Chapter 6
By the weekend, Christy was ready to go home. She had a lovely house in one of the suburbs, the only disadvantage being, it was about as far from the hospital as you could get. After quite possibly the longest cross town journey ever, the two friends finally made it through the front door.
Though her head was now fine, the poor woman had a broken collar bone and still mending crush damage in one foot. And having her arm in a cast made walking with a crutch rather a challenge.
But she was nothing if not determined. By Sunday, she could just about manage to get around the house, although venturing outside was more of a problem.
Most of the time, Christy held court in the lounge, propped up on the couch. There was little the pair could do but talk. And there was one topic that could no longer be avoided. Even so, she tried to bring it up gently;
"So, did you miss sunny Chicago?" she began facetiously, "God, I envied you last winter."
"I never really minded the snow." Replied Kim absently
'That went well,' she thought, searching for another opening.
"And your job's going OK?"
"Yeah, the hospital's great. No Robert Romano, no -"
She stopped abruptly, not liking where this was going.
"No Kerry?"
Kim sighed wearily, closing her eyes.
"No Kerry."
"What is it, Kim? I thought you told me it was it over with her."
"I did. But that was before..."
"What? I know something's happened."
The psychiatrist picked up her glass of wine and stared into it meditatively.
"At the hospital, Dr Anspaugh came to see me. I wish he'd damn well stayed away!"
Her brief flare of anger soon died down.
"He told me...that she threatened Romano, that she told him she'd quit if he fired me."
Christy stared at her in disbelief. She opened her mouth to respond, but Kim hadn't come to what really hurt;
"She never even called! Just one god-damn phone call, a letter, even!"
"Would you really have come back?"
"Maybe." She gestured angrily, "Shit, I don't know."
They were silent for a few minutes, while Christy longed to get up and go to her. But there was one more thing she had to ask,
"Have you said anything to her?"
"How can I!?"
Her voice dropped to a despondent murmur.
"She's found someone else."
"Are you sure?"
"I saw them together."
The other woman could find no words of comfort. She watched anxiously as Kim sipped at her drink, staring blankly across the room.
Christy had helped her friend through innumerable failed relationships. From the outset she'd been wary of the unpredictable Dr. Weaver. Listening to Kim raving on in their first few weeks together, she'd pictured Kerry as funny, intelligent, passionate...a far cry from the mousey, sensitive woman she'd met at that disastrous dinner, and different again from the cool, professional doctor of last week. Who was the real Kerry Weaver? And how did she really feel about Kim's return?
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
If Kerry had known that, things would have been a whole lot easier. Currently she was trying not to think about it. Instead, she threw herself into her work, taking endless night shifts and doubles, and generally ensuring the only thing she did at home was sleep. Sandy couldn't help noticing her girlfriend's odd behaviour, but she could only hope it would pass.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
As the week went on, Christy became increasingly concerned about her friend. Since that one time, Dr Weaver's name had never been spoken between them. The subject was closed. Legaspi spent her time brooding silently in the house, or walking restlessly around the city. Christy was no shrink, but she knew this couldn't be healthy.
One afternoon, when Kim was out yet again, Christy was doing the laundry - one thing she could do sitting down. She picked up a pair of Kim's jeans, and on checking the pockets, pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper. In case it was important, she had a quick look, and was extremely surprised to see a note, a phone number no less, from some woman called Rose. Who the hell was Rose? Had Kim called her? Christy got the feeling her friend was hiding something.
In truth there was little to hide. Kim had never called the number, but had met her admirer unexpectedly in Magoos one time. Disheartened by a long day at Christy's bedside, Kim had slipped into the familiar diner for a coffee before she went home. And Rose had walked in as she picked up her drink from the counter.
"Kim, isn't it?"
She turned, irritated, not in the mood for conversation.
But a slightly guilty feeling prodded her to try and be civil.
"Oh, hi - Rose, right?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if I'd see you in here."
"Please, join me."
They sat down in one of the booths, both somewhat embarrassed. Kim felt she had to straighten a few things out.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call. It's just - I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, and I'm not really looking for any more...complications."
