Page 40 of Collateral Claim
Endo might’ve traded me for a nice handgun. Or a bag of potatoes, for all he cares. My imagination runs wild, but stranger things have happened since Hurricane Endo barged into my life.
For example, I performed surgery and removed a bullet lodged near a major blood vessel. The entire time I dug through the patient’s flesh, I prayed I wouldn’t kill him. If it weren’t for the nurse wiping my face every few minutes, sweat would’ve been dripping from my forehead.
When I said I am not a surgeon, I meant it. If it weren’t for the surgeon guiding me through the procedure, I might’ve lost my nerve.
Trauma work is not for me, and yet that’s all I seem to have been doing since I met Endo.
Maybe he’s confused and thinks I missed my calling.
I did not. Family medicine, particularly infectious diseases, is my thing. I’d rather treat an outbreak of Ebola than remove bullets from people. In addition, Marquis is an O-negative blood type, because of course he is, which means he’s a universal donor, not a universal recipient. This makes his blood type more difficult to come by.
During surgery, we had a single bag. I prayed for it to be enough.
All doctors aren’t made equal. Oh no. Different people work better under different conditions, and pressure doesn’t always bring out the best in everyone. Sometimes it folds them. An ophthalmologist rarely works in the same environment as a trauma ER doctor. But Endo doesn’t seem to care about that. He saidoperate, and we all said,yes, sir.
I use the bathroom and find new toiletries, along with a toothbrush that looks suspiciously like the toothbrush Endo’s housekeeper gave me when I told her I needed one back in the Keep. I refresh myself and walk back into the room.
Under a vase holding a single pink tulip, I spot a note. The masculine handwriting with aggressive strokes can only have been written by Endo.
Scar,
The note starts, and I shake my head because only my family calls me that.
Check on Marquis when you wake up. Your staff arrives at seven. The clinic opens at nine, and I know you’ll be up by then. Dec will pick you up for lunch at noon.
Endo
I read the note twice. It’s eight in the morning, so I have an hour to check on Marquis before the clinic opens. The staff arrived, no doubt with many questions. Actually, no. I doubt they’ll ask questions since I’m pretty sure they’ll recognize Marquis as Endo’s man.
Not sure why Dec will pick me up at noon when I should be picked up now so I can return to the Keep. Does Endo want me to return to this room? I’m confused, but one thing at a time. Check on my patient first.
A pretty beige dress hangs from a hook on the room door. It’s not mine, but the white lab coat behind it definitely is. I can tell it’s meant for me because someone (Endo, likely) wroteDr. Pembrokeon the pocket. With a black permanent marker.
I wear the dress (in my size) and the lab coat, and head downstairs. The staff swept and cleaned Marquis’s room, removing all surgical equipment. It looks like a recovery room now, a.k.a. a room where nothing happened last night.
I check the chart for the vitals and the IV. I’m happy to see that his face has regained some color already.
As I turn to leave, a woman in blue scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck walks in.
“Good morning,” she greets with a gentle smile.
She’s in her late thirties with a patch of purple hair at the front of her otherwise dark brown hair. Her eyes are brown, her nose long and slightly curved down.
“You must be our new doctor. Dr. Pembroke was it?” She offers me an elbow instead of a hand to shake, since she’s washing her hands.
I bump it with my elbow. “I’m Scarlett Pembroke. A doctor, yes.”
“Brenda Donney. I’m one of the nurses. My sister Emily is a nurse here too. Riordan is in the front. We call him Rie like the bread with an i.”
She slips on plastic gloves and goes to arrange Marquis’s IV fluids. “We’re so glad you were able to come in earlier than next week. I hear Marquis had a terrible backache. He’s much loved in the town.”
Ah, we’re going with a backache. I wondered how this would be explained. I shouldn’t have. Endo’s townsfolk have it all worked out.
Brenda continues. “The clinic wasn’t supposed to reopen for another week, but Declan called us in this morning. Said the new doc is in town a week earlier than planned. He said you’re eager to get started. As are we.” She arranges Marquis’s already tidy blanket. “We haven’t worked for months, so we didn’t need to be told twice. I’ve got a little girl who needs to eat, so I took her to Karen and came in as early as I could.” She tosses her gloves in the bin. “Josy, my girl, loves Karen’s more than our house because Karen is deaf and Josy can watch TV loud as fuck.” Brenda pinches her lips. “There I go, cursin’. Are you strict with cursing?”
“Um…”
“I hope not. The last doc we got really didn’t like my sailor mouth.”
