Love Is a Breeze (5 page)

CHAPTER Five

John awoke to the sound of his cell phone on the night table. He picked it up.
Two o’clock.
He glanced at the caller ID. “Cell phone, IL” it read. His irritation mounting, he punched the answer button.

“Hello.”

“John Sharp?” a male voice asked.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Officer Garcia of the Chicago Police. We found this phone next to a young woman who was injured in an explosion. Your number was the only one in it. She’s unconscious and has no identification. Would you come down here and identify her?”

“Yes, of course. What’s the address?” He scribbled the address on a pad. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

His mind raced while he dressed. What woman did he know that would be in that area at this time of the night? 

When he arrived at the scene thirty minutes later, he was met by complete chaos. Yellow police tape cordoned off a wide area where fire trucks, police cars and ambulances were parked. Flames engulfed a building. Firefighters attempted to control the inferno. He parked his car and got out. He spoke to one police officer who directed him to another officer standing near an ambulance. On the curb lay a body covered with a blanket. His heart jumped to his throat.

“Officer Garcia?” he asked the man in uniform.

“Yes.”

“I’m John Sharp. You need me to identify someone.”  He nodded toward the lifeless body. “That’s not her, is it?”

“No, sir. She’s in the ambulance. They’ll be taking her to the hospital shortly.” The officer jerked his head toward the vehicle behind him.

                                                        * * * *

Brianna opened her eyes slowly to the sound of sirens and shouting. She looked at her surroundings in the dim light. She lay on a narrow cot draped with a white sheet. An ice pack sat on her throbbing head. A plastic bag with a tube leading to a needle in her arm hung overhead. An oxygen mask covered her nose. Something encased her foot and ankle. Outside two men were talking. She saw a fire truck and policemen. The noise was deafening.
What happened?
Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes.

Something gently brushed her arm.

“Miss Ryan,” a deep voice said.

Brianna opened her eyes. Mr. Sharp sat on the bench across from her.
I must be dreaming
. She closed her eyes.

“Brianna, wake up,” the voice said. “The paramedics are taking you to the hospital.”

Brianna opened her eyes and struggled to sit up but a strong hand on her shoulder prevented it and she hadn’t the strength to resist.

“What are you doing here? I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine. Just let me go home.”

“The police called me. Apparently, I’m the only number in your cell phone.”

Brianna groaned; a single tear trickled down her temple into her hair. “It’s new.”

“What were you doing in this neighborhood at this hour?”

“Sleeping,” she stated. “I can’t afford to go to the hospital. Everything I had was in there,” She pointed at the burning building.

“That’s where you rented a room?” He stared at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses.

She closed her eyes and nodded. John shook his head.

“You are going to the hospital. They want to take some x-rays. Insurance will cover most of it. Don’t worry about the rest. Try to relax. I’ll see you there.” He got up, stepped to the ground, exchanged a few words with the paramedic and left.

“‘Try to relax,’ ‘Don’t worry about it,’” she sniffed. “Easy for him to say.”

The medic climbed in, shut the doors and took the seat John had just vacated. He took her blood pressure, listened to her heart, checked the oxygen and IV and squeezed her big toe. When he was satisfied that she was stable he signaled the driver and the vehicle lurched forward. The IV bag swung rhythmically as sirens faded into the background. She closed her eyes again. She opened them when the paramedics set her gurney on the ground and raised it with a jolt.

They wheeled her into the emergency room, transferred her to a bed and left. She wanted to sleep but the bright overhead light made it impossible. She waited and waited for what seemed like hours. She considered leaving but she was barefoot, it was two thirty in the morning and she had nowhere to go. For the first time in her life Brianna was depressed. She was alone, hurt, tired and homeless. With all her money literally gone up in smoke, she was destined to remain that way. And now she would have a hospital bill on top of everything else. She cried giant tears.

She wiped her eyes on a corner of the sheet that covered her and glanced around the stark, green-curtained enclosure for tissues. She finally spotted a box on a stainless steel tray across the room. Desperately needing to blow her nose, she sat up, scooted past the guard rails to the end of the bed and swung her legs over the edge, sliding until her feet touched the cold tile floor. Intense pain shot up her leg when she put her weight on it. The room tilted. She lurched at the tray and it crashed to the floor, taking her with it. Suddenly the tiny cubicle filled with people that seemed to materialize from the curtains. Through an opening she could see a man in a white coat talking with a tall man wearing gray pants and a black polo shirt. 
Mr. Sharp?
Why is he here?

“I need a tissue,” she said.

“We’ll get you one,” said one of the green-clad people as they picked her up, laid her back on the bed and raised the side rails.

“Thank you,” she said as a nurse handed her the tissues. She blew her nose.

Her eyes locked on Mr. Sharp as he conversed with the other man.

“I’m sorry. Unless you are family I can’t give you any information,” the man said to Mr. Sharp.

“He’s my husband.” She looked around. Had those words tumbled from her mouth? Apparently the connection between her brain and tongue had been completely severed but the thought of a familiar face made her feel a little better.

The man and Mr. Sharp simultaneously turned toward her. The doctor raised a skeptical eyebrow while Mr. Sharp just stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Brianna blushed.  They spoke a few more seconds before approaching her.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Holloway,” he said, shining a penlight in her eye. “I was telling your, uh,  husband–”

Brianna flicked an embarrassed glance at her boss. He stood with his arms crossed and a grave look fixed on her.

