“What's wrong with the kid? The kid?! She's your daughter, Susan; your daughter, damn it! You could at least say her name.”
She rolled her eyes melodramatically.
“Fine. How's Jane?”
“Not good, not good at all. She's running a fever of 105 degrees.”
“Yeah, that's not good.”
At that moment, a doctor came out to speak to us.
“Are you the parents of Jane?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I'm her father, and this is her mother.”
“Alright. Well, I have some bad news. Jane seems to have picked up a very serious stomach infection. We've given her a strong dose of antibiotics, but this infection is really giving her immune system a rough time. I would recommend that you stay here tonight. We're moving her into a room. There’s a recliner and a bench in there, they're not the most comfortable things to sleep on, unfortunately, but it can be done.”
“Oh man,” whined Susan. “I don't want to sleep on a hospital bench.”
“Are you... are you intoxicated, miss?” asked the doctor.
“We've, uh, we've had a few drinks tonight,” replied Ricky.
“You know what,” I said. “You two just go home and sleep it off. I'll stay here with Jane tonight. Go, just go. I'll call you in the morning.”
“Oh uh, alright, but call me,” mumbled Susan. “Come on, Ricky, let's go.”
“Uh, bye, Everett,” mumbled Ricky as he and Susan stumbled out.
I stared at them in angry silence as they left, and shook my head. Still, I managed to stay relatively calm.
“The child's mother is not particularly responsible, is she?” muttered the doctor.
“No, she's not. But anyway, doc, please take me to Jane. I'd like to be with my daughter now.”
“This way, Mr. James, this way...”
Chapter Eleven
Vivienne
“So what are your names?” I asked the guys as we stood up to follow them to the dance floor. “I'm Vivienne, and this is my friend Angie.”
“I'm Nick,” said one. He had broad shoulders, a strong jaw, deep-set brown eyes and short dark hair that was stylishly cut.
“And I'm Paul,” said the other. He was powerfully-built, with muscles bulging through his dress shirt. He was darkly tanned, and this made his bright blue eyes stand out even more. His blond hair was also fashionably cut and styled.
“And uh, how old are you guys, if you don't mind us asking?” asked Angie, smiling flirtatiously.
“I'm 22,” Nick said.
“And I'm 23,” Paul replied.
I couldn't help but chuckle; these were some young guys.
“So are you guys out cougar hunting or what?” asked Angie with a wink and a smile.
“Cougars?” Nick laughed. “You girls are our age. Don't be ridiculous.”