Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19) - Robyn Carr Page 0,108
his shower but he said he’s doing just fine.”
“He’s probably homeless,” Maggie said. “You know we don’t really know these people.”
“Tom offered to try to spend some nights around here, but we don’t hardly have anybody in the park anyhow. And besides, we got Cal here if there’s trouble, which there ain’t likely to be. Cal’s got a cell phone.”
“He’ll probably break into the store and clean us out the first night and—”
“Maggie, the first night’s come and gone and he’s still here, helping out. You’ve been in the city too long. That isn’t gonna happen, honey. And for sure not in March! No one’s passing through in this muck and mess.”
But there had been times when the police or sheriff or ranger had to be called, when a few campers had a little too much fun, too much to drink, got aggressive. Sully had a baseball bat he took with him if he went out to see what was going on late at night. There was a domestic once when Maggie was young—some man knocking around his woman and Sully just couldn’t resist. He decked him, knocked him out. Maggie had been stunned, not just that her dad would do that but that he was that strong. Plus, even though she’d always been told, we never hit, no matter what, she had adored him for it.
It was true the crossing was mostly peaceful. But they were isolated, especially from November to March, and from time to time had a little trouble. They didn’t have any paid security like some of the bigger or state-operated campgrounds. Just Sully. Maggie could count on one hand the number of nights Sully had spent away from the campground. Her graduations, her wedding.
“Was it awful?” Enid asked of Sully’s heart attack.
“I was terrified,” Maggie whispered back.
* * *
Maggie went back to Denver, to a hospital she knew well, and commenced what would become three of the longest weeks of her life. Sully was healing nicely and making great progress...and he was incorrigible. He sulked, he didn’t follow explicit instructions, he got very constipated and it riled him beyond measure. He began speaking abusively to the nursing staff. He went from stonily silent to loud and abrasive; he wouldn’t eat his food and he was moved to a private room because Maggie couldn’t bear the effect he had on his roommate.
“What is the matter with you?” she ground out.
“Besides the fact that my chest was ripped open and I haven’t had a good shit in ten days? Not a goddamn thing!”
“You haven’t been here ten days, but I’m going to get you fixed right away. And you’re going to be sorry you complained to me.” She put two residents on the job; she told them to use any means available and legal, just make it happen. She said she didn’t want to know how they did it but they were to see to it he had a bowel movement by morning.
When she came in to see Sully the next day, he was smiling. And he was passably pleasant most of the day.
After seven days in the hospital she took him home to her house where she was cloistered with him, fed him low-sodium and low-fat foods, took him to rehab every other day and listened to him bitch for another thirteen days.
Finally, she took him back to Sullivan’s Crossing.
And Sully was reborn. His temperament immediately smoothed over. His facial features relaxed. He greeted Enid, Frank and Tom, and spent about fifteen straight minutes greeting Beau. Then Sully ate a salad with turkey slices and complimented Maggie’s thoughtfulness for the lunch.
“I think you dropped twenty pounds,” Enid said.
“Twelve. And I could spare it. Now, Enid, it looks like I’m going to be keeping Frank company for a while. Maggie says I have to go slow. We should get Tom’s boy to help out with things like stocking shelves; get Tom to finish cleaning the gutters and clearing that trench around the house to the stream so we don’t get flooded, if we aren’t already.”
“You aren’t,” a voice said. “I finished clearing that trench and I checked the basement at your house.”
Everyone turned to see the man standing in the doorway of the store. Cal. Maggie looked at him closely for the first time. He was somewhere just under forty, with dark brown hair and light brown eyes that twinkled.
“Cal,” Sully said. “You’re still here? Good to see you! You been helping out?”