When Lexi opened her eyes, she was lying in a hospital bed. It only took a second for her to remember the beating, and she quickly tried to sit up, only to find herself tangled up in a web of IVs and other strange cords.
“Will somebody get me out of these cords!” she yelled as loudly as her sore throat would allow. A nurse came quickly to her aid and pushed her back against the bed with a little more force than necessary.
“Hey, bitch! What do you think you’re doing?” Lexi demanded. But the nurse just ignored her. She started checking her IV and messing with other gadgets around the bed.
“Hello!” Lexi tried to say, but it sounded more like a frog croaking. She finally gave up on getting a response from Nurse Ratched, and let her finish whatever job she was supposed to be doing.
“I know you’re upset, Mrs. Ambrose, but I assure you the doctors and I are taking good care of you now,” Nurse Ratched informed her.
“It’s Ms. Ambrose. I’m divorced.”
“Okay, Ms. Ambrose.”
Nurse Ratched finished fooling around with the IV and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She gave Lexi a stern look that reminded Lexi of her own mother, that is, when her mother was sober.
“Your boyfriend beat you pretty badly. I don’t know how much you remember, but you were very lucky.”
“You call this lucky?” Lexi croaked. “I feel like dog shit, lady.”
“I can imagine that you do, Ms. Ambrose. You have a concussion and several of your ribs are broken. Your nose is broken, and, no offense, but not only do you feel like shit, but you look it too.”
Nurse Ratched handed her some ice chips to soothe her parched throat and then provided her with a handheld mirror, per Lexi’s request.
Lexi groaned. She looked like the bride of Frankenstein, only worse. Both of her eyes were black, and although her nose was covered with gauze, she could tell it was swollen three times its normal size. “I guess my career as a model is over,” Lexi whined sarcastically.
Nurse Ratched raised her eyebrows questioningly. Lexi rolled her eyes and attempted to laugh, but every inch of her body hurt too badly. “I’m only kidding,” she said. Nurse Ratched leaned in closer and there it was again: the motherly look.
“Well, you’re certainly pretty enough to be a model, young lady. And it doesn’t take a social worker to figure out that someone like you can do much better than a jerk like that.”
“I suppose by jerk, you must be referring to Reggie.”
“Is that your boyfriend’s name?”
“No.”
Nurse Ratched raised her eyebrows and gave Lexi a confused look.
Lexi explained, “I don’t have a boyfriend. Reggie and I just dated from time to time, and I assure you, he won’t be dating anyone anytime soon after I get my hands on his woman-beating ass!”
Nurse Ratched’s eyes widened, and then she let out a low, hearty laugh. Her laughter was contagious apparently, because the next thing Lexi knew, she was laughing right along with her.
“Ow! My ribs hurt…”
“And they are going to hurt for quite some time. Broken ribs take time to heal, and you’re going to have to take it easy until they do.”
Lexi groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I swear I’m going to kill him.”
Nurse Ratched shook her head. “You do not have to kill anyone. Your neighbor beat you to the punch. In fact, I probably should not be telling you this, but Reggie is down the hall in intensive care. Apparently, your neighbor downstairs was trying to ignore your screams and mind his own business. But when he heard you stop screaming all of a sudden, he worried you might be dead. Not only did he call the police, but he busted into your apartment and beat the living daylights out of Reggie. There’s a chance he might not make it, and if he does, he has a sheriff waiting to arrest him. Either way you look at it, Honey, that boy’s fate is sealed.”
Lexi smiled at the nurse, whose real name was Betty, according to her tag. “Thanks, Betty,” Lexi whispered hoarsely, and she allowed herself to drift back to sleep.