Bad Habits Part 69

"No, Kim, it's not okay." Keith clenched his teeth.

"Hey, if you two are having problems then-"

"No problem. She's confused. She's always confused. But that seems to be an inherited trait."

Kim narrowed her eyes on him. From behind her came the gentle push of the door, announcing the arrival of another patient and visitor. They took to the corner, further to her left. She released an even breath to remain in control. But it was hard. The trade off for sobriety meant she agitated easily. "Listen, Keith, I don't know what you think you plan to gain by coming here, but I stand behind my sister."

"Ah, that's right. The Wilson women stick together."

"Say what you mean."

"I want my wife," Keith said. He sat back in his chair and ran his hand down his tie to smooth it out. "Since your drug habit kicked off, she's been in full rescue mode. Even at the expense of our marriage. Diane, I get. She was a drunk before either of you were conceived. Now look at you-"

"You are so full of s.h.i.t," Kim chuckled. "Don't insult my mother or me to compensate for your short comings. You're a mama's boy that still can't find his way out of his daddy's shadow. You don't know a d.a.m.n thing about any of us. You never sullied yourself with the details. Oh, and if Simone decided to leave you, good for her. G.o.d knows she may be a saint, but she isn't insane. In fact, you know that don't you? That she's strong, beautiful, and too d.a.m.n forgiving. Even after you broke her heart by cheating on her, you couldn't break her. And now she sees you, and she doesn't like what she sees. Right, Keith? She's finally had enough." Kim crossed her arms and smiled brightly. "Actually, this is really good news. Great news. Thank you for coming."

"You think so?" Keith's left brow winged upward.

"Definitely. Especially if it brought you to your knees and forced you to drive all the way up here to beg for my help. Simone and I are going to have a big laugh over this one." Kim uncrossed her arms. She leaned in so she could look him in the eye when she spoke. "Like I said, your coming here was a waste of your oh-so-precious-time. I have no intention of helping you."

The corner of Keith's mouth twitched. He sat still for a pause, and then he, too, leaned forward. Each word he spoke was carefully placed. "I think you will. After all, look at how much everyone, especially me, has helped you."

"This visit is over." Kim scooted her chair back from the table and rose.

"Sit down!" he commanded. "If you want to keep your kids and your life as you knew it, you will sit your a.s.s down."

She did, seething.

Keith nodded. "Good girl. You are the smart one. Another thing that I hadn't forgotten is how easily trained the Wilson sisters were."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Keith smirked. "I know all about your 'bad habits'. Like mother, like daughter."

"f.u.c.k you!"

"No thanks," Keith spat. His eyes did a sweep of the place and that hateful smugness returned when they leveled on Kim once more. "You broke the law. Do you understand what that means? Because I do, Kim. I understand that you aren't fit to be a nurse or a mother. Thanks to your addiction, those boys could be tossed in the system like their father was. Ironic, isn't it?"

"You listen to me!" Kim slammed her hand down on the table. The smack echoed loudly through the room. The others in the corner looked over. She pointed a finger into Keith's face. "Don't you ever, ever threaten my family or my babies!"

"YOU. BROKE. THE. LAW," he repeated.

"I don't give a s.h.i.t!" Kim shouted back. Two staffers happening by the visitors lounge entered. One called her name. She rose, but not to the call of her name. After the daily fights she waged just to be strong and sober, he was a threat she wouldn't shy away from.

"I know your game, slick," Kim yelled. "You think by threatening me and my family that you can control us like you've done to my sister. Well it's not going to work! When I get home-"

"Our home?" Keith whispered back. "You have nothing without me."

"Is everything okay, Kimberly?" the one named Chloe asked.

"What the h.e.l.l? Are you f.u.c.king crazy?" She dropped forward, her hands pressed flat to the surface of the table. "That's what it is, right? Smelling yourself for so long has driven you mad."

Keith just smiled. His voice never raised an octave above a whisper, but she heard every word. Each word sliced through her heart, and fileted her to the bone. "Don't remember, Kim? Let me help you out. You were probably too high to recall. But ask your sister. She can confirm it. You needed to refinance. Your credit was s.h.i.t. Poor Kim. You signed that shack Dennis slaved for over to me. I paid off the mortgage on it a year ago. You've been making payments to an escrow account that I own. I can't believe you were so f.u.c.king high you never even opened a mortgage statement? How is this news to you?"

"I-I-I?" Kim racked her brain. Her mortgage payments went straight through her bill pay accounts. She never checked a statement. h.e.l.l, she was late often times. But out of all the bill collectors calling her, bank loan was never one of them.

"Kim, sit down or we will have to end this visit." Chloe touched her shoulder. She had no idea that Chloe was so close. In that moment, the only person she recognized in the room was the monster before her. "Kim, did you hear me?"

