Pieces of You(41)
“Claire, you have to come down here,” I say into the phone, the pain pulsating throughout my entire body giving my voice a hard edge.
“Why? I already saw you yesterday and that was only because your mom insisted. It’s a broken leg, Chris. You’re not going to die. I have to study.”
“Not for me.”
Nurse Fran gives me a pointed look through her swooped black bangs. She ordered me to get some rest since this is my last night in the hospital, and here I am on the phone again. She already jokingly threatened to toss my phone out the window earlier today.
“It’s not for me, Claire,” I continue. “It’s Abigail. She’s here. That’s what the meeting was about. She’s having surgery tonight at eight and Abigail’s—” I hesitate to refer to this woman as Abigail’s mother, though she was nice enough to offer us a chance to see Abigail tonight. “Abigail’s mother is letting us see her tonight before she goes into surgery. You have to get down here.”
Claire is silent and I wish I could be there to give her this information in person instead of lying in this fucking bed. I wish I could have picked her up in my own car and held her hand as I delivered this news, but time is running out. This might be our only chance to see our daughter.
“Claire?” A soft sob comes through the speaker and it feels like a fucking knife in my chest. “Claire, can you get Senia to bring you?”
“I’ll be there.”
I hang up the phone and Fran glances at my chest and I’m pretty sure she’s just putting together my conversation with Claire and the tattoo over my heart. “You need a wheelchair?”
“Yes, please.”
As soon as she leaves the room, the aching in my chest spreads through my throat, choking me, until it reaches my face, stinging my eyes. I clear the thickness in my throat and try to compose myself before Fran returns. Then I hear the click of someone’s heels in the corridor and I know who’s coming.
Tasha enters my room wearing a cleavage-popping green dress that makes her red hair look even redder. The navy-blue cardigan she wears buttoned at the waist does nothing to hide the soft, round flesh bulging out of her neckline. A blue sweater, green dress, and cherry-red heels… somehow she pulls it off. It’s the sexy red-framed glasses and red lipstick that pulls it all together.
“Is she coming?” she asks as she walks right up to my bedside and stares at my bare chest.
I swallow the lump in my throat before I answer. “She’s on her way. You didn’t have to come here.”
The last thing I need right now is for Claire to feel intimidated by Tasha, if that’s even possible. I’m pretty certain Claire knows she has me wrapped around her finger.
“I know I didn’t have to come, but I have to be here in case they try to make a verbal agreement,” Tasha replies as she peels her gaze away from my chest and takes a seat in a chair. “You have virtually no rights here, Chris. I’m just protecting your best interests.”
“Yeah, you’ve told me that before.”
Fran walks in with the wheelchair and I grit my teeth as I attempt to sit up. “Hold on there, bad boy. I’ll lift you up.”
“I don’t need you to lift me,” I say as she reaches for the button on the side of the bed to lift the head of the mattress, but she’s too late. I’m already sitting up and reaching for my leg in the splint.
“You can’t move your leg. I’ll do it.” I attempt to lift my leg out of the splint and the pain stops me cold. “Just hold your horses and I’ll do it for you. For crying out loud, eight o’clock isn’t for another ninety minutes. You’ve got time. Do you want something for the pain?”
“No. I want to go in there with a clear head.”
She nods and I try not to grimace too much as she slowly helps me into the wheelchair and props my leg up.
“I looked up the information for Abigail and I can take you straight to her as soon as your friend arrives,” Fran adds as she moves toward the door. “You may want to put a shirt on.”
She leaves and I look down at the jeans that Fran allowed me to put on earlier today. The right pant leg is cut off below the knee.
Tasha and I make small talk for a while as we wait for Claire. I want to ask her if Abigail’s mother told her how serious Abigail’s condition is, but I almost don’t want to know.
“Can you hand me that shirt you’re sitting on?” I ask Tasha.
She quickly stands and hands me the black NOFX shirt that is now nice and warm from her ass. It’s already hot as fuck in this hospital room so I wait a minute before I pull it on. Claire and Senia walk in as I’m shaking out the T-shirt and Claire instantly looks away from my chest. She hasn’t seen the new tat yet. I know this isn’t the right place or time to show her so I quickly pull my shirt over my head to cover it up.