Perfect Match (30 page)

“How is my favorite novelist?”

“I guess okay.” Her weak smile faded quickly. She gave a
half-hearted shrug.

There were a few moments of silence.

“Roscoe, when was the worst time you ever felt all alone?”

“Have to think about that.” He looked out the window
reflecting back over the years. “I think the loneliest time for me was when I
was a teenager, but a little younger than you.”

“Really?”

“Yep. My brother had gone off to college and I was the only
other child in my family. My parents were…well…they were wrapped up in
themselves. In a way I never felt like I was part of a family. My parents never
had time for my brother and me.”

Concern spread across her face. “That sounds so sad.”

He smiled. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad.” He
studied her a moment. “I felt all alone in the hospital until I met you.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel in a better mood?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. I’m saying it because
it’s true. I’ve learned lots from talking with you. You’re a very interesting
young woman.”

She almost smiled, but not enough to wipe away her sad eyes.

“Are you feeling alone today, Selena?”

She looked at him and back down at her clasped hands in her
lap. “A little.”

“Want to tell me about it.”

She held her head up, trying to look her normal self. “Oh,
it’s nothing.” There was a slight pause. “My mom has gotten busier with her
work.”

“You never told me where you mom works.”

Oops, better stay clear of that topic, she thought. She
waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, I can’t remember…some office job some place.
That’s not important. I have to remind myself that parents have to work.” She
thought a moment. “But I felt a little bit alone when I learned that you were
going to be released from the hospital.” She looked at him, her eyebrows
raised.

“That’s news to me. Where’d you hear it?”

Her first giggle of the day came, as she said, “Now you know
I don’t reveal my sources.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about protecting your sources.”

“Okay, this one time I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath.
“I caught a snippet of conversation from the nurses’ station about room 405
becoming available by tomorrow afternoon.”

He laughed. “Guess I’d better go pack.”

She tried to smile. “I should be happy for you, but I’m
going to miss talking with you.” A moment of silence. “Oh, I’d better pack up
your laptop and return it to you.”

“Forget about the laptop, Selena. I told you to use it as
long as you need to. Give me your mom’s number and I’ll call her and ask if I
may give the computer to you, or maybe I can meet her in the next day or so.”

“Oh, no, my mom’s too busy to be bothered.” She thought,
just what I need, getting mom involved at this point. Thank Goodness she’s on a
trip to Hong Kong.

Roscoe thought her response was quick and edgy, but he let
it drop.

“That reminds me; I’ve read and re-read the first five
chapters of your novel. When can I read more? I’m hooked, especially on the
lead woman character.”

“How so?” Selena was glad to get away from the idea of
Roscoe calling her mom.

“Hmm, she seems almost likable, well okay, lovable. Not sure
how to use that word in connection with a thirty-four year-old woman.” He shook
his head. “But on the other hand, from your description, she’s attractive,
intelligent, and comes across in the story as being a fun person. But by the
end of the fifth chapter she’s got me worried that she’s going to make some
wrong decisions that she might regret.”

“Like what?”

“She seems impressed by the rich guy’s wealth, and he almost
seems decent, but then again there’s something dark about him.”

“What makes you think that?”

“In a couple places you show how he lied to his neighbor and
then how he threatened a waitress, while out to dinner. To me that sort of
paints him as future trouble.”

“What about the second guy?”

“He’s more genuine, more natural. As a guy I can relate to
him. But you’ve indicated in your novel that he’s not exactly a saint. He’s had
a few brushes with the law, and has a borderline drinking problem, in addition
to chasing, uh…women.”

“Anything else?” Selena kept digging for Roscoe’s reaction
to her writing.

“I can tell both men are attracted to the woman physically,
but the genuine guy, the auto mechanic, seems to like her for more than just
how attractive she is. Neither of these guys is perfect. Somehow she deserves
better. But I will say one thing that struck me about the auto mechanic. He
likes her teenage son, and the son likes hanging out with the mechanic. You can
tell the guy who owns the auto dealership does not like kids at all. But he’s
putting up a false front around the woman.”

