Stella, Get Your Man. Nancy Bartholomew
other.”
The guard gave her a patronizing smile. “Well, then,” he said, “if he ain’t family, he ain’t coming in anyway, so he can park his canine butt in the lot like all the other dogs!”
That’s when Spike took over dragging the two women inside while I took a detour back into Jake’s examining room. I was family on account of I’d told the admitting clerk that I was Jake’s wife. I figured they might get sticky on the policies and procedures, so I took care of the red tape early on.
After all, Jake had been unconscious. It was up to me to ensure his safety and overall well-being. We were partners now and even if I had mixed feelings about the guy in real life, it wouldn’t do to act that way when the chips were down. It just wouldn’t be professional. Actually, I was about to lose my mind worrying about him. I was having a great deal of trouble stuffing my feelings back into a neat little box. I couldn’t stand thinking he might be critically wounded.
“Relax,” the resident told me. “It’s just a flesh wound with a lot of blood loss. The bullet went clean through his side. Other than a couple of little scars, he should be fine. Just give him a few days’ rest and go easy on the, um, physical activities.”
It must’ve been the late hour. I stared at the doctor, not comprehending what he was trying to tell me.
“He means no sex for a couple of days, honey,” Jake said, leering at me from the exam table. “He doesn’t want you wearing your old husband out and possibly busting something open.” Jake chuckled. “Like I told you, Doc, she’s a feisty one, that wife of mine!”
The young doctor had the decency to blush, but Jake merely looked pleased with himself.
“I was only looking out for your best interests, Jake!”
“Don’t worry, baby,” Jake said. “I won’t let you get too frustrated.”
I crossed the room to the stretcher, bent down close to Jake’s ear and whispered. “You just wait until I get you out of here, then we’ll see who gets frustrated. You’re lucky I don’t rip those stitches out here and now, sport.”
Jake moaned and the doctor worked to conceal a smirk. I turned around just as he reached to hand me Jake’s discharge instructions.
“It’s really not at all like it seems,” I said. “He’s been like this since high school. See, I turned him down and he just hasn’t gotten over the shock. And by the way, we’re not really married. I just said that so the guard dogs out there would let me in. We work together.”
The doctor smirked harder. “Sure,” he said. “Happens all the time.” He stepped closer and peered into my eyes. “Were you injured at all? I mean, like a blow on the head maybe?”
I spun around just in time to see Jake behind me, making circular motions around his ear and then motioning to me, trying to indicate that I was the crazy one and the doc should humor me.
“Listen here, you,” I told Jake. “Don’t try me, buddy. It’s never too late to be seriously wounded.”
Jake laughed.
The doctor turned back to me. “I want you to close your eyes, then stand on one foot and touch your nose with the tip of your left index finger.”
“Oh, bite me!” I said. “Are you coming, Jake?”
“Not yet,” he said, grinning. “I’m running a little slow. Maybe if you talk dirty…”
“It’s probably the pain-medication talking,” the doctor said, still peering intently into my eyes. “Now, I really would like to check you out.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” Jake leered.
The doctor handed me a bottle of pills. “Give these to him every four hours, as needed.”
I gripped the bottle and looked back at my new victim. “Hear that, big boy? I’m to give these to you for pain, so I’d suggest you behave.”
I turned and glowered at the doctor who was approaching me with a blood-pressure cuff. “Back off, Shorty. I told you, I’m fine!”
The doctor blanched and practically ran from the room. I watched the door swing shut behind him and turned my attention back to Jake Carpenter. I was about to take him to task for everything, from leaving me at the altar my senior year of high school to making my life a living hell, but we were interrupted before I could launch my lecture.
“How you talk, Stella! I could hear every word you said to that nice doctor. What a disgrace. And then, to turn on this one when he is wounded and half out of his mind with the pain.”
Aunt Lucy stood in the doorway, glaring at me then smiling at Jake.
“He’s hurt! This is how you treat someone who saves you from God knows what kind of madman? I thought you said it was just going to be a routine side job?”
Aunt Lucy was taking no prisoners, but she had the facts all wrong.
“First off, he didn’t save me. I saved him! Secondly, it was supposed to be routine, but repos can go down easy or they can turn into your worst nightmare. This was just one of those times.”
Aunt Lucy ignored me, walking instead to the gurney where Jake sat, attempting to put on his shirt.
“Don’t move!” she groused. “Here.” With a deft hand, Aunt Lucy began buttoning Jake’s work shirt, all the while issuing orders. “You need rest and someone to look after you.” She shot a menacing look in my direction. “You are coming home with us.”
“Oh, Mrs. Valocchi, you don’t need to do that,” Jake protested.
It was as obvious he didn’t mean a bit of what he was saying. He let the words slip out slowly, as if he was feeling uncertain and weak. When Aunt Lucy patted his arm, Jake, man of stone, actually faked a wince. I could’ve thrown up. What a con!
“Yeah, Aunt Lucy,” I said. “Jake’s gonna be fine. Besides, where would you put him anyhow? All the bedrooms are taken with me and Nina and Spike there. I’ll look in on him at his apartment. It’s just a flesh wound. He’ll be fine.”
Wrong. I would’ve been better off taking a two-by-four and hitting myself in the head. Now I had incurred the wrath of Aunt Lucy.
“Stella Luna Valocchi!” she cried. Then she lapsed into Italian, which was unusual considering she was born and raised in the United States and learned Italian in college while also completing her Ph.D. in chemistry. But whatever the source of her rich vocabulary of Italian curses, the results were going to be the same. Jake was coming home with us, whether Jake liked it or not.
To add insult to further injury, the police, in the form of one very pissed-off and familiar female detective, materialized just as Aunt Lucy had Jake leaning on her arm and hobbling toward the exit.
Detective Poltrone, a bleached blonde with a brain deficiency, stood blocking our exit, notepad in hand and smug satisfaction written all over her face.
“Not so fast, kids,” she said. “I’ve got a report of a gunshot wound here and I’m thinking that somehow it has something to do with a burned-out sedan smoldering out off Route 322. How’s about we talk awhile?”
Aunt Lucy was incensed. “Can’t you see this man’s in pain?” she sputtered. “He can’t talk to you now. They gave him medicine. He won’t know what he’s saying!”
Jake’s eyes were a bit glassy, I thought, looking at him, and he had a goofy smirk on his face. Was it the pain medicine, or was he just enjoying himself too much?
Aunt Lucy didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she offered me up like a sacrificial lamb.
“Stella was there. She’ll be glad to answer all your questions, won’t you?” Before I could open my mouth, Aunt Lucy went on. “I’m taking Mr. Carpenter home to my house. You can call tomorrow and I’ll let you