was doing some needlepoint. There was none of the frenzy here that I had seen in the emergency room.
I was rolled down to a doorway and then into the room, which was nicer than any bedroom I had ever had. There was a light maple armoire on the left, a closet on the right,small tables beside the bed, and a television on a metal shelf across from the bed. The room had two large windows that looked toward the Hollywood Hills. The bed was wider than the one down in the ward, and the blanket and pillows looked brand-new. The nurse and the aide gently transferred me. The aide started out with the gurney, and the nurse turned to Mrs. March.
“I’ll get her paperwork to the desk,” she said.
“Thank you,” Mrs. March said.
The nurse left, and Mrs. March stepped up beside the bed and looked at me. “Now, this is better, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I have a private-duty nurse arriving within the hour. Her name is Jackie Knee.” She leaned toward me to whisper. “She’s younger than most of the nurses here, more tuned in to girls your age. She actually worked at a plastic surgeon’s clinic in Brentwood but now freelances on private-duty assignments. I think she makes more money.”
She straightened up and just stared at me for a few moments.
“I’ve arranged for a well-known orthopedist, Dr. Milan, to examine you.”
“Dr. Milan?”
“You know who he is?” she asked with a slight smile.
“He was supposed to fix my leg last night but didn’t come because I have no medical insurance, so Dr. Decker did it.”
“Really? Is that what happened? Well, he’s coming today,” she said firmly. “You can be sure of that.”
“Who’s paying for all this?” I asked.
“I am. Well, I should say my husband and I are.”
“Why?” I asked, expecting her to tell me they were in charge of some charity.
She looked as if she wasn’t going to answer. She turned away, looked out the window a moment, and then turned back to me.
“It was my daughter, Kiera, who hit you and your mother,” she said.
3
Kiera’s Mistake
I didn’t know what to say when Mrs. March told me her daughter had hit Mama and me, so I just watched her as she began to pace back and forth, moving her hands as if she were speaking. I think she was trying to find the right words. Were there right words?
She turned, pressing her lips together. Then she took a deep breath and continued. “She was high on one of her recreational drugs. X they call it.” She paused and turned to me. “Do you know what that is?”
I nodded.
“But you don’t use that stuff, do you?”
“No,” I said, but what difference would that possibly make to her?
“Good. Kiera has been more than a handful for us. She has everything any girl her age could possibly want. My husband, Donald, is one of the most successful builders in Southern California. Half the malls you see are malls he built, and he’s busier than ever. He gives everything he canto our daughter. Kiera has her own car. She’s already been to Europe twice. She has a wardrobe that’s even bigger than my own, not to mention expensive jewelry and watches that would choke an Arabian prince.”
She shook her head. “You would think any girl would be grateful for the life Kiera has, but this is not the first time Kiera’s been in big trouble. Each time, my husband has bailed her out, pulled strings, saved her. The result is that she never learns a lesson. I told him. I warned him something bigger like this would happen, but he didn’t listen, and now he’s already busy saving her again. I told him this time he should let her pay the piper, but he won’t have it. He’s hired a top attorney, but this is not the first time. You can’t even begin to imagine the money we’ve had to spend on attorneys because of her.”
She spoke quickly and excitedly, and her face turned crimson. Then she took a deep breath, looked out the window, and relaxed her shoulders. “Of course, I understand why
C. J. Valles, Alessa James