The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 1-3 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set) Page 3

Flipping to the next picture, Erin held up red-and-white pom poms, her face coated with more makeup than I would have preferred with her being just fourteen years old. A cheerleader for a daughter. Hmm. Not sure what I did growing up, but picturing me, or what I knew of me, in a tight-fitting outfit, my sole purpose to cheer for the hunky, brainless football players…well, I just couldn’t see it. Then again, maybe Erin had followed in her mother’s footsteps.

  I must have influenced them in some way, hopefully for the better. I found another picture of Luke in a basketball uniform, then thumbed through to the last picture. I paused, allowing my eyes to take it all in. It was me, with Luke and Erin on either side. We were all soaked from head to toe. It looked like we’d just gotten off one of those log flume rides. I had an arm draped over the shoulders of each kid, drawing them close. We looked silly, but connected. We wore smiles that were unique to a tightly knit family.

  They both seemed so happy. I did too.

  Where was Mark? Maybe he was the one taking the picture.

  “Jesus H. Christ, woman, have you thought about taking a shower anytime soon?”

  Jumping in my bed, I nearly bit my tongue as I watched a new nurse marching into the room. She carried a tablet and placed her glasses on her nose to read from it.

  While she was preoccupied, I took a quick sniff under my armpits.

  “It all blends in after a while,” she said, her eyes still focused on whatever she was reading. She walked around to the other side of my bed and started checking the machines attached to me, then tapping the screen on her tablet.

  “Uh, what blends in after a while?”

  “The stench in this shithole, that’s what.”

  I watched her punch a few buttons on my heart monitor.

  “If you’re talking about this morning’s breakfast, I couldn’t agree more. They eggs looked green on the edges.”

  She cackled. “The food sucks. That’s a given. We’re a hospital, not a bed-and-breakfast.” Her eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, peered at me above the tablet, then she checked the IV bag.

  “I actually woke out of my, uh, sleep and smelled the oddest combination of—”

  “Rotten eggs?”

  “Well…”

  “I could tell you some stories,” she said, glancing at me again.

  “I’m game,” I said, setting my phone next to me on the bed.

  “Oh my. GI bleeds are the worst. Brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.” She used her coat to wipe her face. Her head bobbed from her cackling. “Colostomies aren’t far behind. Especially those old farts who get really surly when you try to change them out. One guy was so rude his nurse refused to change the bag for two days. Then I had the honors. That was during my rookie year. Never again.”

  Scrunching my shoulders, I covered my mouth, trying to hide my laughter. I didn’t want to be rude. “Go on,” I said, enjoying the brief respite from forcing myself to remember who I was.

  “Abdominal fold cheese that’s been brewing a long time. A man rolled in here with all sorts of issues. For starters, he topped five hundred pounds. He couldn’t even wipe his own ass,” she said, snickering. “And apparently he’d given up trying.”

  “Oh, gross.”

  “Valerie’s my name, in case you’re searching for my name tag. I refuse to wear one. Patients never forget a nurse’s name. They’ve chased me down in the parking lot before,” she said, walking to the end of the bed.

  “What about that man who had the, uh, underactive thyroid?”

  Her brow furrowed like crumpled bacon. “He didn’t have any thyroid issues. He had a Big Mac issue. Ate every meal at McDonald’s. In fact, we found a cheeseburger under his left boob. I kid you not.”

  I snorted through my fingers. “What did that smell like?”

  “Crotch rot and swamp butt, all wrapped up in soiled clothing for a year. That’s the best description I can give. Want to hear more?”

  I could feel this morning’s eggs rumbling a bit. “That’s okay. I don’t want to be hugging a toilet when I see my kids.”

  “I understand your memory loss must be a bit frustrating. Good news is you should be out of here by tomorrow, as long as you have the proper supervision.”

  I wondered if Mark would be willing to care for me until I could care for myself. I didn’t want to stay another night in this rancid place, but spending a night in a bed next to a guy I didn’t know might be worse. “I’m sure we’ll work out something.”

