Suture Self by Mary Daheim Page B

she isn’t quite ready to stand. Still, if she doesn’t try…”
    â€œIf she doesn’t try, she won’t pass out,” Renie cut in tersely. “Let me get somebody to help you put her back to bed.”
    Though Heather was stronger than she looked, she didn’t turn down the offer. The nurse was a short, slim size four; Judith was a statuesque size fourteen. Another strong body was needed for the task. Renie found the silent orderly just outside the door, stacking trays onto the meal cart.
    Judith’s eyelids fluttered open as the nurse and the orderly got her back into bed. “Oh…What happened?” she asked, her mouth dry and her eyes unfocused.
    â€œYou had a little setback,” Heather said, tucking the covers around Judith. “We’ll try that again later.” The nurse began taking vital signs.
    Renie was standing by the windows. “Damn,” she breathed, “I think it may snow. I wish Bill and Joe would get here soon, while it’s still daylight.”
    â€œJoe said he’d be by around three,” Judith said. “Bill’s coming with him, I think.” She took a deep breath before Heather popped the thermometer in her mouth.
    â€œRight, there’s no point in taking two cars,” Renie said, looking down at the hospital entrance’s graceful landscaping and the adjacent parking lot. “Boy, it looks really cold out there. I can feel the chill through the windows.”
    Judith couldn’t respond with the thermometer in her mouth. The dizziness had passed, but she felt weak as a newborn lamb. The idea of trying to stand up later in the day sounded impossible.
    â€œI need some water,” she said in a thick voice after Heather had removed the thermometer. “I’m so dry.”
    â€œYou mustn’t get dehydrated,” Heather warned, proffering the plastic glass. “Remember how we’ve told you to keep taking in fluids.”
    â€œHey,” Renie said, “I see Addison Kirby heading for the parking lot. I wonder if he’s off to see Tubby Turnbull at the…Look out!” She shuddered as her good arm reached out toward the window in a pleading motion. “Ohmigod!”
    â€œWhat?” Judith sputtered, choking on the water.
    Horror-stricken, Renie staggered around to stare at Judith and Heather. “It’s awful,” she gasped, leaning against the window embrasure for support. “A car just came from out of nowhere and ran over Addison Kirby!”
    Â 
    Heather Chinn ran off to get help. Renie stood rooted by the window. “The car took off,” she said in a shaky voice. “Poor Addison’s lying there in a heap.”
    Judith had rolled over onto her side, though shecouldn’t get a better view of what was happening beyond the window. “Is he…?” she asked in a fearful voice.
    â€œNo, he’s moving,” Renie said. “Sort of.”
    â€œDamn!” Feebly, Judith swung a fist in frustration. “I feel so helpless!”
    â€œHere comes a guy in a white coat and another guy in some kind of uniform.” Renie was trying to open the window with her good hand, but it wouldn’t budge. “The white coat may be a doctor. Yes, I think it’s what’s his-name—Garnett, the second in command. The guy in uniform may be security. Here comes somebody else, in civvies. He looks sort of familiar.” She gave up trying to open the window and flexed the muscles of her left arm before rapping loudly on the wavery old glass. “Hey, he’s looking up. It’s Jim Randall,” Renie said, breathless. “Here come some more people with a gurney.”
    â€œDouble damn,” Judith muttered. “I feel like an idiot. Why couldn’t I at least be in a wheelchair?”
    â€œYou will be,” Renie responded. “Huh. They seem to be paying special attention to Addison’s left leg. Maybe it’s