| |
Jake quickly undressed down to his boxers, shivering in the shock of cold air on his skin. The woman with him had seen him like this many times. She appeared taller than a tape measure would read, lean and wiry. Some might describe her as emaciated now, but Jake’s memories of her painted a different picture. Her blonde hair sat atop her head in a messy bun, her makeup applied with practiced precision. She looked tired, but appropriately alert for this particular meeting.
Her name was Deirdre Valentine, but her friends—those she had left, anyway—sometimes called her Dee. She had graduated as the valedictorian of her class and now boasted perhaps the most impressive resume of any graduate in the history of Rose Valley.
Jake didn’t know the exact path that she’d taken after graduation, but he knew it involved several Ivy League schools, illustrious internships, and distinguished awards. That she’d wound up back in Rose Valley was still hard to believe.
Deirdre lightly ran her hands over one of the scars snaking up Jake’s torso. He shivered. Her fingers sent jolts down his body. He watched her blue eyes study him, though she was focused on his every scar.
Occasionally she would stop, take notes on a clipboard, then resume her work. The first time Jake had endured her studying his nearly-naked body to check his healing, it caused him extreme discomfort. It felt invasive—inappropriately intimate. He struggled to separate the vivacious girl he knew in high school from the highly accomplished woman before him. Over time, however, the memory of Dee evaporated and left only Dr. Deirdre Valentine.
Deirdre stood up and finally met Jake’s gaze. “Okay. Things look good. The scars are healing nicely. You can get dressed now.”
She picked up and stared at the clipboard, as if enraptured by its contents. Many months ago, Jake had figured out that she did this to give him some private space in this clinic that hardly had any.
After the accident, Jake had taken a settlement offer from Arrowhead Research. It had stipulated that, in addition to financial compensation, he would receive all his medical treatments directly from Arrowhead Research—free of charge, of course. Deirdre Valentine served as the lead researcher of biomedical development. Why she agreed to personally take on his case was a bit of a mystery.
The one room outbuilding in which they now sat had once functioned as a research facility, and had since been repurposed into this small, makeshift clinic solely for the Jake’s rehabilitation. Truthfully, he would have been perfectly happy with them covering his medical bills, but Arrowhead had seemed all too eager for some other arrangement. Arrowhead Research had been operating in Rose Valley for almost a hundred years. It had grown from a couple of doctors in a barn to a huge facility, employing some of the best minds in the country. In Rose Valley, Arrowhead Research employed more people than any other company; indeed, it was the financial lifeblood of the town. Probably their “generosity” to Jake came from a desire to preserve their public image.
Visiting this clinic always reminded him of the accident. Arrowhead Research medical personnel had been the first on the scene. Rose Valley existed in a blackhole of civilization; the nearest fully functional hospital was at least twenty minutes away by car. Waiting for traditional medical help may have left him dead on the side of the road. Accepting their settlement meant that he received care by some of the best doctors in the world, and that he would save on gas money and travel time for his appointments. Not a shabby deal, really.
Deirdre looked up once Jake was covered. “Before the injection, I want to ask you a few questions.”
Jake had received an injection of an experimental drug on every visit; one she insisted would speed along his recovery. The side-effects had been minimal, and the speed of his healing had exceeded all expectations. Once it went on the market, it would surely cost a fortune. Jake felt privileged to receive it for free.
“Go for it,” Jake replied.
“How’s your sleeping?”
“Mostly good. I have nightmares sometimes. Usually about the accident. Sometimes about things that I can’t remember when I wake up.”
Deirdre wrote something down before continuing, “What about pain?”
“Pretty minimal at this point. Sometimes I’m stiff when I wake up. Occasionally there’s pain in my knee. The hydrocodone usually knocks it right out, though.”
“Good. We need to get you off that, though, so try not to take it any more than you have to. I’d like you to switch to over-the-counter pain medication. Ibuprofen will probably work best, but you can try Aleve or Tylenol as well.”
Deirdre got up and went to the small mini-fridge at the back of the room. Jake took the opportunity to throw out some small talk.
“So, have you heard about the livestock mutilation stuff in town?”
She carefully filled a syringe with a translucent golden liquid. “No, I haven’t. I don’t hang out in town much. Honestly, I feel like I’m always here.”
Jake filled her in on the pressing town news, hoping to pique her interest, and regaling her with his theories of a new, unknown animal. Though she was clearly a doctor now above all, a small part of him still hoped the younger “Dee” rattled around in there somewhere. Jake had crushed on Deirdre for years in high school, and nothing had come of it. She seemed cold and distant now, making it hard to remember what had once so fascinated him about her—other than the fact that she was gorgeous, of course.
Her brow furrowed at what he told her. She looked worried. As he finished the story, she picked up her clipboard. Jake followed her eyes. They seemed to stare blankly.
“That’s pretty crazy,” she said, smiling. “Maybe Rose Valley has its very own Bigfoot.”
Dr. Deirdre Valentine did not smile often, and this smile seemed forced and uncomfortable. While hoping to draw her out, his talk appeared to have had the opposite effect. Jake felt foolish.
“You know what?” she said. “You’ve done really well. You won’t need to see me at all for much longer. I don’t think there’s any reason to keep you on this.” She picked up the syringe and emptied it back into the bottle, before placing it in the refrigerator.
He had been doing really well. Jake had felt more like his old self in the past few weeks than he had for the entire year. Nonetheless, the prospect of ending these injections was almost melancholic. They had made him feel better. Would his recovery come to a halt without them? Maybe he’d also miss seeing Deirdre so regularly.
Deirdre crossed the room back to Jake and extended her hand. “Unless something comes up, I would plan for next week’s appointment being your last. The guys over in epigenetics will be happy to get their lab back.”
Jake instinctively took her hand as he stood up from the examination table. Her frigid touch sent tingles up Jake’s arm, but she had a practiced, solid grip. Deirdre gave him a professional smile this time. One of the many faces of Deirdre. As Jake attempted to decipher Deirdre’s facial expression yet again, he recognized the thrill of trying to understand her, the possibility of reconnecting with the woman inside. He would miss her. Like the beast, she represented an enigma that he desperately wanted to solve.