  “With your kids coming, you might want to cover up your va-jay-jay.”

  My jaw opened as she tossed the sheet over my lap just as I unfolded my legs.

  “And let me tie the back of your gown. You may have small breasts, but that’s nothing for a kid to see.”

  I looked down at my chest, taken aback by her comment. Was I that unfamiliar with my own body? Geez.

  “Thank you” was all I could think of saying as she finished up.

  Suddenly, a rumble of noise approached my room.

  “I don’t know why you think I care about who the Celtics trade. That’s boy stuff. I’m a young woman.” A teenage girl marched into my hospital room, followed by a young boy almost half her height.

  My kids.

  “Oh yeah? Well, people actually want to know if the Celtics have a chance to upgrade their starting five before the trading deadline. It matters, unlike what you talk about with all your prissy girlfriends.”

  The boy, Luke, turned his head as he dragged his coat on the floor behind him. “Oh, hey, Mom.” He gave me a quick wrist wave, then walked to the couch on the opposite wall and pulled out an electronic device that was twice as big as his hands.

  Erin had both thumbs moving at the speed of light over her cell phone. Then she holstered it in the back pocket of a tight pair of jeans, folded her arms, and tapped her foot. Her eyes met mine. “Can you tell your son that he’s a dork and he needs to grow up? Sheesh.”

  Nurse Valerie gave me a quick wink as she quietly shuffled out of the room.

  “Hi, Erin,” I said with less than great confidence.

  “Yeah, hey. You doing okay and everything?” Her blue eyes inspected the room, and her nose twitched. She had a cute nose too, but in a different way than her brother’s.

  “I had the same reaction when I woke up. Kind of smells bad, doesn’t it?” I said, waving a hand in front of my face.

  Her flawless features scrunched up into a prune. “‘Bad’ isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, her arms still hugging her chest. She was wrapped in a colorful denim jacket that was two sizes too big.

  “Are you cold? I can warm up your hands.” I paused for a second, shocked that those words had crossed my lips.

  “I’m good,” she said, not looking me in the eye.

  “I suppose your father told you about my condition?”

  “He just said something about you having a tough time remembering things, kind of like Grampy.”

  I almost laughed, but I couldn’t have picked Grampy out of a lineup. Still, something ate at me, maybe Mark’s representation of what I had been going through. Then again, teenagers weren’t exactly reliable sources.

  “Doctor said it’s good if I you guys tell me things like that. I’m sure this brain of mine just needs a jump start.” I kept the tone positive, thinking that teens can either provide a thirty-minute soliloquy on a topic or a one-word response.

  “Uh, do I have to do this by myself?” Erin said, taking a step closer, her arms still locked together. “Doesn’t Luke have to do this too? It’s just not fair.”

  I raised a finger, my mouth half open.

  “Oh. My. God. Can you believe that biyatch? She frickin’ slipped him a roofie just so he’d sleep with her,” said a young woman waltzing into my room, a cell phone to her ear. She gave me a quick finger-roll hello. “I’m so going to be watching the next Bachelor. Wanna make it a face-painting party and binge drink some peppermint schnapps?”

  I mouthed to Erin, Who is that? She said so
mething in return, but I couldn’t understand, though it was becoming clear this was Sydney, our nanny.

  I watched the bubbly nanny, who looked to be close to twenty, slide off her scarf and toss her pink jacket next to Luke on the couch. She plopped down.

  “I know, right? Well, given what I’ve seen so far, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing. I mean, we can’t all rely on our amazing brains. We girls do have other needs. What? I can’t really say exactly. I’m kind of in mixed company.”

  While her words were enough to have me question her role in my kids’ lives, I couldn’t get past what she was wearing. A cropped shirt with slinky spaghetti straps. A tight stomach, including her pierced belly button, were visible for the world to see. In the winter. In Boston.

  She must have noticed my gaze.

  “Oh, sorry to kill the buzz, Demi, but I gotta run. I’ll text you later, girl. Ciao.” She blew a kiss into the phone, then tossed it onto her jacket and bounced back up.

