Read Deadly Dosage Online

Authors: Cheryl Richards

Deadly Dosage (26 page)

     “What’s my other option?”

     “Well, her bill is over $20,000. You’d have to
pay at least $3,500 now and we could agree on a payment plan of around $500 per
month until the balance is paid in full.”

     “This is ridiculous. I’m calling an attorney.”

     “That’s your right, however I suggest working
with the Medicaid office.”

     “I’m a busy woman. You’ll be hearing from my
attorney.”

     “I’ll look forward to it.” I smiled and showed
her out. I was tempted to kick her in the behind but I controlled myself. I
smelled my beautiful roses instead and weighed the benefits of phone sex to no
sex.

 

 

Time passed slowly at the front desk and I was more
than ready when Donna and Shantel showed up. I stepped away to grab my coat and
handbag. Donna followed me to my office.  “From Sam?” I nodded. “Pretty. Chuck
doesn’t give me anything but bowling tips.”

     “Did you check for the brown polyester pants?

     “Yeah, on Saturday night. No polyester in sight.”

     “Big relief.” I toss my scarf around my neck.
“Ready. My car or yours?”

     “I’m parked closer. Let’s take mine.”

     I followed her out into the parking lot. The
rising sun had smiled down on the asphalt during the morning hours, changing
the ice to slush. Quite a mess, but not life threatening.

     “Ahhh,” I complained.

     “What!”

     “Soaker. Wet through to my sock.”

     She laughed. “Got to watch those puddles.”
     I smirked and climbed into her car. It smelled like dog and I sneezed.
“Did you get a dog?”

     “No. Favor for Tom.” She started the engine.

I raised my eyebrows in
question. “Tom?”

“You know, my brother. Needed
his Lab taken to the vet for shots. The battery was dead on his car, so I took
Morgan to the vet for him.”

“Oh.” I sneezed again. Good
thing it was a short ride.

“Forgot, you’re allergic,
right? Want me to open the window?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just
drive.”

The drive took two minutes. We
parked and entered the restaurant, ordered and sat down with our drinks. The
restaurant drew a relatively large crowd during the week, and today was no
exception. The food tasted better than average and the price couldn’t be beat.
The bread lady stopped by and gave us the remaining in her basket. After our
table, she left refill her basket.

Donna grabbed a breadstick.
“Wish we would’ve gotten fresh ones.”

She liked to talk with her
hands, so I had to move a bit to avoid getting hit with a breadstick while she
spoke.

     “So, what’s going on with you and Sam? I thought
you broke up with the guy, now he’s making dates and sending flowers.”

     “We sort of reconciled on Sunday.”

     “Care to explain that in more detail? On Saturday
you wigged out because he made a double date.”

     “Well, for starters, he wants to marry me.”

“What?!” She accidentally
tossed her breadstick across the room and it hit a guy in the foot. He was too
busy shoveling food into his face to notice.

We laughed and the bread lady
made a return trip. She gave a disapproving look and moved on.

While I explained the charm
story, our food was delivered. I beat Donna to the parmesan cheese and lavishly
sprinkled my mostaccioli.

“He must’ve assumed you’d
accept his proposal so he made plans with Chuck.” Her eyes widened. “Tell me
you didn’t accept, Sunny.”

“No, but we did have great
makeup sex.”

Her gaze was reproachful.
“That was a mistake. Don’t see him again.” She sipped her soda until a third of
it was gone.

“What about this Lloyd guy?
Didn’t you hit it off?”

“Actually we did, which
complicates things with Sam.”

“No it doesn’t. Stop seeing
Sam.”

“Why are you so down on Sam? I
thought you liked him.”

“I did, until he hurt you. Get
your head out of the clouds and remember the bad times, Sunny. Not showing up for
dates. Brandi! I could go on, but for your sake, I won’t. I don’t deny the guy
has looks and charm, but you deserve better.”

My fighting pants came on.
“Donna, I know you mean well, but Sam’s trying to change. It’s only fair to
give the guy a second chance. You don’t know him like I do.”

She ate her salad and finished
off two breadsticks in a row without even acknowledging my presence.

I felt guilty. “Donna, I’m
sorry. I know you only have my best interests at heart. I just have to do this
my way.”

She gave me a weak grin.
“Okay.” She ate another breadstick. She looked over my shoulder. “Holy cow.
Check out those clown pants that lady is wearing.”

I turned to see what she was
talking about. A woman in line had on white sweat pants with giant clown faces painted
on them. They were freakishly scary.

“Quite bizarre. Want a
refill?”

“Sure.”

I took her cup and mine and
refilled them at the soda fountain. I returned quickly and sat down in the
booth.

 “Thanks. So does that mean
it’s on for Friday?”

“I honestly don’t know. He
hasn’t mentioned it yet.”

“I’ll probably know sooner
than you. If I do, I’ll let you know.”

We finished our meal and
returned to work with another refill. Sometimes Donna could be a mother hen, still
I still enjoyed being with her.

 

 

When I returned, Shantel was balancing on a ladder in
her spiked heels, taking down the Valentine’s Day heart decorations and
replacing them with St. Patrick’s Day shamrocks. March lay just around the
corner and I hoped it came in more lamb and less lion. My tolerance level for
winter was depleted.

     “I put a few messages on your desk, Sunny,” she
called over her shoulder. “You too, Donna. Family coming in to tour at two.”

     “Thanks. Bye, Sunny.” She entered the office she
shared with the overly ambitious social service director.

     “See you later. Like the decorations Shantel.
Don’t fall and break an ankle.”

     “Don’t want to watch the phones while I stay home
on workman’s comp?”

