Page 20 of Stone Vows

I stare in the mirror and wonder if my sisters-in-law would be able to console my brothers after a similarly-horrible experience. Yes. They would. They pretty much have.

I wash my face, and then stare at my hands. I start to shake thinking of what I held in them not even an hour ago. I look around, seeing if there is another chair I can kick. There’s not. So I suck it up, put my lab coat on and compose myself enough to go check on my patient.

Chapter Ten

When I get to Elizabeth’s room, it’s empty, but I hear the shower running in her bathroom. I sit down on the chair next to the bed and close my eyes for a minute. Then I smile when I hear the familiar “Da-da-da-daaaaa” sound coming from the TV and look up to see she’d been watching ESPN again.

Then I look at her bedside tray to see it piled high with various flavors of Jell-O.

Then I look at the fetal monitor next to the bed and all I can see is Jenny Beaumont’s face when I told her her baby was dead.

I hear the bathroom door open. I scrub my hands across the two-day stubble on my jaw, trying to rid my head of the painful memory.

“Oh, hi, Kyle,” Elizabeth says, walking across the room fresh from a shower. Her blonde hair, that falls just below her chin, is darker and wavier when it’s wet; and her face, devoid of all makeup, looks fresh and almost adolescent.

I stand up and help her back into bed. Then I get the fetal monitor hooked up again.

She looks at the clock on the wall. “Yes!” she shouts. “Eight minutes.”

I look at her in confusion.

“Abby said I had ten minutes to shower, but I did it in eight.” She gives me a triumphant smile.

I shake my head in awe at her excitement. I guess I was right about it not taking much to please her.

“What?” she says. “If I’m going to be stuck in this place, I might as well make the little things count, right?”

“I like your attitude,” I say, walking back to the table where I left her chart. “No more heavy bleeding?” I ask.

“Nope,” she says with another pleasing smile. “Just some spotting.”

“That’s good.” I open her chart and read the nurse’s notes. I catch a glimpse of her recent ultrasound and let out a deep sigh as it has me thinking about earlier.

I don’t usually sit down in patient rooms, but I do now. I sit down and pinch the bridge of my nose. Maybe I’m getting sick. I just feel—off.

“What’s wrong, Kyle?”

I shake off the feeling and look up at her. “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“You just seem different,” she says, studying me.

“I’m fine,” I say. I nod to the television. “What’s with you and ESPN? You really are a sports junkie, huh?”

She laughs. “I am. I’m trying to catch up on all the scores. I don’t own a TV. I usually go to Sal’s to catch the highlights.”

“Sal’s on 52nd?” I ask.

“You know the place?”

“Best egg rolls in New York,” I say.

“Oh, my God, right?” Her eyes roll in appreciation. “I walked his dog for a week when his regular guy went on vacation. After that, he let me come in and watch TV even if I couldn’t buy anything.” Her eyes snap to mine and she shuts up as if what she said was too revealing. “Um, he had a beautiful Wheaton Terrier named Wonton.”

“Wonton?”

“Yeah. A dog named Wonton owned by a guy named Sal who runs a Chinese food restaurant. Pretty crazy. You’d think he’d own a pizza place or something with that name. Sal’s Pizza,” she muses.

I eye her tray table. “Speaking of food, what’s with all the Jell-O?”

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