Stuart Woods: Insatiable Appetites

“You’re going to get it,” Stone said.

“There’s stiff competition from Ed Rodgers, the editorial page editor.”

“Nevertheless. You’re going to get a Pulitzer and the job. You’d better get going, you don’t want to be late for this one.”

“I’ll call you later,” she said. She kissed him and fled.

A young man in scrubs and a white coat strode into the room. “Good morning. I see you’re awake,” he said cheerfully. “I’m Dr. Lefkowitz, your surgeon.”

“How old are you?” Stone said.

Lefkowitz laughed. “I get that a lot. Older than you think. You were in surgery for a couple of hours. We repaired the artery and you took three units of blood. We kept you sedated through the night to keep you from moving around. You’ve had a tetanus shot and an IV antibiotic, too.”

“When am I getting out of here?” Stone asked.

“We’ll keep you another night, just to be sure there’s no further bleeding or infection. You should be out of here this time tomorrow. Move your arm as little as possible. I’ll check on you again later today.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

“I need my phone,” Stone said to the nurse. “It should be in my jacket pocket.”

“You’re going to need a new jacket,” she said, going to the closet and finding the phone. “And a new shirt, too. And some pants. Everything was soaked with blood.” She handed him the phone, and he pressed a speed dial button.

“Woodman & Weld,” Joan said. “Stone Barrington’s office.”

“It’s me,” Stone said.

“Thank God. Fred told me they took you away in an ambulance, but he didn’t know where, and I couldn’t get ahold of Dino.”

“In a hospital somewhere in darkest Brooklyn. I had an accident, but I’m fine. I’ll be home tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just a little fuzzy around the edges,” he said. “It’s the drugs. I’m going to need a change of clothes — suit, shirt, tie, shoes, socks, and underwear.” He handed the phone to the nurse. “Tell her where I am.”

Dino burst into the room. “You’re awake!” he said. “I was here last night when you came out of surgery, but they said you’d be out for a while.”

“More than awake, I’m alive,” Stone said.

“Mary Ann called. They made it to Palermo okay.”

“And Pietro?”

“Suicide by cop. Did us all a favor.”

“Is Dolce safely in the convent?”

“Yes, the transfer went well.”

“Do you think they can hang on to her for a while?” Stone asked.

“For the rest of her life, I hope.”

“We can hope,” Stone said.

Stone was home before lunch the following day. They got him into bed, and Joan fussed around. He insisted on dictating letters to Carla and her mother and signed the checks.

“That’s it,” Joan said.

“FedEx those,” he said.

“Carla called a couple of times. They wouldn’t put her through at the hospital.” The phone rang, and Joan got it. “It’s Carla.”

Stone took the phone in his good hand. “Hi, there,” he said, more cheerfully than he felt.

“They wouldn’t let me talk to you at the hospital.”

“I just got home.”

“Are you all right?”

“Fine. They’ve told me to stay in bed for a week, then I have to start physical therapy.”

“Take that seriously — it’s important.”

“That’s what my doctor said.”

“I didn’t get the job,” she said. “Rodgers did.”

“I’m sorry. It’s because you’re only a mere slip of a girl.”

“That must be it,” she said, managing a laugh.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he said, “but I have to get some rest now.”

“Of course you do. Don’t worry about me.”

“Carla, your life is about to change in a big way,” he said. “You’ll be glad you didn’t get the job.”

“What are you talking about.”

“For one thing, you won’t have me on your hands. I’ve decided I can see only one woman in our nation’s capital.”

“Rats,” she said. “And at a time like this.”

“This time tomorrow, you won’t know I’m alive,” he said. “Really. Now goodbye.” He hung up.

He woke up in time for dinner, which was broth. Dino and Viv came and spent an hour with him, then he had to go to sleep again.

“You’re spending Thanksgiving with us,” Dino said. “In a wheelchair, if necessary.”

He had forgotten the upcoming holiday. “I won’t need a wheelchair,” he said.

On Thanksgiving, he needed the wheelchair, and his arm was in a sling, bound firmly to his body, so he couldn’t move it.

“You’re spending Christmas with us, too,” Viv said.

A nurse came every day and changed his bandages. When they took him off the painkillers, it hurt. His physical therapist was a plump, middle-aged woman in her fifties, who was without mercy. She forced him to move his arm, exercise it, lift little weights.

He was more himself at Christmas. They exchanged gifts and ate a lot. The sling was a thing of the past.

“So, what does the New Year hold for you?” Dino asked.

“Flight school for the new airplane,” Stone replied.

“I forgot. When is the delivery?”

“When I finish flight school.”

“Where?”

“Wichita.”

Dino sucked his teeth. “Doesn’t sound like much fun, especially in the dead of winter.”

“What place is fun in the dead of winter?”

“Key West.”

“You’re right.”

The next day, Ann called from Washington. “I’m sorry I haven’t called much,” she said.

“It’s okay, I’ve been busy. I’ll see you for New Year’s, though.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Kate’s working you on New Year’s Eve?”

“It’s not that, Stone. I’ve been seeing somebody.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Exactly. I can’t do the inaugural with you, either.”

“Anybody I know?”

“Andy Cardiff. He’s going to be our congressional liaison.”

“Working for you?”

“Reporting directly to Kate. We couldn’t see each other otherwise.”

“I wish you every happiness.”

“Same here for you. You’re all better, aren’t you?”

“All better.”

“Bye-bye, then.”

“Save me a dance at the Inaugural Ball.”

“Sure.” She hung up.

“Damn!” he said aloud. “And I burned my other bridge!”