Read Online Suture Self by Mary Daheim - Free Book Online Page A

if she were in a cage instead of a bed.
    Renie glared at Judith. “If I draw any more attentionto myself, they’ll probably make me go back inside and close the door.”
    Her cousin had a point. Judith tried to relax. She could hear the distorted sounds of the hospital loudspeaker, summoning certain parties to specific places. “Okay,” Judith inquired, “who do you think is in Randall’s room besides Margie and Dr. Van Boeck and the other guy?”
    â€œA couple of nurses, maybe,” Renie said. “What’s her name? Appleby? Oh, and Sister Jacqueline, but she just came out and is headed”—Renie paused—“right past me. She’s going to the nurses’ station.”
    The doctor who had reminded Renie of Ronald Colman came back into the hallway. He caught Renie’s eye and scowled.
    â€œWould you mind stepping back into your own room, please?” he said in a cold, cultured voice.
    â€œI kind of would,” Renie replied. “What about the patient’s right to know?”
    â€œKnow?” snapped the physician, his fine silvery mustache quivering with outrage. “What do you need to know? Please go back inside and close your door.”
    â€œOkay,” Renie said, but didn’t budge. Apparently the doctor wasn’t used to being disobeyed, since he didn’t look back, but resumed his quick pace down the corridor.
    â€œBack to the play-by-play,” said Renie. “Coming in out of the bullpen and onto the mound, otherwise known as Bob Randall’s room, is Peter Garnett, chief of surgery.” She relayed the information she’d gotten off the man’s name tag. “His ERA, otherwise known as Good Cheer’s mortality rate, is way up. No wonder he looks so bad.”
    A moment later, two orderlies bodily carried MargieRandall out of her husband’s room. She looked as if she’d fainted. The little group moved off in the opposite direction. Then, before Renie could recount what had happened, two more orderlies appeared, on the run.
    â€œMore action on the field,” Renie said. “Margie struck out—as in out cold—and another pair of orderlies have been called in from the dugout.” She’d barely finished speaking when the orderlies reappeared, pushing what looked like Bob Randall on a gurney. His face was covered with a sheet, and Renie let out a little squawk as the entourage all but flew down the hall, then disappeared into an elevator that must have been waiting for them.
    â€œOh, dear.” Renie gulped and crossed herself. “I think Bob’s just been taken out of the game.”
    â€œWhat’s the rush?” Judith asked. “Maybe he’s not really dead.”
    But Renie sounded dubious. “He looked pretty dead to me.” She lingered in the doorway, but events seemed to have come to a standstill. Several staff members were still talking in groups of twos and threes, but the high-pitched excitement of the past few minutes had dwindled into muffled voices and slumped shoulders. Robbie the Robot scooted down the hall, blinking and beeping to announce his passage.
    â€œCall for the nurse, any nurse,” Renie said, finally returning to her bed. “They’ll come for you. Whoa.” She collapsed, still clinging to her IV stand. “I’m not ready for prime time. I feel all wobbly.”
    Judith pressed the button. “I could use a dose of painkiller,” she said. “It’s been a while.”
    But it was almost half an hour before Corinne Appleby appeared, her face flushed and her manner stillagitated. “I’m supposed to be off duty at eleven,” she said with a quick glance at her watch, “but as you probably know, we have had an emergency. I have to stay a bit longer. I’ll take your vitals now and then get some more pain medication.”
    The nurse’s fingers fumbled with the thermometer; she gave herself