What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(6)

“That’s not good.”

“It was bad.” Rae sounded like she was telling a horror story. “Because she was pregnant with me and she didn’t know it.”

“That’s really not good,” Brenda agreed.

“She had me early.” Rae’s voice got gloomy. “My daddy and my grandma took care of me, and they were sad. Then one day, my mommy woke from her comma.”

“Coma... Never mind. What happened?” Brenda sounded eager.

Dr. Brundage was clearly riveted, too, because she pulled up a stool, said in a quick low voice, “I’m stitching now,” and went to work.

Lucky for them both Rae had such a piercing voice.

“She woke up and...?” Brenda’s voice trailed off invitingly.

“She didn’t remember she had a little baby girl. She didn’t remember my daddy. She didn’t know where she was. So she got up and got dressed and left the hospital, and we didn’t know where she was!”

“Wow. That’s quite a story.” Brenda sounded as if she wasn’t sure she believed it. Sensible woman.

“Don’t you want to know where she was?” Rae asked.

“Sure!”

“She joined the Army. She got to be a captain. She got shot and blown up and stuff. That’s how she got to be ThunderFlash.”

“I thought she was ThunderBoomer,” Brenda said.

“I haven’t decided.”

“Makes total sense.”

Rae continued, “One day she came back from the war and she still didn’t remember.”

The stitches pulled and tugged at Kellen’s hip. She could hear Rae’s voice grow uncertain.

“She went to work at Yearning Sands Resort for Annie and Leo—they’re my great-great-aunt and uncle, because I like them a lot and they’re great. Mommy met my daddy and she saved people’s lives and she kind of remembered and she almost got killed and then I told her she was my mommy.” Rae’s voice wavered more and more.

“And then?”

“I think she believed me.”

Oh, God. Kellen was such a bad mother. Maybe a bad person. She had a daughter, a daughter she hadn’t known, and sure, she was trying to be a mother now. But it was tough. She didn’t know much, but she knew she wasn’t supposed to make Rae uncertain and scared. Mothers were supposed to be smart. She was supposed to be right. She was supposed to know what she was doing—and she didn’t know anything!

She had no instincts.

She was a bad mother.

“Stop worrying about it. No mother knows what she’s doing.” Dr. Brundage was reading her mind.

Or maybe Kellen was thinking out loud.

Dr. Brundage continued, “I had my daughter when I was in high school, I wouldn’t give her up to a good family, and I did everything wrong. But she’s a good kid, and she’s in premed. Rae’s a good kid, too. She’ll be okay.”

Out in the corridor, Max’s voice, wry and amused. “Honey, are you telling the whole hospital our family secrets?”

“No, Daddy, only about Mommy and me and you.”

“That’ll do it,” Max said. “Hi, Brenda.”

His tone must have made the elusive Brenda nervous, because she suddenly appeared at Kellen’s bedside. “I’m here, Doctor.”

Outside the door, Max said, “Grandma has arrived. She’s in the waiting room, and she’s going to the cafeteria.”

Kellen heard the steady thump-thump of Rae’s heels against the linoleum. “I want ice cream!”

“You’ll have to talk to Grandma about that,” Max said.

“Ice cream!”

“Don’t tell her I said you could.” Max could get quite a stern tone to his voice. “That would be lying!”

“Okay...” Rae’s enthusiasm audibly waned, and the sound of her boots faded in the distance.

Max stepped through the door.

Dr. Brundage finished her sutures, pulled off her gloves and stepped back to let Brenda cover the wound. “Who’s your next of kin?” she asked Kellen.

“I guess...Max. Why?” Kellen asked warily.

“You’re going to need care. Are you going home with him?”

“Yes,” Max said.

Dr. Brundage looked at Kellen for confirmation.

“Yes,” Kellen said.

“Good. Listen up, you two.” Dr. Brundage stared into Kellen’s eyes. “Although with the drugs I put into you, I don’t think you’ll remember. I’m keeping you here overnight. I’m not happy about the look of this puncture. We never want any kind of puncture with an unsterile object. I think we can safely say the roof tile was not sterile. We’re going to do a course of intravenous antibiotics. Then we’ll send you home with instructions and pain pills and—”

“I want to see the bitch!” In the corridor, Roderick’s belligerent voice got louder again. “Let me see the bitch. I want to see her now!”

Dr. Brundage looked up in annoyance. “Shut that door,” she said to Max.

But a harried-looking intern stuck his head in. “Dr. Brundage, I’m sorry. We’re transporting this guy to Portland for surgery, and he’s throwing a fit. He wants to speak to your patient.”