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The Countess Dorothy Borghase looked dreadful. She looked like a little girl in her hospital bed. Michaela had never seen her look anything less than perfect, even when she’d had a serious case of the flu five years earlier. Dorothy's beautiful silver hair was a mass of tangles, her skin was dry and paper thin, and even her perfectly manicured fingernails had a bluish tint. Her hands and arms were covered with reddish-purple bruises from blood draws and IV injections. Michaela's heart cried for Dottie. She felt Cookie reach out for her hand and Mic clasped it warmly. They were both upset, but they could never let Dottie know that.
Dottie lay in her bed, attached to dozens of tubes and bottles and hoses and all kinds of stuff Michaela couldn’t identify and couldn't explain. There were at least two IVs running and Dottie had an oxygen mask around her face. Mic’s heart flip-flopped when she saw the ventilator next to Dottie's bed. Oh my God. If they put her on this breathing machine, they'll never get her off. Michaela moved to the other side of the bed, took Dottie's hand and squeezed it "Dottie, wake up. Cookie and I came all the way down here to see you.”
Dottie's amazing, ice blue eyes fluttered open and she stared at Mic. For a second, Michaela thought she saw fear and confusion in Dottie's eyes and then, in an instant, the old sparkle returned. "Where in the hell have you been, Michaela? I've been here forever waiting for you and Cookie to show up."
Mic smiled from ear to ear and said, "You tough old goat. They told us you were pretty sick, but I’d never know it. You’re as mean as ever." She turned to Cookie and said, "Cookie, look at this old broad. She's lying here doing nothing and you and I are practically running the world.”
Cookie stood beside Michaela and took Dottie's other hand and said, "Oh, Countess. We've been so worried about you. They said you might have pneumonia.” Dottie looked at her with her amazing eyes. They were unchanged by the years and still as blue as the sky. Dottie didn't miss a trick. She knew exactly what was going on.
Dottie smiled at Cookie and then started to cough. It sounded like a cough that wouldn't come all the way up. The alarm on her finger sounded and the digital display above her bed dropped from ninety-nine to eighty-four. Michaela guessed it was her pulse oximetry. A nurse came into the room and smiled, "Countess Borghase, how are you feeling? You’ve had a nice nap. And your fever is down. So," she said as she looked around at Mic and Cookie, "maybe your friends will like you well enough to take you home in a few days.”
Dottie's eyes blazed with anger and she huffed, "A few days? Are you crazy? A few days my tail. I'm getting out here just as soon as I can. You guys are a bunch of vampires! Look what you’ve done to me already,” she said as she waved her bruised arms in the air.
The nurse smiled and patted Dottie on the shoulder.
Dottie continued, “You don't know how quickly my aristocratic arse can move do they, Cookie?”
Cookie smiled and remained quiet.
"You nurses don't know how to show me any respect," Dottie snapped. “You don’t do anything I ask you to do,” she said with a frown.
"Oh yes we do, Countess. I gave you ice cream three times this morning when you were not supposed to have it,” the nurse said as she smiled down at her.
"Pssst. You call that mess ice cream?" Dottie asked. "It tastes like nothing. Absolutely nothing," she repeated.
The nurse laughed and said, "It’s sugar-free ice cream. I told you that. It doesn't have sugar in it. We've got you on steroids and your blood sugar is high. You can't have any sugar or real ice cream for a while," she reminded Dottie.
"Sit me up," Dottie demanded. "I want to see my friends. They're both very busy ladies," she insisted.
Michaela shook her head and said, "Dottie, we can't stay. They told us we could only see you for five minutes. I promise we’ll be back later this afternoon. We just want you to get better. Promise?"
Dottie stared up at the nurse with her ice blue eyes and arched eyebrows and said, “Put my bed up."
The nurse stared back at Dottie and asked with a smile, "Now, what's the magic word, Countess?"
"Please," Dottie hissed. "PLEASE put my damned bed up, NOW." Dottie's tantrum ended in a fit of coughing.
The nurse smiled at Cookie and Michaela and said, "You can stay for a few more minutes. She's riled up now and I actually think it's good for her. She's better. Her fever is down and her oxygen is holding steady at about ninety-five so all in all, that's pretty good."
Cookie smiled gratefully at the nurse and said, "Please don't mind her. She's a little arrogant from time to time, but she's truly a wonderful woman."
"No, she's not," Mic said and laughed. “She's not nice at all."
Dottie glared at both of them, her eyes reflected anger, but she remained silent so she wouldn't cough anymore.
"I got the Countess's number. As a matter of fact, all of us do up here. We heard about her from the nurses in the emergency department last night.” She patted Dottie on the shoulder and said, "Now, Countess, I'm here with you until four o'clock this afternoon and then another nurse is coming in. After your friends leave, I want you to rest for a while and then I'll introduce you. Does that sound like a plan?" the nurse asked.
Dottie nodded and asked icily, "Do I have a choice?"
"Nope, you don't," the young nurse said, "but I'm giving you the next best nurse in the entire ICU because I kinda like you,” she said. “Oh, by the way, I’m the best nurse, just so you know.”
