Read Online Suture Self by Mary Daheim - Free Book Online

of Mr. Mummy’s sentence. “Do you see anybody else?” she asked Renie.
    â€œUmm…Here comes Margie Randall. Can you hear her?”
    Judith could, as Margie uttered a series of keening noises that sounded like mourners at an Irish wake. “That’s awful,” Judith said, putting her hands over her ears.
    â€œThere must be a bunch of people in the room,” Renie said, cautiously taking a couple of steps farther into the hallway.
    But suddenly, except for Margie Randall’s shrieks, the commotion seemed to subside. Renie informed Judith that there were a handful of staffers milling about, with anxious, curious expressions on their faces.
    â€œHere comes Sister Jacqueline,” Renie said. “She’s with some guy who looks like Ronald Colman on a bad day. What was that movie he made where he was drunk all the time?”
    â€œNever mind,” Judith responded. “What does the guy look like? A doctor? Security? A wizard?”
    â€œA doctor, he’s wearing a white coat,” Renie answered as the man quickly passed by. “He looks very grim. So does Sister Jacqueline.”
    For several minutes, nothing seemed to happen, at least nothing that Renie could tell. Then, quietly and somberly, several of the people who had been in Bob Randall’s room came back into the hallway. They spoke in hushed tones, shaking their heads and placing hands on each other’s arms, as if to give comfort. Margie Randall had finally stopped shrieking, though she was nowhere in sight.
    Mr. Mummy gave a sad shake of his head. “I don’t like the looks of this, do you, Mrs. Jones? Or may I call you Serena?”
    â€œMrs. Jones is fine. What did you do to your leg?”
    â€œI broke it in several places,” Mr. Mummy said. “A nasty fall off a ladder while I was taking down Christmas lights. I had surgery in the community hospital out where I live, then they transferred me in here today. It’s a very small town and a very small hospital, with only one surgeon. Excuse me, I must lie down. Perhaps I’ll see you again?”
    â€œProbably,” Renie said in mild surprise. Mr. Mummy returned to his room.
    â€œIs Mr. Mummy going to ask you out?” Judith inquired with a quirky little smile.
    â€œI hope not. He’s almost as old as I am, bald except for two tufts of hair sticking straight up, glasses, andabout a fifty-inch waist. Cute in a way, but not my type.” Renie spotted Corinne Appleby. “Nurse?” she asked, trying to sound humble but not succeeding. “What’s wrong?”
    Corinne’s face was very pale under her freckles. “There’s been a…problem. An emergency. Don’t worry, everything’s under control.”
    â€œIt doesn’t seem like it to me,” Renie shot back. “Come on, we have a right to know. Whatever it is, it happened right next door.”
    With trembling fingers, Corinne tucked a red curl under her cap. “Sadly, Mr. Randall expired. Excuse me, I must get back to the desk.”
    If pain and posture had permitted, Judith would have fallen out of the bed. Instead, she stared at Renie, who had turned back into the room. “Bob Randall’s dead?”
    Renie gave a helpless shrug. “As a dodo, I gather.”
    Awkwardly, Judith fell against the pillows. “I should have known.”
    And then she wondered why she’d already guessed.
    Â 
    Renie’s job as sentry wasn’t easy, but she remained propped up at the door, clutching the pole that held her IV, and keeping Judith apprised of what was going on in the next room.
    â€œI can hear Margie sobbing,” Renie reported, “but at least she’s not yelling her head off.”
    â€œCan you ask somebody what happened to Bob Randall?” Judith urged, feeling supremely frustrated. The room seemed to be closing in on her; the windows were shrinking and the walls were shriveling. Judith felt as