"Sure, I understand. I'm not asking anything from you. But if you want to talk..."
She smiled reassuringly.
"Thanks, Rose. Let's just have coffee."
A far more comfortable pause followed.
"How's your friend?" the young physio asked.
"Still the same."
"I'm sorry. It must be awful."
"Yeah."
The two new friends continued to talk quietly until Rose had to go back to work. While Kim was visiting every day, they met for lunch a few times, the psychiatrist very glad of the company. But on Christy's discharge, Rose had thought it best to step back a little. She'd left it entirely up to Kim whether to continue their acquaintance.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
By the time Kim returned later that afternoon, her friend was unbearably curious about this mystery woman . Legaspi flopped down into her favourite chair, enquiring half-heartedly about the other's health.
"I'm fine," Christy replied, "You?"
"I'm okay."
This was so blatantly untrue, Christy felt quite angry at her.
"Right." She muttered sarcastically.
All thoughts of a subtle approach were gone. She just wanted a response from Kim, even a fight would be better than this.
"So who's Rose?"
"Rose?"
At least the other was actually looking at her.
"I found this."
She flourished the note dramatically. Kim glanced at it, then carelessly replied,
"Oh, her."
"Her? Is that all you're going to say?"
"What?"
"God, Kim, I find some woman's number in your pocket, you don't think I start to wonder?"
"It's nothing. I met her in a bar."
"And?"
"And what? We talked. She left that on my car the other week."
"Huh? Is she stalking you or something?"
"Course not. She works at the hospital, she must've seen me in the car park."
"I see."
She didn't really.
"So...did you meet her again?"
"Yes, actually. We had lunch a couple of times."
She caught Christy's knowing look.
"That's it." she said sharply, "We're just friends."
"Okay, okay. So come on, what's she like?"
"Brunette, quite short - she's a physical therapist."
"Is she now..."
If Kim had been paying attention, she would have seen the wheels turning in Christy's mind right then. Someone Kim knew, someone on the spot at County...this Rose could be just what the Doctor ordered.
By the weekend, Christy was ready to go home. She had a lovely house in one of the suburbs, the only disadvantage being, it was about as far from the hospital as you could get. After quite possibly the longest cross town journey ever, the two friends finally made it through the front door.
Though her head was now fine, the poor woman had a broken collar bone and still mending crush damage in one foot. And having her arm in a cast made walking with a crutch rather a challenge.
But she was nothing if not determined. By Sunday, she could just about manage to get around the house, although venturing outside was more of a problem.
Most of the time, Christy held court in the lounge, propped up on the couch. There was little the pair could do but talk. And there was one topic that could no longer be avoided. Even so, she tried to bring it up gently;
"So, did you miss sunny Chicago?" she began facetiously, "God, I envied you last winter."
"I never really minded the snow." Replied Kim absently
'That went well,' she thought, searching for another opening.
"And your job's going OK?"
"Yeah, the hospital's great. No Robert Romano, no -"
She stopped abruptly, not liking where this was going.
"No Kerry?"
Kim sighed wearily, closing her eyes.
"No Kerry."
"What is it, Kim? I thought you told me it was it over with her."
"I did. But that was before..."
"What? I know something's happened."
The psychiatrist picked up her glass of wine and stared into it meditatively.
"At the hospital, Dr Anspaugh came to see me. I wish he'd damn well stayed away!"
Her brief flare of anger soon died down.
"He told me...that she threatened Romano, that she told him she'd quit if he fired me."
Christy stared at her in disbelief. She opened her mouth to respond, but Kim hadn't come to what really hurt;
"She never even called! Just one god-damn phone call, a letter, even!"
"Would you really have come back?"
"Maybe." She gestured angrily, "Shit, I don't know."
They were silent for a few minutes, while Christy longed to get up and go to her. But there was one more thing she had to ask,
"Have you said anything to her?"
"How can I!?"
Her voice dropped to a despondent murmur.
"She's found someone else."
"Are you sure?"
"I saw them together."
The other woman could find no words of comfort. She watched anxiously as Kim sipped at her drink, staring blankly across the room.