Dottie smiled briefly and warmth returned to her blue eyes, "I like you too, Shorty," she said. "You’re not too bad. Now, get out of here so I can visit with my friends."
Shorty feigned a hurt look, laughed and said, "I've been called a lot worse. And by the way, Countess, you can thank your Olympic gold medal lungs and good clean living for saving your life. Most folks probably wouldn't have made it, but you're pretty tough," she said as she stared at the octogenarian, a look of admiration on her face.
Dottie smiled and said, "Yeah, and I'm a runner too,” she said proudly. “Even now. So thanks for noticing."
The nurse beamed at her and said, “All of those things make it likely you’ll go home sooner, rather than later or not at all. Keep up the good work, Countess,” she said as she left the room.
Dottie's eyes clouded as she remembered Camilla, her running buddy, was dead. She pushed the grief from her head and turned to Mic. "What's going on? Did you get the guy that shot me and tried to kill you?"
Mic shook her head sadly. "No. Unfortunately not. But you know, Dottie, he was the same guy that tried to kill Danielle in January in this very same hospital. The guy that poisoned her IV. Remember?"
"Yeah, I remember him. I'm pretty sure I shot him though. The tattoo guy, right?”
Mic nodded pleased nothing was wrong with Dottie’s memory.
“And Angel, how is Angel?" she asked, as a look of fear darkened her face. "I think the guy stabbed him with his knife before I could get my shot off," she said as she tried to remember.
Mic smiled and touched her hand. “Angel’s doing pretty well. He had surgery last night, just like you and he's doing good. We’re gonna go and see him in a few minutes. Henry is waiting outside and he's driving us. Then I'm going to go join Slade over at the Carillon. The Feds think there'll be an attack at the art show today or at the ball field tonight.”
Dottie shook her head. "It's coming back to me now." She looked up at Cookie and said, "Wasn’t Angel missing part of yesterday? I can’t get this straight in my mind. I vaguely remember you and me out looking for him, driving down Main Street in the dark. Did that really happen?"
"Yeah, it did." Cookie looked at Mic and continued, "Remember, Countess, Angel ran off late yesterday afternoon and we couldn't find him anywhere. We searched for him and so did Henry, but he wasn't about to be found.
Dottie lay back against her pillows and tried to remember. "Yes, yes, he came for me last night. He was scratching on my bedroom door. And that's when I knew Mic was in trouble.” She paused for a second and added, “I think I fell on Angel. I seem to remember him jumping off the perp’s chest and breaking my fall.” She looked uncertain, “Is that true?”
Tears jumped into Michaela’s eyes. “Yes, that’s true. That’s absolutely true,” she said.
Dottie was quiet for a moment. “He saved me a broken hip and probably a concussion. Angel is unbelievable!” she said as she raised grateful eyes to Mic and Cookie. “Let me think about the story and I'll tell you more of it when I feel a little bit better." She gave both of her friends a weak smile and said, "I still feel rough. I think I want to take a nap, especially before Shorty gets back in here and pushes me around some more."
Cookie and Mic laughed and Mic bent down and gave Dottie a kiss on her cheek. Honestly, a gunshot wound, surgery, the ICU, and Dottie still smelled like Chanel No. 5, the scent that was part of all things Dottie. Michaela inhaled the fragrance of her and combed her untidy hair back from her perfectly oval face. She loved this uppity, ornery old lady. She was just the best.
"Cookie’s going to put some of your things together to bring up this afternoon and I'll be back with her. We’ll get your own nightgowns and cosmetics and if you feel better, we’ll put your hair up. You'll feel a lot better when you have on your makeup and your hair fixed. More like yourself,” Mic assured her.
Dottie stared up at Mic and nodded. "Okay, lower my bed so I can rest. And by the way, Michaela. You should take your own advice. You look like hell."
Mic stared at her and grinned, “That’s all you’re getting from me if you’re gonna get ugly.” She turned to Cookie and said, “Let’s get out of here. She’s gettin’ mean and cross. Neither of us has time for that.”
Dottie glared at Mic and looked over at Cookie and said crossly, "Give me a kiss, Cookie. You know I love you. And I want you to make all of my favorite foods for me when I get home."
Cookie rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, Countess, most certainly. Henry and I'll go to the grocery store on our way home. I promise when you get home everything will be perfect."
Dottie turned over and fell asleep in an instant. Mic and Cookie listened to her snore gently. Mic shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well, I’d say she's going to be okay."
"Yeah," Cookie said with a laugh. "I'm more worried about the hospital staff surviving."
Mic laughed. "They'll make it, they're pretty tough around here,” she said with one last smile as they left the room.
“Angel is an incredible dog,” Cookie said to Mic as they walked towards the car. “How many lives has he saved?”
Michaela smiled and said, “I don’t know for sure, but a lot. When he’s better, he’ll save a lot more,” she assured Cookie with a smile.
“No doubt, Michaela, no doubt,” Cookie agreed gently.