Roscoe paused.

“When can I read more?”

Selena felt better after listening to Roscoe’s reaction to her
writing, but she was growing tired and her paleness was stark. He had noticed.

She said, “Believe it or not, I’ve finished my novel. I have
another three or four chapters to edit. I might make some last minute changes.”
She beamed. “I’ll be anxious for you to read it.”

He eyed her. “You know you’re keeping me in suspense, and
when are you going to name the woman character? Right now, in the manuscript,
you’ve got ‘xox’ for her name.”

“I’m still deciding on the name I’ll give her.” Selena had
already decided on the name for the female lead character. She’d held off
telling Roscoe.

He studied Selena carefully. “You know, there’s something
pleasant about the woman’s character that reminds me of you. Can’t put my
finger on it, but the hint is there. You’re not this woman are you?”

“Ha! Not a chance. I would never base a character on me.
That’s a no-no for writers unless they’re trying to write an autobiography.”

She paused.

“If you’re released from the hospital tomorrow, I really
will miss you Roscoe. You’re fun to talk with. You’re the only man I’ve talked
with about my writing, and your feedback has been helpful. I almost forgot.
There is one other man who has given me feedback on my writing…a friend of mine
in school. Trevor told me he likes my writing. He’s a really nice guy.” Her
face grew a little sad.

Roscoe said, “I met a Trevor Drake here in the sunroom a few
days ago. Is that the same one?”

She nodded her head.

“You do know he likes you?”

“I know, but I haven’t wanted to lead him on?”

“What’s that mean?”

A little agitated, she said, “With my health situation, I
haven’t wanted to get involved with someone with…with my future so uncertain.”

He pondered that a moment. “Maybe you should let Trevor
decide that.”

She shrugged. After a moment she said, “I don’t feel well. I
think I need to lie down.”

“Before you go let me tell you something.” He reached for
her hand, resting on the arm of her wheelchair. He took a deep breath and
exhaled. “You’re a terrific writer, and I know you must be a wonderful
daughter, and you’re a special friend to me. I hope we can exchange emails and
phone calls, and while you’re in the hospital I’ll drop by to see you, if
that’s okay. Maybe I’ll bump into your mom when I visit you.”

Selena flinched slightly at that last idea, but she tried to
remain composed. Didn’t work. He felt the reaction in her hand.

He continued, “I want you to know that you’re in my prayers
every day, and I’m hopeful that something good will come up on that transplant
list for you. I have a very positive feeling about this.” He held his look for
a moment. He gave a little squeeze to her limp hand, and then released it.

“Thanks. You’re really a good man and good friend.” Her eyes
had watered.

“But don’t get your hopes up about me being released
tomorrow. My foot’s been throbbing like crazy all day.”

After Selena went to her room and got back in her bed,
feeling drained of energy, Roscoe wheeled to his room with a new determination.

His foot was fine, but was about to become worse.

3:00 p.m., Monday

The doctor hovered over Roscoe’s foot, shaking his head. “I
don’t understand this. The report from the physical therapist said everything
was fine for you to be released. The flesh was healing just right. You have no
fever…don’t suspect new infection, but I don’t understand all this redness.
What’s your take Rachel?”

She’d been eyeing Roscoe, while he gave his rendition of
facial grimaces, just as the big tough pro football players do on TV, after a
hard tackle. All artificial, but he was trying.

“Hard to say,” then she snapped at Roscoe, “what happened to
three of the stitches?”

“Beats me, maybe my sock pulled them loose or something.” He
shrugged lying back on his bed.

The doctor was still scrutinizing the foot. Rachel was
giving her trademark penetrating look at Roscoe. He was slowly shaking his head
from side to side.

The doctor rose up with a huff. “We have to replace those
stitches, check out a couple of other things in the morning, maybe another
X-ray, but I’m pretty sure we can get you released by day after tomorrow. Your
foot will hold the Guinness record for taking the longest to heal. Beats me.”
He puffed up his cheeks and let out a blast of air, as he stalked from the
room.

