32. Dante
CHAPTER 32
Dante
I almost didn’t hear Dr. Cain come into the room. I’d been immersed in the damn book for so long my butt had fallen asleep. Thanks to the constant, explicit sex scenes, other parts of me had become fully aroused. As the doc’s rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the linoleum, I flipped the cover closed and tossed the book back in my bag.
“The swelling’s gone down, and we’ve started to taper off the sedatives. Ready to see how your grandmother is doing?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course.” I adjusted my crotch as I stood. Nothing like sporting a little wood in my ailing grandmother’s hospital room.
The doctor stood over her bed, shining a penlight under her lids. “Mrs. Bishop, can you hear me?”
Meemaw’s eyes fluttered, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Mrs. Bishop?” Dr. Cain moved the light.
She pushed his hand away. “Of course I can hear you. I hit my head. I’m not deaf.”
I smiled as a wave of relief washed over me. She was back.
The doctor continued his exam. “Do you know what month it is?”
“May?” Meemaw asked, a twinkle in her gray-blue eye. “I’m just joking, Doc. It’s December, or at least it was. I better not have missed Christmas. The senior center...” she flung the covers away and made a feeble attempt to get out of bed.
Dr. Cain stopped her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and guiding her back against the pillows. “Mrs. Bishop, you’ve been sedated for two days. You’ll need to take it easy.”
Meemaw’s face took on a greenish tinge. “I don’t feel so well.”
I stood and grabbed her hand. “You had me really worried, old woman.”
She met my gaze. “I’m sorry, my boy. I guess I’m just not as young as I used to be.”
“You’re going to be just fine, Mrs. Bishop. We’ll just need you to take it easy for the next several days.” Dr. Cain looked at me. “That means resting. No cooking, no big Christmas parties, and no more ladders.”
“Got it, Doc. Thanks,” I said, still holding Meemaw’s hand.
“We’ll keep her under observation for another night,” Dr. Cain said. “Assuming all goes well, you can take her home tomorrow.”
“Just in time for Christmas,” I said.
“Oh, pshaw. They won’t even be able to have Christmas at the center without me.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “Mrs. Blake stopped by. She said she’s got it all under control and that you shouldn’t worry about a thing.”
“Oh, Irene Blake. Sure, she’s got it under control. She’s been praying for me to stroke out for years so she could have a go at organizing a holiday meal.”
Dr. Cain laughed. “I don’t envy you, Dante. You’re going to be busy trying to keep a handle on her for the next few days.”
Meemaw continued, “Why, Bugsy told me he can’t stand her stuffing. She uses a packaged mix. Can you imagine?”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Dr. Cain flipped the chart closed and slid it back into the slot at the foot of the bed. “We’ll have you up and around in no time. You’ll be back in charge well before the Valentine’s Day dinner.”
“You bet your sweet britches I will.” Meemaw stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Speaking of food, who do I need to arm wrestle for a snack around here? I’m starving.”
“I’ll go get a nurse to find you something to eat,” Dr. Cain said. “Keep an eye on her, okay?” With a final look at me, he left the room.
I set a Styrofoam cup of water down on the bedside table and tucked a straw into the plastic lid. “Do you want some water?”
“Bring it here.” Meemaw reached out a shaky hand.
“You gave us all a scare. I’m glad you’re going to be all right.”
“How bad do I look?”
“Let’s just say purple isn’t your color.”
Meemaw groaned. “Tell me, my boy, who came to visit me in the hospital? I want to know who my real friends are.”
As I filled her in on all the news her visitors had shared, Cheryl stopped by with a tray of food.
“Here you go, Mrs. Bishop.” She set it down on the table. “Soft foods without too much flavor. Doctor’s orders.”
“Cheryl Kincaid? Maybe I knocked my head harder than I thought.” Meemaw pursed her lips and looked from me to Cheryl and back again.
“Cheryl’s a nurse here at the hospital.” I picked up the plastic spoon and dipped it into the runny cup of Jell-O. “She’s been taking care of you for the past couple of days.”
Meemaw glared at Cheryl. “Never thought I’d see the two of you in the same room again.”
Cheryl looked down at her feet. “I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Bishop. What happened between me and Dante… well, that was a long time ago.”
“Not long enough that I’ve forgotten how you broke my poor grandson’s heart?—”
“That’s enough now.” I lifted the spoon toward Meemaw’s mouth.
“I thought they wanted me to get better.” Meemaw scowled, taking the spoon from me and shoving it into her mouth. “This stuff is liable to make me feel worse.”
I glanced at Cheryl’s shocked expression and stifled a laugh. “She kind of calls it like she sees it.”
