Page 76 of Castaway Whirlwind
“You got your laparoscopic surgery,” Dolly finishes with a rush, the first thing anyone’s said to draw a genuine smile out of me. It immediately falls, though, when she says, “The endometriosis is pretty severe. The doc said yours isn’t the worst case she’s seen but that you would’ve ended up staying overnight anyway if they had tried to do it outpatient.”
The hand not hooked up to an IV travels to my stomach, where a small bandage covers an area close to my belly button beneath my thin hospital gown. “I finally got my surgery. This means…it means…”
I hold my stomach when it spasms from crying so hard at the thought that not only do I have an official diagnosis after years of my pain not being taken seriously, but also what this surgery will afford me. Less pain, less reliance on meds each month, potentially increased fertility, and hopefully, no more sobbing on the floor and throwing up.
When I start coughing, choking on my tears, Elliott passes a large plastic hospital tumbler of water to Violet, who holds the straw to my lips so I can sip from it.
“It’s life-changing,” I croak with growing hope for the future.Expensive, considering I’m not on Russell’s insurance plan yet, but it’s hard to even begrudge that because it’ll be worth it. “Has anyone told Russell?”
“He knows,” Elliott says with a serious nod. “He’d be here if he could.”
“Fuck.” I burst into tears all over again, surprising Dolly and Goldie with my curse, but it’s warranted in this situation. After taking a larger gulp of water, I ask Elliott, “Will he get out on bail?” Without waiting for his answer, I grip Violet’s hand, wildly desperate. “I want you to plan the wedding. It’ll have to be quick before his trial. Quicker than Goldie and Davis’s wedding. Also, you’re my Matron of Honor. All of you are,” I say, swinging my gaze around at the women who are more than simply my friends. I reach for Cora’s hand next, wincing when the IV pinches my other wrist. “You, too, Cora.”
“Hey! You can’t just—” a woman yells, cut off when there’s a crash from outside the room in the corridor, something large being dragged across the walls.
“Damnit, Dad! You’re going to bust your stitches wide open and bleed out all over again!”
“Then get these dang cuffs off me!”
A grin splits Elliott’s face—the kind I’ve never seen before.
“Son of a biscuit!” Russell yells with one hand cuffed to the railing of a hospital bed that he’s trying to swing straight so he can pull it behind him into my room. He looks both like a knight in shining armoranddeath warmed over with his pale pallor, too-small hospital gown, disheveled hair, and thick bandages wrapped from fingers to forearms—one of which looks to be bleeding after an IV was ripped out.
“It was for your own damn good!” SheriffGibson climbs unceremoniously onto the bed so he can reach Russell and uncuff him with a key. “You’re supposed to be resting and recovering.”
“Fudge that,” Russell snaps, trying to slam the soft-close door shut before slipping between Violet and Faye, grabbing my face, and crushing my lips beneath his.
I tear the IV from my wrist, throw it to the side, and tangle my fingers in Russell’s hair, trying to pull him onto the bed. “You’re here,” I say between kisses. “How are you here?”
With one knee on the bed, he says, “As if anything could stop me from getting to you.”
“Jesus, you know you’re mooning everyone, too, right?” Davis says from behind Russell, though I only have eyes for my man.
“Everyone get out, or you’re fired,” Russell grits, pushing a hand beneath my head to grip my neck, slanting his mouth back over mine. “Twenty-nine days, darlin’.”
“You know she can’t have sex yet,” Wyatt grumbles before I can ask Russell what he means, and I finally pull my eyes away to see Wyatt stepping around the hospital bed that the staff have finally unembedded from the walls. He looks ready to lift Russell off of me himself.
I clutch Russell’s shoulders and gingerly shift to the side, encouraging him to finish climbing onto my bed, though there’s hardly room for him at his size.
“‘Course I know that,” Russell says loudly over his shoulder, truly offended. “You’re fired for thinking I’d ever hurt my darlin’.”
“No, I’m not.” Wyatt winks, hooking his arm around Dolly, who’s staring up at the ceiling, as is most everyone else.
“Geez, boss, your butt is whiter than mine,” Trace says witha laugh, carrying Gauge inside.
Harold chuckles, following him into the room with Jared. “No, it’s not. Everyone at Granny’s can attest to that.”
“Y’all stop looking at my husband’s butt, or I’ll fire you myself,” I pout, earning a gruff laugh from Elliott as I help pull my hospital blanket up over Russell’s lower half so he can stop flashing his thick backside.
It’s getting crowded in here as everyone stands shoulder to shoulder to make room for Deputies Cooke and Green, Paul, Renee, and Francisco, not to mention all the hospital staff whose attention we’ve drawn.
Gibson is the last to enter, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Everyone except family, Green, and Cooke need to leave.”
Crickets.
“Fine,” he says with exasperation. “Everyone who’s not blood family needs to leave.” He mutters a curse when no one moves, and he motions for Elliott to please vacate the chair so he can sit, kicking his boots up onto my mattress and crossing his ankles. “Y’all put me through the wringer. Gonna force me into early retirement with all the trouble you give me and this town.”
“Early,” Dolly says sarcastically with finger quotes and a giggle.
