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With lunch complete, I had to face going back through the hospital hallways to the parking lot. Skyler and Hunter brought a wheelchair, as I was not going back inside on a bed. "There is something we want to show you, Mom."
"We think you will like it."
I closed my eyes for the trip through the hallway.
"You can open your eyes now, Rainbow." Martin stopped the ride in a hospital room. But this was no ordinary hospital room. In no stretch of the imagination could I call this a white room anymore.
"It was my idea, Mom, but everyone helped," explained Emily.
Posters of all kinds were plastered on the walls, outlined with balloons of all sizes, shapes and colors, bouncing on equally colorful strings. Horizontal surfaces were buried in flower pots and vases. Even the ceiling was covered in streamers and crepe paper. Any medical equipment not screwed into the wall was absent.
Instead, the room was filled with people. Besides Martin, Skylar, and Hunter, there was Audrey, Travis, Emily, Aunt Irene, Uncle Arlis, and my dad, all looking hopefully at me.
"Grandpa stopped by the house to pick up a few sleeping bags, lanterns and board games. You can go home if you want, but you will be all alone, as we are camping out here," Travis announced with glee.
Speechless, I cried big happy tears.
Corbin came by later in the afternoon to get my statement. It was very hard to recall all the nasty details with my children right there. Knowing I would have to tell them eventually, I just blurted it all out.
"So that is how the flammable air fresheners spilled!" Corbin exclaimed. "The fire chief traced the beginnings of the fire to a box of those refillable packets the shop sold. They spilled on to the coffee cup warmer that flipped on when it also fell. Once the oil hit the right temp, a small fire started which heated a big batch fast, causing the explosion."
When I asked about Janice, he reluctantly gave the news that her body had been near the hot tub. That was just on the other side from where we broke through and climbed out. No autopsy needed as there were burns over eighty percent of her body.
Meanwhile Craig Maurey was being extremely helpful, Corbin reported. After I saw him last in Power Fitness, he slipped out another door and hid in his car. He couldn't stand to see what Janice would do to the Chief or me, but didn't know how to stop her. After the sudden explosion started a fire, the bullet volley, and no one ran out, he dialed 911, and hadn't stopped talking since. Thanks to his cooperation, they found Janice's hidey-holes filled with the masks they used and unspent cash from the bank robberies.
"How did the Chief end up there anyway?" I asked.
"Old fashioned police work," Corbin replied. "As suspects dropped from the list, and his background checks came back, he was suspicious of Janice. He sent Caleb to get a judge to sign a search warrant for her house, and meanwhile went to keep track of her. He saw her car in the parking lot, pulled in, and then saw yours farther back. His gut told him to get in there pronto."
Early evening brought many more visitors dropping by to tell stories of the day including the highest price item on the auction block, a quilt hand stitched by St. Matthew's quilting club. The Bailey family cookies sold-out in record time and the Pit Stop booth, with Millie Parker and her friends assisting in our family crisis, had record sales.
Jake Timberland stopped by with a huge bouquet of red roses. He hid behind them in a whispered conversation. "Does he know?"
"Don't believe so."
"Any ideas?"
"Possibly." I whispered a reply, before Martin muscled in.
"That is my wife you are smothering," Martin said, removing the curtain of roses.
Jake teased, "Better you than me, Martin. I am still wondering how you managed to tame her."
Visitors were barred as of nine every evening, much to the relief of the nurses and the few other patients. But a few stragglers were able to sneak in.
Todd and Chris sauntered in as the children were setting up the sleeping bags. "Now this is a sight!" Todd announced. "I just had to see my dream come true, since we were here."
"Very funny." I frowned.
Chris laughed, "I love what you have done with the place. Looks almost homey."
"That was their plan," I replied. "But I still don't intend to stay long."
That night, surrounded by color and my loving family, I closed my eyes in search of rest. Peaceful it was not, as memories came forth as nightmares and haunted dreams. After the first startled jerks, my beloved Martin held me soothingly the rest of the night in an effort to stave the memories of the burning, smoky inferno. The children slept in their sleeping bags around and at the foot of my bed. I had convinced my father to stay the night with Uncle Arlis and Aunt Irene to save his back from the hard floor.
It was on mutual agreement that I was approved for early release on Sunday. My blood-oxygen levels were back to normal, and the coughing had mostly stopped. The six extra unwashed bodies in that room added to the need to send me home.
Arms filled with gifts and plants, Martin wheeled me across the hall to visit Chief Flint while the children took down the decorations. I was happy to see the Chief's room, though not blanketed in color as mine, still had quite a few get-well decorations on the windowsill for someone who moved into town not two weeks before.
"Looks nice in here," I referenced all the caring gifts and cards, "but it could still use a bit more color." I handed Martin the box of bright colored balloons and blooming plants to place wherever he could find space.
