Life is Sweet by Elizabeth Bass

Author:Elizabeth Bass [Bass, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Becca paced the waiting room of Emergency, drinking her third coffee of the night while she awaited word of Walt’s condition.

She wished she could do something for Walt instead of just standing around, but she wasn’t even sure where he’d been taken. The last time she’d seen him was when the paramedics had arrived and loaded him on a stretcher into their ambulance, alive but still unconscious. Not wanting to get stuck without transportation in the middle of the night, she’d followed in her own car. But when she arrived at the hospital, Walt had already been admitted and taken back. Maybe the only benefit of losing consciousness was not having to wait among the sea of the nauseous, bleeding, and cranky people of the ER.

She again approached the receptionist, a woman with a helmet of black hair who sat on the other half of a Plexiglas barrier. Becca suspected she’d been hired specifically for the spectacularly impenetrable I-don’t-give-a-damn vibe she exuded. After each nervous newcomer had their inquiries met by her froggy stare and husky, drill-sergeant commands to sit and wait for their name to be called, it was clear a person had to be very desperate to bother her with a question.

But it was going on eleven now. Becca felt very desperate.

“Excuse me?”

The woman continued tapping on her computer for fifteen seconds before glancing up. “May I help you?” she asked, as if she’d never seen Becca before. As if Becca hadn’t been wearing out the linoleum in front of her for the past two hours.

“Is there news about Walter Johnson?” Using his full name seemed strange. In her mind, he seemed like one of those one-name personalities, like Madonna or Cher. He was just Walt.

The woman looked up at her with an unblinking gaze. “Are you Mr. Johnson’s next of kin?”

Becca wanted to weep. “I told you—I brought him in after finding him unconscious in my bed.”

The woman’s dark brows raised, but maybe in this situation having any kind of intimate relationship assumed between them would be better than nothing. Becca certainly hadn’t gotten far being his unofficial landlady and part-time employer. “I just want to find out how he is, or if he needs anything. Has a doctor seen him?”

“If Mr. Johnson was unconscious when he was brought in, then he most certainly has been seen by someone.”

“Then may I talk to that someone?”

“If you’re not his immediate family—”

She let out a bleat of frustration. “I’m all he’s got right now. If I don’t check on his condition, no one will. Are patients who aren’t lucky enough to have family just supposed to languish all alone in this hospital?”

Her outburst did nothing to soften the receptionist’s demeanor. But she did seem to yield to the logic of Becca’s argument. “Walter Johnson?” she asked, typing.

“Yes.” Finally. Maybe the computer would be able to tell her whether he was still alive or not.

“And what is your name, please?”

Becca clenched her hands. If this was just going to start another argument over whether she was authorized to see Walt .

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