  “Oh my,” I said without thinking.

  “What? What’s wrong, Mrs. G?” She bounced again.

  I wanted to grab her coat and wrap her up to hide her lack of modesty, and maybe protect mine. Instead, I just stared at her boobs. Each were the size of both of mine combined—multiplied by five. Were they being lifted by some type of hidden pulley system? More than that, it was rather obvious to anyone who wasn’t blind that it was cold. For some reason, I could recall a person from my past or present say, “It’s a tit bit nippley outside,” joking about someone flashing her headlights.

  Damn, who’d said that? Must have been on the work side of my life. Yeah, it sounded like a typical sexist comment in a law-enforcement setting.

  I curled my greasy locks around my ear, then situated Bert and Ernie in their most prominent positions. Not that I felt deficient. Not me. “You must be Sydney,” I said with little enthusiasm.

  “That’s me,” she cooed, clapping her hands together and jiggling her water balloons.

  I quickly shifted my eyes to the two people who were the most impressionable. Luke was going to town on a video game, it appeared. His face changed expressions every few seconds in dramatic fashion, as if it were made of rubber. I had to remind myself that he was eleven. Probably not very interested in girls.

  Then I glanced at Erin. I assumed boys were her main interest. She pursed and then pouted her lips while she tapped her foot like a rabbit. And her arms were still firmly pressed against her chest.

  “You feeling okay, Erin?” I asked. She seemed uptight.

  “I’m fine. I just can’t…you know.”

  I glanced at Sydney, who gave me a simple nod. I figured that was a signal for something.

  “What am I missing here, girls?”

  Sydney raised her hand as if I were a middle-aged teacher who needed to be connected to the real world. “Mark…I mean, Mr. G asked Erin not to spend her entire visit with you texting on her phone.”

  Mark? How old was this nanny? Lord, please tell me I didn’t hire her.

  “Can you believe it, Mom? It’s so, like, unfair. Again and again, I’m asked to do things that the little runt never has to do. Just look at him over there, grunting while he’s playing that silly video game. It’s really kind of gross.”

  “Screw you, Erin,” Luke said, his eyes never leaving his game.

  Sydney walked over to Luke and held out her hand.

  “Okayyy,” he groaned, then grudgingly plopped his oversized phone in her hand.

  Flipping on her heels, Sydney gave me an approving wink, as if we’d just shared some type of motherly bond.

  I said, “Guys, do you mind coming over here? You can sit on these chairs or the edge of my bed. I want to ask you some questions.” I really wanted to get to know them better, although I was already feeling that pull of familiarity.

  Their sassy attitudes seemed authentic. I wondered how much of that I used to tolerate before I came down on them. Another dozen questions smacked me like a brick. What kind of Mom was I? What kind of punishment did I dish out? What did I tend to ignore, and where did I draw the line? Did the kids just walk all over me? Didn’t seem likely, given how Jerry and Nick had described my work personality. How much different at home could I be?

  “Anyone want anything from the cafeteria?” Sydney asked as she nabbed her phone. “I’m sure they must have something close to a Starbucks downstairs, right? A snack, a late breakfast, Mrs. G?”

  A pang of hunger washed over me, my mouth salivating for something spicy. But I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what, and I didn’t feel like asking the present company what my favorite breakfast food was.

  “I’m good, thanks. Kids, you want anything?”

  “A candy bar?” Luke asked.

  “A double espresso with whipped cream,” Erin said.

  “I don’t know if those are the healthiest things for you two,” I said, the mom coming out in me.

  Luke didn’t respond.

  “Mother,” Erin said, as if I’d just outed her in front of her best friend.

  I decided not to give in, and I pressed my lips shut as something of a test.

  “Uh, I get it,” Sydney said, exchanging glances with Erin and me. “I’ll just see what they have, guys. Something healthy. Erin, maybe they’ll have some of those cool health juices you and your friends were talking about the other day.”

  “Sounds good, Syd. Thanks.”

