In the Blood by Tom Fowler

Author:Tom Fowler [Fowler, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Widening Gyre Media

Chapter 18

The next day passed uneventfully. Parrish postponed our second chat to tomorrow. I took another turn in the rehab room, again falling short of reaching the end. I managed to get a couple steps closer this time. Even Stan sounded a little less surly than he did yesterday. Maybe tomorrow, I would navigate the bars all the way to the end. I wondered what new torture awaited if I did.

I woke up the next morning hungry. Breakfast waited for me on the tray. I wondered what food-like substances lurked under the lid for me today. I pulled it off to find more scrambled eggs, home fries, and an English muffin. Instead of juice, whoever dropped off my morning meal left me a paper cup of coffee. I added the two creamers and took a sip. It tasted weaker than I made it, but it was glorious all the same. This was my first java in weeks, and I meant to savor it.

After I ate, Gloria arrived. She shared some bacon from the cafeteria with me. One of the many reasons I loved her. My parents walked through the door a short while later. They brought no food or coffee with them. We all chatted for a while. Then, I felt tired, and I woke up close to lunch time. Gloria remained, looking at something on her phone. She read the screen and scrolled repeatedly before tapping a message at the end. She looked up, smiled, and slipped her mobile into her pocket. “Welcome back.”

“I wish I didn’t sleep so much,” I said, frowning. “I know I’m stuck in this bed for the most part, but it’s frustrating.”

“You have rehab later?” Gloria asked. I nodded. “Keep working. You’ll make progress, and once you’re able to get up and do more, I think your energy will return.”

“I hope so. A couple months in a bed and chair, and I’ll look like Nero Wolfe. I’d just need a room full of orchids.” Gloria wore a blank expression. “Fictional detective. Very smart, but a fat guy who stayed in his house almost all the time.”

“You’re not going to get fat,” she said with a grin. “If anything, I think you’ve lost weight over the last few weeks.”

“I doubt I’ll be putting much back on with my diet of hospital food.”

As if on cue, a young woman came in and set a tray on my table. It was the usual dull pink plastic with a beige lid precisely dark enough to be opaque. Maybe the hospital wanted to build suspense. I lifted the top. Inside were a turkey sandwich with a slice of white cheese, a small salad, and cooked carrots which looked mushy enough to serve as infant food. I ate the first two items while still talking to Gloria.

A little after lunch, Stan joined us and wheeled me down to rehab. Gloria came with us. He pushed me through the door, and I saw Rich and Joey waiting near the parallel beams.

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