Chapter 42

word count 1527

Hearing Adam's tiny voice startled Buzz. His arms went flying out in surprise, and Trudy simply went flying, landing on the floor.

"OOOOW! What the fu...! Oh, hi, boys!" she said. It all happened at once. Her eyes went wide like saucers, and her hands zoomed into the task of stuffing sizable breasts back into delicate cups of black lace. "I thought I told ya...umph!...to wait until I came to get you."

"Yeah, what she said there!" Buzz added, while watching Trudy's precious parts being pushed and shoved. His expression was half worried and half happy at alternating moments.

"What are you doing, Mom?" Elliot asked. He took few steps closer.

"Get back there! Do you kids ever listen to instructions? Now get out of here until I come for ya!"

"She gets kind of crabby at times," Elliot murmured to his friend as they turned to leave.

Once the kids were out of earshot, Trudy let out a long sigh of relief. "Holy shit! I don't want to have to teach him about the birds or bees for quite a few years yet."

“Yeah,” Buzz replied. “I'm not looking forward to that talk either. I do have to have a talk with Adam though.”

“What do you mean?” The question was off-handed, as Trudy busied herself with a long string of buttons on her top.

“I have to tell him his mother has cancer.”

“WHAT? What the hell do ya mean?” Damn, she thought. That bitch must be really working it, telling him she's sick so he feels guilty about our affair, just like I thought.

“She never even told me she was sick. Hank broke the news to me.”

“Who's Hank? Is that the guy I saw leaving as I came in?” The fool must be in on it with her.

“Yes, that's him. He was giving her a ride to the hospital for treatment. But then this morning, she collapsed when she got there. She's in ICU right now. I can't even call her.”

“The hospital? ICU? Are ya sure? Have you been to see her?”

“No, as you can see, I'm not in much condition to be getting around these days!”

“Yeah, right!” He hasn't seen her! The two of them, Hank and Jeannie, could be pulling one over on Buzz, just telling him she's in the hospital when she's not. Trudy tucked in her blouse.

“Don't you worry, hon! I'll go visit her for you!” she said. We'll see about this, she thought.

“Would you? Aside from the fact I'm crippled right now, I'm just not feeling well. I don't know what's going on with me lately. I never feel good, my stomach.”

“Oh my poor baby! Now you rest yourself and don't worry! I'll take care of everything!” Trudy picked up her purse and headed for the door. “I'll find out exactly what's going on. Yes, I will.”

“Thanks, send Adam up as you go, will you?”

When Adam appeared in the doorway, Buzz felt his blood run cold. He wasn't used to talking with the boy, at least not about things like this...personal things...emotional issues. He was okay pitching baseballs and talking home run averages with the kid, or taking him to a football game. But how do you tell a little boy his mom is gravely ill. The kid will be devastated. Oh my gosh, he thought, what if he cries or something?

Suddenly, it hit Buzz. He himself had not shed a tear since Hank told him about Jeannie's illness. Sure, he was shook up when he heard the news, but he had taken charge of the situation and not looked back. In fact, when Trudy showed up, he had no trouble grabbing at her, loving her up. No guilt or second thoughts, even though his wife was in the hospital. Well, he was a man, and he acted exactly like a man should. You gotta be strong, keep moving in the face of diversity. Or was he simply an animal with no soul?

“Dad, you wanted me?” The boy looked away as if he didn't want to be there.

“Oh Adam, get in here. Sit on the bed next to me. We have to talk.”

Buzz's heart pounded and his hands sweat. He didn't know how to do this. He looked at the boy. The kid returned his gaze while sticking a last bit of nutty bar in his mouth, crunching. His eyes were wide and innocent.

“You know what? I don't feel well. I'm going to call your “Uncle Hank” and have him talk to you about what I wanted. I need to lie down.”

**

When Trudy slipped through the hospital doors, all eyes looked her way. She'd dropped off Elliot at the house, then changed into her sexiest tee, the one that dipped low in the front and showed her boobs. Then she fought for 15 minutes to pull on her skinny jeans, the ones she only wore when she wanted to really knock some guy dead. Next her red stilettos. She spiked up her hair, spread on her nighttime ruby lipstick, the more vibrant luminescent red, and chose her darkest, sultriest eye make up. All this, to make sure if that witch was really in this hospital, she'd see Trudy in all her good looks and know this love goddess was bound to get to her man.

She hadn't really believed Jeannie was in the hospital, but when she called admissions, they checked and assured her the lady was in ICU. So there was no other choice but to come in and see for herself. Frankly, she still didn't believe it.

In any event, when she walked through the Main Entrance, all heads turned. Her red lips and spiked hair, along with a “model's” walk, legs forward, shoulders back, like on a runway and in red stilettos, was not something a spectator could miss. To be truthful, the contents of her paisley flask helped put a wobble in her step, not to be missed.

“Which way to the ICU, hon?” she asked at the desk.

“Just follow those rather big signs.” The receptionist dragged the words out as if they had special meaning. She gazed above the frames of her thick, dark glasses and pointed with a pencil toward the elevators. Large 2 x 4 signs and a hospital map were all prominently displayed.

“Oh, I see.” Trudy wobbled that way. “ICU ground floor”...”Well, that's easy.”

Stepping out of the elevator one floor down, she found herself in front of double doors labeled ICU. “Oh good,” she murmured and burst through. “Here we go!”

The first sounds coming her way were the ubiquitous beep beeps of monitors. Like an orchestra laid out to play, countless computers were scattered about all over the large cluttered space with hieroglyphics on the screen to match the beeping noises. It was one huge room with cubicles lined up along one wall and a large nurses station in front of them. Bright lights and medicinal odors assaulted Trudy's senses.

“Wow! This is like 'real hospital' stuff they got going here,” she murmured. Undaunted, she charged to the desk. A busy nurse held up one finger to signal she should wait. The lady finished a conversation on the phone, then turned to face Trudy.

“Can I help you?”

“I'd like to see Jeannie Miller.”

The nurse paused to study Trudy. Her eyes traveled from the spiked hair down past the risqué tee shirt to meet with Trudy's manicured black nails resting on the desk. “Are you family?”

“Why?”

“We generally only permit family in to visit.” The nurse turned when the phone rang again, her attention divided. “One moment, please.”

While the nurse answered the call, Trudy thought it through. Shoot, she thought, I didn't come all the way down here to be turned away. I could tell them Buzz sent me, but that won't work.

“Are you family?” The nurse had returned.

“Yes, yes, I am! I'm her cousin, her very close cousin.”

The nurse arched one eyebrow and considered. The phone rang again; she reached for it. “She's in bed 1A over there. First cubicle.”

Trudy made her way in hesitant steps. Such a mysterious place with curtains that raced around on wheels to shield patients, one after the other, always on the move. The monitors beeping caught her attention again. This place is creepy, she thought. Like a haunted house with all the drapes and strange stuff.

As she neared cubicle 1A, she slowed even more. A curtain blocked her view, and the only way to see beyond it was to skirt around the obstruction and walk straight into the unknown. She moved in fast, around the fabric, and peeked in.

There was a pale white woman, with machines attached to her, tubes, needles, monitors, beeps beeps and whooshing sounds. For all intents and purposes, machinery played the dominant role while the tiny lady in bed lay at its mercy. It was like the woman was being run by the machines.

“Holy crap! This is not what I expected,” Trudy said.