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THE DOCTOR frowned at Ava. “You are the child’s guardian?”
“Yes,” Ava replied. Tommasa looked up in surprise.
“She seems to be doing better physically than the other patient rescued from the kidnappers,” he said, “But I’d like to keep her overnight for observation anyway.”
Ava nodded, “That’s fine if she and Francisca Santana share a room. They were rescued together, and I think they will be more comfortable if they are together during their stay.”
The admissions nurse objected. “Francisca Santana is in a private room. You can’t just opt for your daughter to join her—”
“I have her father’s permission,” Ava retorted. “Would you like me to com him so you can speak to him personally?”
“That won’t be necessary,” The doctor, whose name tag read Dr. Baradeau said. “Mr. Santana spoke to me about this before he left the hospital. Those are his wishes as well. Please see that a bed is brought up to the room.”
“Yes sir,” the admissions nurse replied, dropping her eyes. Ava could hear the carefully controlled resentment in her voice.
Dr. Baradeau seemed to hear it also, because he added, “I’m sure you’ll accomplish this with your usual speed and efficiency Mary. I know you are one of the mainstays of keeping this place running so well.”
Mary flushed a little. “Thank you Dr. Baradeau.”
“Henri, please,” he said, smiling at her.
“Give me about twenty minutes to arrange things Ms. Garneys,” she said, and bustled out of the room.
Another nurse came in, closing the privacy curtains behind her. “Let’s get you out of those clothes and into a hospital gown. I’ve brought a bag for your things.” As she spoke, she shook out a blue gown open at the back.
Tommasa slid out of the bed on the side away from the nurse. She unbuckled the pistol belt and handed it off to Ava, who slung it over her shoulder.
The nurse’s eyebrows rose when she saw the weapon. Tommasa had been lying with a sheet across her hips, so she hadn’t seen it before. She opened her mouth to say something, met Ava’s flat stare and changed her mind.
“Must be nice to intimidate people with that thousand-yard stare; I’ll need to practice more before I can do that.”
Ava sank down into a chair to wait for them to come to take her new daughter upstairs. “You’ll get there,” she said.
Sunrise, who had been asleep until now began to wiggle her way out of the pouch.
“Oh,” Tommasa exclaimed, “What is it? It looks like a catamount, but it has fur.”
“This is Sunrise. She is a catamount,” Ava replied. “Just a different variety than those who live down here in the tropics. The correct name for her variety is Hairy Catamount.”
“She looks like a kitten.”
“She is. I rescued her and her mom from a pack of Kevlars. Her mom didn’t make it.”
“I guess I need to say thank you for rescuing me from social services,” Tommasa said. Privately she was wondering if Ava saw her the way she saw the catamount. She looked into the woman’s eyes and found Ava was watching her with amused comprehension.
“No, I don’t regard you as a homeless waif in need of rescuing; I think in time you would have figured a way out of the fix you were in. You’re resourceful and tough.”
Tommasa blushed up to the roots of her hair. “Are you a mind reader?” she demanded. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“No,” Ava chuckled, “I don’t read minds, so you won’t need to wrap your head in tinfoil. But I am very good at reading people. Most of the time.”
“Is that why you never got married?” Tommasa asked.
“Pretty much,” Ava admitted wryly. “That and the fact I just didn’t like any of them.”
“You could have let social services take me, but you didn’t. Why not?”
“I guess because I used to be you. Only my parents were supportive. I felt you had the right to know what that felt like. No matter how badly I behaved, I always knew my parents wouldn’t throw me away. I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand people like that.”
Tears filled Tommasa’s eyes, and she bit her lip. “They hate me,” she whispered. “I never understood why they didn’t give me up for adoption.”
“You’re their daughter!” Ava said, scandalized.
“That’s just it—I’m not. Oh, they stood as mother and father to me but I’m the daughter of my father’s sister. She was raped. After she had me, she killed herself. To avoid a scandal, they took me as their daughter.”
Ava had her mouth open for a blistering condemnation about the elder de’Riccis, but an orderly coming in to move Tommasa upstairs to Francisca’s room prevented her.
The orderlies had shifted Francisca’s bed out of the center of the room to make space for Tommasa’s, which a nurse was just now making up. Francisca had apparently slept through the entire thing.
“How long before she wakes up?” Ava asked.