She shrugged off the staffer's touch. Mentally, she rewound back to how accommodating Keith was. His attorney and fraternity brother, Madison, knew a broker at her bank and they shuffled her through the refinancing with paperwork she never blinked at. Keith was the first one there to suggest she refinance to alleviate the stress of the mounting debt. The two of them double and triple talked with a mountain of papers for her to sign while she was grieving her husband, barely able to care for twins! He was also the lawyer that took on Dennis's wrongful death suit against the city. She felt sick, stupid, raped. She couldn't find enough beyond her rage to breathe.

Keith nodded with satisfaction. "You tell Simone to drop the protection order. I want to see her, and see her soon, alone. If you don't, I'll make a few calls that'll have those brats in the system before you can reach for your next pill bottle. Then I'm moving in with you both, to our house."

Wounded. Darkness filled her to the brim. Kim stilled with so much anger, pain, and humiliation over what she'd done to her children. How she failed her husband. How badly she needed her Mathew. It was too much, so she broke, "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Slimy f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Kim screamed as she lunged for Keith. The attack of slapping hands delivered by her caught him off guard. They both went down, with Keith taking the brunt of the crash. Kim was on top, slapping and scratching like a madwoman.

Maurice lifted her off a stunned Keith as she kicked him in the privates. Others rushed in. A flurry of confusion ensued while she was dragged out with Keith claiming to have been a.s.saulted-shouting he intended to press charges. He demanded to speak to the head of the facility, prompting the staff to apologize profusely. All of this she saw through her tears and pain. His threats took root. Her house, her kids, all of it was in jeopardy. And no matter how much she hated Keith Livingston, she had only herself to blame.

"Is that all?" Mathew asked. His tone was dry as the noonday heat teaming beyond the office window. When there was no answer, he cast a look back over his shoulder to the one who continued to scan the doc.u.ments that held his fate.

"There's more." Heath Anders began, "For starters, this nurse." Heath flipped over to the next stapled page. "Kimberly Jensen, you keep saying she's irrelevant but she isn't. Is she?"

"Leave her out of it."

Heath, his childhood friend turned legal eagle, removed his spectacles and fixed him with a hard look. "Giving it to you straight, Matt. She's already in it. And if-"

Mathew waved him off. "Don't say it."

"Someone has to. If you think we can just brush this off, you're wrong. Your career's on the line. This is far worse than malpractice. The ethics board isn't convening to slap your hand. They want to make an example of you. Many of them think you got off easily with the Davenport incident. And now you show up with the same charges leveled at you from another hospital?"

"Fine. Then I'll answer to them, but I won't drag Kim into it. I won't. Are we done?" Mathew asked.

"Well, no. I received a letter from a Dr. Murphy. Oddest d.a.m.n thing."

"Why? She's the one reporting me to the MRB. She trashed me plenty I'm sure."

"Actually it's an appeal to the board for leniency. She says, and I quote: Dr. Mathew Donnelly is one of the most skilled, committed, well-trained surgeons I've had the pleasure to work with. Dr. Donnelly effectively managed a triage incident that saved many lives. Then she goes on to give examples of some freeway car pileup and your patient cases. I have to ask, were you sleeping with her too?"

Mathew chuckled. "No."

"You think this is funny? This is serious! And this Dr. Patel character claims you falsely accused him of s.e.xual hara.s.sment? That sure as h.e.l.l doesn't sound funny. Then he counters that it was you that was hara.s.sing nurses. Oh, and speaking of the nurses. All of them just love you. Most are on record about your bedside manner. Do you know what all of them agree on. Every single one? Shall I tell you?"

"No need," Mathew mumbled.

"Kimberly Jensen. She's at the root of all of it!"

Mathew turned from the window. "What you see is what there was. I went to Mercy, got immersed in the hospital politics, tried to expose a bad doctor for who he was. My ethics are the same, always. I care about my patients, my colleagues, and medicine. That's my case."

Heath shook his head.

"It took a miracle to pull you out of the s.h.i.t you were buried in thanks to Sheila. A miracle worker is not what I am. I'm a realist. Mercy Hospital was your second chance. In less than a year we're back here with the same charges."

"Not the same," Mathew objected.

"The same! A woman. A nurse that you were romantically involved with nearly died on your watch? Don't deny it."

"I'm not. I don't owe you or them any explanation about her."

Heath crossed his arms, "Really? Collins is sitting in." Heath waited a pause for the news to take root. "That's right. He's circling again because he smells your blood. The board doesn't give a s.h.i.t about your superman complex. I have to be honest, Matt. He might just get what he wants this time."

"Collins doesn't scare me."

"Well he scares me," Heath sighed. "That's why you need to be honest. If this Kimberly Jensen can help, then let's bring her in."

"Not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Not going to happen. That is it. I'll do whatever you want, but that. Find me a way to get out of this and I swear to you I'll go into private practice and leave the hospital drama for the TV actors." Mathew wiggled his brows.

