The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (38 page)

“Ahh, yes, Miss Schmidt. Dr. Morris told me you would be turning in the assignment, and then leaving. I’m sorry to hear about your dad. I hope all goes well today.”

“Me, too.” Aimee managed a smile before continuing, “Do we have any homework or other assignments I need to be aware of?”

“No, ma’am. Turning in the project was the big thing. You’re only going to miss a video Dr. Morris asked me to show today. So no homework tonight, and nothing coming up that she mentioned. She said she would be back tomorrow, unless your dad needed her.”

“Okay, well then, can I get a pass to go to the office and check out?”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Porter answered while she pulled out the desk drawer and reached in for a pad of hall passes. With yellow, chalk-coated fingers, she quickly wrote out an excuse and handed it to Aimee. “Here you go. I hope all goes well this morning.” She smiled warmly and placed Aimee's project folder into the basket on the corner of the desk. Aimee turned and spotted Chelsea, who smiled and waved. Dylan was watching her, too. He nodded at Aimee and signed “I love you.” Aimee smiled, returned the sign, and then walked out just as the final bell buzzed shrilly.

Her ride over to the hospital was almost as consumed with disruptive thoughts as the trip earlier from her house to school. This time Aimee had only her dad on her mind. It was eight thirty-eight, and he was supposed to go in for his procedure at nine. She stepped on the accelerator and zipped the little truck down the street faster than the speed limit afraid she might miss seeing him before he went under. A cop passed her going the opposite direction and her foot instantly hit the brake to slow down. She jerked her eyes from the road to the rearview mirror.

“Thank God,” Aimee muttered through clenched teeth. The cop didn’t seem interested enough to do a U-turn and chase her down for a ticket.

After a couple deep gulps of air, her heart started beating again. Unfortunately the little scare exacerbated the throbbing in her head, which now was a constant reminder of her impending journey. No point in taking medicine to chase the pain away. This wasn’t any ordinary headache.

The truck’s clock read eight forty-seven when she lurched into an empty visitor’s space. After the engine sputtered to a dead silence, Aimee yanked the keys out and flew into the hospital determined to see Dad before they took him for his procedure. The nurse was coming down the hall to get Dad and she sailed past her and bolted into the CCU breathless. Dr. Morris sat by his bed, her fingers locked into his. Dad’s eyes were closed while he waited, but they both whipped their eyes towards Aimee when she made her grand entrance. A smile slowly lit up Dad’s face, and he patted the bed a couple times for Aimee to come sit.

“Hey there, my favorite daughter...,” he said slowly, “…come give your old man a hug before they take me.”

Aimee took her dad’s hand, forged her brows together and peered over at Dr. Morris, who continued to hold his other hand.
“Dad, I’m your
only
daughter,” Aimee replied.

His voice slurred a bit when he answered, “Doesn’t matter. You’re still my little girl.”

Aimee chuckled. “Dad, what did they give you? You sound like you’ve had a few too many to drink.”

Dr. Morris answered, “They gave Mike a sedative to calm his nerves.” He definitely was feeling no pain.

“It certainly gives you a good buzz.” He laughed lightly as both Dr. Morris and Aimee snickered. Aimee rested her dad’s hand on her lap and sat down on the edge of the bed. The nurse finished getting Dad’s chart from the nurses’ station and started making her way over towards them.

“Well, Mr. Schmidt, are you ready for your cath? Dr. Taylor is just about ready to get started.”

He grinned and winked at Aimee, then answered, “Hell, I’m feeling so good, I don’t think I need one.”

“Well, this will make you feel even better once they finish with you.” The nurse plopped his chart on the end of the bed and started releasing the brakes.

“Dad, I’ll be in the waiting room. You behave now.” Aimee leaned over and hugged him. Before the nurse released the last brake Aimee whispered into his ear, “I love you, Dad,” then she kissed his cheek.

Dad looked into Aimee's eyes. His teasing mood dissipated. “Sweetheart, I love you, too.” His eyes suddenly looked wet. Dr. Morris stood up, leaned over and gave Dad a quick peck on his lips.

“See you in a bit, Mike. I love you.”

“Love ya, too, Hannah,” Dad mumbled.

