The Lonely Hearts Club (15 page)

“Probably. But I’ve had enough softball for tonight.”

In the distance, sirens sounded and rapidly became louder.

Candace reached down and squeezed Parker’s hand, surprised when Parker gripped it and didn’t let go. “Our ride’s here.”

“Good. I’m not…feeling so great.”

“Uh-oh,” Reilly said, instantly sliding a hand behind Parker’s neck. “Candace, hold her head steady, would you?”

Without a word, Candace shifted around and gently put both hands on either side of Parker’s head. Reilly rolled Parker slightly to her side just as she vomited.

“Oh, poor baby,” Candace murmured, glancing anxiously at Reilly. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah,” Reilly said, taking a bandanna someone held down to her and wiping Parker’s face with one hand while continuing to support her neck with the other. “Let’s roll her back. Slowly. Good. It’s probably just a reflex from the bang to her head. But she definitely needs a CAT scan now.”

“Will you come with us?” Candace asked, suddenly frightened. She knew what emergency rooms could be like for someone who didn’t have an edge in the system. And more than that, Reilly made her feel safe. “I know you don’t…”

Reilly met Candace’s eyes, and then beyond her, saw Liz and Bren among the onlookers. Liz watched Candace with a worried expression. Reilly liked Parker, and she heard Candace’s concern, and she knew Liz would be upset for her friend. The decision wasn’t even a decision. “Sure.”

“Medics. Coming through,” a man shouted, and the crowd parted. A burly guy in his early twenties with a military haircut and a sunburn knelt down. “What do we have here?”

“I’m Dr. Danvers, ortho,” Reilly said. “She’s a twenty-something female with blunt trauma to the right orbit from a line drive. No documented loss of consciousness and she’s been alert and oriented since I got here about three minutes after impact. Right pupil is impossible to examine due to swelling, but the left is round and reactive. She just vomited. Her airway is fine.”

As Reilly talked, the medic wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Parker’s left upper arm. A second EMT, who had arrived pushing a portable stretcher, inserted an intravenous line into Parker’s right hand. Candace stayed where she was, stroking Parker’s forehead.

From just behind her, Liz said, “How is she?”

“Reilly says she’s okay, but she needs to go to the hospital. I want to go too.”

“I’ll drive you,” Liz said instantly.

“What’s your catchment area?” Reilly asked the medic.

“West Philly.”

“Can you take her to University Hospital?”

“Sure can.”

“Okay, thanks,” Reilly said as the two men log rolled Parker onto the backboard. “I’ll drive over there. Would you tell them in admitting I’m on my way. It’s Danvers.”

“You got it.” The big guy scanned the fields and the clusters of women. “Who’s winning?”

“We were,” Parker muttered.

The EMT laughed. “There’s always next week.”

Reilly turned to Candace. “I can call you later, if you want. There’s no reason for you to hang around the ER for hours.”

“That’s okay,” Candace said. “I just need to tell your third baseman to hold a certain thought until the next game.”

“Sure thing,” Reilly said. “Although stay clear of the catcher. That’s her girlfriend.”

Candace raised an eyebrow.

Bren took Candace’s arm. “Let’s go before you start a riot.”

Liz turned to Reilly as Bren led Candace away. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Reilly said. “I’m going to grab my gear. Maybe you can collect Parker’s. Someone will know what’s hers. Then I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“Okay.”

Reilly hesitated a second, then ran off. Liz went in search of Parker’s gear, feeling as if fate kept dealing her the Joker and laughing.

Reilly pulled back the curtain on the exam cubicle and nodded to the heavy-set redhead who leaned over Parker, carefully palpating her face. Parker reclined on the partially elevated stretcher, the right side of her face even more swollen than it had been an hour before. However, her left eye was open, and she seemed alert and fairly comfortable.

“Hi, Parker,” Reilly said. “Doing okay?”

“Not bad.”

“Tom,” Reilly said to the plastic and reconstructive surgeon, “what are you doing here on a Sunday night?”

“I happened to be in the OR for an emergency trach when the consult came in.” He shone a penlight into Parker’s left eye, then carefully pried open her right eyelid and examined her right eye. “You got a case?”

“No. Parker’s a friend of mine. I was there right after she got hit,” Reilly informed him. “She wasn’t as badly swollen then, and I didn’t feel anything suspicious. Of course, I’m used to dealing with bigger bones.”

Tom straightened and addressed Parker. “Everything feels good, but we’ll need a CT scan to look at the floor of the orbit. Sometimes when the eye socket sustains blunt trauma, the increased pressure fractures the small bones underneath the eye.”

“And then what happens?” Parker said.

“It depends on how badly they’re displaced, if at all. Most of the time, we don’t need to do anything.”

“And if they are displaced?”

“Then we’ll need to operate.” He tapped her arm. “Let’s wait and see what the films show first. There’s no point talking about what we might need to do until we have some more facts. I’ll check back with you after I review them.”

“Okay.” Parker shifted her gaze to Reilly as the surgeon left. “Did, uh, the others come over?”

“Candace, Liz, Bren, and a couple of your teammates are in the waiting room.”

“You should tell them I’m okay and to take off.”

“I’ll give them the message,” Reilly said, “but I don’t think any of them are going anywhere. It might be a little while before you go down for the scan. I’ll see if I can hurry that up.”

“Thanks. Thanks for everything.”

“I ought to be able to bring someone back here to keep you company while you wait, too. Any requests?”

Parker’s grin was obvious, even though only the left side of her mouth lifted. “Only one?”

“The ER people like to keep the noise level down.”

“Candace.”

“Good choice,” Reilly replied dryly.

“Crazy, probably.”

Reilly clasped her forearm briefly. “I’ll get her.”

