For a minute, Monica thought of defending herself, her actions. Then she realized who she was talking to. She might not owe John an explanation, but she didn’t want to flaunt her behavior either. Especially since her lapse of judgment nearly got her killed and the guy involved didn’t stick around for a proper good-bye.
Maybe it was karma for the Ice Queen, a taste of her own medicine.
“It was hell on that island. I hardly ate, barely slept. When all this is hashed out it’s Pat that’s going to look like the witch she is.” Monica finished her beer.
John placed his hand over hers.
Monica slipped away. “John?”
“No. We said nothing more than work shit.”
She smiled and sat back for a moment.
“But I’m damn happy you didn’t die, Monica.”
She laughed at that. “Me, too.”
For a few more minutes, they talked about the hospital, about some of the gossip she’d missed while away. When she left, Monica felt a little less like an Ice Queen.
Monica shot out of bed in a cold sweat screaming Trent’s name. The panic didn’t start to fade until she turned on her bedside lamp and filled her room with light. As the terror of being back in the cave was still fresh in her mind from the part dream, part memory faded, the pain in her leg brought her back to reality in a flash.
Under the stiff, unrelenting cast, her leg cramped. A charley horse of monstrous proportions gripped her and didn’t let go. Tears instantly appeared. She jumped out of bed and tried to walk off the cramp but with the inability to flex her foot, the pain didn’t stop. In her bathroom, she fumbled with the bottle of muscle relaxers and swallowed one without the aid of water.
Everyone complained about the itchy and smelly part of having a cast restricting one’s movement. She’d take the itchy and smelly over the crampy every day of the week. Lighting her way into her kitchen, Monica found a banana and ate it. She knew the potassium would help ward off more cramps, but probably wouldn’t make this one go away any faster.
She leaned against the counter and forced the banana down. She considered the peel, the color… and thought of the bananas Trent had cut from the tree right before they descended to the beach and hidden cave.
“How can I miss someone I barely know?”
She did. She missed talking to him, seeing him… smelling him. Even in the dark he’d whisper in her ear and chase away the shadows.
Monica swiped away the tear on her cheek and realized the pain in her leg had eased.
The pain in her chest, however, grew.
Once the peel was in the trash, she moved into the living room. It might have been three in the morning, but that didn’t mean she had to sleep. Besides, ever since she returned, sleeping at night became more difficult. Maybe when her job was reinstated she’d ask for the graveyard shift. Then at least she could sleep during the day, where her room was never really black. She could roll over, peek through half-opened eyelids, and know she was safe.
She turned on her computer and opened her e-mail. A few online bills came through reminding her that her savings was dwindling. She’d accumulated some sick time, but the last of those checks had come the previous week.
Now that the medical bills were accumulating, her bank account had a hard squeeze around its neck.
She turned on Pandora radio and listened to her private station while perusing the inbox. She clicked on an e-mail from the Board of Registered Nurses. She assumed it was some kind of spam, some notice of pending changes within the organization.
Instead, she was faced with a direct e-mail to her.
Dear Monica Mann RN,
It has come to the attention of the Board of Registered Nurses that pending litigation and grievances have been filed against Monica Mann RN. Temporary suspension of Miss Mann’s license is in effect immediately.
Monica’s vision blurred. She kept reading, and at the same time found herself hyperventilating. The letter went beyond an internal issue between her and the hospital for unsubstantiated reasons for her termination. This letter accused her of acting outside her license and endangering the lives of patients. It took Monica three times reading the letter to recognize the name Shandee Curtina. Curtina meant nothing to her, but Shandee?
Nausea rose in her throat. How could this be happening?
All her life Monica only wanted to be independent. Helping people and finding fulfillment from it was a by-product of the profession she chose.
Fighting for her job at the hospital was one thing… this was entirely different. If she wasn’t a nurse, what was she? Who was she?
She needed help. She reached for the phone and realized the time. Up until that moment Monica had been willing to step back a little and let the wheels of the hospital investigation take place. Let the union hold court. Not anymore.
This was not happening.
Three hours later, Monica was on the phone with Jessie relaying all the shitty details. “I’d never ask if I thought I could do this on my own,” she told her sister. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t be stupid, Mo. What they’re doing to you is wrong on a colossal level. How the hell will Borderless Nurses or Doctors ever recruit anyone to help if they get away with this?”
The anger in Jessie’s voice matched that boiling in Monica’s blood. “I know Jack and Gaylord have a team of lawyers.”
“Say no more.”
“I think I’m going to need character witnesses from the island. Shandee wasn’t happy with me at first, but I can’t believe she’d throw me under the bus.” Her name was on the actual complaint, so obviously Monica wasn’t a good judge of character.