hour ago.”
“The cultures just came back from the lab. The infection is worse than we thought and has spread to one or both of her kidneys.” Lindsey holds up a hand before I can ask any questions. “The doctor ordered stronger antibiotics and an ultrasound of her upper and lower tract.”
That doesn’t sound good, and a familiar knot of anxiety replaces any optimism I woke up with.
* * *
I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked back into Mother’s hospital room, but it wasn’t a cannula in her nostrils or another bag hooked to her IV machine. Her eyes are closed, and her dark hair starkly contrasts with her pale cheeks and white sheets. She looks smaller, older, and more fragile than when I left her last night. My heart sinks, and I grab onto the raised bed rail. “Mom.” I watch her chest move up and down as her vital signs scroll across a monitor. “Mom.”
Her eyes flutter open, cloudy and unfocused.
“Mom. It’s me. Lou Ann.”
She blinks a few times, and her eyes focus on me. I take that as a good sign. The cloudiness is probably because of her high temperature. Lindsey is looking at Mom’s chart at the nurses’ station down the hall. I’ll ask her about it when she comes to the room.
“Where did you go?” Her voice is scratchy.
I reach for a cup of watery crushed ice. “I went home for a few hours.”
“I need you to get me out of here.”
She opens her mouth, and I spoon-feed her a little ice. “I will when you’re a bit better.”
“I’m fine.”
I give her more ice. “Have you watched any of your shows?” I ask to distract her.
“I don’t have a remote.”
“It’s right here.” I show her the combo remote control and speaker hooked to her bed rail. “Do you want me to find you something?”
“No.” She studies it intently, like she’s trying to figure out how it works. “Don’t turn it on.” She might look worse than she did last night, but she is making a heck of a lot more sense. She pushes the minus sound button, then gazes up at me. “Get me out of here.”
“Let’s wait to hear from your doctor first.”
“He’s in on it. They’re all in on it.”
“What?” Confused, I put the ice on a bedside tray.
“Wynonna’s doing their dirty work.”
I blow out a deflated breath. I don’t ask what “dirty work” means because I don’t want to know what Wynonna is stealing now.
“That bitch is stealing my underwear.”
My head snaps back. Bitch? Forget that she doesn’t have underwear anywhere near this hospital; my mother said “bitch.” No way that just happened. No way I heard that right.
“I saw her give my black lacys to that other bitch with the red hair.”
Again? The woman in bed looks like my mom. Her voice sounds like my mom’s, but I’ve never heard a curse word pass my mom’s lips. Not once, let alone twice in the same conversation.
Lindsey comes in and tosses her tote bag on a chair. “How ya doing, Patricia?”
“Who are you?”
Lindsey doesn’t seem fazed that Mom doesn’t recognize her, but it reminds me of the first night at Sutton Hall and scares me shitless.
“I’m your good friend Lindsey.” She takes Mom’s hand and smiles.
Mom yanks her hand away. “You’re in on it with the rest of them.”
“I’m here to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“You’re huge! Huge people are sneaky bastards.”
I glance at Lindsey out of the corner of my eye. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was forewarned before I came in.” She puts her hands on the bed rail. “Patricia isn’t quite herself yet.”
“You’re sneaky like that bitch Wynonna!”
Lindsey lifts a brow and groans. Now I’m really scared. The last thing we need is for Lindsey to be the new Wynonna. “It’s Lindsey. Remember?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory!” she yells. “You’re in on it with the sneaky people.”
“Lou Ann is here to help you,” Lindsey assures her. “We’re both here to keep you safe from sneaky people.”
“Then get me out of this goddamn place. They’re listening.” Mom points to the remote. “They hear everything.”
“Is she going to be like this forever?” Last night she’d been bat-shit crazy, but in a great mood. Today she’s still bat-shit, but her eyes have turned to slits like a snake’s.
“Her temperature is still spiking at a hundred and two.” Lindsey turns her attention to the vital-signs monitor. “The bigger issue is, her oxygen level dropped to the low eighties this morning.” She