Aimee smiled at her dad and let his hand drop as the nurse started pushing his bed away. Dr. Morris and Aimee stared at each other with worry written all over their faces. Finally, Dr. Morris reached over, wrapped her arm around Aimee's shoulders, and gently squeezed. Aimee managed a smile and sighed. Dr. Morris broke the silence. “Come on, let’s find the cafeteria. I’ll buy us a cup of coffee.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Taylor, still in scrubs, rushed into the waiting room. His urgency frightened them. He stopped just long enough to give them the good news they anxiously hoped for. He put in a stent, but her dad was otherwise in pretty good shape. Of course, after he left the hospital he needed to tote the line with his diet, lose a few pounds, exercise, and follow the doctor’s orders.

Yeah, right
, she thought while Dr. Taylor discussed Dad’s wayward ways that were
about to change. But Aimee nodded in affirmation while she listened. Aimee had lectured him a thousand times before. Maybe this was a wakeup call and he would behave from now on. Now that he had Dr. Morris in his life to fret over him, Aimee could relax a bit and quit griping so much. Dr. Morris could take up the slack. Maybe he would listen to her better than he had with Aimee. At least he would have someone to watch over him when Aimee moved off to Eugene this summer.

Dr. Taylor raced through his update, answered questions, and then flew off to the next patient. Both of them sighed greatly together. Dr. Morris touched Aimee's shoulder, and with steadfast conviction in her voice, she tried to reassure Aimee. “I promise you I’ll take good care of Mike after you leave for school this summer. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Okay?”

Aimee's voice was mixed with gravel when she tried to answer. All she could get out was a rocky squeak. “Okay…thank you, Dr. Morris.” Dr. Morris's smile was genuine. Suddenly Dr. Morris dropped her hand when she spotted Aimee's father being wheeled down the hall towards them on his way to his new room on the floor. He grinned broadly when he saw his two women waiting.

He sleepily greeted, “Hey, sweethearts.”

“Hi,” they both answered, looked at each other, and chuckled. Aimee guessed she was getting used to the fact she was no longer Dad’s only girl in his life.

All day Dr. Morris and Aimee took turns vigilantly watching over Dad while he slept and woke and slept and woke. Finally around four in the afternoon, he opened his eyes and stayed awake, the wacky medicine finally drained completely from his body. He was in an exceptionally chipper mood, back to his normal, obnoxious self, giving the nurses grief and making wisecracks with anyone who would listen.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait a few more years before you can cash in on my big life insurance policy,” he kidded while Aimee helped him get out of bed to go to the restroom.

“Geez, Dad, and I had a new Mercedes all picked out and ready to order. Seriously, you have to start taking care of yourself. I really do want you around to walk me down the aisle, and give my kids horsey rides on your knee like you did when I was little.”

Dad looked at Aimee seriously and changed his usual sarcastic tone. “I promise, Aimee, I’ll change. You won’t have to worry about me. I’m going to be so damn healthy you’ll wish I would cheat once in a while. No more pizza…no more ice cream…no more chicken fried steak…”

Aimee interrupted, “And no more beer, right?”

Dad smiled sheepishly. “Well, maybe a glass of red wine once in a while, okay? Doc says it’s all right.”

“I guess.
One
glass once in a while won’t hurt,” Aimee replied, crossing her arms and forging
her eyebrows. Dad grinned, then kissed her cheek and shuffled into the restroom. She turned around and shrugged her shoulders at Dr. Morris. “Maybe he’ll mind this time.”

After Dad got back into bed, Aimee decided she better get home. Zonker would need to go out, and Aimee was feeling the effects of a very long, stressful day. Actually, the past few days had completely wiped her out. She kissed Dad, hugged Dr. Morris, and grabbed her backpack and the new magazine she had bought in the gift shop.

Dad was busy scarfing down his dinner, pretending the tasteless, skinned chicken breast with marinara sauce and whole wheat spaghetti was as yummy as his favorite dish; spicy fried chicken with cream gravy and mash potatoes. He hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. In between ravenous bites, he stopped long enough to bid Aimee good-bye.

“Tell Dylan hello. And remind him that he promised me to watch out for you.”

“Okay, Dad. Will do. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love ya.”

“Love you, too, Amos.”

On her way out the door, the phone rang. Dr. Morris answered it and Aimee heard her greet James. She grimaced. She hadn’t talked to James since their little squabble the day before. Aimee supposed she would have to give in first, as usual, and jotted down a mental note to call him later to repair whatever damage remained.

