Long Distance Lover. Donna Hill

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter 8

      Dr. Alex Hutchinson strolled casually down the corridor of New York University Hospital, while studying the chart he held in his hand.

      Kelly Maxwell. 29. Track star… He reviewed the details of her injury and his gut instinct and years of experience told him only a miracle would have her running again, at least competitively.

       “Dr. Hutchinson, good morning,” said Ruby Rivers, his assistant, falling in step next to him.

       Ruby had been assigned to him since he started at NYU six years earlier. She was bright, hardworking and totally no-nonsense. Over the years they’d grown from working companions to best friends. Ruby was the older sister he never had. Alex relied on Ruby’s mother wit and sense of humor on more days than he could count. He knew she was probably near fifty but she didn’t look a day over thirty.

       “Aren’t we being formal today,” Alex commented, flipping the page on the chart.

       “Have to keep up appearances, Hutch. Wouldn’t want the staff to think that you were actually nice enough to have friends.” She winked. “So who do we have today?”

       “Kelly Maxwell.”

       “The Kelly Maxwell—the track star?”

       “One and the same.”

       Ruby took the chart from Alex. Her dark brown eyes quickly scanned the pages.

       “Hmm. Serious injury.” She looked up at Alex, then handed back the chart.

       “You don’t usually see this kind of injury in someone her age and what I would assume to be in good health.”

       “My thought, too.”

       “We’ll take a look and map out a plan like always.” He glanced down at her and smiled. “Miracles happen every day.”

       “If anyone down here on earth can pull off a miracle, it’s you.”

       “Flattery like that will get you a free lunch.”

       “That’s what I was batting for.”

       “How well I know you, Ms. Ruby.”

       Kelly came to a halt in front of the hospital doors. “There’s going to be forms to fill out.” Her full features were pinched tight.

       David put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

       “Are you sure?”

       “Stop worrying. Just get better.” He kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get you inside, we’re causing a traffic jam standing here like this.”

       “We’re here to see a Dr. Hutchinson,” David said to the nurse at the circular reception desk.

       “Name?”

       “Kelly Maxwell,” David said.

       The nurse typed in the information in the computer, then took a set of forms and attached them to a clipboard. “Ms. Maxwell will need to complete these. As soon as she’s done I’ll send her in. What kind of insurance does she have?”

       David gave her the name of the insurance carrier, and then took the clipboard. He joined Kelly on the bench.

       “Here, you need to fill these out.”

       Panic lit her eyes like fireflies in a night sky.

       He sat beside her. “Fill in your name on the first line and check ‘no’ for all of the questions,” he instructed in a low voice.

       She pressed her lips together in concentration, forming one letter after the other. Today was worse than usual. Stress.

       After what seemed more like hours than minutes, Kelly put the pen down and handed the papers to David.

       He smiled. “You did good,” he whispered. “I’ll give this to the nurse and be right back.”

       Kelly watched David walk away then engage in lively conversation with the nurse. She twisted her hands in her lap. Perspiration began to dot her forehead. She wanted to run but she couldn’t. The contents of her stomach rose to her throat. She felt ill, always did at times like this—especially over the last two years when the stress and pressure of competition had escalated.

       It began with the feeling of panic, as if the walls were closing in on her, followed by waves of nausea that would only subside after ingesting large amounts of food, only for her to purge it all. It was a vicious, ugly cycle that had become a part of her life. A part that she kept hidden from everyone, even David. Sometimes panic wasn’t even the catalyst to set her off. It could be anything, anything that made her remember the young girl she’d once been. Run, Kelly, run. Jeering laughter. She ran faster, as fast as she could to get away from her tormentors—the girls and the boys who reveled in her misery.

       One day she swore she’d run so far and so fast they’d never be able to catch her. But for now she just needed to get away. Run, Kelly, run.

       “Are you okay?” David placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

       Her head snapped up. Her eyes darted left then right. This wasn’t Mississippi. She wasn’t running through the fields, through the swamps. There was no one after her. She’d outrun them all.

       Her heartbeat gradually slowed to its normal rhythm.

       “Yeah, fine. Just daydreaming, I guess. Um, would you mind getting me a cup of water?”

       “Sure.”

       David walked the few feet toward the vending machine, stepping around a young man with a prosthetic leg who was slowly limping past him. Accident or casualty of war? He didn’t know. Either way it was a damned shame. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty. Sadder still were all the others who half walked, wheeled or hopped along in various stages of rehabilitation. The waiting area vibrated with the sounds of metal wheels clanging across the linoleum floors or the squeak of rubber-tipped crutches finding traction.

       He dropped four quarters into the machine. A bag of corn chips dropped into the tray. He snorted at the irony. Life was all about the luck of the draw, getting the right combination, and praying that when you dropped your coins in the slot of life you got what СКАЧАТЬ