“–I don’t think it’s anything serious. We’re going to take some x-rays and a CT scan just to make sure. You’re a very lucky young lady.” The doctor patted her shoulder, spoke to John and disappeared through the curtain.

“Lucky? Hmfp,” she grumbled.

“He’s right. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. I saw a couple of people who weren’t so lucky. What in the world possessed you to get a room in that building, in that neighborhood?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go ho… somewhere.” Tears clouded her eyes as she remembered she didn’t have a home to go to.

“You don’t want to talk about it. Well, young lady, you are going to have to talk about it whether you want to or not. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“Stop talking like you’re my father.” She met his eyes. “It’s not–
I’m
not your problem. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, you’re doing a smashing job so far.” A smile twitched the corners of his mouth.

Brianna glared at him and opened her mouth but an orderly stepped into the room to take her to radiology before she could say something she would most likely regret.

                                                             * * * *

Mr. Sharp sat in the cubicle sipping a cup of coffee when she returned.

“Why are you still here? Actually, why were you even here in the first place?”

“The police called me. I told you in the ambulance.”

“You were in the ambulance?”

“You don’t remember?”

Brianna shook her head. “Well, you can go now. I’ll be fine.”

The doctor returned. He shuffled through papers on a chart before looking up.

“Just as I suspected, you have a mild concussion and a badly sprained ankle. We’d like to keep you overnight for observation. I’ll see about getting you a room.”  John left the room with the doctor and returned a few seconds later.

“Where am I?” Brianna asked.

“Mercy Medical,” John answered.

Brianna groaned.

“Don’t they usually take indigents to Cook County? I can’t stay here.”

“Where do you plan to go?”

Brianna looked down at her hands as they twisted the sheet. She had nowhere to go. She looked up at Mr. Sharp.

“I - don’t - know,” she said, tears trickling down her cheeks.

He handed her a tissue, looked at her intently and stroked his chin.

“Since you declared yourself my wife, I guess I should take you home with me.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him.

“You most certainly will not.”

“Unless there is someone else you can call you’re stuck with me. The doctor says you can’t be left alone for 24 hours.”

“I’ll call Carly. She’ll take care of me. Where’s my phone?”

John reached into his pocket, retrieved the phone and handed it to her. She took the phone, looked at it for several seconds, then looked back at Mr. Sharp.

“I can’t remember her number,” Brianna said, tears welling in her eyes again.

She handed the phone back to him as the doctor re-entered the room.

“We have a room all ready for you. Someone will take you up shortly,” he said.

“I’ll not be staying.”

“I’m afraid my wife can be quite stubborn at times,” John said, moving to her side and placing an arm around her shoulders, drawing a mutinous glare from Brianna. He smiled down at her. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll take her home. She’ll rest better there.”

The doctor looked from John to Brianna, then back to John. “Well, okay but I want her to see her doctor on Monday. In the meantime, keep the foot elevated with an ice pack – fifteen minutes every hour or two. And, most importantly, wake her every two hours for the next twenty-four. Make sure she is not disoriented, or nauseated. If she is, bring her back in here immediately. Some short-term memory loss and mood swings are normal.”

“You can count on it, Dr. Holloway,” John said shaking his hand. “And, thank you for everything.”

“I’ll send someone in with a splint and a wheelchair.”

“That’s not necessary,” Brianna said.

“Hospital policy.” Turning to John, he said, “Bring your car up to the entrance, she’ll be right out.”

“I’m not your wife,” Brianna stated when the doctor left.

“Hey, you said it, not me,” he laughed.

“The words just sort of fell out,” she sighed. “I don’t know why you bothered. I’m just another employee and a rather bothersome one at that.”

He smiled. “Everyone needs a helping hand occasionally.”

“Yeah, the ‘luck of the Irish’ seems to have abandoned me.”

“So it seems.” He smiled, brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and added, “But I won’t.”

A young male nurse came in with a wheelchair, a pair of crutches and a splint. John left to get the car. The nurse placed the canvas and plastic contraption around her foot and leg fastening it with Velcro straps.

“Ready to go?” He asked, helping her off the gurney and into the chair. Brianna blinked back more tears and nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Mr. Sharp and the nurse helped her into his silver Mercedes. The crutches were stowed in the backseat. She leaned her head on the soft, gray leather headrest and closed her eyes.

                                                             * * * *

Brianna woke with a start when a hand touched her shoulder. She rolled onto her back, blinked and squinted in the dimly lit room until she focused on a tall figure standing beside the bed. She sat up with a groan, slowly piecing together the jumbled events of the past night.

“How are you feeling?” She recognized the deep voice of her boss.
He’s everywhere.

“Much better than I smell, I’m sure.” She wrinkled her nose at the lingering, acrid odor of smoke surrounding her. The slight smile he gave her caused her heart to summersault.
Damn! He’s going to give me a heart attack if he keeps doing that.
She gulped. Even a half-smile brought a twinkle to his eyes.

“Seriously, Miss Ryan, does your head ache? Are you nauseated?”

“No, I’m actually kind of hungry.”

“That’s a good sign.” He smiled again, turned and left the room leaving the door slightly ajar.

Brianna surveyed her surroundings. Soft, gray walls, silver plush carpet she longed to sink her toes into, a wall of muted multi-colored silk drapes that matched the duvet on the queen-sized bed. The wall opposite the bed had two doors, one of which she hoped was a desperately needed bathroom. She debated for three seconds whether to attempt the trip on her own or call for help. Her pride chose the former.