Send the Snowplow (6 page)

This can’t be happening. I’m still in bed, it’s Christmas Eve and none of this is real.
Jaycee blew out a deep breath then headed back to the commons room.
Okay, so it’s real. A girl can hope, right?

There was no way she would have predicted what met her eyes upon her arrival. The floor was miraculously clean, and while Harold, Walter, and Marilyn, appeared somewhat contrite, they still eyed each other from opposite areas of the room.

That’s just fine. You can pout all you want, but this isn’t the time to get into a philosophical discussion of blame.
They deserved to feel at least a little bad about the drama they’d helped create. Jaycee ignored them and headed straight to Brad’s bedside. “Sorry about the wait, it takes a minute in the dark.” Okay, that was a little white lie, but much preferable from what she wanted to say.
Hey, sorry for the wait, but the other nurse, and the nursing assistant are banging one out in the physical therapy room, and you know, I just had to watch that...”
No, she had no real intention of saying anything of the time, but if she ever wrote a book about Pleasant Meadows, the staff gossip alone would make it an international bestseller. But, recalling the events of the day, she shook her head. Hell, the whole place was half a brick shy of a load. It had to be in the water. Another reason she drank so much diet soda. Water purification. Right? She injected the contents of the syringes into a port on Brad’s chest. 

Within moments, his labored breathing and restless movements calmed. Valerie held his hand. “He’s so stubborn. I know he wants to spend every moment with me, but it kills me to watch him hurt.”

“I heard you.” Brad’s voice came out soft and slurred. Good signs the medication was doing its job.

Valerie bent and kissed his cheek. “I know you did. But, it’s the truth.”

Jaycee’s head whirled with possible solutions to Brad’s pain issues. “You’re both right. I’ve got some thoughts on how to make it better. As soon as we get power, I’ll call the doctor and ask.” She glanced around the room. Mrs. Abadie and Mr. Grayson were still absent—along with their families. She scrubbed a hand across her forehead. “I need a pharmacist.” She eyed the messy remnants to the spaghetti dinner. “And a kitchen staff, housekeeping, nursing staff...” Then jerked a thumb in the general direction of the three still glaring miscreant residents. “And a psychiatrist.”

Valerie laughed. Another good sign. “They fought the entire time they were cleaning up the mess. I think I learned some new swear words.”

Jaycee managed to laugh herself. “I bet you did.” Her cell phone rang and vibrated from her pocket. She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and noticed Derek’s number and photo. Jaycee slid her finger over the ignore button. “Low battery and no sleep. I think the soon-to-be ex can deal with my voice mail.”

Valerie gave her a big pregnant hug. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Jaycee shrugged. “It wasn’t my decision, but someone told me what I choose to do now is mine.” Her facial muscles tightened as she thought of Chris and Diana in the PT room. “He was right about that much.” Her phone rang again. Exasperated, she pulled it out and looked at it. “This one? I need to take.” She motioned toward a corner.

Loud bangs and yells met her ears as she switched the call on. Clarissa’s shrill voice filled her ears. “Mom! He’s being a jerk.”

And, your point?
“What am I supposed to do about it from here?”

***

The once immaculate living room now looked like the aftermath of a frat house party—minus the alcohol. Dirty dishes, junk food packages, soda bottles, video games, and movies covered every available surface. The presents, however, were still wrapped and under the tree. Somehow, Clarissa thought this would do little to appease Mom’s anger when she got home—if she got home.

Jake grabbed a pillow from the couch and lobbed it at her. She deflected it, and the cushion landed on the coffee table, knocking part of the mess onto the carpet.

Mom’s voice came over the phone speaker. “What was that? Where’s Miranda?”

Where she always is, duh?
“In the family room, watching TV.”

Another pillow bashed Clarissa in the head. She grabbed it, ran over, and smacked Jake with it. Not helping, but it sure felt good.

Jake lobbed another throw pillow and hit her. Within seconds, a full-on pillow battle ensued. Tables and lamps fell to the floor. A pillow ripped open, and feathers filled the air. In an attempt to get a heavier cushion out of Jake’s hands, they both fell and knocked the couch over. Clarissa’s cell phone skittered across the floor. 

Clarissa eyed it as Mom’s voice came through the speaker. “Jake, Clarissa? Knock it off right NOW!”

