"There must have been a bit of metal stuck out at an unusual angle or something, I'm not sure, but it seems I found it. But you know, those filing cabinets have been around for ages. I should really be thankful I'm up to date on my tetanus shot!"
"Well, it's nice to see you're taking this with such a good disposition, Ms. Devane. We are going to need to stitch you up, though. It shouldn't take long. Just wait right here, I'll send Darcy in for you in just a moment."
"Thank you," Anna replied as the nurse left her room. She sunk back in her chair and shut her eyes. A filing cabinet? A bloody filing cabinet? she resisted the urge to smirk at the humor of the latter and shook her head. Her mind bubbled with thoughts, but none that she paid much attention to; her focus was on getting her stitches and getting back home. She figured everyone would be home in about an hour; she could make it back without anyone noticing. And if they did beat her back, it wasn't like they had to know where she'd been.
"Ms. Devane," a woman's voice chimed as the door opened. "I hear we've had a little accident."
Anna withheld a grimace. "Indeed, I'm afraid so."
"Well, let's see the arm that lost the fight with the filing cabinet," the nurse said cheerily. Anna gave a reluctant smile. At least the nurse was friendly. She lifted her towel-bound arm toward the nurse, who began to gently position Anna's arm on the table in front of her. Anna averted her eyes, staring at the floor tiles with great intent, when she noticed that the nurse had stopped moving. The woman was peering at Anna's arm with great intent. The friendliness in her eyes had been replaced with blankness, and her pleasantly ringing voice was flat when she finally spoke again.
"I see you've had encounters with this filing cabinet before, Ms. Devane."
Anna felt herself begin to pale. "I beg your pardon?"
"Just look at all these scars. I mean, you'd have to look twice to notice some of them, but there's no denying it from right here." The nurse glared down into Anna's eyes, unblinking. A moment ago, they had been at eye level with one another. Now Anna had to look up into the woman's eyes, she could feel herself shrinking as she was assailed with the woman's words. She gritted her teeth and stared back. Then the woman smiled nonchalantly.
"Not that it matters, dear," the nurse continued. She had picked up the stitching thread and needle, and was poised to begin her work on Anna's wound.
"Wait," Anna began, "aren't you going to use—"
"Anesthetic?" the nurse hissed. Anna's heart was beating rapidly now, a mixture of helplessness and dismay. The woman's stare was stripping her clean. Anna broke eye contact as she felt the needle against her arm pressing harder. Wincing, she opened her mouth, but the nurse cut her off. "What," she whispered. "Don't you like it?" The needle felt acidic, as though it were burning its way through the tender flesh around Anna's wound. She set her teeth, her jaw tensing, tight as the nurse sewed the first stitch. God, Anna, you've dealt with gunshot wounds before, she told herself. Surely a few stitches shouldn't hurt. Physically, she had certainly endured greater pain. The greatest pain, though, was inflicted by the cruelty in the nurse's voice. The only person alive to know the secret Anna was keeping was now condemning her, maybe even hating her for it.
Why is it my secret? Anna found herself pondering, trying to ignore the agony of the needle's slow weave the through her broken flesh. For a moment, she imagined telling David, and tried to imagine his reaction. What would he do? Would he want her committed? Would he yell, would he cry? I wouldn't want to risk hurting him with something like that, she thought. There's no need to. And it was true. It would change things. Just like the nurse had seen her scars and reacted negatively, her family would have to react in some way. Maybe they would be supportive, maybe they wouldn't. Either way, things would never be able to go back to exactly the way they were before. They would never see her in the same way again.
How did Anna's family perceive her? They would probably describe her as strong. Tough but gentle, a survivor. If they knew how much of her survival depended on self-injury, how far would their opinions of her deteriorate? As much as cutting herself had come to define Anna in her own mind, others never saw that, and she didn't want them to. Besides, Anna was happy with her life, she didn't need to go causing trouble where trouble was undue.
How much trouble am I already in now? Anna began to wonder, as she realized she was in the hospital for an injury she inflicted upon herself, but more importantly, for an injury she was beginning to believe was unavoidable. Who was she trying to protect with her secrecy? Her family? Herself? Or maybe some illusion of herself that had gotten lost long ago. Dozens of questions swirled in her mind; none found answers.
"Done," the nurse said.
Anna looked down at her swollen skin, foreign with the haphazard dark stitches scratched across her arm. It stung, and it felt as if her whole arm were throbbing slightly. It was at that moment that Anna gave a helpless smile. The wound was intended to keep her from feeling, and here the experience of getting stitches had forced her to feel. Granted, the pain she now felt stabbing through her arm was physical; what she had been avoiding was much more than that. The nurse caught Anna eying her stitches and her face turned cold.
"Yeah, I hope you're happy," she sneered.
"Look, I'm not proud of this," Anna tried meekly to explain. "And I'm certainly not any happier about it than you are."
"The hell you are. What does your husband think of this little attention-getter of yours?"
"This is not about attention," Anna seethed. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, and her fingers curling into fists. "This is something I do, it does not concern anyone else, especially not you."
Surprised eyes stared into Anna's for a moment. Briefly, Anna saw compassion staring back, but she quickly dismissed it when the woman spoke. "Someone really should tell David about his wife. It would be so easy to just let it slip. Ask him how her stitches are healing. What a shame that would be."
For some reason, this woman was trying to get to her; Anna knew that. Instead of backing down, she took a stepped toward the nurse confidently, so that the only thing they could see was each other. "And wouldn't it be a shame if he knew that a nurse named Darcy refused to follow procedure and administer anesthetic before giving stitches?"
The nurse's tried to stare with defiance at Anna, but glanced away, and moved toward the door. "I hope your stitches heal well, Ms. Devane." She placed her hand on the handle of the door, and did not face Anna as she concluded the conversation before leaving. "Don't bother coming back to have them taken out. I expect that you'll be able to cut them out yourself."
Anna made it back to the Valley Inn just in time. She'd called one of the maids before she'd left for the hospital to clean up the broken glass in the room. When she returned, there was no sign left of her episode from an hour earlier. She rushed to the bathroom, splashed her face with water, and had just settled onto the bed with a book when the door swung open. Robin flew in happily.
"Hi, Mom!" she said, plopping cheerfully on the bed next to Anna.
"Hello, beautiful," Anna smiled. "Did you have a good time with Aiden?"
Robin gushed, "I really did! We had a good conversation, and some really good ice-cream, too. I'm going to end up leaving here with a new list of numbers to see on my phone bill under 'long distance calls.' Oh, my."
Anna laughed, and hugged her daughter. "Well, I'm glad you could make it out here. I might have to join Aiden on his little vacation in France, you know."
"I hope you do," she grinned. With a more serious tone, she added, "you know, Mom, it's really good to see you again. I can't tell you that enough. I mean, I know we talk on the phone all the time, but—"
"But it's different to be right there next to someone. To be able to reach out and actually touch them." Tenderly, Anna wrapped her arms around her daughter, and whispered in her ear, "to hold them."
Robin returned her mother's gesture, embracing her thankfully. "And to be held by them."
Anna smiled into her daughter's shoulder, the two hugging so tightly that Anna could actually hear their hearts beating in unison. The closeness was almost enough to make Anna forget how she'd spent the last few hours, but the pulsing pain in her arm refused to be ignored.