What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(9)

She wasn’t bored and she’d had plenty of sleep before Sully’s medical emergency, but by the time she stood at his bedside in the CCU at five in the morning she was so exhausted she could hardly stand up. She had the wiggles from too much caffeine, looked like bloody hell and hadn’t had a shower since leaving Denver for Sullivan’s Crossing. It reminded her of some of those days in residency when she stayed at the hospital for over forty-eight hours with only a catnap here and there. This time it was all stress.

She went home in her borrowed car to freshen up. She located an old wallet and purse, found a credit card she didn’t often use in her file cabinet and was back at the hospital by eight. By nine they were rousing Sully.

“Maggie, you gotta get me out of here,” he rasped. “They won’t leave me alone.”

“There’s nothing you can do but be your charming self,” she said.

“They got some breathing thing they force on me every hour,” he complained. “And I’m starving to death. And it feels like they opened my chest with a Black & Decker saw.”

“I’ll ask for more pain meds,” she offered. She lifted a hand toward the nurse and got a nod in return.

“Maggie, you gotta go run the store...”

“The store is fine. I called Enid an hour ago, gave her a progress report and checked on them. Frank stayed with her yesterday till closing, they took Beau home with them and they should be opening up about now. She’s going to call Tom Canaday and see if he has any extra time to help out. It’s all taken care of.”

He just groaned and closed his eyes. “’Bout time Frank worked off some of that coffee he’s been freeloading. What about you?” he asked.

“What about me? I’m here with you.”

He opened his eyes. They were not his usual warm or mischievous brown eyes. They were angry. “I’m not good with hospitals. I’ve never been in one before.”

She thought for a moment because surely he was wrong. “Huh,” she finally said. “Never? That’s something, Sully. Seventy years old and never spent a night in a hospital.”

“Turns out I knew what I was doing. Look what happens. They have a tube shoved up my—”

“Catheter,” she said.

“Get it out! Now!”

The nurse arrived with a syringe, putting it in the IV. “You should feel a lot better in just a few minutes, Mr. Sullivan.”

“How long do I have to stay here?”

“In the care unit? Just a day or two.”

“Then I can go home?”

“That’s a good question for the doctor, but it’s usually anywhere from three to eight days.”

“I’ll do two,” he said without missing a beat. “That’s all I got.”

“There’s recovery time involved after heart surgery, Dad,” Maggie said.

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to stay with you. Take care of you.”

He was quiet for a moment. “God help me,” he whispered.

We’re going to need a lot more drugs, Maggie thought.

*



A great deal of maneuvering was required for Maggie to get her affairs in order, so to speak.

According to Enid, Tom Canaday, their handyman and helper, was going to adjust his schedule to spend more time at Sully’s. Tom had a lot of jobs—he drove a tow truck, worked on car repairs in a service station, drove a plow in winter and did road work in summer, which kept him on the county payroll. He did a variety of handyman and maintenance jobs around the area. He’d do just about anything if the money was right because he was a single father with four kids aged twelve to nineteen. Sometimes he’d bring one or two along to help him or just to hang out with him. And now, when Tom couldn’t work, he could send his oldest son, Jackson, the nineteen-year-old.

Maggie asked Enid if she could come to Denver to pick her up, drive her back to Sully’s where she would get her own car and some incidentals like her cell phone, purse, extra clothes, makeup and the like. Also, she would get some clothing and a shaving kit for Sully, who was not going back home soon, a subject she was not looking forward to discussing with him.

Enid said she’d be at the hospital in the morning. “Can I see him when I get there?” she asked.

“You don’t want to see him, Enid. He’s a huge pain in the ass. He’s been complaining and trying to get out of here from the minute he arrived and the fact that he can hardly get out of bed hasn’t deterred him one bit.”

“Well, I could’ve told you it would be like that.”

*



Maggie was waiting outside the hospital’s front entrance for Enid when who should pull up in a banged-up old red pickup truck but Frank. Maggie sighed. Just what I need—two hours held captive by Frank.

All the way back to Sullivan’s Crossing, Frank droned on and on about the evils of government in every conspiracy theory ever imagined, including his belief that commercial jetliners were spraying the atmosphere with enhanced jet stream in an effort to lower the temperature of the earth to combat global warming. “Of which there ain’t no damn such thing anyhow.”

By the time they got back to the crossing, she was exhausted all over again. “I can’t believe you did that to me,” she said to Enid.