“I don’t have the information memorized. The card is in my billfold.” I reached for a purse that was not hanging off my shoulder because it was sitting in a booth at Johnny Red’s. “Um… I’m afraid in all the chaos of my grandmother’s collapse… I don’t have my purse.”
“I can wait while you run and get it,” she said primly.
A hospital was a true godsend when one feared a loved one was about to die. Everyone was professional and working their asses off, their only concern being to save a life. But, behind the scenes, a different world existed. One of calculators and columns on spreadsheets. One that didn’t see the people within its walls as patients, but as dollar signs. So much for Dr. Harper’s you’re free to go.
Sighing, I shook my head. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t this woman’s fault I’d run out without grabbing my purse. “Ms. Wilkenson, I’m afraid that’s impossible. In all the chaos of my grandmother’s episode, I totally forgot about my purse. I left it at the restaurant.”
“Of course you did,” she said, clearly not believing me.
Gritting my teeth, I reminded myself it really didn’t matter what she believed. “I assure you I’m not attempting to skip out on the bill—”
“I never said you were, but the very fact that you mentioned it has me wondering, Ms. Simian—”
“It’s Simyoneva,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’ll get the card as soon as the restaurant opens and finish filling in your form.” Reaching for the clipboard, I lifted the little silver bar holding the pages in place only to have the clipboard snatched away.
“Those forms are confidential,” she said sharply, detaching a few of the papers after making a final mark on the top sheet before holding them out.
I took them, about to apologize for losing my temper when I saw she’d circled a number at the bottom of the page. No way that amount could be correct. Right? Looking up, I saw she was already walking down the hall, no doubt seeking out her next victim to sink her blood-sucking fangs into.
I folded the papers in half. I’d just paid off one card… I should have known that little victory would be snatched from me as fast as she’d ripped the clipboard out of my hands.
Remembering the reason for my being here, I mentally shook myself. I didn’t care if I were in debt up to my eyeballs. I’d do whatever it took to make sure my babushka had the best care available.
Pasting a smile on my face, I returned to my grandmother’s room.
Both occupants were sleeping. My babushka in the bed, Alek in the chair beside her, his head thrown back, his feet braced against the bedframe as if to keep his huge body in the rather rickety chair. If that wasn’t enough to make my heart swell, seeing his hand pushed through the railing of the bed, his fingers wrapped about Baba’s had tears threatening to fall. I wanted to curl up between them and cherish the fact both were in my life. Instead, I turned to close the door as quietly as I could.
“Hey.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Alek looking at me, a soft smile on his lips.
“Hey,” I returned softly.
“You hanging in there?”
The fact he didn’t even bother asking if I was all right said so much about this man. Remembering he had personal experience with hospitals only reinforced the fact he knew I wasn’t truly okay.
“Yes, thank you,” I said. “She looks so peaceful, I hate to wake her, but I need to get her home and in her own bed.”
“I’m awake,” Olga said, her eyes opening. “Just resting my eyes. An old woman’s heart can only stand looking at such a handsome man for so long.”
Alek chuckled, and I smiled, moving to the bed and bending down to kiss her cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, a little cold, pretty hungry, but better than I deserve,” she said.
“You deserve the best the world can offer, but how about we start with warming you up?” I asked, pulling her clothing from the plastic bag holding her personal belongings and laying it at the end of the bed.
“I’ll bring the car around,” Alek said.
I’d completely forgotten that, like my purse, my car was at the restaurant. “Thank you, Alek. I—”
“No problem,” he said as he stood and bent over to give my babushka his own kiss.
By the time an orderly gave a knock on the door, we were ready to go. I helped my grandmother into the wheelchair and, when she opened her mouth, I said, “Don’t say a word. It’s hospital policy all patients are wheeled out the door.”
“Well, I rolled in, so I suppose it only makes sense I come out the same way,” she said.26ClaraFucking hell. My brain swam with chaos as I turned into a side street several blocks away from the restaurant where I’d picked up my purse. Grabbing my phone, I unsilenced it and scrolled down, reading the messages in the order they’d come in. The time was stamped on each call. The first one had come in probably less than five minutes after the ambulance had pulled away from the restaurant. The second a half hour later… the third a half hour after that.