The duty nurse, whose name tag read Borgia, was in her early thirties. Her light brown hair was caught back in a bun. Her nurses cap had wings with a blue stripe. She had a sturdy body and a pleasant smile. She consulted the medi-tab at the foot of the bed. “It might be several hours. She is suffering from exhaustion, malnutrition and dehydration.”
She went to the foot of Tommasa’s bed and picked up her medi-tab. “The Doctor ordered you be given eight ounces of juice every three hours. We have orange, tomato and pineapple. Which would you prefer?”
“Ah—orange juice to start,” Tommasa replied.
“Coming right up,” the nurse bustled out.
Ava’s com beeped. It was Judith. “Hey, where are you?” her sister demanded.
“I’m in Tommasa’s and Francisca’s room at the hospital,” Ava replied. “Who wants to know?” she asked suspiciously.
Judith laughed. “Well, me for one. But Mom will want to know as well.”
“So, tell her. It’s not a secret. Ummn, you can also tell her I sighed up to be Tommasa’s guardian after those bastards who claim to be parents washed their hands of her. Ask her to get the room next to mine ready. And when you bring me a change of clothes, go by and pick up a couple of things for Tommasa a well.”
“Sure, what size does she wear?”
“Hang on, I’ll ask her. Tommasa, my sister’s going to pick up some clothes for you and she wants to know your sizes.”
“Size 14, I think.”
Ava relayed this information to Judith. She turned back to Tommasa. “She wants your shoe size and your bra and panties as well. Here, this is silly, you talk to her.” She handed her com bracelet over to the girl.
Tommasa handed it back when Judith hung up. “Who is Aunt Carmen?”
“Aunt Carmen is a force of nature. She’s probably in her eighties, but no one knows for sure, and she isn’t saying. If Judith is taking her shopping for you, there is no telling what they might bring for you to wear.”
For the first time in a long time, Tommasa laughed. “She sounds like fun. Anything will be better that what they gave us at the plantation!”
Sunrise, whom Ava had let loose to explore began scratching at the bathroom door. “Uh-Oh, I bet she needs to pee or potty. Excuse me while I find something to serve as a litter box.”
Ava opened the bathroom door and went in. Sunrise darted past her. Not finding what she was looking for, she finally climbed in the shower stall which looked huge for a litter box, but she used it anyway. Ava sighed and cleaned it up. She knew from experience the kitten would be hungry, so she dug a bottle out of her pouch.
“Would you mind feeding her while I find something to put her solid food in?” she asked.
“Sure, just show me what to do,” Tommasa said, reaching for Sunrise.
Ava handed her the bottle of formula and Sunrise latched on eagerly.
“Wow!” Tommasa exclaimed, “She’s a lot stronger than I thought she would be. How old is she?”
“The vet said about four weeks.”
Tamara arrived before Judith and Aunt Carmen. “Your vet bot said Sunrise would need more formula and solid food. I didn’t know how long you would be kept here so I brought it with your clothes. Ava, introduce me to my new granddaughter.”
Ava smiled, “Tommasa, this is my mother, Tamara Garneys.”
“Ah, hello,” Tommasa said.
“Hello, dear,” Tamara came over and gave her a hug, much to Tommasa’s surprise; she had expected Ava’s parents to be standoffish. Such a warm welcome gave her a funny feeling in her tummy.
“Judith and Aunt Carmen went shopping for Tommasa’s clothes,” Ava told her.
“Well, if they get something really awful, I’ll have the seamstress-bot run you up something you like better,” Tamara promised.
Tommasa blinked in surprise when Judith and Aunt Carmen bustled in. Judith, she had met at the plantation when she was rescued. Ava’s Aunt Carmen was a new experience for her. The woman was tiny, with her white hair in a pixie cut. In defiance of the current fashions for older women, she wore skin-tight leggings in a virulent pink, a tight bustier of the same color and a blouse covered in ruffles.
Aunt Carmen gave Ava a hug and came over to the bed. After looking Tommasa over carefully, she pronounced. “She’ll do. Welcome to the family Tommasa. I’m your Aunt Carmen.
“Thank you,” Tommasa said. Ava had been right; being around Aunt Carmen was like being in the center of a hurricane.
“Judith says you are a shooter. Where’s your gun?”
“Ah—in that bag with my clothes.”