  Syd disappeared through the door, and I instantly felt like a ten-foot wall—actually more like a see-through stocking—had just been removed from the room. I took in a breath and patted the bed.

  Erin rolled her eyes, and Luke trudged over. Just before he sat on the lone chair, his big sister scooted into the chair first, and he sat on her lap.

  “Get off me, dork,” she said, shoving him upward like he weighed five pounds.

  “Screw you. This was my seat. I was sitting in it, Mom,” he said, now stiff as a board, leaning back as his sister used her feet to keep him at bay.

  This was motherhood? I wondered if I’d been gone for longer than just a few days. They seemed oblivious to any type of parental oversight. With a near mutiny on my hands, I had a couple of options. I chose the calmer path.

  “Luke, you get to sit next to me. Come on up.”

  He looked at me, then all the tubes connected to me. I patted the mattress and scooted a little to my right.

  “Plenty of room. Just hop on up.”

  He seemed apprehensive, which was natural, given the circumstances. But it also seemed like his trepidation involved more than just the hospital setting.

  “So, Erin, how’s the cheerleading going?” I asked.

  “What do you mean, Mother?” She crossed her legs and started a rapid kick routine with her one leg. Her arms remained folded in front of her.

  “Are you—”

  She twisted her head, her face a hairball of torment. “What are you trying to say?”

  I think I’d just stepped in it. “Well, with your arms crossed in front of you like that, I just wondered if you felt okay.”

  “I’m fine. No worries here.” She looked toward the window. Maybe she was thinking about her escape route.

  “Luke, so tell me what position you’re playing on your team.”

  A strange look crossed his face as he stepped onto the metal guardrail and plopped onto the mattress. It shook the bed, and I could feel the jarring in my head.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” He touched my forearm, but accidentally brushed my IV tube extending out of my arm. He flinched. “Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Luke. I’m not made of glass. I only had a car wreck. Your dad did tell you that, right?”

  “I think so,” he said. His eyes made a trail toward the beeping sound of the heart monitor, then he looked into my eyes. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

  “Oh shit. That’s just great.” I turned and saw Erin’s face glowing red against her dirty-blond hair, the same color as mine. I made a mental checkm
ark that we had one thing in common. I just prayed that, even at my worst, I wasn’t nearly as dramatic.

  “What’s wrong, Erin?” I asked, now noticing her phone by her side.

  “Nothing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Boy problems. Right, big sister?” Luke snickered.

  She scooted down in her chair and tried to kick Luke. “Shut up, you brat.”

  I leaned forward, but quickly felt the tug of the tubes tethering me to the bed. “Erin, don’t kick your brother.”

  “He just loves rubbing my face in it.” She glared at her brother, red spears of contempt shooting from her eyes.

  “I can’t see your face with all that crap makeup you put on. And it smells too.” He rolled his eyes like a seasoned pro.

  I wondered if someone was catching all this on camera. This must be a test, maybe by Child Protective Services. If I could handle this nonstop squabbling, I could put up with just about anything.

  “Guys, I’ve missed both of you.” The words spilled out before I could stop myself. They weren’t completely true, but I felt something. This silenced the room so much that all I could hear over the beeps was a squeaking wheel motoring down the hallway.

  The kids looked at each other, then Erin glanced at me. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve missed you too.”

  I could feel my gut untwist just a tad.

  “Here’s what I need from each of you. I need you to pretend this is a movie, and I just reappeared in your life after being sent to another world. You have ten minutes to tell me everything about your life. If you don’t tell me everything, I disappear for another year. Ready?”

  I could see Erin debating her participation in such an immature game.

  Finally she said, “Okay, I’m game.”

  Luke nodded.

  “Cool. Each of you tell me something about your life, and then we’ll go back and forth for ten minutes. Go.”

  And go they did. My head swiveled back and forth between the two kids as I listened to their stories, and the rubber bullets of data began to penetrate my brain.

  Luke’s basketball career had yet to take off, I learned. Even though he was in Little League, he only played a few minutes a game. Coach said he needed more work on his dribbling and court awareness. I made a mental note to work with him on that.