we going to do?” Abby whispered to me, still cradling Zoey, who had stopped whimpering and was quickly nodding off. Abby shook her gently, trying to keep her alert.
“It’ll be fine,” I tried, horribly, to lie. “He’ll treat her, and he won’t make a scene. Not here, at least.”
Abby bit her lip. She looked like she didn’t believe me one bit.
I didn’t have time to answer, as my father appeared from behind the curtain.
“Well, we meet again in the ER, Abigail.” All smiles, as he always was in his doctor persona, he greeted Abby without even looking at me. “What are the odds, twice in two years?”
His level of sarcasm made my brain spin, and Abby just stared at him. She was just as dumbstruck as I was by his rude comment.
“May I see her?” he asked and gently took Zoey into his arms. Pulling a tiny flashlight from his shirt pocket, he shined it in one eye, then the other. “What happened, exactly?”
“We were at the Lowan,” Abby said slowly. “Zoey jumped off the edge, and Joey caught her, but her head hit the side of the pool.”
My father glared at me briefly, saying nothing. He handed her back to Abby, ignoring me again.
“Well?” Abby prompted. “Is she okay? Does she need stitches?”
He pulled up a rolling chair and sat on it. “I don’t see signs of a concussion.” He swiveled around, and Abby let him look under the gauze. “It’s a very tiny laceration, but yes, it will need stitches, mostly due to her age. He looked at the chart up on the computer to his right. “She’s almost two, is that right? Pretty active?”
Abby nodded.
“Well, I’ll order an x-ray, just in case there’s any additional damage. Their skulls are still forming at this age, and we want to make sure that isn’t interrupted.”
“Yes, please,” Abby told him. “I’d appreciate that.”
He stood and typed into the computer for a long, silent minute or two. “Alright, the nurse will be in to take care of you and show you to the x-ray room. You’re lucky you came in on such a slow day. We should be able to get you out of here rather quickly.”
“Thank you, Dr. Harrison,” Abby said quite demurely. “I appreciate it.”
“It’s my job,” he waved her away, lifting the curtain. “Just hope this will make you see that my son…well, maybe you need to reconsider letting him around your child if he’s going to be this dangerous.”
“We were at the pool!” Abby blurted as Zoey began to fidget in her lap. “Accidents happen. You’re a doctor. You should know this!”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve other patients to attend to.” He flashed a brilliant smile and disappeared.
“Oh my God!” Abby turned to me. “That man…why does he hate me so?”
I shrugged, but my hand curled around the arms of my chair. “I often think the same thing.” Zoey reached out for me and I took her, careful to keep the gauze pressed to her head. “He’s always been like that.”
“In high school, he seemed to be less of an ass.”
“Maybe back then he was preoccupied with my brothers’ successes? Yes. I think he was disappointed when I didn’t go on to be a lawyer or a doctor like Mike and Kelly.”
“But you’re still young,” she protested. “We both are. Your brothers had time to figure everything out.”
I shook my head. “I never knew what I wanted to be, and that really bothered him, I think.”
“That’s no excuse to treat you like crap.” As soon as she said it, the nurse bustled into the room with a tray laden with utensils and a syringe.
“We’re just going to give her something to relax her, then we can take care of that injury, okay, Abby?”
“Alright.” Abby looked at me, then to Zoey. “Are you okay with Daddy? So Mommy can go change?”
“Daddy,” Zoey said softly, her little face still a mask of pain.
I looked over Zoey’s head at Abby. That was the first time she’d actually called me Daddy. It was music to my ears.
The nurse stared at Abby, clearing her throat and breaking the magical moment. “We’ll only be a few minutes.”
“I’m still soaking wet, I’d hate to cause a hazard,” Abby protested. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Longingly, she looked at Zoey.
“It’s fine, I’ve got her,” I assured her, tossing her the truck keys. “Just go change.”
She nodded and slipped out of the area.
As the nurse prepared the shot, I cuddled Zoey to my chest. “Daddy, huh?” I whispered to the second most beautiful girl in my life.
Chapter 18
Abby: I wonder what it’s like to have kids.
Jo-Jo: Why do you always text me random things. Lol.
Abby: Just a thought I had, is all. A tiny person who can’t do things for themselves and you have to keep them alive and stuff.
Jo-Jo: I’m sure it’s not that hard, our parents did it, right? Besides, isn’t high school not the time to think about this?
Abby: hmm, I guess so.
Jo-Jo: I wouldn’t mind kids in the future.
Abby: This is a weird conversation. I’m going to bed.
Jo-Jo: Goodnight, Abby Girl.