Christy had helped her friend through innumerable failed relationships. From the outset she'd been wary of the unpredictable Dr. Weaver. Listening to Kim raving on in their first few weeks together, she'd pictured Kerry as funny, intelligent, passionate...a far cry from the mousey, sensitive woman she'd met at that disastrous dinner, and different again from the cool, professional doctor of last week. Who was the real Kerry Weaver? And how did she really feel about Kim's return?
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
If Kerry had known that, things would have been a whole lot easier. Currently she was trying not to think about it. Instead, she threw herself into her work, taking endless night shifts and doubles, and generally ensuring the only thing she did at home was sleep. Sandy couldn't help noticing her girlfriend's odd behaviour, but she could only hope it would pass.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
As the week went on, Christy became increasingly concerned about her friend. Since that one time, Dr Weaver's name had never been spoken between them. The subject was closed. Legaspi spent her time brooding silently in the house, or walking restlessly around the city. Christy was no shrink, but she knew this couldn't be healthy.
One afternoon, when Kim was out yet again, Christy was doing the laundry - one thing she could do sitting down. She picked up a pair of Kim's jeans, and on checking the pockets, pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper. In case it was important, she had a quick look, and was extremely surprised to see a note, a phone number no less, from some woman called Rose. Who the hell was Rose? Had Kim called her? Christy got the feeling her friend was hiding something.
In truth there was little to hide. Kim had never called the number, but had met her admirer unexpectedly in Magoos one time. Disheartened by a long day at Christy's bedside, Kim had slipped into the familiar diner for a coffee before she went home. And Rose had walked in as she picked up her drink from the counter.
"Kim, isn't it?"
She turned, irritated, not in the mood for conversation.
But a slightly guilty feeling prodded her to try and be civil.
"Oh, hi - Rose, right?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if I'd see you in here."
"Please, join me."
They sat down in one of the booths, both somewhat embarrassed. Kim felt she had to straighten a few things out.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call. It's just - I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, and I'm not really looking for any more...complications."
"Sure, I understand. I'm not asking anything from you. But if you want to talk..."
She smiled reassuringly.
"Thanks, Rose. Let's just have coffee."
A far more comfortable pause followed.
"How's your friend?" the young physio asked.
"Still the same."
"I'm sorry. It must be awful."
"Yeah."
The two new friends continued to talk quietly until Rose had to go back to work. While Kim was visiting every day, they met for lunch a few times, the psychiatrist very glad of the company. But on Christy's discharge, Rose had thought it best to step back a little. She'd left it entirely up to Kim whether to continue their acquaintance.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
By the time Kim returned later that afternoon, her friend was unbearably curious about this mystery woman . Legaspi flopped down into her favourite chair, enquiring half-heartedly about the other's health.
"I'm fine," Christy replied, "You?"
"I'm okay."
This was so blatantly untrue, Christy felt quite angry at her.
"Right." She muttered sarcastically.
All thoughts of a subtle approach were gone. She just wanted a response from Kim, even a fight would be better than this.
"So who's Rose?"
"Rose?"
At least the other was actually looking at her.
"I found this."
She flourished the note dramatically. Kim glanced at it, then carelessly replied,
"Oh, her."
"Her? Is that all you're going to say?"
"What?"
"God, Kim, I find some woman's number in your pocket, you don't think I start to wonder?"
"It's nothing. I met her in a bar."
"And?"
"And what? We talked. She left that on my car the other week."
"Huh? Is she stalking you or something?"
"Course not. She works at the hospital, she must've seen me in the car park."
"I see."
She didn't really.
"So...did you meet her again?"
"Yes, actually. We had lunch a couple of times."
She caught Christy's knowing look.
"That's it." she said sharply, "We're just friends."
"Okay, okay. So come on, what's she like?"
"Brunette, quite short - she's a physical therapist."
"Is she now..."
If Kim had been paying attention, she would have seen the wheels turning in Christy's mind right then. Someone Kim knew, someone on the spot at County...this Rose could be just what the Doctor ordered.