Page 103 of The Blessings of Christmas
May the force be with me.
That weird antiseptic smell did a number on Victoria’s stomach again. She wrinkled her nose. Then she remembered. Her head. But the groan she managed sounded more like a cow in heat. In fifth grade, Horace Higby invited the whole class to a nature visit at one of his family’s properties. They’d gotten more than a look at the country.
“Can I help you?” the older woman asked when she reached the admissions desk. Good thing Audrey wasn’t there tonight.
Scrunching up her face, Victoria tried to recall her research. “I had a terrible fall.”
“Are you able to fill this out?” The woman handed her a clipboard
She grabbed it––her ticket to another visit with Dr. Hot Stuff. “Sure. It’s not my eyes this time.”
“This time?” The woman threw her a puzzled look.
Whoa. TMI, Victoria. Thankfully, at that moment a woman came in, holding a child. Victoria’s heart turned over. Taking a seat, she tried not to listen to the mother’s sad story as she filled in the form. The little boy had gotten something lodged inhis nose. “I don’t know what it is. He’s always touching things and even takes his toys apart. The tongue from his teddy bear is missing.” The mother was trying not to lose it.
Her form completed, Victoria sat back in the vinyl chair. Sure, a child trumped a fake concussion but how long would this take?
The mother and child were ushered into the inner sanctum. The coast seemed clear. She waited five minutes before walking to the desk and handing the clipboard to the registration clerk. “Can I go back now?”
“If you take a seat, you’ll be called when they’re ready.”
So that’s how it was. Maybe she hadn’t moaned enough. This vinyl chair got harder every time she sat down. From the back came the wail of a child. Sometimes Victoria wondered if she wanted children. But wait. The masculine rumble in the back sounded familiar. Chills chased up her arms. Dr. Hot Stuff was in a good mood tonight.
Crossing her legs, she waited her turn––something that didn’t come naturally to Victoria. Every once in a while, she held her head as if it were killing her. She had to look convincing.
While she waited, she studied the tree. Even with its few ornaments, her tree was prettier than this one. Reflected in the glass of the waiting room, the tree here was encircled by homemade construction paper loops and chains. In her head she heard her mother say, “Well, my goodness. Really?” At the very top sat a simple straw star, no angel with golden wings and a long billowing white skirt that made her look as if she were ready to take flight, like Mary Poppins.
Sitting there, she chuckled, remembering the year she got it into her head to decorate their tree with plaid ribbons and bows. It looked like the Fifth Avenue wrapping department had gone crazy. Not amused, Mom quickly called Franz. The plaids had been an expensive experiment.
This year she was missing all that hubbub. Her own apartment insulated her from her mother’s frenzy. The wave of guilt caught her by surprise. She hadn’t been home lately. But she better stop by soon for the scoop on Palm Beach. The brunches and the balls. She needed details so she could call her personal shopper in New York to ship some gowns. Maybe Mama had already taken care of that.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Victoria?”
“Yes. Yes.” Relieved that this wasn’t Betsy, she forgot this wasn’t the nail salon.I’m injured. One hand to the back of her head, and she followed the perky redhead into the treatment area. Those scrubs were kind of cute. Maybe she should order a set. But they definitely had to work on the colors. That dark maroon wasn’t very flattering.
This time she ended up in a glass cubicle right in front of the nurses station. Great location. The docs must use that desk too, or so she figured. In the background the child was still crying but not as hard.
“Why don’t you take the chair?” The redhead studied the chart. “Now what have we here?”
“Concussion,” Victoria said quickly. Maybe too quickly. How did a person with a concussion act? The moaning had been embarrassing.
“Where does your head hurt?”
“The back. Right here.” With that, she slapped a hand on the back of her head.
“Could you take your jacket off please?”
“Sure.” She slipped it off and the nurse took her blood pressure, followed by her temperature. By that time, Victoria knew the drill.
“Nice necklace,” the nurse said, writing on the chart.
“Thank you.” Victoria nervously fingered the pearls.
“How did you hurt your head?”
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? “I, ah...slipped in the kitchen. Fell and banged my head on the floor.”
“You gotta watch that.” She looked down. “Maybe get grips for your shoes.”
