Information is always a good thing to have. But so far, this is all I have.
I don't know his name or where he works. And he doesn't introduce himself.
Gretchen goes and stands near the door, not leaving, not speaking, and staring him in the eye when he casts her an irritated glance.
"Which one is Lourdes?"
"I'm fine. But Lyndall needs her arm seen to. She's a violinist, and?—"
"Lyndall?" He goes to her and starts feeling her arm.
"Doctor...?"
"Yes?"
"I...uh..." She stops. "What's your name?"
"Oh God, are you a hysterical child? You'll be fine. Your arm is fine." He wraps it up, presumably to hinder too much movement and to keep swelling down.
Afterward, he takes her temperature, then mine, frowns, and writes something down.
He hands it to Gretchen. "I've got actual patients to see."
With that, he's gone.
I look at Gretchen. "What did he write down?"
She shakes her head and folds the paper.
But this time it's me who doesn't look away.
Gretchen sighs then and straightens out the paper. "It's a prescription for sleeping pills and a note for aspirin. I guess because of the crash. Now I have to go."
Once more, we're alone.
"Can you take sleeping pills?" Lyndall hisses.
"I'm not taking anything, and neither are you." Then I go join her on the bed. "I don't think he's going to hurt us."
"Yet."
"Not at all. No one goes to this effort just to hurt or kill someone. He probably just wants that money."
Lyndall doesn't seem convinced. "Probably."
"We just have to be our best selves."
"Like Gretchen?"
I deserve the burn, but I'm being like this for her, for the baby. "We can't antagonize him, okay?"
"Okay."
I rub my mostly flat tummy, and she nods.
Lyndall thinks I said that for the baby's sake. But I don'tthink he'll hurt me. And as long as he doesn't know about Squish, then Squish is fine.
But I can't agitate him or antagonize him. Or even let her do it. Because the most logical person for Dom to take his fury or frustrations out on is Lyndall.