"Yes. The community definitely reached out to me now. I heard that your decorating crew did even more," the Chief smirked.
"I don't like white walls." I shrugged, trying to hide my shudder. I tried to sound light-hearted, "You have seen my house, not a plain, bare, white wall anywhere. White has no feel, energy or desires. It is an empty canvas waiting, needing to be filled, but the painter has no time left to fulfill them."
These white walls were getting to me, no matter how much I tried not to think about them. I tried to talk over the edges of panic, "No inspiration. Nothing to encourage you to dream, desire, or want to get better. It just sucks the life right out of you."
"Rainbow," the Chief kindly cut into my chatter, waiting for my complete attention. "Go home."
"I'm sorry you got shot," I blurted out, my voice cracking, tears filling my eyes. "I saw her aim and did my best to deflect it."
"Not your fault," he coughed, dismissing my concerns. "My job. I just wish I had been faster, or worked harder."
Wincing, he reached for his water. Martin moved it closer for him.
"You did work hard! You figured it out before all of us. Especially me. I just realized it right before you arrived."
He put up his good hand like a stop sign, "Rainbow, if there is one thing I learned in my job, it is this: Do not take blame for other people's actions. You did not kill Harvey, nor pull the trigger on me. Those were her decisions, her actions, alone."
"Same for you. Your life, your actions." I nodded, somberly. "Any thoughts on that topic?"
"About that story?" he asked. "With all this extra downtime, yes, I have been thinking."
"And?"
"Did Laura know about the Tops and Bottoms, you think, and just glossed over it?"
Thinking back to her age when she was in town, I dismissed it. "Nah. She would have been too young and only here for the summer. She would have just known her family's friends. If she had attended school here, she would have figured it out eventually."
"School yard fights?"
"No," I laughed. "Nothing so drastic as that anymore. No, the family feuds now are more like wrong side of the tracks kind of thing. Each person is known by their family connection, and each side considers the other on the wrong side."
As the children came in behind us, Chief Flint nodded, "I see. Now Mr. Bailey, and children, why don't you take her home and away from these white walls. I have the feeling we will all sleep better."
As soon as all seven of us were in the van headed home, Martin whispered, "Tops and Bottoms? What was that all about?"
"The Chief was married to Laura Pennington, of the Jensen clan." I whispered back.
Martin whistled, "He is living in a Maurey rental, isn't he?"
"Yep."
"Let's hope no one else figures that out until he recovers." Martin replied.
I nodded, already plotting plan B options.
While Chief Flint might have slept better in the hospital without me there, I did not. Well, not quite true. I did sleep Sunday after Martin cooked my favorite fried chicken and mashed potatoes, served to me in bed, surrounded by my beloved family. After lunch, he shooed the kids into the rest of the house, leaving Audrey behind reading a book to keep me company. If I dreamt that afternoon, I don't remember specifics, but when I woke in the evening, I was ready to get busy.
"I have to go, Martin," I explained as I pulled on clean clothes. "I have to. It is the only way for me to finish it. To put it behind me."
"But why now? Can't it wait until morning? You just got out of the hospital." Martin firmly stood behind me wrapped his arms around me. "You need to rest."
I turned around and melted into his chest. "I love you dear. And I am so glad you are here for me. But you have been married to me for how long now?"
"Eighteen beautiful years," he murmured. "And I am looking forward to many many more."
"Well so am I. You knew when you married me that I had many quirks."
"Yes."
"Then you know I just have to do this," I insisted.
Martin gently tipped my head back to look me in the eyes. "Fine, but I won't let you go alone. While you get what you need pulled together, I will call your dad to come back from Irene's to stay with the kids."
An hour later I was intensely working in my studio above the Pit Stop. The space had been a small, two-bedroom apartment, but when the last tenant moved out and our own family grew to fill all corners of our house, I claimed it for myself. Years ago, I learned night was the best time for my painting passion, when the world all around me was quiet and no young distractions underfoot.
Martin slept on a cot we kept in the bedroom we used as an office. All night, I let my jumbled thoughts and feelings flow, palate in hand, on to the blank canvases set on easels before me. While the paint danced, the back of my mind focused on the new problems that the town faced, even if they didn't know it yet.
By morning I had a plan of sorts and left Martin to set it in motion while I took a nap. A few hours later I emerged from the bedroom. While I ate the Monday lunch special upstairs, my family presented a progress report.
The twins reported the mayor and school board president was willing to meet here for a quick lunch meeting on Wednesday. No official votes could happen, but a quick conference before that night's meeting was possible. That meant we had only forty-eight hours to finish crunching numbers, design presentations and finalize details. Lunch finished, I returned to my painting, leaving all else in the hands of Martin and the children.