Chapter 9: Dr. Johannsen

QUINN'S POV

There were no windows in the room. Instead, a wide skylight filled the room with sunshine. The bright and airy room, decorated in shades of lilac and plum and white, looked like a woman's room. It made me wonder how many others had spent the night in this bed besides me.

White walls and a white chest of drawers and a white chair accented the simple furnishings. The only color came from the bedding and the pictures hanging on the white bricked wall. The sheets smelled like lavender and I buried my face in the pillow as my head began to throb again with rhythmic beats.

"Good morning, Miss Mathers," a familiar voice greeted and I shot up in surprise. The sheets fell, revealing my bra, and I yanked them up hurriedly. I paused, looking underneath the blankets. Clad in only my bra and panties, I couldn't remember getting undressed. Then I knew. I didn't undress myself; Ford had undressed me. My cheeks blazed crimson.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Dr. Johanssen asked.

She looked like sunlight itself as she walked into the room. She'd pulled her white blonde hair back in a ponytail and those startling blue eyes shone under full lashes.

"I feel like I've been hit by a train," I moaned and fell back against the sheets.

Dr. Johanssen settled beside me on the bed. She uncoiled a stethoscope from around her neck and placed it on my chest.

"Where's Ford?" I wondered.

Dr. Johanssen shot me that secretive smile again. "Your heartrate increases ever so slightly when you mention him."

"You're imagining things. Where is he?"

"At work."

"So you've come to babysit me?"

"No; I came to take care of you. Mr. Harper called last night and told me you weren't feeling well. He wanted me to be here when you woke up, so here I am."

"You take the phrase "house calls" to a whole new meaning."

"I'm just doing my job. Stick out your tongue."

I knew why she'd come. Ford had to leave for work, so he'd appointed her to spy on me. But I didn't mind. I liked her and I felt like crap.

"It looks like you've developed a cold -- most likely from your little fall into the water yesterday. I can hear some congestion in your chest."

A part of me thought she knew I'd tried to end my life, but I knew Ford hadn't told her. He'd said he wouldn't and I believed him.

"Am I going to be alright?"

"With a little rest, you should be feeling better in two or three days. Over-the-counter medicine should help do the trick. Can I get you something to eat?"

"Don't tell me you cook, too."

She laughed in that friendly way of hers. "No. But I'm quite good at ordering in."

I closed my eyes. "I just want to sleep."

"Then you do that. You need it. I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

"Thank you, Doctor."

AFTERNOON

A tray of hot soup and crackers waited for me when I awoke the second time next to a black box on the night stand. Curiously, I sat up and reached for the box. A brand new, top of the line, cell phone lay inside.

My brows crinkled as I pushed the power button and waited for it to completely power on. I scrolled through the various menus and then searched through contacts. Only one contact name appeared in the list – Ford's. He'd programmed his cell phone number, his private business lines at both his offices in D.C. and New York, and his email address.

I shouldn't have been so thrilled to have total access to Ford. I'd slept in his home, worn his things, and now I could reach him whenever I wanted. I'm sure it wasn't his intent in buying the phone. In fact, I'd wager he'd be pretty p*ssed if I called him right now. I wanted to hear his voice, but I knew it wouldn't be wise to call.

I swung my heavy legs over the side of the bed and wrapped the sheets around me. I took a couple of bites of chicken noodle soup and then crumbled up the crackers. Dr. Johanssen appeared silently in the doorway as I brushed crumbs off my hands and onto the tray.

"I'm glad to see you have an appetite. How're you feeling?"

"The tiniest bit better. Sleep is helping."

"Good. Mr. Harper had a cell phone delivered for you while you were asleep."

"Yeah, I saw it."

"He called a little while ago to see how you were feeling."

My heart raced. "That was thoughtful."

"Wasn't it?"

Her tone sounded envious, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me why she'd be envious of me.

"I left some DayQuil on the nightstand. Take it after you've eaten and that should help eliminate the body aches and fever."

I slurped more soup. "I don't think a cold warrants me being waited on hand and foot. Don't you have other patients?"

