Earth Angel Read Free Page B

But it was a shallow, dull cough, nothing rattling
     inside. “Sorry,” he said, holding up a hand and coughing again.
    I checked him out, but there was nothing much going on but a cold. He talked a lot during the examination, filling me in on
     the details of his life. Divorced. Systems analyst. A Jeep. First-baseman on a softball league. As I moved around him, he
     kept giving me the once-over, which I pretended not to notice. Occupational hazard. I’m fairly young, moderately attractive,
     and a medical doctor. In most guys’ fantasies that classifies me with waitresses and nurses as a “woman who would know how
     to take care of her man.” Basically a service position. Tim and I had been together for eight years, but there was an eight-month
     period right after med school when we had split up, during which I’d dated my fair share of guys who thought my being a doctor
     meant I gave good massages—or enemas. I finished up with Mr. Grieshum and sent him out to see Darlene to pay his bill.
    “Should I stay home, you think?” he asked as he walked backward down the hall. “I mean, so as not to infect others at work
     and such.”
    “Sure,” I said. Absolution didn’t cost me anything. “Might be a good idea.”
    He nodded and hurried away.
    I ducked into the X ray room, examined the X rays. No breaks, no fissures.
    “What’s wrong with Tim?” Helen asked, scaring me again.
    “Jesus, Helen, wear a bell or something.”
    “What’s wrong with Tim?” she repeated. She looked concerned and annoyed.
    “Nothing. He’s just a little cranky about being suspended.” Carol was the only one at work who knew aboutmy miscarriage but, since it was in the papers, everyone knew about Tim’s suspension.
    “No, I mean what’s
wrong
with him. He’s out in the waiting room. Looks like hell. He sick?”
    “He’s here? Did he say he wanted to see me?”
    “He said he was waiting for your break.”
    I looked at my watch. My dinner break wasn’t for another two hours. He knew that. Still, I smiled thinking of him sitting
     at home, missing me. Maybe our recent misfortunes had brought us closer together, the way they always did in the movies. One
     good sign: lately he’d been letting me win at gin rummy. We played for a penny a point and in the past couple of weeks I’d
     whittled down my debt to him to less than two million dollars. “Helen, tell him I‘ll be out in a couple of minutes.”
    “Will do,” she said and bustled off.
    I went into the room with the sprained ankle. A twelve-year-old boy sat on the examining table. His foot was elevated and
     wrapped in a blue Cold-Pak. His mother sat nervously in the chair.
    “Up kinda late, aren’t you, Peter?” I said.
    His mother stood up. “He fell a few hours ago. But he’s been complaining he can’t sleep. I thought maybe I should have it
     checked.”
    “You did the right thing, Ms. Edwards.” I removed the wrapping and pack, felt around. “Doesn’t appear to be broken. X rays
     look good. Probably just a sprain. Keep him off it as much as possible, elevate it when possible. Wear an Ace bandage, but
     don’t put it on too tight. Ice the area on and off for a couple days to keep the swelling down. Aspirin should help with any
     pain.”
    “When can I play on it again?” Peter asked.
    “When it doesn’t hurt, I guess. Probably about the time your parents say you aren’t grounded anymore for skateboarding after
     dark.”
    His mother laughed. “You must have children, Doctor.”
    I smiled, filled out the charge codes on the bill. I handed it to her. “Give this to Darlene at the front desk. She’ll set
     up another appointment for me to check Peter’s ankle.”
    “Thank you, Doct—”
    A loud popping sound interrupted us. Then a scream. Three more popping sounds.
    “What’s that?” Peter’s mom asked.
    I looked toward the closed door. “I don’t know. A light fixture, I guess.”
    Another scream, two pops. They were louder now, coming