Free The Second Heart by K. K. Eaton Page B

said, put out. She returned the
magazine to the little table next to their chairs. She was quiet
for a moment, gazing out the windows at the front of the waiting
room. “Hey, it’s stopped raining.”
    Meredith and Rob both turned to look out. It
had indeed stopped raining, though the sky was still gray and
overcast in the early morning light. They all looked out in
silence, contemplating the weather more seriously than they had
ever done previously in their lives. Was it just a break in the
storm, or did it signify better news?
    “Do you think everyone was freaking out over
nothing?” Meredith asked hopefully. She was beginning to feel a bit
giddy, and thought she might be one of the “chatty types” that the
nurse had mentioned.
    “Well, I’m not sure it’s over nothing,
sweetheart,” Rob said, patting her on the arm and smiling ruefully.
“Our world is changing whether we like it or not.”
    “That’s it, I’m moving to Mars,” Meredith
joked. She giggled at her own humor while Rob chuckled
politely.
    From across the room, a nurse called out
Meredith’s name.
    “Finally,” Meredith said loudly as she stood
up. One of the other waiting patients looked up at her curiously.
“I’m here for a boob job, how ‘bout you?” She laughed at her own
joke again and threaded her way through the rows of chairs to where
the nurse was standing. Amelia and Rob exchanged an embarrassed
look and followed close behind, smiling apologetically at the other
patient as they walked past.
    The nurse asked Meredith a bunch of questions
about her medical history, weighed her, and took her blood
pressure. Then Meredith was led to a curtained area with a bed and
a chair, surrounded by numerous machines. There was a hospital gown
folded up on the foot of the bed, along with a thin white
blanket.
    The nurse handed her a clear plastic bag that
had the words “Personal Belongings” printed on the side. “Go ahead
and get undressed and put all your stuff in here. The doctor will
be in to see you shortly.”
    Amelia and Rob waited outside the curtained
area while Meredith changed. After she was settled on the bed with
the blanket draped over her lower half for modesty, Meredith called
them in. Amelia sat in the chair while Rob leaned against the foot
of the bed.
    The nurse who had given Meredith the
morphine, Eleanor, pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the
makeshift room. “Did the morphine help? You feeling better?”
    Meredith smiled broadly. “I’m feeling
great.”
    “I can see that,” Eleanor said without a
smile. “Why don’t you tell me some more about why you’re here this
morning?”
    “Well, I had a stomach ache all day
yesterday, and then this morning it started cramping really bad,”
Meredith described. It seemed that the morphine had also robbed her
of her advanced vocabulary skills, which she found amusing. She
chuckled softly to herself.
    “Okay, so on a scale of one to ten, how would
you rate the pain you felt?”
    “Well that’s a toughie. Assuming ten is ‘my
face is on fire’, and one is ‘I have to burp’, I’m going to say an
eight. Maybe a seven? No, an eight. Definitely an eight. Am I being
graded on this?”
    Eleanor didn’t respond, simply writing the
number down on Meredith’s chart. Still looking at the clipboard,
she asked, “How would you rate your pain now?”
    Meredith rested a hand on her chin and looked
toward the ceiling. “Um, I would say a three, which is way better than an eight. So, thank you for the drugs. Seriously. Not
that I’m a drug-seeker, ‘cause I’m not. But I feel better, so
thanks.”
    Amelia and Rob looked aghast at their
seemingly drunk daughter. Taking in their concerned expressions,
Eleanor said, “This is a normal reaction to morphine, so just enjoy
it and take lots of video.” She smiled for the first time, and the
expression seemed unnatural on her broad face.
    Meredith’s parents chuckled and relaxed
visibly.
    Turning back to Meredith, Eleanor