     “In a nutshell.” I smiled and returned to my
office. I stopped to smell the roses before taking my coat off. Flowers sure
spruced up this dreary office. Maybe I’d bring flowers in on occasion just to
make my habitat more welcoming.

     I reviewed the messages on my desk. Two returned
collection calls. That was a good sign. People who planned on ducking bill
collectors didn’t return calls.

     While taking off my coat, I flicked on my
computer. I planned to make a few calls and then do a little more research on
Mr. Rodney Schroeder.
     Sitting in front of the computer, I sipped some soda and pulled up Mr.
Schroeder’s account. Clicking on the census tab, I saw he’d gone out to the
hospital six times. I hit the nurse notes tab, and typed in the date of
admission and chose a span of thirty days. The report came up and I read
through it. Following the notes, it seemed his condition was deteriorating
instead of improving. Hair loss. Skin discoloration. Nausea. Vomiting.

     I sipped some more soda and looked at my roses. I
thought of Lloyd’s pink roses sitting in a vase on my dining room table at
home. Both were beautiful. One large and showy. The other small and delicate.
Both smelled sweet, neither had thorns. What did each tell me about the man
that presented them to me?

     Didn’t take much for me to daydream. I turned my
attention back to Mr. Schroeder. I printed off the page of nursing notes and
highlighted each symptom. When Lloyd got the lab report back from his friend,
maybe we could trace the symptoms back to a cause.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
33

 

 

Being the new assistant manager, Brandi was assigned
mostly evening hours. It was fine with me. The less I saw of her, the better.

     The microwave dinged and I pulled my bag of
popcorn out. I shook it and carefully opened it, wary of the escaping steam. No
burns this time. I added a packet of cheese I removed from a macaroni &
cheese box and shook the bag again. Presto! Cheese popcorn. I tossed the dry
noodles in the garbage. They were only good for macaroni & cheese or shrimp
noodle casserole. I loved the latter, but I hated making it. So goodbye
noodles.

     Plans were to watch an old flick on cable
tonight. Five minutes after I sat on the couch, the commercials were finally
finished and the credits began to roll. The credits ended and we were back to a
commercial break and there was knocking at my door.

I wasn’t dressed for company.
Granted it was only seven, but hey, it’s my home. So I put down the popcorn bag
and went to answer the door with my freshly washed face, in my kitty-print
nightshirt and slippers. The only touch of makeup I wore was my cherry-flavored
lip balm.

With the chain in place, I
cracked the door open. I didn’t have time to be converted to another religion.
My movie would be on soon. I glanced out and saw Lloyd standing there in the
cold, holding a six-pack and a pizza box.

     I opened the door wider and let him in. “Hi. I
thought our date was for tomorrow night.” Not that I wasn’t happy to see him,
but the movie was starting in a few minutes.

“I was in the neighborhood and
thought I’d stop by. Hope you don’t mind.” He looked closer. “You have cheese
on your face.” He wiped it off.

     “Homemade cheese popcorn.”

He handed the beer and pizza
to me and took off his jacket.

 “Pizza smells good, what kind
is it?” I asked, carrying the food to the coffee table.

“Half cheese and mushrooms,
half pepperoni with onions. Cracker crust. Wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Not too keen on sausage or
anchovies. Everything else is fine. I don’t have any napkins. Do you mind
grabbing that roll of paper towel on the counter?”

     He went into the kitchen, found the roll, and
brought it back to where I was sitting. He placed it on the coffee table.

“Cute outfit,” he said
plopping down on the couch. “Do you always get ready for bed this early?”

“Sorry, but if you want
something better, you’ll have to call first. I wanted to be comfortable. And,
the movie begins after these commercials, so I hope you don’t mind watching
it.”

     “That depends. Is it some chick flick?” He shoved
a handful of cheese popcorn in his mouth and popped the top on his can of beer.
“This is good.” He took another handful.

“Old black and white.
99
Riverstreet
starring John Payne. Ever see it?”

     “No. Is that the guy from
Kansas City
Confidential
?” he asked tearing off a piece of paper towel. He placed a
slice of pepperoni on it.

     I thought about it. “He is. That was a good movie
too. I’m surprised you’ve seen it. I expected you to say he’s Mr. Galey on—”

     “
Miracle on 34
th
Street
,” he
interjected.

     I opened my mouth to speak and he stopped me with
a finger to his lips. “Shush. It’s on. Eat some pizza.”

     I shrugged and grabbed a piece of cheese and
mushroom and popped open my beer. The pizza tasted delicious with tangy instead
of sweet sauce. If I got lucky, there’d be a piece or two leftover for lunch
tomorrow.

“Mind if I put my feet up?”
Lloyd whispered.

     “Get comfortable.” I took another slice of pizza
that looked extra cheesy. The cheese stuck to the box and stretched as I tried
to take it. I gazed at Lloyd, whose head was down while he yanked his tennis
shoes off. I chanced it. I pulled the stretchy glob of cheese off the box and
stuck it in my mouth. He didn’t notice.

     With his shoes off, Lloyd spread his long legs
out over the table crossing them at the ankles. I moved the pizza box over and
did the same with my legs. Together we watched and ate in silence until the next
commercial break.

 

 

Lloyd excused himself to use the bathroom halfway
through the movie. In the kitchen, I grabbed a couple of pudding cups from the
fridge. May not mix that great with beer, but it seemed classier than handing
him a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips or marshmallows to munch on for
dessert.

     “Pudding?” I offered when he came out.

     “I had a different kind of dessert in mind,” he
grinned provocatively and strolled over to where I was standing. He pulled me
close and nibbled my ear lobe.

     “Movie’s not over,” I said panicky. “Eat the
pudding.”

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