Page 56 of Betting on the Bad Boy
I turned at the sound of the curtain sliding open. A man who didn’t look that much older than I was stepped into the cubby. He offered his hand in introduction. “I’m Doctor Cain. You must be Mrs. Bishop’s grandson. I believe you were listed as next of kin.”
I shook his hand and nodded.
“Your grandmother had a pretty bad fall. She bumped her head and there was quite a bit of swelling?—”
“That’s what the nurse said on the phone. When will she wake up?”
“As I was saying, there was quite a bit of swelling. We thought it would be best to go ahead and keep her heavily sedated until the swelling goes down.”
I nodded. “Wait. What do you mean heavily sedated?”
The doctor stepped over to the foot of the bed and picked up a chart. “Sometimes, in the case of a moderate trauma to the head, it’s best if we keep a patient sedated. It will minimize your grandmother’s discomfort and give her brain a chance to heal faster.”
This was a lot to take in. I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing it was still long enough to grab a fistful and let out a deep sigh. “What happens next?” I took in a ragged breath.
The doctor shrugged. “Rumor has it Mrs. Bishop is a pretty tough cookie. She might be totally fine and just wake up with a bad headache. I know it’s hard to wait, but we’re doing absolutely everything we possibly can for her. The best thing you can do is talk to her, sit by her bedside and hold her hand. I’m sure she can hear you and has some awareness of what’s going on. I wish I could tell you more, but only time will tell us what we can expect.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“If you have any other questions, feel free to ask one of the nurses to find me. I’ll be around for the next couple of hours. Once we get the paperwork done, she’ll be moved up to a room.”
I stuck out my hand, and the doctor grasped it in another firm handshake.
“Take care, Dante.” He stepped out of the curtain, leaving me and Meemaw alone in the brightly lit room.
CHAPTER 29
Faith
I tooka sip of champagne as I waited in the personal shopper dressing room. My mother was arguing with the leggy blonde saleswoman at the front counter over which dress I should try on first.
It was pointless to start a fight about going to the party. Mom knew what she was doing all along. She was right. If she’d warned me about it ahead of time, I probably would have come up with some excuse to change my flight. Instead, I was on my second glass of champagne and had already consumed five of the decadent dark chocolates from the silver tray next to me.
“Ah, here we are.” The blonde whirled into the room with a yellow concoction draped over her arms.
“Yellow?” I asked. “Won’t I look like a giant lemon?”
Mom sat down on the edge of the couch next to me. “Oh Faith, it’s buttercream chiffon, nowhere near lemon. Just try it on, for heaven’s sake.”
“Fine.” I got up from the couch and set my empty glass down on the tray.
“Right over here.” Blondie stepped into a large dressing room and hung the dress on a giant hook on the wall. “Let me know when you have it on, and I’ll help you fasten the back.”
I nodded and let the curtain fall closed behind me. I whipped off my shirt and stepped out of my jeans, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. Stepping back, I studied the yellow dress with a critical eye. Buttercream chiffon, my ass. More like a giant helping of banana pudding.
I unzipped the back and climbed in, slipping the thick straps up onto my shoulders. Twirling around to face myself in the mirror, I took in my reflection. The flat front did nothing for my bust line and the wide, full skirt made me look like I’d gained twenty pounds in the last thirty seconds.
“I only ate five,” I muttered under my breath.
“How’s it going in there?”
“What are my other options?” I asked.
The curtain slid back and Mom gazed upon me in the mirror.
“Stand up straight. Chest out. Wipe that frown off your face.” I struck my best runway model pose, sucking in my cheeks and sticking out a hip. She stepped closer, trying to fluff the skirt out behind me. “Maybe if we zipped it up, it wouldn’t look so large.”
Blondie stepped in, drawing the two sides of the back together and tugging the zipper closed. Now the fabric stretched tight across my middle, squeezing my breasts up and almost over the bodice. “Much better, Mom. Don’t you think?”
