LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Kristin!” Tom said, “I’m so glad I was still in the hospital.”

      Grayson was tall, probably 6’ 4” if he would stand up straight, but he always seemed to be leaning over slightly, the better to listen. His too long, sandy colored hair was falling over his forehead and his blue eyes met mine with warmth. I’d noticed in the committee meetings that he had very long eyelashes. They were so long they brushed the inside of the lenses of his glasses and he was forever polishing them. I realized with a jolt I’d been aware of him as more than a fellow committee member. I gave myself a mental shake and decided not to go there. I’d also noticed that he almost always looked tired, and now, at midnight, he looked even more so. I felt somewhat guilty keeping him from heading home. But I was oh so glad to see him.

      “Like I told you on the phone, I was mugged this evening and the assailant cut my arm.”

      I gestured toward the tee shirt covered arm with my other hand. It had begun to feel fairly repetitious to keep gesturing to my injury without getting any help for it.

      Grayson leaned forward and lifted the shirt. We both looked down at the blood encrusted, jagged cut. It really looked awful.

      “How long have you been here without someone cleaning this?” Tom asked, real anger in his voice.

      I glanced over his left shoulder to where helmet hair nurse was standing, glaring at me.

      “More than an hour now. I’m sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to get it taken care of.”

      “Nurse.” Grayson’s voice could have cut glass.

      “Get a full set up in here. We need to wash this wound out thoroughly. It looks bad enough that I want to give Professor Ginelli a dose of IV antibiotics.”

      Helmet hair nurse looked a little sick when Grayson called me “Professor.” One thing universities thrive on, it’s hierarchy and I’d just moved up a whole bunch on that ladder.

      Tom turned to the nurse and gave her further instructions in medical-ese. I didn’t even try to sort out what it meant. Now that he was here, I was really fading.

      Tom turned back to me and seemed to see I was a little woozy.

      “Let’s get you lying down here, and warmer.”

      Blankets and pillows were obtained from a locker across the hall. Real blankets. And my head and feet were elevated slightly. Amazing how much better that felt.

      Tom bent over the head of the table and shone a light in my eyes. I guess what he saw was okay.

      “Kristin, I’ll clean this cut out well and then we’ll get it sewed up. I’ll just get this IV started to get some antibiotic into you quickly and then I’ll give you something oral to take home with you. You should be out of here in 30 minutes.

      He turned to the sink and began washing his hands. Helmet hair nurse gave me such an angry look I thought it was quite possible I could be mugged twice in one night.

      Okay. This was better. This was a lot better. I was warm and not in pain. Grayson had given me a shot of something that made me feel kind of floaty. I could feel a kind of tugging on the skin of my arm as he intently sewed his way down the cut. Didn’t matter. Didn’t feel much of anything.

      “I’m sorry to be keeping you up, Dr. Grayson,” I said to the back of his head.

      “Call me Tom and don’t worry about it. Who knows when I’ll need an emergency ‘Plato-ectomy’ and you can return the favor.”

      His eyes never lifted from my arm, but I could see them crinkle a little at the sides of his face.

      A huge jolt of guilt shot through me, so much that I inadvertently jerked my body.

      “Don’t move, Kristin. We’re almost through here.”

      Tom’s calm tone did anything but calm me.

      I was realizing how attracted I was to this man and the sense of disloyalty to Marco was intense.

      ‘Get a grip, Kristin,’ I lectured myself. This has been a very emotional evening. You were almost killed for Christ’s sake. Don’t mistake adrenaline for sexual attraction.

      Yeah. Right.

      I hoped I was more convincing when I lectured students.

      I knew I had been aware of him at the Human Experimentation Committee meetings. As junior faculty I had twice as many committee assignments as my more senior colleagues, but I’d not minded that one. And it wasn’t the interesting discussions of ethics.

      “There.”

      Tom had finished sewing.

      “I’ll just wrap this up for you, take out the IV, and make you a very unattractive sling from gauze that will hold the arm still.”

      He turned and opened a supply cabinet.

      “Is someone waiting to drive you home?”

      “Ah . . . no . . . no. It’s okay. I’ll call a cab.”

      “Well, I can drop you. You live on Rosemont, right? I’m only a few blocks over and one block north. No problem.”

      He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled.

      Yeah. No problem. Right. Except my heart started to race. Oh, well. If I had a heart attack, the ER was a better place than most for that.

      Tom helped me sit up and he expertly wound gauze around my arm and then fashioned a sling.

      “Use this sling to keep the arm elevated. It will swell less and be less painful for you.”

      He handed me several little foil packets and a piece of paper.

      “Here are some samples of the antibiotic that will get you started until someone can fill this prescription for you tomorrow. And here’s something for pain if you need it.”

      More little packets handed over.

      “Otherwise, I won’t need to see you for ten days to two weeks. Just call my office and schedule an appointment. Of course, if there is increased redness and swelling, I’d like to see you right away.”

      He stood aside and took my good arm to help me get off the table. The blankets slid off to reveal my bloody martial arts uniform. I flushed with embarrassment.

      “I knew you’d been a cop, but must you clean up crime in Hyde Park single handedly?”

      Tom chuckled and tucked my good arm under his and headed for the door.

      “Come on, Wonder Woman. It’s been a long day for both of us.”

      I had the immense satisfaction of watching Helmet Hair’s face as I was escorted out of the ER by a surgeon. And I loved the feeling of his tall frame bending solicitously toward me as we walked to his car.

      I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. Then I snapped them open. How did he know where I lived?

      Oh, for Pete’s sake, Kristin. That’s the kind of question you ask in junior high. I closed my eyes again and smiled a little at the memory of middle school gossip and going with boys in cars.

      Good ole pain medication.

      “Are you smiling or grimacing?” Tom broke into my thoughts.

      Tom glanced again at me from the driver’s side.

      “Not a grimace. Not in pain. Thanks for asking.”

      And for the rest? I just needed to get home, get into my own bed and forget this day ever happened.

      5

      Your silence today is a pond where drowned things live

      I want to see raised dripping and brought into the sun.

      Adrienne Rich, “Twenty-One Love Poems,” The Dream

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