Crazy Love(15)

“It really depends. Every patient is different. Things are looking good, but your mom will, in all likelihood, need physical therapy a few times a week even after she is released from the hospital, depending on her mobility. We should know more in a few days.”

Chase nodded. He knew that Krista was a physical therapist here at the hospital. Not only had his mom told him in voicemail messages, but he had a fake Facebook account he’d friend requested her on and she’d accepted. He did feel a little creepy about it, but he couldn’t have an account in his real name. And he got to keep up on what was going on in her life. Plus, it wasn’t like anyone had forced her to accept the friend request from Donald Smith (his FB alias). She’d done that all on her own. Still, he had to admit that his actions had landed him smack dab in the middle of stalker territory.

“It’s a good thing that Krista found her when she did. The longer a patient is unconscious, the less chance there is for a full recovery.” Dr. Corbin set down his mom’s chart and turned towards the door.

“Wait. Krista found her?” Chase asked. He thought about what Krista’s message had said. “Your mom is headed to the hospital. I am going to take care of Bear and then be right behind her.” He guessed he should have figured that out from the message, but he hadn’t put two and two together.

“Yes, she did. She is quite a young lady, that Krista Sloan,” Dr. Corbin said in a fatherly tone that reminded Chase of the dad on My Three Sons.

When Chase was growing up, his mom had loved that show, and whenever reruns had come on, she’d watch them and laugh. He remembered it so well because laughter in the Malone house was a rarity.

Chase nodded in agreement with Dr. Corbin’s assessment. “Yes she is.”

As the doctor made his way out of the room, Tully rushed in. Chase knew what Tully was going to say before he even had a chance to get the words out.

“We have a situation,” Tully said, his voice strained.

“People know I’m here,” Chase sighed.

Tully nodded.

“How many?” Chase knew that this was the price of fame. He hated it when other stars whined about things like privacy. But at times like these, it was difficult not to feel a little frustrated.

“A few hundred. The hospital is keeping them out, but they are gathered around the main and emergency room entrances. Chip pulled the bus around to the doctor’s parking lot, which you can’t enter without an ID card, but I don’t know how much time that will buy us.”

Chase had wanted to stay until his mom woke up, but Dr. Corbin had just assured him that it could be hours before that happened. He should probably head out of here before he caused more of a commotion.

“Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head towards the door. As he stood to leave, he paused at his mom’s bedside. Leaning down, he quietly spoke to her, “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”

He didn’t know if he was just imagining it, but he swore he saw her eyelids flutter at his words.

As they stepped out into the hall, Tully said, “I’ve already been in contact with hospital administration. They’ve apologized profusely for the behavior of the two nurses earlier and said that they should have a system in place to assure not only your privacy but your mother’s as well by tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Chase followed Tully to what looked to be a service elevator.

They moved inside and Tully reached up and tugged on the leather strap, pulling down the door. “I knew I should have contacted them last night. If I had, then the incident with those nurses would never have happened.”

“It’s fine, Tully.”

The girls hadn’t really done any damage. Yes, they’d cried and screamed, but he was used to that. He’d only been concerned that they would disturb his mom, but she’d slept through the entire thing. The person he actually felt deserved an apology was Jamie. She’d gone above and beyond her duties to get the nurses to leave the room.

When the elevator stopped, Tully pulled up the strap and he and Chase exited the elevator into a room filled with industrial-sized washers and dryers. It looked like a Laundromat on steroids. The air was hot and stifling. They quickly made their way to a door in the back corner, and when they opened it, Chase saw his bus parked about a yard away.

“Marcus wants to know how long you plan on being here and I need to give the magazine a location for the shoot Saturday,” his assistant rattled off.

Damn. Chase had completely forgotten about the Hits magazine shoot and interview. “See if we can postpone,” Chase said as he climbed up into the bus.