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Okay, this one’s a little frightening, but I have to respect how much she cares about her friend. “If I hurt her, I’ll jump in there myself, I swear.”
Bianca seems appeased when she says, “I wasn’t lying when I said she wasn’t home. She's not here.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“A couple of days? I’m honestly not sure.”
“Days?” I ask, panic rising inside me. That’s too long to go without fixing things between us.
Violet and Bianca exchange a look that I can’t quite interpret. This time, it’s Violet that turns to me. “I don’t know what she’s told you about her family, but she got a phone call early this morning from her sister. Her mom overdosed, and she’s in the hospital. She took off back to Milford to be with them.”
Fuck. She needed me, but I was drinking myself stupid on the balcony of a hotel room. If I hadn’t been such an asshole, she would have been with me when her sister called this morning. I could have taken her back home. Helped her. Maybe I still can.
I try to shove my mind back into my no-nonsense business mode when I demand, “Tell me everything.”
I need all the facts of the situation so that I can tackle this new problem. They tell me everything they know and I take down all the information. The two of them provide Hollie’s mom’s name, her address, and the hospital she’s being treated at. I’m not sure why these two are being so accommodating, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
I may not have been able to be with her last night, but I’ll be damned if I let her handle this thing on her own. Even if she doesn’t forgive me, the least I can do is help her with this.
After leaving Hollie’s house and her still slightly suspicious roommates, I make the drive back to my house. I need to take a shower, finally change out of this suit, and pack a bag for a few days. While I’m in my bedroom gathering some essentials, I form a loose plan of what I can do to help.
I have some calls to make, but I can do that from the road. I’d hire a driver to make things easier, but I don’t think they would drive fast enough for my current degree of desperation. Even though the Maserati is by far my fastest car, I decide to take the Corvette. Hollie mentioned she wanted to go for a drive in it once and I’ll use anything I can at this point to give me an advantage. I toss my duffel bag in the tiny back seat and hit the road. The GPS says that the trip will take about four hours. I bet I can make it in three.
Twenty-Five
hollie
“Hollie?” a worn, scratchy voice calls out to me as I slowly climb my way out of a restless sleep.
I jump out of the chair that’s way too comfortable to belong in a hospital and rush over to the bed.
“Mom? Can you hear me?” I grab her hand and see that her eyes are open but unfocused.
“I have ears don’t I?” I don’t know why I thought a drug overdose, a heart attack, and a stay in the hospital would soften her up some, but I was obviously wrong.
I hit the call button to alert the nurse that Mom’s awake enough to harass me.
“Do you remember what happened?” I ask her, wondering if she even knows where she is or why she’s here.
“Not really. Why aren’t you in Seattle?” She pauses a moment to peer around the room. It doesn’t look like any hospital room I’ve ever been in, but the bed and gown are a dead giveaway. “Where are we?”
“You’re in the hospital,” I answer her. “You overdosed yesterday. Then had a heart attack,” I add.
“I don’t know what kind of hospital you’ve got me in but I don’t need to be here,” she huffs out. “I’m fine. We can get out of here.” I should have expected this. She never has made the right decision. Now she wants to get out of the hospital before she’s been cleared.
She looks so small in that big hospital bed, especially with all the tubes and wires hooked up to her. I’m a little surprised she hasn’t started shaking or throwing up from withdrawals, but I’m sure that will come upon us shortly. That’s something neither one of us is looking forward to. I’ll have to get used to it if I’m going to move back here and help take care of her and Paige.
I’m about to argue with her about staying in bed when a tall woman in a white coat walks into the room, giving the open door a courtesy knock. She’s around my mother’s age and has an air of authority around her. She’s obviously someone that knows what she’s doing and is confident in her abilities.
“Regina, I see you’re awake. That’s some good news.” She grabs the chart at the end of the bed and starts making notes.
“Excuse me,” I interrupt, “what happened to the other doctor?”
She looks up at me with a smile before answering. “Ms. Simmons has been transferred into my care. I’m Doctor Duma. Now let’s see what we can do to get you out of here and back on your feet as quickly as possible.”
A new doctor? I don’t know what the hell is going on in this place, but I don’t have the energy to ask any longer. I’m so stressed and confused, I decide I’m just going to go along with the program. Why bother fighting about billing, a private room, or a new doctor when no one is listening to me anyway?
Mom perks up at the idea of getting out of the hospital and she sits up in her bed, trying to scoot to the edge. “Listen Doc, there’s nothing wrong with me. I can get out of here now. I’m perfectly fine.”