Dylan was already waiting in the driveway when she eased her dad’s pickup behind his FJ. He was kicked back in his seat, his earbuds stuffed in. Aimee crept up along the side of his door, reached in and placed her hand on his shoulder. He jumped, instantly yanking out the earbuds.

“Hey,” he shouted, “you scared the
hell
out of me!”

Aimee giggled. “Sorry. I thought you saw me pull up. What’s going on?”

“Not much. Just chillin’ while I waited for you. I couldn’t wait until later to come over.” His lips turned into a grin as he grabbed his keys from the dash. Within a second he was out of his SUV, then quickly slid Aimee's backpack from her shoulder to his, and had her hand while they cruised up the sidewalk. “You look tired.”

Aimee nodded.

“So, how’s your dad?”

“Good. No great, actually. Only one stent needed. Dr. Taylor said his prognosis is good if he quits self-destructing.”

“That’s cool. I know you'll feel better when he gets out of there. It’s been pretty rough the past couple of days, huh?” He tenderly raked a strand of hair out of Aimee's eyes, then took her keys and unlocked the front door. Always the gentleman.

She gave a tiny smile, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, but it’ll get better soon, I hope.”

Dylan opened the door and Zonker eagerly jumped up on Aimee's leg, his little stump wagging furiously. “Hey there, Z Boy,” Aimee greeted half-heartedly. Zonker turned and darted for the backdoor. Dylan dropped the backpack onto the recliner and continued towards the utility room to let him out. Aimee dropped down heavily onto the couch, kicked off her flip flops, and propped her feet up on the coffee table. The pain in her brain was becoming brutal, but she needed to keep up the act. Within a minute Dylan and Zonker were back. Zonker leaped up on the couch and plopped down next to her legs. Dylan was right behind toting a couple glasses of water and two glossy red apples.

“Here,” he said setting their treats on the coffee table, “maybe this will help perk you up.” Like Zonker, he plopped down on the couch on the other side of Aimee. He slid his arm over her shoulders, and his touch caused a current to surge through her. Her mind was no longer on Dad or the awful pounding in her head. Aimee whipped around and crawled over his lap, clenched two fists full of his shirt into her hands, and then molded into him. Her lips paused about an inch from his lips. Zonker studied them for a second and quickly disappeared into Aimee's bedroom.

“Thanks, but this is what I
reeeally
need to make me feel better. Dad wanted me to remind you
that you promised to take care of me.”

“I don't think this is what he meant, Aimee.”

Aimee smirked, then eased her lips into his without a protest. He hesitated only a second before his hands located her hips and continued up her back under her shirt. After a very steamy kiss, he reluctantly ripped his lips away and stared intently into Aimee's eyes. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and yanked it up and over her head, exposing her pale tummy and white lacy bra. Her breaths were now in sync with the throbbing in her head, but she didn’t stop. Aimee locked her lips back to his, and immediately their tongues played together.

Aimee snatched his shirt and slid it over his head and took in the beauty. His body was rippled, yet soft to touch. Their bodies fused instantly. Without warning, he lifted Aimee up off the couch like she was a doll. She twisted her legs around his waist, tethered her arms around his neck, and laughed.

“Dylan, don’t drop me! Where are we going?”

“Somewhere more comfortable.” In a flash they were in her bedroom, and their bodies falling together onto the bed. Aimee landed first, and Dylan landed next to her. They giggled while they scooted together to get completely on the bed. Zonker leaped down and stormed out disgusted by their intrusion.

“You pissed off my dog,” Aimee teased in between kisses.

“Sorry, he’ll get over it.” Dylan's eyes seared into hers. He reached up and rubbed his thumb tenderly across her cheek, and then grazed his hand down her shoulder to her arm and stopped. She felt a warm tingle from her head down to her toes. Nothing was going to stop them this time!

But Zonker started barking at the front window, and they broke their embrace and looked at each other with disbelief.

“What
now
?!” Aimee hissed while she popped up off the bed and flew to the bedroom window.
She barely eased up one slat of the blinds and peeked out.

Dylan impatiently asked, “Who is it?”

“Not sure. Can’t really see the driver, but it looks like a man with black hair in a gray sedan.” Aimee dropped the blind, frowned at Dylan, then headed for the den to get her shirt. Dylan followed right behind. She slid her shirt back on, tossed Dylan his shirt, peeked into the hall mirror, combed her fingers quickly through her hair, peered through the small stain glass window on the door, then tugged open the front door right before the visitor rang the bell.