“What’s this? You’re getting me naked now?”
“Not completely naked, and don’t read too much into it,” I huffed, freeing the last button and lifting his arm to carefully slide it out of the sleeve. “It’s a onetime favor. Trying to get you ready for the doctor’s arrival.”
I removed the shirt. When I reached down to unbuckle his belt, he said, eyes still closed, voice reedy, “I had a great dream about this once. About you taking my clothes off. Only we were in a hotel room, not a hospital, and you were wearing something a lot sexier that showed a lot more skin.”
“Oh, brother.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or cracking a joke to make me uncomfortable. Honestly, neither was beyond him.
“It was a really great dream,” he persisted.
“Well, I’m sorry your fantasies aren’t coming true.”
“Who says they’re not?”
“I say they’re not!” I ripped his belt free of its loops. “What’s gotten into you, anyway? I thought you barely liked me.”
“I never said that. Figured if we’re married I might as well start trying to seduce you. I deserve something out of this deal.”
This made me laugh as I went back to work. “Now I know you’re just being an idiot. If you’re trying to seduce me…”
“It’s not working?”
I shook my head.
“Crap. I gotta up my game.”
“Yeah, you need to up it a lot.”
“Ouch. That hurts worse than this slice on my side.”
“Whatever, Carter.”
I let the comments pass. By this point, I was pretty sure most of the more outrageous things he said were to get a rise out of me.
Leaving the rest of his clothing on, I urged him to lay back on the pillow. The nurse returned as I was spreading a thin white blanket over him. She checked my bandaging job again, but didn’t want to remove them until the doctor arrived. That happened within a few minutes. I groaned inwardly when I saw it was Dr. Hoos, under whom I’d trained a couple of times during my ER rotation.
This is going to be fun to explain.
“Taylor, nice to see you again,” he said as he busied himself with preparing to remove my makeshift bandages. “Sorry it’s under these circumstances. Someone did a good job of stopping the bleeding.”
“That was her,” Carter muttered. “She’s a good wife. Takes great care of me.”
Dr. Hoos’ eyebrows lifted.
“Wife? I didn’t know you were married, Taylor.”
I felt color rise in my cheeks.
“Carter,” I hissed.
“What? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, babe,” he said.
Dr. Hoos glanced questioningly between the two of us. I could have killed Carter. This may have been funny to him, but there were some parts of my life I didn’t want blazoned abroad. Still, I felt cornered into covering for him, so I said, “It—uh, just happened. We’re very newly married.”
“Really. Congratulations to you both. Nice job on the bandaging, Taylor. Are you sure you’re not interested in becoming an ER nurse instead of going into pediatrics?”
I shook my head. “Gets too crazy around here.”
“Sometimes,” he chuckled.
He next inquired as to what had happened, and, after hearing our cover story, asked whether we’d called the police. I said no, we hadn’t had a chance. He suggested it might be best if I did that soon. Probably not a bad idea. I didn’t need to be present while they stitched Carter up, so I laid a hand on Carter’s shoulder and told him I’d be back as soon as possible.
Out in the waiting room, I put in a call to the police. I felt uncomfortable lying through my teeth to the cops, but I knew if I didn’t make the call the hospital would. They promised to send officers to speak with me. After that I paced the waiting room, debating when I should call my parents and what the heck I was going to tell them. I’d told them when I left to see Carter that I was going to a movie with a friend. Maybe I should’ve been upfront—with my dad, anyway. How could I tell Mom the truth? She still didn’t know about my fake marriage, and I really didn’t want her to find out. I felt like my cover story, as well as my life, was starting to burst at the seams again with Carter’s reappearance.
Why didn’t he just call to tell me about the annulment and divorce situation? I fumed, stalking the hallways outside the waiting room restlessly. I’m not that hard to deal with, am I? I would’ve understood. I handled that bombshell well. Pretty well.
On top of everything else, and despite his picking at me, I was worried about Carter. I didn’t know many details about his recent injuries and convalescence, but I knew two big injuries on top of each other were never a good thing. He was in good hands with Dr. Hoos, but part of me felt like I should be back there overseeing instead of out here waiting for the cops to arrive.
Like you could really do anything Dr. Hoos and the other nurses can’t, I told myself.
The police showed up sometime in the middle of my internal argument, took my statement, and asked for permission to search the crime scene. I wasn’t confident Carter would approve of a search; then again, I had his wallet and phone in my purse. I was betting any sensitive information would be on or in them. I hadn’t seen anything like a laptop or a tablet laying around. Besides, hadn’t he mentioned the cops searching his room? Come to think of it, he had, so I gave them permission. One officer remarked maybe they needed direct permission from Carter himself, but—since Carter didn’t seem to mind handing our secret out—I spoke up and said I was his wife, if that made a difference. The officers glanced at each other, shrugged, and said they would get back with me after the search.
By the time this was dealt with, Dr. Hoos had about finished with Carter. I stole back into his partition where they explained how bad the cut was, what they’d done to repair the wound, and what medications he’d been given.
“I’d like to keep him here overnight for observation,” Dr. Hoos said. “He should be fine to be released in the morning, barring no further complications.”
I hadn’t expected any less, but I knew this meant I’d have to put in a phone call to my parents.
Carter didn’t argue. By now, he was on pain killers and looked pretty out of it. I agreed with Dr. Hoos, and added that I’d stay with Carter.
Hospital personnel showed up to wheel him to a room. Once he was settled, still half loopy and dozing, and they’d finished their puttering around and left, I pulled out my phone to call home. I stared at it a while, thinking of all the lies and half-truths I’d already told tonight.
“Well, here goes one more,” I sighed.
I called my father’s phone first, knowing he wouldn’t delve into details like my mother. I said the friend I was hanging with had started experiencing severe abdominal pain. Fearing it might be appendicitis, I’d persuaded her to go to the hospital. She was being checked out. I didn’t know how long it would take, but she’d asked me to stay with her. Dad didn’t ask many questions, just reminded me that I had classes in the morning. I said I knew, but I didn’t want to leave her. He understood. We hung up. I dropped my phone back in my purse, and turned to check on Carter.