Page 10 of Fever: Love In Scrubs
He opened the door wider to allow me entry. I stepped into the room and a chill ran up my spin. It was cold, dreary, and a little creepy.
“I’m Dr. Pierre, by the way.”
“Is it always so cold down here?” I asked, hugging myself.
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And you work alone?”
“I’m never alone.”
“Right… the bodies.”
“That and my assistant.”
He nodded to a young woman behind a desk typing away on a computer. She offered me a warm, sympathetic smile. Dr. Pierre walked over to his desk and picked up a plastic bag with a yellow label.
“These are the belongings he had on him when they brought him in.”
I took the bag from him to examine the contents. Inside was my father’s favorite wristwatch, his wedding ring, and what I knew to be my mother’s ring on a chain that he never took off. Dr. Pierre walked over to the refrigerated drawers, motioning for me to follow. Slowly, I made strides toward him. He peered down at me with a sympathetic smile.
“You ready?” he asked, grabbing the handle.
I nodded. Just as he went to open the door, I grabbed his hand.
“Wait!”
“Take your time. There’s no rush here.”
“I just… I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. I don’t know what to expect.”
He squeezed my hand. “I cleaned him up to make sure he was presentable. He looks peaceful. It was an aneurysm that took his life. Most likely, he wasn’t in any pain and died in his sleep. He was in his recliner when they found him.”
I sniffled. “He loved that damn recliner.”
I stood there for a moment, holding his hand. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want to do this, but it had to be done.
I took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Dr. Pierre released my hand and opened the cooler. Carefully, he pulled out the drawer. I closed my eyes as he pulled back the sheet. He grabbed my hand and gave it another gentle squeeze.
“Take your time.”
For a minute or so, I stood there until I was certain I could open my eyes. The moment I did, I felt the tears return. Rounding the table, I stepped closer to my father. With a trembling hand, I reached out to touch and caress his face. He was cold and his skin felt rubbery. I noticed the bites on his skin,undoubtedly from bedbugs. The years had aged him slightly, but he was still as handsome as I remembered him.
“Daddy…” I whispered, as the tears fell down my cheeks.
Once the first one fell, I couldn’t stop it. I placed my forehead to his and cried my eyes out. Years of pain and guilt emerged through my audible cries. I felt strong hands on my shoulders as Dr. Pierre lifted me up. I fell against his chest, crying profusely. He didn’t fuss as I stained his scrub top with my tears. He simply stroked my back in a soothing manner.
When I was finally able to get it together, I apologized.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dabbing my eyes.
“No apologies needed.”
I took a few steps back and hugged myself, attempting to self soothe. “I um… I contacted Jefferson Funeral Home to get him. They said they would be here this afternoon.”
“Yes ma’am. They made arrangements. I just need you to sign the release forms.”
