ER …
"A detached retina, how?" Meg asked Dr. Brown, aghast at the diagnosis. The opthamologist looked grim.
"I'm afraid so. The sooner we get into surgery the more likely we can repair the damage without any side effects." Dr. Brown's words left Meg feeling hollow.
"How soon?" She asked, her mind spinning.
"First thing tomorrow morning. Say the word and I'll have my nurse schedule it." He made it sound so simple.
"Schedule it then." Meg answered with more calm than she felt.
"Alright, I'll get the ball rolling." Dr. Brown shook Meg's hand before he left. The lady Mountie was left sitting in a hard, plastic chair in the exam room by herself. The thought of a major surgery scared her like nothing she'd ever experienced. Images of the sheep eyeballs she dissected in high school biology came back to her. Bile rose in her stomach as tears filled her unseeing eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. Meg knew that there was a chance, however small, that something could go wrong on the operating table, that she may not wake up ever again.
"Inspector Thatcher, there's a man here to pick you up." A blurry nurse said after stepping through the curtains surrounding the exam room.
"Tall, good looking, dark hair?" Meg asked as she began wiping her tears away.
"Yep, that's him." The nurse's smile could be heard in her pleasant voice. "I'll tell him you'll be ready as soon as you've signed some paperwork."
"Send him back here, I'll need someone to escort me to the car." Meg instructed, hoping she didn't have mascara smeared down her face.
"Okay, just a moment." Meg heard her shoes squeak when she turned to leave. "I'd like to have him escort me somewhere." The nurse said as she walked away from the exam room. Meg chuckled. It wasn't the first time she'd heard a similar statement about Fraser.
The Inspector didn't know how long it was until she heard the sound of heavy foot falls coming down the tiled floor toward her. The sound of metal rings dragging in their tracks told Meg that Fraser had arrived.
"Inspector Thatcher." He stepped inside the curtained cocoon and came to stand beside the chair where Meg sat. She turned her head in the direction of his voice out of habit.
"Constable Fraser, the doctor said it was a detached retina. I'm scheduled for surgery first thing tomorrow morning. You'll be in charge, temporarily, until I'm fully recovered." Meg said, her mind a million steps into the future.
"Are you alright, Inspector?" Fraser asked, squatting down to her level. Meg felt cold and tired from nerves.
"I'm fine, Constable Fraser." She answered, pursing her lips in annoyance.
"Here's the release forms you need to sign, Inspector Thatcher." The same nurse brought back a sheaf of paperwork. She helped explained what each sheet said and helped Meg scratch her signature across the bottom.
"You're free to go, Inspector, best of luck." The nurse wished her as she opened the curtains to walk away.
"Constable Fraser, will you take me to the consulate, I still have a million things to do." Meg stood up, unsure of Ben's location. Her first step brought her to a stop as she smacked into him.
"Here, let me guide you out, Sir." Fraser gently took her hand and tucked her arm to his side. Together they made it to the Lincoln where he laid a gentle hand on the top of her head to keep her from knocking it on the frame.
The Consulate …
"I'm not helpless, Constable Fraser, I've walked up these steps a thousand times." Meg fussed as he told her how many steps there were up to the consulate's front door.
"Yes, Sir." Was all he said as he laid her hand on the hand rail. Still, it was a little disconcerting to move without knowing where she was going or how close things were. Fraser had the door open for her. He led her to the wall where Meg ran her hands along the textured wallpaper until she hit her office door. She'd never realized just how far her office was from the front door. The grandfather clock ticking at the end of the hall was loud, as was the sound of the church bells outside the consulate. Before, Meg had taken these things for granted. Now she could smell the lemon furniture polish Turnbull used on the staircase and the smell of Fraser and his leather polish. She smelled something spicy as well.
"Is Turnbull cooking something?" Meg stopped before she opened her office door.
"No, Sir, not that I'm aware of." Fraser answered, lifting his own nose to the air current down the hall.
"I smell something spicy, red peppers perhaps." Meg tried to place the smell with the source.
"Oh, that's Diefenbaker, he ate a slice of pizza while we were at the restaurant." Fraser answered.
"Send Turnbull into my office, please, Fraser." Meg fumbled for the door knob.
"Yes, Inspector. Is there anything else you'd like me to do?" Fraser asked before leaving her alone.
"No, Constable, you've done quite enough for today." Meg said with more venom than she'd intended.
"Understood." Fraser turned to leave quickly. Meg felt like banging her head against a brick wall somewhere. She was taking her own pain and fear out on him.
"I'm sorry, Fraser." Meg whispered to herself as she moved on into her office.
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With Turnbull's help, Meg made last minute arrangements. There were phone calls to be made and information to be faxed and emailed. Meg gave Turnbull orders while she sat with her eyes closed.
By seven o'clock she had a headache and was read to pitch the junior Mountie out the nearest window. He meant well, hovering around her as if Meg were a Faberge egg, but he was annoying.
"Turnbull, you're dismissed." Meg finally let him go when he spilled cold coffee all over her hand.
"How will you get home safely, Sir?" Turnbull asked as he stepped back, away from the desk.
"Fraser will call a taxi for me, Turnbull, thank you for your concern." Meg answered more forcefully than she'd intended.
"Have a good night, Sir." Turnbull wished her quickly.
"Thank you, Turnbull." Meg's tone softened.
"Best of luck, Sir." Turnbull closed the office door behind himself.
Meg was left alone for the first time all day. It felt good for a moment, until she realized that she couldn't just get in a taxi, go to her comfortable apartment and fix dinner for one like she usually did. The thought of not being self-sufficient startled Meg. She had no one in Chicago to call, no one who could come and stay the night with her and help her get ready to be at the hospital the next morning before the crack of dawn.
TYKTYKTYK
