The truth was always the best policy, and I figured that sooner or later she would probably find out about it anyway – it had created a decent wound and there was no doubt going to be a scar – so I went ahead and told her.
“Yeah, uh, that guy was an old buddy of mine. A doctor, kinda. You see, there's something about the drug bust thing that I kind of left out.”
“Well, go on, let me hear it,” she urged.
“I, uh, I got shot last night.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Shot?! You mean, with a gun?! A real, you know, a gun?!”
I nodded.
“What?! Why didn't you say anything earlier? Are you alright, are you hurt? What are you even doing here, shouldn't you be in the hospital or something?!”
“It's alright, seriously. It’s just a flesh wound. Luckily the bullet didn't hit anything that mattered much. It went straight through. My buddy cleaned the wound and stitched it up. I'll be right as rain in a few days.”
“But... but... it's a freakin' gunshot wound!”
I chuckled. “They're not always fatal, and sometimes they're not even that serious. Last night, I was lucky. Well, unlucky to have gotten shot, but lucky that it wasn't a much more serious injury.”
“Uh, yeah I guess you could look at it like that,” she muttered, looking uncertain. “But seriously... are you okay?”
I could see she was genuinely concerned for my well-being, and I had to admit it felt pretty good to have someone actually care. “I really am, trust me.”
I wanted to tell her this wasn’t new territory for me and certainly wasn't the first gunshot wound I'd ever received, but that would be opening up a whole new can of worms, and I wasn't quite ready for that yet. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nine o' clock.
“I need to get going. I need to head over to the hospital to check on Jane. Um, thanks so much for allowing me to explain all of this, Vivienne,” I said. “If it's alright with you, perhaps you would allow me to take you out tomorrow night if Jane is feeling better? I promise I'll make everything up to you.”
She smiled subtly. “Perhaps I'll allow you to do just that,” she said. “But there's something I want to ask you first.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Could I come to the hospital with you to visit Jane? Maybe I can help cheer her up. She and I got along so well the other night.”
I smiled. “Sure thing. You ready to go?”
“Yep. Let me just change and get my handbag.”
***
I sat on the hospital bench exhausted and worried. The doctors still hadn't been able to get Jane's condition to improve much. She had been happy to see Vivienne, but the strength and intensity of her fever had soon overwhelmed her.
“I hate to see her like this,” Vivienne remarked. “I can't imagine how worrying and stressful it must be for you, as her father.”
“It is,” I replied. “Believe me, it really is.”
“Can I... can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Where is Jane's mother?” she asked.
I figured she would have eventually asked about this subject. It was alright; as touchy as it was for me, I was prepared to talk to her about it.
“She was here last night... briefly.”
“Oh.” Vivienne sounded surprised. I imagined, perhaps, that she likely thought that Jane's mother was dead.
“Yeah. Susan – that's her name – she and her boyfriend, Ricky, they stopped by. They were both a little drunk, probably just got out of some damn nightclub.”