She scrambled out of the tangle of her brother’s legs, and the mess of upturned couch, lamps and pillows to grab the phone. It was a good thing they weren’t on Facetime or Skype. Their only hope was to clean things up before she got home. Dead for Christmas wasn’t part of her plan, but she wouldn’t blame Mom too much right now if that’s not exactly what happened. “It’s not my fault. He started it.”

“I don’t care. Fix it. Now.”

She meant business.

Jake stood up from the upended couch, torn pillow in hand, covered in feathers. He glanced around at the mess. “She helped!”

Mom’s voice yelled over him. “And go get Miranda! I’m paying her to keep you two from killing each other and destroying the house. She’s failing.”

***

Jaycee disconnected the call, then wound back as if to throw her phone, then shoved it into her pocket instead. New phones still cost money. Marilyn slid over next to her and nudged her arm. “I need to go to the little girls’ room.” Her voice was soft, almost contrite.

Jaycee shook her head. “What? So, go.” She offered Marilyn a flashlight.

The scream queen’s tone lowered, and if anything became more urgent. “I need you to go with me.”

She couldn’t help it. Jaycee gave her a blank stare. Marilyn pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “It’s dark. People die here. There might be ghosts.”

Really?
She eyed Marilyn as though she should hunt for alien mind control probes, or something. This was unexpected. “A wall full of horror movie posters, and you’re afraid of—ghosts?”

Marilyn cast furtive glances at Harold and Walter. “Shhhh. Don’t tell them. I’ll never live it down.”

Jaycee closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. A horror movie star afraid of ghosts. Now she’d seen it all. She jerked her head down the hall in the direction of the bathroom. To Marilyn, she lowered her voice, “Come on, let’s go.” Aloud, she continued, “Marilyn’s going to come help me round up more blankets.”

Marilyn gave her a dramatic smile. The pair headed down the hallway, flashlight in tow. The slender white-haired actress clung to Jaycee’s arm.

Not surprisingly, the patient rooms were not only chilly, they were downright cold. Jaycee rubbed her arms together and paced as she watched the huge flakes fall from Marilyn’s window. Taunting her, each one of them.

Marilyn padded out of the bathroom and looked around. “It’s not as dark in here as I thought it would be.”

Jaycee shook her head. “Not for another half hour. Cold, yes. Dark, not so much.” She took Marilyn by the elbow and led her to the hallway. “Let’s go. I’ve got to get Mrs. Abadie and Mr. Grayson since Diana and Chris are taking their own sweet time finding flashlights.” She made no effort to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

Chapter 12

By the time they made it back to the commons room, Mr. Grayson’s bed already occupied one corner of the room. The frail skeleton of a man dozed with his son and daughter at his bedside, the faint hiss of a portable oxygen tank accompanying his quiet breathing beneath the mask covering his face. Good. Jaycee shuddered at the image of Diana and Chris in the PT room. She didn’t have time to worry about them now, there were much more important things at hand, and after all the worrying about making the wrong decisions where Chris was concerned? Not a problem anymore.

 Jaycee went to check on Brad as Chris and Diana wheeled in Mrs. Abadie’s bed. Even though a beautiful Middle Eastern hijab scarf covered her head, it was obvious she was bald beneath it. Her husband followed close behind. The Afghani woman who risked not only her own, but her entire families and villages lives to help translate for American allied forces during the war, was now unresponsive.

Heat burned a trail of fire up Jaycee’s neck and flared across her cheeks. She grabbed a flashlight. Marilyn stuck her tongue out at Walter. He scowled in return. “It’s time for Walter’s meds. I’ll be back.” It was actually a little early for Walter’s meds, but she didn’t want to deal with either Chris or Diana yet. What was she supposed to say or do? Slap him? Cry? Acting like nothing had happened at all until she figured it out seemed like the safest option. She took off before Chris had time to respond.

Inside the quiet confines of the med room, Jaycee poured pills into a paper cup. She tensed as the door opened and Chris slipped up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled the back of her neck. It took every ounce of self-control she had to not shove him away as hard as she could. It was probably her imagination, but she was certain she smelled Diana’s Walmart clearance aisle perfume on him, too. “I can’t wait to get you alone. All this waiting is making me crazy.”