She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. "Yes. But none more important than you today."

She'd been sent to watch me. I was sure of it now. Casually, my gaze shifted around the room. There were no sharp objects in sight, no pill bottles -- only the single dose of DayQuil Dr. Johanssen had left for me. When I felt better, I'd figure out what to do next. For now, my head hurt so badly I could barely think straight.

"After I eat, I think I'd like to take a bath."

"Let me know and I'll help you. You may feel a bit weak and I don't want you to fall."

I finished my lunch, took my medicine, and Dr. Johannsen returned to run a bath for me. As promised, she supervised as I slowly made my way to the bathroom and climbed into the tub. The therapeutic hot water instantly relaxed my sore muscles and chased away the constant chills that plagued me.

I could hear the doctor rustling around in the next room, presumably fixing the sheets or taking my dishes to the kitchen.

I lifted my heavy hair and rested my neck on the back of the tub. Ford's bathtub was deep, the deepest I'd ever been in, and invigorating, steamy water lapped gently all the way up to my neck. It felt so good to relax, to let my mind wander to nothing in particular. When I should've been anxious and wary of my situation, I felt calmer than ever before.

'But I couldn't stay here with Ford', I thought rationally. He'd already done more for me than anyone else in my life before. The last twenty-four hours with him had given me more perspective and kept me from feeling so alone. What a difference a kind word or gesture made to one's life. Had he saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life?

I still didn't have much to live for -- no family, no job, no money, nothing. In the place of those things stood regret, fear, and shame. In spite of it all, I had the smallest glimmer of hope. At the very least, I deserved a little more time to figure out my life. Ford had gifted me more time, but the question still remained. Where did I go from here?

I only pondered my situation for a few more minutes and came up short. I didn't know what to do or where to go. The thought of staying in a women's shelter depressed me. I needed more sleep. Once my head didn't feel like it'd been weighted with stones, I could think more clearly.

After my bath, Dr. Johanssen returned to escort me back to the bedroom. I looked around for my clothes.

"Where are my things?"

"I put them in the hamper to be washed."

"I plan on sleeping the rest of the day away, so I guess I don't really need them."

"Mr. Harper had an entire wardrobe delivered for you last night. Didn't he tell you?"

The shock of her statement made me dizzy.

"He did what?"

"See for yourself."

She pointed to the closet and I walked to it, timidly opening the door. Inside were brand new dresses, pants, jeans, blouses, sweaters, jackets, and coats. Above my head were rows of boxes of shoes. Idly, I fingered the items, all with the price tags still attached. I recognized some of the designer labels.

I glanced at the price of a particularly beautiful blue wrap dress. $600! I reared back in astonishment. Quickly, I flipped through the other garments. Nothing in the closet cost less than $300. I whirled around.

"Everything is in my size. How did he know?" I spun around again. "I can't accept these. It's too much," I chattered on. "Where would I even wear this stuff?"

Dr. Johanssen walked toward me and wrapped her arm around my waist. She walked me back to the bed and sat me down. She closed the closet door and turned to lean against it, staring at me.

"Don't overexert yourself. You should rest."

"Why would he do all this for me?"

"That's a question you'll have to ask him. There are undergarments in the chest drawers and things for you to sleep in if you'd like to change. Can I get you anything else?"

I'd already begun burrowing beneath the covers. I untangled myself from the bath towel and dropped it to the floor.

"No, thank you. You've been very kind."

She turned to leave.

"When will Ford be home?" I asked.

She smiled softly at me, but it wasn't kind; it was knowing. "I'm not sure. His work hours vary. Sleep now."

The doctor departed and I reached for my new cell phone. I sent Ford a text.

'Thank you for the clothes, but I can't accept them. They're much too expensive.'

I waited a couple of minutes and the phone pinged with a response.

'I'm in a meeting. We'll talk later.'

I rolled my eyes and put the phone down. I wasn't surprised by his brusque, business-as-usual manner. I shut my eyes, blocking out the blinding light from the skylight overhead and went back to sleep.