Into the Aether_Part One(30)

“Why would I want to take a—”

“And another thing! Should I find one penny missing from my cash float—”

“You’ll string me up by my toenails from the ceiling,” he replied, remembering Lara saying this once.

“Your toenails if you’re lucky...” she said, leveling her gaze at him.

He wasn’t sure if she was serious, but it didn’t matter. He had no intention of taking anything that wasn’t his. “Of course, Ms. Warner,” he replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Linda smiled to herself. She grabbed the deposit bag from under the counter and put it into her purse. On her way out, she turned and said, “Thanks again, Greg,” and left.





Nine





Halfway to the admissions desk, Lara stopped and turned to face the entrance of the hospital, and watched Greg’s car pull out onto Darcy Street. She wished she hadn’t lost her temper at him. Shaking her head, she turned again and walked up to the thin, dark-complected man behind the desk. He looked about thirty to Lara, had black hair and a beard, and wore light blue scrubs. A name plate in front of him read ‘Receiving Nurse’.

“Hi there,” he said kindly. “How can I help you?” Fishing out her lime green wallet from her backpack, she replied, “I hurt myself around my stomach and I was hoping to have someone look at it.”

“Sure thing. Do you have insurance?” Lara pulled out her insurance card and gave it to him. Lara’s mother had gotten insurance for all of her employees; that is, until she had to lay off the other two. He entered the information on the card into the computer.

“How did you hurt yourself, Ms. Warner?” he asked, looking at the name on the card.

“Dodgeball,” she said quickly.

“When did this happen?”

“Today.”

The thin man asked her a series of questions about her medical history, allergies, and family doctor. Eventually, he said, “Okay, we’re pretty dead right now, so why don’t you head right on in?” He gestured to a door beside him. “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

Lara walked through a set of large doors to a hallway. They walked down the corridor together and into a larger room filled with beds divided by curtains. One of these beds held a large man dressed in a hospital gown. He was still wearing his construction boots.

The man led Lara to the furthest bed in the room. A small, neatly folded gown lay on top of it.

“Please change into the gown and a doctor will see you shortly,” the man said, and pulled the curtain closed to give her privacy. His shoes squeaked as he walked away down the hall. Lara held up the gown in front of her.

“There is no way I’m wearing this!” she said aloud and hopped onto the bed. Wincing slightly, she wrapped her arm around herself and reached for her backpack, then pulled out her computing text book. She started reading, but the various chimes, beeps, and murmurs of the Emergency Room kept her half distracted.

After fifteen minutes, footsteps approached her curtain.

“Ms. Warner?” asked a deep male voice. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, putting her book down. The doctor who parted the curtain was a trim, attractive man with short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a freshly pressed white shirt and a blue tie—which Lara thought really brought out his eyes—and wore a pristine white lab coat. Her eyes drifted down to the shining stethoscope around his neck.

Why, hello, Dr. Sexy, she thought, smiling.

He was looking at a brown folder with her name on it.

“I’m Dr. Seyfried. So, you hurt yourself playing at school?” he asked, still looking at her chart.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, looking into his eyes.

“What were you playing?”

“Dodgeball.”

He looked up at her, and then to the hospital gown on her bed.

“Did Jeff not tell you to put on the gown?”

“If you mean the guy who led me here, he did, but I’m not wearing that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s ugly.”

Dr. Seyfried chuckled. “I suppose it is. Could you lie on your back, please?” he said, taking the book and gown and placing them on the bedside table. “I’m going to lift up your shirt to have a look at your abdomen. Is that alright?”

“Yeah! I mean, whatever,” she replied, her cheeks flushing. Dr. Seyfried glanced up at her, the corners of his mouth pulling upward. He pulled her shirt up to the bottom of her ribcage, and his face lost its charming smile. With furrowed brows, he placed his fingertips on her stomach and pressed gently. Lara jumped slightly and he looked up at her.

“Pain?” he asked.

“No, your hands are cold!”

He quickly rubbed his hands together, then started touching her abdomen in various places, and eventually examined the individual ribs of her ribcage.

“How exactly did you get these marks, Lara?”

“I got hit with a ball from across the gym,” she replied, shifting in the bed.

“Did someone tackle you or strike you with something large?” Dr. Seyfried crossed his arms and looked right at her. Lara pulled her shirt down and scrambled into a sitting position. She tried to meet his gaze, but her eyes defiantly refused. “Lara, why don’t you tell me what really happened?”