It was all she could do to not gag. She stiffened and pulled away. Chris rubbed her shoulders. “You okay?”

Uhhh no.
Jaycee pasted a smile on her face and turned around. “Two hours of sleep is catching up.”

Chris gave her a sympathetic smile and nod. “No kidding. We’ll divide it up so all of us get longer naps tonight.”

Jaycee shuddered. “All I want for Christmas is to get out of here, so a snowplow tops on the list.” She brushed past Chris and hurried down the hall as fast as she could.

The setting sun made the lack of light even more evident. Jaycee handed Walter his pills and a glass of water. He swallowed them then pointed at his feet. “Something’s not right with my shoes. Help me fix them.”

Jaycee nodded, helped him take them off, adjusted his socks, then re-tied them while Walter stuck his tongue out at Marilyn. Would those two ever give it a rest? Seriously? Marilyn glared at him and flicked her fingers under her chin. Back to the Mafia gestures. She should give up nursing and just film these two. YouTube sensations made a lot of money, right? Walter gave Marilyn a broad grin. He shuffled his feet a few times and shook his head. “It’s still not right. We should try again.”

Or maybe not.
Jaycee stood up. “Give it a minute. I’ve got to check on some things. If it’s not better, I’ll have Diana come help you.” Tying shoes hardly qualified as skilled nursing care under the circumstances.

“But you fix them so much better.” Walter’s voice sounded like he’d taken whining lessons from a two year-old.

Jaycee fake whined in return, “It doesn’t take a registered nurse to tie your shoes.” She caught sight of Harold, a gleam in his eye, eating popcorn and observing everyone like he was in the front row of movie, watching an Academy Award-winning film. She glanced between Marilyn and Walter. Her eyes narrowed.
Afraid of ghosts? Tie my shoes?
It was a game to them. Who could command more of her time. Well, this wasn’t her first rodeo—or snowstorm, and she’d been played in this game before.

As she contemplated an appropriate comeback, a loud splash came from the corner. Valerie jumped up, grabbed her belly, and panted. “My water just broke!”

Chris dropped the stack of dirty dishes in his arms. They clattered to the floor. Jaycee rushed to Valerie’s side. She surveyed the pool of liquid on the floor and moved Valerie to a nearby chair. She’d delivered plenty of babies in her tenure as a nurse, most as a volunteer on the local rescue squad. Most in less ideal circumstances than she had right now. But, deliveries entailed risks, and when things went bad, they went really bad, and she had serious doubts about either Chris or Diana being up to being a lot of help.

Jaycee pasted the reassuring nurse expression on her face and smiled at Valerie. She didn’t need to know any of the thousand things running through her mind. “It’s okay. First baby, we have plenty of time.”

She wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Chris muttered, “Holy shit,” behind her.

Jaycee gave Chris a pointed stare over her shoulder, then placed her hands on Valerie’s abdomen. The top of her uterus firmed. “That’s a contraction. We’re going to time them, okay, Valerie?” She gave the expectant mom a reassuring nod.

Valerie’s face paled. “That’s a contraction? Oh, crap!”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Her voice came out as a near sob. “I’ve been having them all day.” Valerie reached out and clutched Jaycee’s hand, and if the strength of her grip was any sign of her fear level, she was terrified. “I didn’t know. I thought they’d go away if I ignored them long enough.”

Jaycee took a couple of deep breaths before she looked into Valerie’s face. She made her own voice soft and soothing, like you would use to lull a baby to sleep. “Everything’s going to be fine, Valerie. Just breathe. We all just need to breathe.” She stood up and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Chris, come stay with her a moment.”

Chris threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about delivering babies!”

Seriously?
Jaycee yanked him aside. “You have a diploma, right? A license?”

Chris stared at her, terror filling his face. “Yeah, but I skated through OB without doing much. No one wanted a male student nurse.”

Jaycee was fresh out of reassurances where Chris Kadavy was concerned, and she was certain her face read more pissed off mom than supportive nurse. And, she didn’t care. “Time to put your big boy scrub pants on, so I hope you’re a quick study.” She pointed to the puddle on the floor. “Start with cleaning that up, then get the privacy dividers from the therapy room. More blankets, and the emergency kit.””