I hurried out to the truck and grabbed my bag, then rushed back into the ER and found the nearest bathroom. Zoey—God, I couldn’t lose Zoey. She was my world. Tearing off the swimsuit and patting myself dry with a copious amount of paper towels I yanked free from the dispenser, then pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, I rushed back to the front counter to have the clerk buzz me back to Zoey’s area. I was hesitant to leave her in the first place, but I was nearly naked in that suit and dripping everywhere. I felt more comfortable dry and clothed and was able to almost, but not quite, finally relax as I threw my bag back in the truck and locked the door.
Zoey’s injury wasn’t bad, I kept telling myself as I marched back up to the ER. The x-rays would be fine. Joey and I could go home and forget about the awful Dr. Harrison and the adventure at the pool gone bad.
As soon as I lifted the curtain, I could see the little area was empty, except for Dr. Harrison, who was typing into the computer once more.
“Where’s Joey and my daughter?” I asked, suspicion edging on my voice.
He turned to me. “Abigail, I’m glad I caught you.”
“Where’s Zoey?” I asked again.
“X-ray,” he said dryly. “Listen, I’ve got something here I’d like you to see if you don’t mind.” He turned the computer screen toward me.
“What is it?” I took a step closer and saw a white document. The County Sheriff’s seal on the upper left corner was clearly visible, just under the hospital’s logo. The top bolded line under that said, ‘Office of the County Coroner’. I shook my head at Dr. Harrison. “I don’t understand.”
“Just read it.” He barked softly, his pleasant doctor personality wearing thin.
I read the first few lines to myself: In regards to the death of Evan Years, a twenty-four-year old Caucasian male, apparent suicide—I skipped past the medical jargon—I regard the cause of death to be undetermined.
“Evan’s coroner’s report,” Dr. Harrison said smugly as I read.
“How did
you get that?” I glared at him, stepping back. “Has Joey seen this?”
“I have access to any reports in this hospital,” he said, “and no, my son has not seen this. And by the look on your face, neither have you.”
“I don’t understand why you want me to see this, now.” My fists balled at my side.
“Now, I’ve seen hundreds of these reports, signed off on them, even. But this one. Evan was dead on arrival, you know that, right?”
I just stared at him, crossing my arms. “That’s what they told me, yes.”
“It’s very odd that Evan had two injuries that caused his death: one entrance wound from the temple, and another that grazed the back of his head. The second, or perhaps the first, was the one that killed him. The coroner seems to think it was a combination of both.” He trailed his finger across the screen and dropped his voice. “In fact, he didn’t have enough evidence to even surmise anything other than Evan’s gun must have slipped on the first try.” He looked at me. “But we both know what happened, don’t we?”
I shrugged. “Evan shot himself. That’s in the official police report.”
Dr. Harrison’s jaw worked side to side as he met my stare. “As a doctor, who previously worked with military triage, as you well know, I know there’s no way the angle of that second grazing shot came from Evan.”
He was making me angry, but with only a curtain separating us from the rest of the bustling ER, I stepped closer to him. Gathering the lie around me for the hundredth time, I whispered, “I didn’t kill my husband.”
Dr. Harrison just grinned. “Like the police, I cannot say for sure what happened. But Joey’s an expert on guns, same as I am. Don’t tell me he won’t question this. Do you want to hear what I think?”
“No.”
“I think you found Evan,” he continued, as I huffed with the rage building, “with the gun, and maybe he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it, but you convinced him. Your prints weren’t on the weapon, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have picked up the gun and shot him yourself then cleaned it later. From what I hear about your run in with Malachai, you’re no stranger to guns. You knew exactly where to shoot him, and you missed on purpose, didn’t you?”
I gasped and stepped back. Evan had insisted on the range, having my own gun in the house, even though it was registered to him. No one would have ever guessed I was a crack shot.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I told him. I clamped my mouth shut. No one needed to know this, any of this.
Dr. Harrison closed the screen and shut down the computer before turning back to me. “That you and Evan’s little bastard will stay away from my son, of course.”
“Why?” I countered. “He’s an adult.”
“He can, and he will. I know my son,” Dr. Harrison nearly hissed. “He won’t want to live with or carry on with a murderer.”
“So, you want me to make him go away? Is that it?” I couldn’t help raising my voice this time. “What if he doesn’t?”
“Make him,” he shrugged. “Tell him you’re broken hearted over Evan still, and you don’t, can’t, love him. Tell him he’s a danger to Zoey—he did let her do something dangerous with him today, and she could have been seriously injured. You know this. Whatever you need to say, make him forget about this silly torch he carries for you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well, the coroner’s report is public knowledge. I’d have no problem showing him exactly what happened that night. He’ll have questions, just like I do. And we both know there’s no statute of limitations on murder. With a click of my finger I can send that report to Officer Knowles, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to reopen that case.”
“He wouldn’t,” I insisted. “That case was closed a year ago.” I felt tears sting my eyes and I pushed them away, holding my chin up.
He didn’t let up. “What will happen to Zoey if they arrest you?”
