Alone (Detective D.D. Warren, #1)(57)
“To the house where his father died?” James asked dryly.
“To the comfort of his own bedroom.”
James thinned his lips. He and Maryanne exchanged glances. Catherine turned swiftly to Nurse Brandi.
“I'd like to see Nathan now.”
“Of course.”
“I'm sure someone must be filling in for Dr. Rocco. Please find that doctor and have him sign the discharge papers so I can take Nathan home.” Catherine held up the Louis Vuitton bag she was carrying. “I'll work on getting my son into his clothes.”
Maryanne spoke up brightly. “Why don't we get him dressed, darling, while you deal with the paperwork? Surely that will be much faster for everyone.”
“Absolutely,” James agreed enthusiastically. “Wonderful idea!”
Catherine was getting a pounding headache. She smiled anyway. “That is so kind of both of you, really. But I just miss Nathan terribly; I can't imagine not seeing him right away.”
“We also can't wait to see our grandson!” Maryanne again, so gay, she sounded brittle.
“You're entirely too kind. But Nathan's health is still very fragile. After everything he's been through the past three days, I think it would be best if he just saw me for now—tone down the excitement. Tomorrow, of course, you're more than welcome to come to our home.” Catherine put her hand on Nurse Brandi's arm, a little more forceful now, a little more insistent. “Nathan?” she prodded.
“Of course.”
The nurse gave James and Maryanne one last uncertain look, then briskly led Catherine down the hall. Behind her, Catherine was keenly aware that her in-laws weren't turning to leave. In fact, at the mention of a replacement doctor for Tony, James had gotten a gleam in his eye.
James and Maryanne never went down without a fight. Most likely, Catherine didn't have much time.
In the curtained-off space, Nathan was sitting up in the hospital bed. His color was better. His abdomen no longer protruded painfully. He still looked tiny to her, lost in a sea of white sheets and black wires. There was nothing quite so grotesque as a hospital gown on a child.
“Baby,” she whispered.
Nathan looked up at her with his solemn blue eyes. He said clearly, “Where's Prudence?”
“Today's her day off,” Catherine said steadily. “I'm going to take you home. Would you like to go home?”
Nathan looked around the room, at the IV, at the heart monitor. “Am I better?” he whispered, looking suddenly and unbearably uncertain.
“Yes.”
He nodded more decisively. “Then I would like to go home.”
“Let's get you dressed.”
Nurse Brandi removed the IV needle, then pushed aside the heart monitor.
“The discharge papers?” Catherine prompted, her gaze already flicking nervously behind her.
“Of course.”
Brandi disappeared down the hallway. Catherine plastered a fresh smile on her face and turned back to her son. “I brought you your favorite outfit. Jeans, boots, the cowboy shirt.”
She briskly opened the bag, laying out the clothes on the edge of the bed. Nathan seemed subdued, but finally, he shrugged off his hospital gown.
“Was it a dream?” he asked.
Catherine knew instantly what he meant. “No,” she said.
“Daddy had a gun.”
“Yes.”
“Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
Nathan nodded and started to pull on his clothes. He had just finished buttoning his flannel cowboy shirt when James and Maryanne appeared with a man in surgical scrubs in tow.
“Nathan!” James boomed heartily. “It's my favorite cowboy! Ready to saddle up? Your grandmother and I would love to have you come join us at the Hotel LeRoux. Room service, Nathan. All the hot fudge sundaes you can eat.”
Nathan regarded his grandfather as if he'd sprouted two heads. James rarely paid Nathan quite this much attention. And in fact, ice cream made Nathan unbelievably ill.
Unperturbed, James turned to Catherine. The flush of triumph was unmistakable on his face. “Catherine, meet Dr. Gerritsen, head of Pediatrics. I think you two should have a talk. In the meantime, Maryanne and I will stay here with Nathan.”
Maryanne had already stepped forward, reaching out a hand toward Nathan. The yearning expression on her face was hard to bear. Did she look at her grandson and see her last link to Jimmy? Or did she merely see another kind of a weapon, a living, breathing tool that could be used to hurt Catherine?
Dr. Gerritsen was trying to gesture Catherine out into the hallway. She refused to budge. All James and Maryanne needed was thirty seconds, and Nathan would be gone. Possession, after all, was nine-tenths of the law.
Dr. Gerritsen finally gave up, stepping into the now crowded space and focusing his attention on Nathan. The pediatrician held a chart in his right hand.
“How are you feeling, young man?” Dr. Gerritsen asked.
“Okay.” In fact, Nathan was regarding all four adults nervously.
“According to your chart, everything looks good.”
“Where's Dr. Tony?” Nathan asked.
“Dr. Rocco couldn't be here today, Nathan, so I'm helping out. Is that okay?”
The boy merely stared at Dr. Gerritsen. He didn't like doctors, particularly new doctors, and his gaze said he was already suspicious.