No Fault of Mine

Chapter Twelve

Stan jumped up and surveyed the area before he helped me get on my feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What the hell?" My head was bursting with pain, and I felt dizzy. "No, I'm not okay. " I held my head with both hands, and my right hand came in contact with a volcano-sized knot on the back of my head.

"What's this?" Stan asked, taking my hand. "You're bleeding." He turned me around and inspected my skull. "Stay here. I need to get a towel."

I leaned back against the car for support. I felt dazed and lightheaded and didn't trust my legs. I couldn't focus my eyes, though I could make out Stan's shape as he ran toward his pickup.

The world around me had begun to move, and my legs, no longer able to hold me, collapsed. I don't remember falling to the ground. In fact, I don't remember anything until I heard Stan calling my name. His voice sounded strident, and he was holding my head. I felt his body next to mine, and I thought how odd it was, and that I didn't remember giving him permission to touch me.

"Don't move," he said.

I don't remember trying to move, but I do remember trying to see his face, which, in my vision, was a splash of color.

"What happened," I asked. I remembered the car. I remember shots fired. I remembered ending up on the ground. But the blood? Was I bleeding? I couldn't remember why I was bleeding. But I was pretty sure I smelled blood.

"You're okay, but you bumped your head when we fell," he said.

"Oh," I said numbly. I remember falling with his arms wrapped around me. I remember a burst of light as my head hit the ground. I remember him on top of me.

"I have your phone. I need to call your sister. What's your security code?"

I heard the urgency in his voice. I heard sirens in the distance.

I wonder who's hurt.

"Mia, do you want me to call your sister?" He spoke each word with the precision of a marching band drummer.

"Yes," I said.

"I need your code to call your sister."

I gave him the code and let myself slip under something that felt like a blanket. My world drifted into confusion: sirens, loud talking, someone touching my body, lifting my body onto a gurney. I vaguely remember the voices and noise of the emergency room: someone telling me they were there to help me, that they needed a CT scan, and that they were going to stitch up my head. I suppose I gave them permission, but I didn't care at that point.

Just let me sleep.

I don't remember if I said it out loud, but I sure thought it.

The sun was streaming through the window of my room when I woke. I had a painful headache, and I was thirsty.

"Well, the patient awakes." A face looked down at me. My eyes focused to discover that the face belonged to my sister.

"Hi," I said and licked my lips.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked. I nodded, and she placed a straw on my lip. I drank greedily.

"You had us worried," she said. "The docs say you have a concussion. They kept you in the hospital overnight for observation. You had quite a bump on the back of your head."

"Thank you for coming," I said.

"Stan was still here when I arrived and told me what had happened." She put her hand on my arm. "I'm so glad that you're okay."

"I'm glad that you and Luke agreed to be godparents," I said, placing my hand over hers. "I don't understand what's going on, but I know that Brant will be in good hands if something should happen to me."

"Hey, don't get all end-of-the-world on me."

"Yeah, well, this has motivated me to rethink my priorities, like the job versus Brant."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate more of your time, but right now, focus on getting well and out of this dreary room."

"Is it dreary? I hadn't noticed."

"How's she doing?" a nurse asked as she came into my room.

"Like I need a shower," I said.

"Well, then, you must be doing better," the nurse said. "A doctor is making rounds. She's on our floor now and will get to you soon." The nurse began taking Mia's vital signs by placing a thermometer in her mouth and taking her pulse.

"Will she be going home today?" Pia asked.

"It's up to the doctor. Let's see what she says," the nurse said. "To order breakfast, just use the phone and the number at the bedside, or Pia can get your breakfast and hers from the cafeteria on the second floor. You might try one of their omelets. They're made to order."

Before Pia headed for the cafeteria, she took my order. I opted for a small omelet, fruit, and coffee. As Pia was leaving, the doctor arrived. The nurse completed taking my vitals and waited for the doctor to complete her exam.

After an exchange of pleasantries, the doctor said, "You had quite an impact to the head yesterday, but your skull is fine, and the bleed in your brain was minor. We confirmed by a CT scan that the bleeding in the brain had stopped, so we don't think surgery is necessary."

"I couldn't focus my eyes after the injury yesterday. I seem to see fine now, but I'm concerned."

"Your occipital lobe took most of the shock when your head hit the ground," the doctor said. "It likely shook up the neurons in your visual cortex, but it's likely temporary. It's sort of like bruising a muscle. You may experience some visual distortion for a week or two. If the problem persists, see your doctor."

"Can I take a shower?" I asked.

The doctor turned to the nurse and asked her to put on a waterproof dressing. The doctor removed the bandage the emergency room doctors put on last night and inspected my wound. I was given a clean bill of health with a few restrictions: finish my antibiotics, rest only, no driving, no exercise (such as housekeeping and walking) for the next 48 hours, and if I developed any symptoms on an instruction paper the nurse gave me, I was to go to the emergency room. The doctor said she'd return in the early afternoon to check on me, and if nothing had changed, I'd be released.

Pia returned to my room just as the nurse completed putting on the waterproof dressing.

"Now you won't have to go home in a hospital gown," the nurse said.

I had visions of putting on my blood-saturated top, but Pia pointed to a sack sitting next to the chair and gave me a knowing grin.

My breakfast was better than I had anticipated, but it had been more than twenty-four hours since my last meal.

As I was preparing for my shower, I asked Pia about my car. She said that Luke and Brant drove down with her, and Stan drove them to where my car was parked.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," she said, "Stan gave me a detective's business card. He asked that you call him within twenty-four hours."

I groaned.