Page 38 of If All Else Sails
Maybe my made-up monologue for him wasn’t so far off.
I do agree it’s strangely satisfying to watch my skin slowly get its shape back where Dr. Charlie has been poking me. But his fascination seems a little over the top. Maybe unprofessional is the vibe here.
Dr. Charlie still hovers by my paper-covered bed. I stand up, but the doctor has me hemmed in. There’s no chance of running either, because even the bottoms of my feet are swollen.
“So, am I free to go?” I ask. “I’ll just pick up the prescription and drink lots of water.”
“And stay out of the bushes and away from poison oak,” Dr. Charlie adds, shaking his finger and smiling, like this is an actual joke and not a new life rule I’ll never forget.
He told me earlier that future reactions could bemoresevere, and I don’t want to find out how much extra fluid it would take for me to burst like an overfull water balloon.
“No worries. I have no plans to go anywhere near nature for a long time.” I wave my hand, flinching at how tight my skin feels. Each of my fingers is like a small, overstuffed sausage. I’m not sure I could even hold a pen at this point. Can I even hold the steering wheel to drive? I guess we’ll see.
First order of business will be finding Wyatt.
He appears in the doorway like some kind of specter I’ve summoned with my thoughts. A specter who looks decidedly less feverish, crutches under his arms and leaning against the doorframe. I’m relieved but also distinctly uncomfortable as Wyatt’s gaze falls on me. And then on Dr. Charlie, who is still standing closer than I’d like.The heat in Wyatt’s eyes could incinerate whole villages. Or, at the least, incinerate doctors with a bad bedside manner.
“Are you ready to go?” Wyatt’s voice slices through the moment like a scalpel.
Iwantto be irritated by his intrusion. He could be interrupting a real love connection, hospital-style. For all he knows, Dr. Charlie caught feelings while examining my throat with the tongue depressor my students use for crafts. Uvulas are an underrated feature, and maybe mine is dead sexy. Dr. Charlie took one look, and he was a goner.
But that’s not the case, and I’m beyond grateful for the interruption.
Wyatt crosses the small room to stand beside me. Even injured and leaning on crutches, he exudes a pure masculinity that practically cloaks the room in a testosterone fog. It’s a fog I’d happily get lost in right now.
Especially paired with his dark, threatening stare, aimed at Dr. Charlie, who edges toward the door. “I’ll send a nurse back with your prescription,” the doctor says. And with one last longing glance at my swollen arms, he’s gone.
I expect Wyatt to step back now that the doctor is gone, but he doesn’t.
“What’s your diagnosis? Or...prognosis?” I ask Wyatt.
“I’m a little closer to death every day,” he deadpans. “How about you? You look”—he scans me quickly, frowning as he does—“better?”
“Thanks.” I laugh and shake my head. “I told Dr. Charlie I look like a human stress ball.” Wyatt’s frown deepens, so I quickly continue. “But really—what did the doctor say? Unlike me, you do actually look better.”
“Would you believe an ear infection?”
I stare at him. I’m relieved it doesn’t have to do with his injury and isn’t something contagious.But...really? “An ear infection? What are you—five?”
He ignores this.
“They gave me some ibuprofen and a prescription. I’m as good as new. Now, let’s get out of here.”
“Can I talk to your doctor first? Or your physical therapist? Both, preferably. Do they work out of this hospital?”
“No” is all he gives me.
A nurse pokes her head in the door, sees Wyatt, and walks right in. She’s pretty and young and smiling up at him. I’m not sure she even sees me.
“You ran off without your discharge papers,” she says, a note of playful scolding in her voice. I can almost hear how much she wants to add,And without my number.
I reach around Wyatt to snatch the papers from her hand. “Thank you.”
Startled, she glances at me. Then does a double take, her jaw popping open before she snaps it closed.
Right—because I look like someone injected me with gelatin.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask, meeting her gaze head-on until she starts to back away. With one last glance at Wyatt, who’s watching me, she slinks back through the doorway.
