The Target
Page 94
"Yes, ma'am." Emma slipped into the room and stood by Ramsey while Ginny went out. As soon as she'd left the study, Ramsey picked up the phone.
When he hung up, he swung Emma and her piano up in his arms. "Let's go tell your mom that she's lucky. No going
to any hospital. Nope, she's going to have a real live doctor make a house call to see her."
DR. James Haversham was forty-two, divorced twice, a man who sailed every free minute. He straightened and rubbed his jaw, a habit of long standing. He said finally, still looking down at Molly, still rubbing his jaw, "I need to do some tests."
"No. Forget it. If I ever go to the hospital, I'll be dead and I won't know about it. No tests."
He sighed. "All right, then. My best guess is that you ate something spoiled. Ramsey told me you had linguine with clams on the plane. From what he told me, nearly all of it is out of your system. But you're still having bowel spasms and that's why you started vomiting again. I'm going to give you a shot and some pills. They will help calm your stomach, make you drowsy, and take away the nausea. It'll take time for your bowels to straighten out. You're getting dehydrated. I want you to drink plenty of fluids tonight and tomorrow. Okay, the shot's for your butt. Turn over, please."
"Ramsey, please take Emma outside."
But Emma wasn't about to budge. "No, Mama, you need me. I'll hold your hand."
"You need me, too. I'll hold your other hand. It's your hour of need, Molly."
Emma looked up at him. "Was that a joke, Ramsey?"
"All right," Dr. Haversham said, "both of you turn around so my patient isn't embarrassed."
They turned to face the television that was showing a rerun of M*A*S*H, without sound.
They heard a yelp, then Dr. Haversham's voice. "Now, two of these pills, Mrs. Santera. You're going to stay in bed, sleep and eat through tomorrow. Drink enough water so that you're in the bathroom every fifteen minutes. Any more vomiting, though, and you're coming to the ER. I mean it. Unless you feel better soon, it means there's something
going on here other than food poisoning." She was shaking her head even as he leaned down and said, "You have a beautiful little girl who needs you. Pick something else to be stubborn about."
She sighed. "You're right, of course. Thank you for coming."
"You're welcome." He turned to leave when Molly called out, "What did Ramsey do for you? He said you owed him and that's why you came to the house."
"He saved my life."
"What did he do?"
"When my first ex-wife got drunk and was going to beat up my other ex-wife, but not ex then, Ramsey stepped in. He distracted Melanie and had her dancing the rest of the night."
Molly laughed. "That's quite a debt you've paid off."
Dr. Haversham wasn't about to tell her that he'd made that up. She was a lovely woman with an easy smile on her face. And he'd put the smile there, brought the laugh. It was probably as effective as his pills and shot. "It sure was. Take care, Mrs. Santera."
She was nearly asleep. He smiled and shook Ramsey's hand.
"I heard what you said," Ramsey said. "I didn't know you could think that fast on your feet. We're even now."
"Oh, no. I still owe you another two or three more favors. I remember that water sure was cold. If you hadn't gotten me out of there, I wouldn't be doing favors for anybody."
He leaned down and automatically put his palm against Emma's forehead. She gasped and leaped back. Ramsey just smiled and patted her shoulder. "It's all right, sweetheart. Dr. Haversham just wants to make sure you're not sick like your mama. He's always checking everybody around him. Foreheads are his specialty."
Then Dr. Haversham remembered. This was the little girl who'd been kidnapped and sexually abused. He smiled down at her. "You seem to be in great health to me. You've got a fine forehead. You stick close to your mom, okay?"
"Yes, sir, I will," Emma said, but she kept back, staying close to Ramsey. He felt her hand slide into his. She was holding the piano up with only one arm. He quickly reached down and picked her and her piano up. "Let's see Dr. Haversham out, Emma. Then we can bring some water to your mama."
"She won't like having to go to the bathroom all the time, Ramsey."
"I wouldn't either, but it's her fate for a while."
26
MOLLY SLEPT THROUGH the night. The next morning, she felt weak, but her stomach was settled. Ramsey gave her three slices of toast, thick with strawberry jam. Both Ramsey and Emma sat on the end of her bed, watching her take every bite. Finally, Molly laughed and said, "Enough. Look, two slices. I'm stuffed to my tonsils."