I gasped, anger immediately fleeing as my hands flew to my mouth.
“Will they let your parents have her, or will she spend her childhood in foster care? Who knows now-a-days, right? This system, it’s so screwed up.”
I choked back a sob. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Dr. Harrison just grinned at me.
“What’s going on in here?” Joey interrupted, and I spun as he let the curtain fall behind him.
“Joey!” I nearly jumped when I saw him. Zoey dozed against his shoulder.
“X-rays were a bit of a struggle, but we managed it,” he said to me. He turned to his father. “What are you two doing whispering like this?”
“I’ll just go check those scans now,” Dr. Harrison said, excusing himself. “Remember what I said, Abigail.”
Frowning, Joey turned to me as soon as his father was out of earshot. “Abby? What’s he talking about?”
I must have been pale, but then I realized I was crying. I wiped the tears away and I took Zoey from him. “Joey, I think you need to go.”
“Go? Why? I’ve got the truck, and I thought we could stop and get ice cream.”
“Please,” I told him, tears running freely down my face today. “Your father was right. Zoey could have been seriously hurt today, and you just let her jump off that side of the pool. I’m sorry, I can’t have you around her. You’re dangerous, and Zoey means more to me than that.”
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m not dangerous, Abby. Zoey’s accident could have happened to anyone! My father is a son of a bitch snake in the grass, you know that. What did he say?”
He was right, he was absolutely right. I knew it. But what if his father was also right? What if Joey saw the truth, or what he wanted to see, and reopened the case? What if he found out who I really was? A murderer? Was I?
No, it was too horrible. I couldn’t lose Zoey. I couldn’t. I’d already risked my teaching job, which I’d worked so hard to secure and maintain for the last few years. Everything was unraveling, and Dr. Harrison had been right—I had to send Joey away.
“Abby, I love you,” he started, breaking my heart even more. “Whatever this is between us, we love each other. We can get through this.”
I couldn’t imagine a day without him, but without Zoey, I’d be lost forever. I wrapped the hurt around me and released it with all the anger I could muster.
“I don’t love you, and I don’t want you around us anymore.”
“Abby…”
“Please, just go. Just get out of our lives!” I said harshly, trying to keep my voice down.
“Fine! You’ve asked me enough, I’m going!” he yelled back. “Find your own way home!” He ripped the curtain open behind him.
“You’d better not be there when I get back, either!” I shouted after him. “I’m mean it!”
“I sure as hell won’t be!”
Chapter 19
Jo-Jo: My parents make me mad sometimes.
Abby: So do mine. what’s up, Joey?
Jo-Jo: Nothing. My dad and I just got into another fight.
Abby: I’m on my way over.
Jo-Jo: You don’t have to.
Abby: Don’t tell me what to do. That’s what besties are for. See you in ten.
Slamming the truck door, I marched up to my parent’s house, even angrier than earlier when I saw my father had beat me home. The memories of fighting with my father in high school flooded back to me; a few so bad, he threated to kick me out and cut me off entirely. Joining the Marines was the most offensive thing I could have done and seeing the ire on his face the night before boot camp had been the highlight of my day back then. I remembered every time Abby had come to my rescue then, as she did even now, not afraid to step between us and protect me fiercely.
But she wasn’t here now, and I had to fight my own battles for once.
My father must have been finishing his shift when we had brought Zoey in. I’d tried driving around, getting coffee to calm me down, even parking out by the lake and letting my feelings sort themselves out.
I strode past my father in his favorite recliner, grabbed a beer the fridge, and downed the entire thing.
“Well, well, the prodigal son returns home,” he sneered at me. “Remember you need to pay for that beer, son.”
“Shut the hell up,” I told him, crushing the can and throwing it in the garbage. “What did you say to Abby at the hospital?”
“I told her what she needed to hear.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“What’s going on out here?” My mother appeared from her back sewing room. “Joey, what are you talking about?”
My father waved her away. “This doesn’t concern you, Jean.”
I turned to her. “He said something to Abby at the hospital, and she told me she never wanted to see me again!”
“Hospital?” My mother blinked at me. “Why were you at the hospital?”
“Zoey fell, at the pool,” I told her dismissively. “She’s fine,” I added when I saw the look of panic on her face.
“She’s not fine,” my father added. “Five stitches to the back of her head. At least the x-rays showed no other signs of damage to her cranium.”
My mother gasped. “How did that happen, Joey?”
“The idiot boy let the baby jump off the side of a pool.”
She turned to me. “Joey! How could you?”
“It was an accident!” I yelled, not caring about the look of hurt on my mother’s face. “Why is everyone so freaked out about this?”
“Oh, poor thing, her little head. I should call Abby and see if she’s okay.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Jean,” my father barked. “She’s a big girl who can take care of herself. She was certainly fine after she killed Evan, now wasn’t she?”
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