ends.”
“I appreciate your feelings,” Judith said as Renie
suddenly gave a start, apparently at something unexpected from Arlene.
“Judith doesn’t know anything about it,” Renie said,
wincing. “Are you sure?”
The comment rattled Judith, who decided she’d better terminate the conversation with Addison. “I’ll let
you know when I hear anything about Joe,” she said
into the receiver. “Thanks for calling.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Renie said to Arlene.
“We’ll let you know when we hear anything about Joe.
Bye.”
“What was that all about?” Judith inquired.
Renie gave herself a little shake. “Arlene sometimes
gets things mixed up, but she’s certain about this one.
She got a call at the B&B today saying that Federal
Express couldn’t make deliveries to Heraldsgate Hill
with all the snow, but they were holding two potbellied pigs for you in their warehouse.”
“Pot-bellied pigs?” Judith was incredulous.
“That’s what Arlene said,” Renie responded, looking
244
Mary Daheim
bewildered. “They’re in cages. Or kennels. Or something.”
“Maybe FedEx has the wrong address,” Judith said
hopefully.
“They can’t deliver the pigs—if they are pigs—until
the streets are clear,” Renie pointed out. “Don’t fuss
about it.”
“I can’t,” Judith responded in a weary voice. “I’m
already fussing too much about Joe. Who do you suppose wanted to see him? If it had been Woody, he or
Sondra would have told me.”
But Renie couldn’t even guess. Instead, she called
home, hoping that one of her children would answer.
Luckily, Tony Jones picked up the phone.
“You mean it?” Renie said, brightening at her son’s
words on the other end of the line. “Oh.” Her face fell.
“Then hide that Uzbekistani cookbook from your father. You can’t live on millet until I get back in the
kitchen. Tell me,” she inquired of her son, “what’s he
doing with those damned Chihuahuas?”
Judith ignored Renie’s anxious probing on the
phone and dialed zero and asked to be connected to the
ICU. Whatever Bill Jones was doing with a couple of
dogs wasn’t nearly as urgent as Joe fighting for his life.
It took some time for Judith to be connected to the intensive care unit. Meanwhile, she imagined that the problem reaching a nurse was because Joe had taken a sudden
turn for the worse. She’d seen it happen with Bob Randall, with people shouting, running, and rushing equipment down the hall. She could visualize the same frantic
movements being performed on Joe’s behalf.
Finally, a tired-voiced female answered. Judith felt
momentarily strangled by anxiety, but she managed to
give her name and ask how Mr. Flynn was doing.
SUTURE SELF
245
“Flynn . . . Flynn . . . Joseph Flynn,” the nurse said
in a voice that dragged. “He’s listed in critical condition.”
Judith flinched. “No change from earlier this
evening?”
“That’s correct.”
“Officially, you mean,” Judith said. “But can’t you
tell whether he’s a little bit better or . . . not?”
“There’s been no change,” the nurse replied and
yawned in Judith’s ear.
Judith and Renie hung up at the same time, then
stared at each other.
“Well?” Renie inquired.
Judith’s features sagged with disappointment. “No
change.”
“I told you they’d let you know as soon as anything
happened,” Renie said. “Take it as a good sign.
Wouldn’t you think that if Joe wasn’t going to pull
through, he would have gotten worse by now? It’s almost ten o’clock.”
Judith flopped back on the pillows. “Maybe.”
Renie waited a few moments before speaking again.
“Tony says Bill has the Chihuahuas in his workroom in
the basement. He sits down there watching them. Then
the dogs watch Bill. And he watches them watch him.”
“Maybe it’s better than watching what’s on TV,” Judith said without much interest.
“Bill doesn’t usually conduct those kinds of experiments,” Renie fretted as Avery, the night nurse, came
in for the relentless vital signs routine.
“Maybe,” Judith suggested after submitting herself
to the procedures, “he did that kind of thing while he
was still teaching at the university. You just never knew
about it.”
246
Mary Daheim
“Dubious,” Renie replied before the thermometer
was stuck in her mouth.
Judith bided her time, drumming her fingernails on
the bedclothes. After the nurse left, she turned to
Renie.
“I can’t stand it,” Judith announced. “I’m getting out
of here.”
Renie sighed. “I should have known. That’s why
you didn’t take your Valium a while ago.”
“Yes.” Judith signaled for Renie to be quiet. A full
five minutes passed as she listened for the voices to die
down and the patter of feet to fade. “They’re settling in
for the night. Help me get into the wheelchair.”
“No.” Renie glared at Judith. “You’ll do yourself
some harm. Besides, we’ll get caught.”
“We won’t,” Judith asserted, laboriously starting to
get out of bed. “Come on, give me a hand.”
“That’s all I’ve got,” Renie shot back. But, seeing
that Judith was determined, she got out of bed. “I
really don’t want to do this, coz. Where are we going?
As if I couldn’t guess.”
“You can,” Judith replied. “The ICU, of course.”
“Of course.” Renie shoved the wheelchair next to
the bed, then used her good arm to help Judith stand.
“Didn’t you tell Woody you thought we were in danger? Isn’t this trip a trifle risky?”
“It’s also necessary,” Judith declared.
Renie sighed again as she helped her cousin prepare
to sit down in the wheelchair. “Are you okay?”
Judith waited to make sure she didn’t feel dizzy.
“I’m fine.” She let Renie help ease her into place and
put a blanket across her lap. “Let’s roll.”
Just down the hall, an older nun sat at the nurses’
station. She looked up and eyed the cousins curiously.
SUTURE SELF
247
“Excuse me,” she said with a faint lisp, “where are you
going this time of night?”
“The chapel,” Judith replied. “My husband is in the
ICU. Perhaps you’ve heard. He was stabbed earlier
today. I want to pray for him.”
“I see,” the nun replied with a benevolent smile.
“You know where the chapel is? The second floor.”
“Thank you,” Judith replied as Renie leaned into the
wheelchair to aid her cousin’s progress.
The elevator was empty. “Blasphemy,” Renie muttered. “What next?”
“I really would like to go to the chapel,” Judith said.
“Luckily, it’s on the same floor as the ICU.”
“That makes sense,” Renie said as the elevator
stopped on two. “Gosh,” she remarked, giving Judith a
shove into the hallway, “it’s dark around here. Which
way, I wonder?”
Metal light fixtures with three bulbs hung from the
ceiling at twenty-foot intervals. The somber dark green
walls were relieved only by the tan linoleum floor. A
wooden sign with flaking gold letters and arrows directed the visitor to the operating rooms, the intensive