Page 77 of Backdraft
Tears welled up.
"Oh, honey, you were just a child. Obviously, this is a repressed memory. Perhaps it’s why you chose the line of work you’re in, and why you are so diligent on fire safety?"
"How do you know I am diligent about it?" I asked and wiped my face on the edge of the sheet.
"Taylor told me. Even some of your co-workers that came to visit said you’re obsessed with fire safety and are always on their asses about it. They weren't criticizing, but they did say it was a bit of overkill.”
I nodded. "People have told me that before. I don't mean to be but…" I paused to think. "That must be why."
"It must be. Now let’s get this arm wrapped back up."
Everything was starting to make sense now. Why I was the way I was. The reason I chose this career. My constant need to move around with no ties.
I felt like everything would always disappear, like it had when I was a kid, and I'd have to start all over again. It was as if a dark cloud or heavy weight had just been lifted off me.
I needed to speak to Taylor.
Taylor completed the scene he was called to and made his way back to the morgue for the autopsy. The family had requested the postmortem even though the death wasn't suspicious. It was unexpected, and they wanted clarity on the cause. He promised them he would do what he could and advise them.
While he prepared for the PM, he couldn't draw his thoughts from Drea. She had been his main focus for the past week. He'd spent as much time as possible with her, sleeping in the chair next to her bed and showering in her bathroom. He’d only gone home a couple of times to sleep, shower, and to take care of Cinder.
Thankfully, cats were so independent. But Cinder did express his displeasure at being left alone so much. Most of the time, he slept on Drea's bed, only coming down for food, drink, and his litter.
Taylor unwrapped the woman on the table, and his assistants came into the autopsy suite. He put thoughts of Drea away and focused on the job at hand. A few hours later, Taylor finished the report. As he’d suspected, myocardial infarction was the cause, and the family would be advised.
Taylor was excited to see Drea and eager to get back. He changed and decided to grab cheeseburgers, shakes, and fries from the pub close to the hospital. He was pretty sure hospital food was getting tiresome for her, but she'd never complained.
He'd gradually come back to work once she'd woken up and started to feel better. She encouraged him to go, and while he didn't want to leave her, he knew she was safe and healing well.
With bags of food and a tray of drinks, Taylor got off the elevator on her floor. He nodded to the nurses at the station and put a bag of fries for them on the counter.
"I hope you enjoy them," he said.
"Mmm, smells wonderful."
A chorus of thank yous made him smile as he continued past the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, a man standing next to the wall looking at his phone made Taylor pause.
"No, it's not possible," he told himself.
The man glanced at him, and he let out a sigh of relief.
It wasn't who he thought it was, and he carried on to Drea's room.
Her bed had been turned a bit so she could look out the window. When she heard him come in, her smile greeted him, lighting up the room and filling his heart.
"Hey, gorgeous." He put the bags and drinks on the rolling table and leaned down to kiss her.
"Oh, ho, gorgeous, is it? Not if you see this." She pointed at her arm with an exaggerated frown.
"Did you look at it today?" Taylor asked as he unpacked the dinner.
"Yes, and you brought me food. Outside food. Oh gimme, gimme." She lifted her good arm and wiggled her fingers.
He wheeled the table so that she could reach the food.
"Here, let me help." Taylor unwrapped her burger and flattened the paper wrapping. He dumped a pile of fries on it and squirted out a big pile of ketchup.
She picked up the cup and took a long pull on the straw, moaning with pleasure. "Mmm, chocolate, almost better than sex."
