Page 31 of That Weekend in Paris
Klein nods in agreement. And I can imagine that he is relieved to be given a few hours escape from the pain.
“I will write the prescription. There is a pharmacy not far from the hotel. I will communicate with the concierge, and someone will bring the medicine to your room shortly if that is okay?”
“Yes, thank you so much,” Klein says.
The doctor gives us each a polite smile and leaves the room.
I sit down on the side of the bed. “Would you like me to see if I can add another day to our stay? You’re not going to feel like going anywhere today.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Let me just call the front desk and see what I can do.”
I decide to use the phone by the door so that Klein can close his eyes and maybe sleep a little. I call the front desk and explain the situation, waiting on hold for a couple of minutes while the very nice woman assisting me checks to see if it will be possible for us to add another day to our stay. When she comes back, her tone is immediately apologetic, “I am very sorry, madame, but it will be possible only to continue another night for one of the two rooms. We are fully booked.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. “Does it matter which room?”
“Either one, but only the one.”
“Then I will go ahead and check out of my room. If you could leave Mr. Matthews’s room as it is for another day, that would be great.”
“Yes, madame. I am sorry we are not able to further accommodate you.”
“Thank you,” I say, and hang up. When I walk back into the room, Klein is not asleep. His eyes are open, and I can see that he is still in a great deal of pain.
“I heard the conversation,” he says. “There’s really no reason for you to find somewhere else to stay. There’s plenty of room in here if you don’t mind hanging with a guy out for the count for a while.”
“Oh, I’m sure you would rather be alone.”
“Dillon, I don’t think I’m going to know whether you’re here much of the time or not, especially once I get my drugs.”
I smile a little at this. And he tries to smile back, but the effort turns into a grimace.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Positive,” he says. “And if you’re not keen on sharing the bed, that sofa is a pullout.”
“That will be more than sufficient for me, and anyway, I’ll be happy to hang around and be your nurse.”
He laughs a little at this, but then says, “Oh, dang, that hurt.”
“Here, no more laughing, you need to rest. And as soon as someone comes with your medicine, I’m going to leave you alone for a bit.”
The knock at the door surprises me. I can’t imagine they’ve gotten here that quickly with the medication. But when I open the door, a young man in a dark suit says, “Your order from the pharmacy, madame.”
“Yes, thank you so much.”
He nods his head and turns for the elevator. I close the door, take the bottle of pills out of the bag, and go into the bathroom to get a glass of water. I remove the top, read the directions, and see that he is to take one tablet.
I hand it to him along with a glass of water, and he takes it gratefully.
“Thank you,” he says, lying back on the pillow and closing his eyes. “I appreciate your help more than I can say.”
“I’m going to let you get some sleep, and I’ll go finish checking out of my room.”
“There’s a key to this room on the desk there. Take that with you.”
“Thank you. Would you like me to close this curtain and make it darker?”