After the doctor left, Rachel stared at Roscoe’s foot again,
and then at him, still propped up on his inclined bed. Standing at the foot of
his bed she said, “Want to tell me what’s really going on with you?”

He thought a long moment. “I will tell you, if you’ll meet
back in my room tonight at eight o’clock.”

She snapped, “Fallington, I don’t have time for games with
you. I go off duty tonight at seven.”

“I know… that’s why I’d like to meet with you at eight.”

Losing her cool she said, “Listen to me! You should never
have been placed on this floor to begin with. Patients assigned to the Dialysis
Unit are some very sick people. The only reason you’re on this floor is because
it was the only available bed when you were admitted.

“You should’ve been moved to another floor before now, but I
made the mistake to let you stay where you were because I thought you were
making some progress with attitude issues.”

She took a deep breath and continued her rant.

“I’ve been doing nursing over 25 years, and I’ve never had a
patient as perplexing as you. You were trouble from day one. You were rude to
everyone, you were belligerent, you threw things, you pitched tantrums, you
groused about everything, and you left the hospital without authorization to
take some damn joy-ride to get coffee.” Her voice reached new levels of shrill.
“And now of all things I suspect you are malingering for some strange reason.
There, I said it and I hope you heard me loud and clear. What are you afraid of
out there?” Both arms jabbed toward the front of the building. “Are you trying
not to get well so you can avoid working?”

Before Roscoe could answer, Rachel turned for the door.
“Well, I’ll have none of this on my watch. I’m going to get your ass out of
this hospital.” She grabbed for the door handle.

Roscoe said quietly, “Rachel.”

She looked back at him.

He said. “Most of what you said is true.” He paused a
moment. “I’ve alienated most people I’ve come in contact with in my life. I
don’t have any real friends. You and three other people are as close to a
friend as I’ve got. I need your friendship tonight at eight o’clock, and after
that I promise I will never, ever trouble you again.”

She looked at him a long moment. “I have other patients I
need to check on.” The door clicked behind her.

Roscoe let out a long sigh, as he reached for his phone. He
left voice mail again for Trevor on his phone, his lab workstation in the
Cobalt Medical Center, and the department of student affairs at the community
college.

He looked at the wall clock.

He waited.

Down the hall, after resting awhile, Selena was hovering
over the laptop, fingers poised as she edited the last two chapters of her
novel. Her mind shuffled through her selection of word choices to give her
writing the edge that would keep her readers in suspense. She’d worked and
reworked her manuscript, tweaking sentences and dialogue.

Her hands trembled, but she pushed on. She had moments of
confusion and forgetfulness, but she shook her head and forced herself to edit
sentence after sentence. She let her head fall back against her pillow, taking
deep breaths, and praying silently for the strength to complete her novel. She
persevered.

On the software menu she selected Replace, typed in the box
Find what: xox, and then in the box Replace with: she typed in the name of her
lead female character. She hit the Replace All button. Her lead character now
had a name. It is finished, she thought.
Thank you, Lord. I know my novel is
finished, but I’m not going to see it published am I Lord
? Her thinking
paused.
Am I
? There was silence.

After making her last correction, her fingers hesitated
before typing ‘The End’ on the last page of her four-hundred page
romance-suspense novel.

She rested her head on her pillow. A tear crested her
eyelid, and trailed slowly down her pale cheek.

Roscoe ordered several items from the hospital menu for
supper. He was not on a restricted diet so he ordered double portions of
fruits, salads, other vegetables and meats. He knew some of it would taste like
cardboard, but at this point he didn’t care. He just needed the nutrition.
Maybe he’d catch up with taste later.

Earlier he’d finally gotten a call back from Trevor. The
conversation was a little awkward, but Trevor had agreed to come to his room by
8:00 p.m. As the afternoon had ticked by, Rachel had not been back to his room.
Roscoe was concerned that she wouldn’t show up at eight o’clock. Then where
would he be?