When he hung up, he swung Emma and her piano up in his arms. "Let's go tell your mom that she's lucky. No going
to any hospital. Nope, she's going to have a real live doctor make a house call to see her."
DR. James Haversham was forty-two, divorced twice, a man who sailed every free minute. He straightened and rubbed his jaw, a habit of long standing. He said finally, still looking down at Molly, still rubbing his jaw, "I need to do some tests."
"No. Forget it. If I ever go to the hospital, I'll be dead and I won't know about it. No tests."
He sighed. "All right, then. My best guess is that you ate something spoiled. Ramsey told me you had linguine with clams on the plane. From what he told me, nearly all of it is out of your system. But you're still having bowel spasms and that's why you started vomiting again. I'm going to give you a shot and some pills. They will help calm your stomach, make you drowsy, and take away the nausea. It'll take time for your bowels to straighten out. You're getting dehydrated. I want you to drink plenty of fluids tonight and tomorrow. Okay, the shot's for your butt. Turn over, please."
"Ramsey, please take Emma outside."
But Emma wasn't about to budge. "No, Mama, you need me. I'll hold your hand."
"You need me, too. I'll hold your other hand. It's your hour of need, Molly."
Emma looked up at him. "Was that a joke, Ramsey?"
"All right," Dr. Haversham said, "both of you turn around so my patient isn't embarrassed."
They turned to face the television that was showing a rerun of M*A*S*H, without sound.
They heard a yelp, then Dr. Haversham's voice. "Now, two of these pills, Mrs. Santera. You're going to stay in bed, sleep and eat through tomorrow. Drink enough water so that you're in the bathroom every fifteen minutes. Any more vomiting, though, and you're coming to the ER. I mean it. Unless you feel better soon, it means there's something
going on here other than food poisoning." She was shaking her head even as he leaned down and said, "You have a beautiful little girl who needs you. Pick something else to be stubborn about."
She sighed. "You're right, of course. Thank you for coming."
"You're welcome." He turned to leave when Molly called out, "What did Ramsey do for you? He said you owed him and that's why you came to the house."
"He saved my life."
"What did he do?"
"When my first ex-wife got drunk and was going to beat up my other ex-wife, but not ex then, Ramsey stepped in. He distracted Melanie and had her dancing the rest of the night."
Molly laughed. "That's quite a debt you've paid off."
Dr. Haversham wasn't about to tell her that he'd made that up. She was a lovely woman with an easy smile on her face. And he'd put the smile there, brought the laugh. It was probably as effective as his pills and shot. "It sure was. Take care, Mrs. Santera."
She was nearly asleep. He smiled and shook Ramsey's hand.
"I heard what you said," Ramsey said. "I didn't know you could think that fast on your feet. We're even now."
"Oh, no. I still owe you another two or three more favors. I remember that water sure was cold. If you hadn't gotten me out of there, I wouldn't be doing favors for anybody."
He leaned down and automatically put his palm against Emma's forehead. She gasped and leaped back. Ramsey just smiled and patted her shoulder. "It's all right, sweetheart. Dr. Haversham just wants to make sure you're not sick like your mama. He's always checking everybody around him. Foreheads are his specialty."
Then Dr. Haversham remembered. This was the little girl who'd been kidnapped and sexually abused. He smiled down at her. "You seem to be in great health to me. You've got a fine forehead. You stick close to your mom, okay?"
"Yes, sir, I will," Emma said, but she kept back, staying close to Ramsey. He felt her hand slide into his. She was holding the piano up with only one arm. He quickly reached down and picked her and her piano up. "Let's see Dr. Haversham out, Emma. Then we can bring some water to your mama."
"She won't like having to go to the bathroom all the time, Ramsey."
"I wouldn't either, but it's her fate for a while."
26
MOLLY SLEPT THROUGH the night. The next morning, she felt weak, but her stomach was settled. Ramsey gave her three slices of toast, thick with strawberry jam. Both Ramsey and Emma sat on the end of her bed, watching her take every bite. Finally, Molly laughed and said, "Enough. Look, two slices. I'm stuffed to my tonsils."
