Discombobulate

Chapter Seventeen

Sheriff Winston pressed his lips together. He tried not to laugh. He couldn't stop another grin from forming on his face.  

The more time he spent with Denise, the more he thought he was right. Denise didn't seem like she could be a murderer. She could be a little awkward and timid at times. When she wasn't being serious, she had a slight sense of humor. 

A white-coated doctor came speeding into the room. He read Denise's diagnoses off a clipboard. Silver-colored round glasses sat on the edge of his nose.

"We'll see you back here in about six weeks. Unfortunately, it's going to take a while for your wrist and thumb to heal."

The nurse who appeared earlier was behind him. She cleared her throat. The doctor glanced over the top of his glasses. He quickly pushed them up when his eyes met Sheriff Winston's. 

"Oh, excuse me, Sheriff. I had no idea you were in here." He smoothed back the top of his short grey hair. 

"That's okay. There's no need to give me special treatment. I'm waiting for Denise to get discharged, so I can take her home." 

"Of course, of course!" The doctor turned back to Denise. "Don't get your cast wet. You can wrap it in a grocery bag if you need to shower. I guarantee it's going to hurt at some point. You can take an over-the-counter painkiller when needed. I think that's all I have on my part. Any questions?" 

Denise raised an eyebrow. "That's it? I was hit by a truck and I only have a broken thumb and wrist?" 

"You have some bruises here and there. We made sure to take a variety of tests when you got here. Other than that, you're perfectly fine. It's a miracle, considering your head could have been squashed like a grape." 

Winston watched Denise's face turn pale. She looked like she was about to throw up. He quickly changed the topic. "Are there discharge papers she has to sign?" 

The doctor scribbled something on his clipboard. He handed the clipboard and pen to Denise. "These are your discharge papers. Debbie can help you if you need help. I have other patients I need to tend to. If you have any questions, ask. If you have questions when you go home, call us."

They said their goodbyes and the doctor left. Denise got to work looking over the papers and signing them. 

"When you're finished, you can slip these on." Debbie grabbed a stack of clothing off the counter and put it on the edge of Denise's bed.

Denise continued scanning and scribbling on her documents. 

"I'll be out in the waiting room when you're finished," Winston informed Denise. 

She flashed him a thumbs up to acknowledge him and continued going through the papers. His work boots thudded along the tile floor. The moment they were out of the room, Debbie was at her side. 

"It was nice of him to buy you clothing. What a sweetheart he is!" 

"He did what?" The pen fell out of Denise's grip.

Debbie grabbed her right arm and removed the IV drip. Denise rubbed where the tube had been. She grabbed the pen and continued writing.

"You arrived in an ambulance and he showed up not long after that. We had to cut off your clothes to make sure you were stable. He got your clothing sizes and left to buy you clothes."

Debbie continued, "he came back with them. Ever since then, he had been waiting for you to wake up. I'm surprised you're not concussed. You hit your head pretty hard."

Denise went back to the last discharge paper. "I was on the phone with him when it happened. He didn't have to buy me clothes. I'll have to pay him back."