“I remember.” Cheryl smiled and grabbed the pitcher off the table. “I’ll just go get you a refill on this.”
After she’d left the room, Meemaw glanced over at me. “What’s going on with you and Nurse Ratched?”
“Nurse Ratched, huh? Don’t you think that’s a little extreme, even for you?” I nudged the tray of food closer to her on the table.
Meemaw dipped her spoon into the bowl. “That girl is bad news, my boy.”
“If I can get over it, so can you. Aren’t you always telling me to forgive and forget?”
“Hmpf.” Meemaw slid the Jell-O around in her mouth and swallowed. “I was talking about the time when Irene tried to pass off my famous checkerboard pie as her own recipe. That girl caused you so much pain.”
“I said I’m over it.” I sighed. I was over Cheryl Kincaid. It had taken me almost ten years and I still wouldn’t consider the possibility of progressing beyond a casual fling with a woman, but for the most part, I’d patched my heart back together and forgiven her for screwing around on me with my best friend during my junior year of high school.
Meemaw wrinkled her nose. “Her grandmother stops in at the center from time to time. I thought she was running around with that no-good Jamie Casper.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve barely seen her since high school.”
“Well, I’d steer clear of her.”
“Trust me, I have no intention of starting anything with Cheryl. Now why don’t you try some of these mashed potatoes?”
“You trying to poison me?” Her eyes widened. “I guaran-damn-tee you these came from a box.”
“One serving of instant potatoes won’t kill you.”
“Fine.” Meemaw scooped a tiny bit of potatoes onto her spoon and studied it before sliding it into her mouth. “How are things going with Faith?”
“Faith?” My cheeks flushed.
“Dante, surely you remember the sweet girl you got frisky with on Thanksgiving?”
My jaw dropped.
“Close your mouth, my boy. Anyone could see the sparks flying between the two of you.” She pointed her plastic spoon at me. “Including Lorraine. And she’s legally blind in one eye. Probably both, if you ask me.”
“Things with Faith are, um, good. She flew home for Christmas.”
Meemaw nodded and continued to slurp her way through her late lunch. My mind wandered to Faith. Just the mention of her name had me practically breaking out into a sweat.
Cheryl returned with the full pitcher of water. She set it down on the table and turned toward me. “If you want to run home and grab some clean clothes or something, I can sit with her for a while.”
“Aw, that’s okay,” I said.
Meemaw sniffed the air. “A shower might be a good idea. How long have you been here?”
Cheryl sat down in the chair next to the bed. “He hasn’t left your side since they brought you in, Mrs. Bishop.”
“In that case, you’d better get out of here. Go on home and check on things for me, will you?” Meemaw narrowed her eyes. “It’ll give Cheryl and me a chance to get all caught up. Make sure the turkey is in the fridge. I should have had that bird thawing days ago. You may even have to put it in a cold water bath... it’ll probably never be thawed out in time to cook now.”
“I don’t think you’ll be cooking any turkey for the next few days,” I said. “Remember? Doctor’s orders.”
“Doctor, schmockter.” Meemaw waved her hands at me. “Go on. Get out of here. Fill up the sink with cold water and let the turkey sit in it while you get cleaned up. If you don’t want me to cook it, I’ll walk you through how to do it yourself. I promised that old coot Bugsy some of my home-cooked bird, and there’s no way my grandson is eating fast food on Christmas.”
“I’d be happy to help you cook the turkey,” Cheryl said.
I gulped, and Meemaw gave me a knowing glance. “Don’t you have plans for Christmas?” She gave Cheryl the once-over with her eyes.
“My family’s going out to my Granpap’s in Rushmoor. I have to work that night, so I was just planning on cooking up a TV dinner.”
Meemaw wouldn’t hear of someone not having a home-cooked meal for Christmas, even if she was convinced Cheryl was up to no good.
“Let’s get caught up a little before we make plans,” Meemaw said. “Go on now. Fill up the sink. The whole thing’s got to fit inside. Cheryl, hand me that paper over there, will ya? I’ll make a list while you’re gone,” she said to me. “You can pick up the rest of the stuff we’ll need from the store later.”
I shrugged into my coat and grabbed my bag off the floor. I bent down to kiss Meemaw on the head. “So good to have you back, old woman. I sure was getting lonely with no one to boss me around.”
Cheryl walked me to the door of the room. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have invited myself over like that.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’ll grill you for a bit, and by the time I get back she’ll be insisting you join us for dinner. It’ll be good for her to have something to focus on.” And I can prove to myself and her that you’ve got no hold on my heart anymore.
She smiled. “Okay, then. Drive safe and I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Thanks.” I walked down the hall and out into the cold, frozen parking lot. What the hell had I got myself into this time?