Heath laughed. "f.u.c.k, I'm no miracle worker, but I am a crazy a.s.s country boy that likes a good fight. Let me go through it again. We'll see what we can do."

"Deal." Mathew saluted him. Satisfied, he headed for the door.

"Matt?"

He looked back.

"Was she worth it? Kimberly Jensen."

Mathew stroked his chin. His eyes focused on the image of her he could still conjure of her face, the smiles and giggles of her sons. h.e.l.l, he could recall her scent if he tried hard enough. He looked to his friend and gave a slight nod. "d.a.m.n worth it."

Leaving Heath's office, he felt solid again. Not that his chances for recovering his life had improved. But it wasn't hopeless. There was always hope. He was back on track, focused, taking measures to join the living. He nodded at a few that he knew and a few he didn't before stepping out of the munic.i.p.al building. His friend, Heath, worked in criminal law. But in a small town, a lawyer was a lawyer and everyone did a little bit of everything.

Deciding on a walk, Mathew headed away from his parked truck. He was in Summerville. Twenty-four miles just outside of Charleston, Summerville was a unique oasis of long branched magnolia trees with full blooms in the midst of swaying palms and wild cypress. Quiet, reserved, old south, located so close to the ocean, you could smell the sea. A walk through downtown Summerville along the cobbled sidewalks in the shade brought on the feeling of home. He pa.s.sed open doors of unique boutiques, cafes, and antique shops with no destination in mind.

The stroll helped ease his worry.

For Mathew, no matter how slowly time ticked by, he continued to worry, mainly over one person, his Kimberly. Her sister said she would see to her, and take care of the twins. He didn't doubt it, yet still his heart wouldn't let go of the worry. The words between them when he last saw her haunted him still. Did she think he abandoned her? Did she know how much he loved her? Did she care? Walking away was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but staying away was beating him down with regret and feelings he had no control over.

"Nice day isn't it?"

Mathew stopped.

A small portly woman with a dress covered in daisies smiled. In her early sixties, she fanned herself outside of an open store door. This was something he truly missed in New York, the welcoming spirit of strangers.

"Yeah, it is a nice day," he answered, looking beyond her. Inside were racks of dolls, trucks, and toys for every age. His gaze lifted to the sign above her: Annie's Toy Chest.

"Got any younguns?"

"No ma'am, not as of yet."

"Aww what a pity. Can't tempt ya then, now can I?" she smiled.

"Got plenty of nieces and nephews," he winked.

"Then come on in!" she exclaimed. Her laughter caused her second chin to jiggle like her round belly. She was chubby all over with the kindest pair of green eyes. Mathew checked the time. He had nowhere to be or no one waiting to be with him. He followed her into the somewhat muggy heat of the storeroom.

"Sorry, the A/C is on the fritz again. My son Jason is in the back beating on the thing. I got the fans going though."

She did. Rotating white plastic blades sent waves of recycled hot air toward any new customer that walked in. Mathew wiped the sheen of perspiration over his brow. The toys in the store mostly looked handmade. A fresh smell of paint and sawdust indicated some of the shelves were new. His nieces and nephews would empty his pockets in a place like this.

And then he heard a horn.

His eyes sought the source. A toy train tooted as it chugged along a track tacked down to a shelf nearly ceiling high. The train made another toot of its horn and kept along its route.

"See here? Every little girl wants her. She cries and pees," the old woman said, holding up a packaged doll with golden ringlets.

"How about the train?" he asked instead.

The woman looked up at the pa.s.sing train and smiled. "Well that there is the last one. I just let her run because she's a beauty. They don't make many more like her."

"That's a shame. I know two little boys that would really appreciate her."

"Do you now?"

Mathew sighed. "Well thanks um-"

"Millie."

"Millie, thanks but I guess I'll be going. Save the shopping for Christmas." He gave her a curt nod.

"Wait! You say you know little boys that like trains?"

He paused.

"Let me see here. I got something even betta!" She hurried around the counter, setting the doll that cries and pees on the gla.s.s countertop. She reached beneath the register and pulled out a thick catalogue, her chubby fingers flipping quickly through the thin pages. Curious, he stepped over.

"Here! This here. Now this is every little boy's dream!"

He looked down at the model train set.

"It'll require a.s.sembling, but it's the best of its kind," she beamed.

Millie was right. This one had a track that circled a small town that looked somewhat like Summerville. He hadn't seen one like it since Fred's Drug Store closed when he was sixteen. It was actually something he wanted so bad he collected Nehi soda bottles for six months straight. A dime a bottle is all he earned. He had filled the back shed with them, cashed them in and turned a profit of forty dollars. He was close to getting that prize when his older brother needed cleats for school. He knew his mother couldn't afford them. They all did. Mathew did what the others did and chipped in his precious savings. The train set was a delayed dream.

"Wow, I didn't know they still made them."

"You can fix it up for them," she grinned.