He shakes my hand and says, “you’re a lieutenant, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Connors folds his arms across his chest—not defensively, but casually, like we’re two guys at a bar talking about the ballgame.”
“I can’t imagine doing what you guys do,” he says, shaking his head.
“I feel the same way about what you do.”
The doctor laughs heartily and claps me on the shoulder with surprising strength.
“So tell me, doc, when do you think Harper’s gonna be fit for work again?”
“As soon as he feels ready. That could be a week or a month. But give him some time. He’s been through a traumatic experience.”
I nod. “Give him time. Copy that.”
“And get on his case if he doesn’t pursue physical therapy. I’m a firm believer that active recovery is the cornerstone of successful recovery. Don’t let him sit around and do nothing. And there’s something else I think you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I’m not one to pry into my patients’ personal lives, but given the nature of your work, I feel there’s an overlap between Harper’s personal health and public safety.”
I give him a puzzled look. “Go on.”
“As his lieutenant, I think you should know that Harper’s blood work revealed a significant amount of alcohol. He was intoxicated. In your line of work, I imagine that’s problematic. And, of more immediate relevance, I held off on giving him narcotic painkillers. Opiates and alcohol don’t get along so well. Keep an eye on him.”
I caress my forehead. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Dr. Connors walks away leaving me stunned. I just can’t believe it. Harper. A guy who’s so disciplined he doesn’t even let himself miss haircuts. Drunk on the job.
I stand in the hall feeling a little sick to my stomach. I might have to kick his ass.
4
Courtship
She’s coming back.I can hear her in the hall. About half an hour ago she gave me a pain killer and said she’d be back to check on me.
I can’t help but smile. It could be the pain med kicking in because I feel like I’m floating.
I hear her laugh just outside the door. She has a nice voice. It’s a little hoarse, which somehow makes it more endearing. With dark brown hair tied in a bun, a round face, high cheekbones, and a button nose that turns up ever so slightly, there’s something both girlish and devilish about her.
Did I mention she’s super easy to talk to? She grew up with three brothers and has that laidback, one-of-the-guys thing going.
Her name is Penelope and she’s my nurse.
My heart is racing as she enters the room with a lunch tray and places it on my lap. About five minutes later, she breaks the silence.
“I can’t watch this anymore,” Penelope says. She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, watching me eat.
As you can imagine, I’m having some difficulties. I’m terrible at eating with my left hand. But she seems to think it’s funny. Or pitiable. I’ll take either.
She giggles when I use my teeth to open a packet of plasticware.
She decides to intervene, leans forward, and snatches my spork right out of my hand. Her wonderful scent wafts over me, and it’s heaven.
“What’s happening here?” I say. “You’re gonna feed me?”