Without asking permission, Aunt Carmen went to the bag and rummaged through it. She pulled out the ragged, dirty t-shirt with a moue of distaste. “Throw that rag away,” she tossed the shirt at Judith who caught it and obediently stuffed it in the rooms trash can. Carmen pulled out the pistol and examined it, “Hummn, not bad. Hasn’t been cleaned in a while though. Where’s your cleaning kit?”
“I don’t have one. I just took that one off a dead man.”
If she had intended to shock the older woman, it failed. Carmen nodded approvingly. “The one Judith shot? That was a smart move. Never leave an armed foe behind you, even if he appears dead.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tommasa said.
Carmen gave a bray of a laugh. “Don’t Ma’am, me girl—makes me feel older than I am. I’m just Carmen or Aunt Carmen if you prefer.”
“Yes, Aunt Carmen,” Tommasa said meekly, and the old woman nodded approvingly.
The charge nurse entered the room, a militant look in her eye. “Too many visitors in here,” she declared. “These girls need to rest. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Carmen turned on her, the light of battle in her eye. Before she could open her mouth, Tamara and Judith each took her arm and hustled her toward the door. “We’ll come back later,” Judith said.
As they were leaving, Carlos walked in. Nurse Borgia frowned at him. “Sir, I’m sorry, but visiting hours—”
“This is Francisca’s father,” Ava intervened.
“Oh, in that case, it’s fine,” she said. “Your daughter should be waking up soon, Mr. Santana. I need to take her vitals though, so if you’ll step back a little.”
She took a portable scanner out of her pocket and ran it over Francisca. When it beeped, she aimed it at the Medi-tab at the foot of the bed before restoring it to her pocket. She straightened the bed sheet and tucked it around the girl before going to Tommasa and doing the same thing.
“Would you like another orange juice or maybe something different this time?”
“Could I have pineapple?”
“Absolutely. Just give me a couple of minutes to enter the readings on the hospital computer.”
She bustled out.
Carlos pulled a chair close to the bed and took his daughter’s hand.
Francisca’s eyelashes fluttered, and she asked, “Daddy?” in a hopeful voice.
“I’m here sweetie,” he said.
Francisca sat up and threw herself at him, bursting in to tears. All the alarms on her bed went off when Carlos picked her up and sat her on his lap, cuddling her.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she blubbered. “I was too stupid to listen to you. I thought he really liked me, but it was all a lie.”
“Yes Darling, I know. This was my fault as much as yours; I should have protected you better. Coudet was under orders to take you. I’m sorry, baby.”
Nurse Borgia and several orderlies entered the room at a run.
“Her monitors are all going off—Oh, I see,” she said, when she saw Francisca sitting in her father’s lap. She came to the bed and shut off the alarm. She tapped her shoulder tab and told it, “Cancel Code Blue.”
She pulled a box of tissues out of a drawer and handed them to Carlos. Francisca took several and wiped her face and blew her nose.
A pert looking dietician poked her head in the door, asking, “Okay to bring in the dinner trays now?”
“Yes, go ahead,” Nurse Borgia replied.
“Dr. Baradeau prescribed a light meal for both of you. If you can tolerate it you can have something more substantial for breakfast. I have a list of choices for you to choose from. Just put in your order.”
She pulled Tommasa’s table across her lap and set out a covered plate of Mashed tubers, a meat blob, and something green, to be chased with an eight-ounce glass of milk. It was impossible to tell what the original items had been, since they had all been through a blender until they were a smooth pulp.
Tommasa eyed the plate in revulsion. “This looks like baby food—do I have to eat it?”
The dietician laughed. “Just until we see if your system can tolerate it. How long has it been since you ate a real meal?”
“Quite a while,” Tommasa admitted grudgingly. She lifted a forkful of the tubers, hoping it was potatoes and put it in her mouth.
The dietician turned to Francisca. “Would you like to eat sitting in your Daddy’s lap, dear?”
When Francisca nodded, she adjusted the table and set out the same meal she had given Tommasa, with the instructions, “Just eat until you fee full. Don’t force it.”
Francisca fell asleep again after dinner. Carlos laid her in the bed.
“Ava, I hate to impose on you again, but Coudet gave me the name of the man who ordered my daughter taken. I need to find him. Could you stay until I get back?”
“I’ll probably be here anyway,” she assured him. “If they let her come home before you get back, do you want me to take her home with me and Tommasa?”
“Yes, please. If she wakes up tell her I’ve gone hunting the man who ordered her taken so I can make sure he doesn’t do this again.”
“Of course,” Ava replied.
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