*

“You know you don’t have to stay,” Parker murmured.

“You look like hell,” Candace said, leaning over the side rail and squeezing Parker’s hand. “Does it hurt much?”

“I’ve got a mother of a headache.”

“How’s your stomach?”

“Starving.”

“Back to normal then.” Candace patted Parker’s midsection casually, and when the muscles beneath the thin cotton hospital gown tensed beneath her fingers, she pulled her hand back sharply. That brief touch telegraphed an image of the way Parker’s stomach went rigid just before she orgasmed, and the memory brought a wave of heat surging through her. Even Liz, who had been Candace’s first, hadn’t aroused her so thoroughly so quickly. Danger signals flared so brightly that she wanted to walk—no, she wanted to run—from the room.

“What’s the matter?” Parker asked.

“Nothing,” Candace said brightly.

“You just got really pale.” Parker reached through the stainless steel bars and caught Candace’s hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“You’re the one who looks like a train wreck.”

“Did you have dinner?”

“What I need is one of those beers,” Candace said. Actually, she needed more than that. What she needed was a couple of martinis and another woman to take the edge off the intensity of her memories. Another body to replace the feel of Parker’s hands, Parker’s mouth, Parker’s soft moans.

“Want Mandy’s number?” Parker teased. “She’s got the cooler.”

“Pleeease.” Candace rolled her eyes. “Blond airheads are not my type, even if she does have a great ass.”

“I didn’t notice that.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll just bet.”

“No, seriously,” Parker said with a hint of her devil-may-care spirit surfacing, “I’m just partial to blondes.”

Candace leaned closer again. “I may be blond, but that’s the only similarity.”

“No question. Your ass is much better than Mandy’s.”

Candace threaded her fingers through Parker’s, not even realizing she’d done it until the heat of Parker’s palm seared her skin. The feel of Parker’s fingers slipping between hers made her tremble inside in a way that was more than lust. The excitement was exhilarating, and terrifying.

“Well at least we know you don’t have a concussion,” Candace said, “since your brain is still functioning.”

“Everything else is functioning too,” Parker whispered.

Candace saw no point in pretending she didn’t hear the invitation. Parker was too sharp for that, and despite her free and easy lifestyle, Candace didn’t play games.

“I don’t do repeats.”

“Neither do I,” Parker said.

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

“Perfectly.”

For just a second, Candace felt disappointed. Then, with the next breath, relief took its place and she smiled, happy to be on comfortable ground again.

“Friends then,” Candace said lightly. “Nice and simple.”

“Absolutely.” Carefully, Parker released her hold on Candace’s hand and drew hers back through the bars, letting it fall onto the bed. “Nice and simple.”

*

“Want something from the vending room?” Bren asked Liz. “It’s after nine. You should eat something.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Liz said. The waiting room had emptied out over the last hour, and only one old man half-asleep in the corner and two teenaged girls, drinking soda and laughing along with a sitcom on the overhead television, remained. The stark white walls, eye-watering fluorescent lighting, and dingy gray tile-floor gave the place a bleak institutional feel, and Liz couldn’t help comparing it to the carpeted floors, fabric chairs and soothing color schemes of the OB offices in the private clinic area of the hospital. That train of thought reminded her that if she didn’t eat, she’d wake up in the middle of the night with heartburn. Another new development. “I guess I should have something. I just can’t face the thought of microwaved machine food.”

“You don’t have to risk that,” Reilly said, walking up to them. “I offered pizza, remember?”

“How is she,” Liz said, standing. Bren and Parker’s teammates joined them.

“The CT scan looks good. The surgeon’s with her now. He saw some swelling behind the globe—the eyeball—and he might want her to stay overnight for observation.”

“But no surgery?” Bren asked.

“Not likely. Not unless some problem develops with the pressure in her eye.”

“That’s great,” Liz said.

“Excellent,” one of Parker’s teammates said. “We’re going to make some calls and let everyone know she’s okay. Thanks!”

“No problem,” Reilly called as the women hurried off. Then, taking in both Bren and Liz, she asked, “So, how about it? Pizza?”

Bren hesitated, clearly waiting for Liz to make the decision.

“Yes,” Liz replied. They all needed to eat, and after the hours of waiting and worrying, she had a feeling none of them really wanted to be alone. She knew she didn’t. She wanted to be with her friends. And…she wanted to be with Reilly.

Reilly grinned. “Okay, why don’t we—”

“Oh good, you’re still here,” Candace said, rushing in from the corridor. “The surgeon said Parker can go home if someone stays with her tonight. I volunteered us.”

“Us?” Liz and Bren said simultaneously.

Reilly raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Candace said, cocking a hip and shrugging, “I don’t know anything about edema and increased intra-ocular pressure and all those other things on the list.”

“And we do?” Liz and Bren exclaimed.

“One of us does,” Candace remarked, sliding a look in Reilly’s direction.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Liz said. “It’s one thing to volunteer us, but Reilly’s been here all night, and—”

“I don’t mind,” Reilly said. “We’ll order some pizzas and I’ll keep an eye on Parker for an hour or two.”

Liz turned her back on her friends and lowered her voice. “Reilly, are you sure? Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“I have office hours all day tomorrow. No surgery. Besides, I’m used to getting by on just a few hours’ sleep.”

“You’ve already done more than your share.”

“I like Parker.” Reilly smiled. “And remember, I promised you pizza.”

Liz hesitated, but it was hard to look into Reilly’s eyes and argue. It was also hard to deny that she didn’t want to say good night to her. She turned to Candace.

“Where are we taking her? Her place or yours?”

Candace smiled sweetly. “Well, Parker lives on the Main Line and we really don’t want to spend all that time in the car. My place isn’t all that big, but the sofa in Bren’s office is
so
comfy…”