Dig Two Graves Ch. 02

Preface: This is a fictional story intended for adult audiences. This story is about vengeance and adultery. There is no sex in this chapter.

Sunday 5:16 PM

"Just between you and me Mr. Vickers, I don't believe a quarter of what they've been saying," Nurse Bishop confides.

"I see ma'am," I respond with a smile as she backs me out into the corridor. "Are you sure I can't just walk out of here ma'am? I sure do feel funny making you go to all this trouble when I'm about twice your size."

"Don't you fret about that Mr. Vickers, I've handled fellas your size my whole life and I'm guessing I'll be still be handling them for quite a while yet."

"I have no doubts about that ma'am," I nod sincerely. "And I would appreciate it if you would call me Jake."

"You seem way too nice a man to be caught up in all they say," She continues. I smile as I know she's just twisting the conversation back to dig up any more juicy tidbits.

I really don't mind. Even those of us that don't work inside hospitals are familiar with how infamous their grapevines are. From what the doctor told me I'm sure I was the talk of the ward for several days. I don't say anything further and I'm smiling inside, knowing the matronly nurse is about to bust a gut. She's been nothing short of my own mother this entire weekend taking care of me while I recover.

My mind drifts for a moment recalling my conversation yesterday morning with the doctor who admitted me Friday night. Some of the details escape me as I was still a big groggy from the anesthesia. My memory does focus on a few salient points:

"Your left testicle will recover fully, it's just a bit swollen and should be fine in a day or two. Your right testicle is another story. The arterial tear deprived it of a direct blood supply. It's fortunate you got here quickly after the injury occurred otherwise you would have lost it for sure. Even now I only give a fifty-fifty chance of getting partial function restored."

"What do you mean by partial?"

"If the blood flow continues to improve within the testicle, it should likely resume about half the sperm and hormone production. My major concern is that if the blood flow does not improve the gland will atrophy. In this case I would strongly recommend we remove it."

I swallow. "But you think it will improve?"

"I believe there is an even chance. I like to be optimistic with my patients but I don't want to fill you with false hope. I wouldn't advise doing anything strenuous for the next few weeks and especially refrain from sex. You need to rest and take it easy until I've had a chance to clear you for more activity."

I nod.

"How did you become injured Mr. Vickers?" He asks.

I glance up at his face searching to see if this was really a medical question or a hunt for gossip material. I decide on the former yet see no reason to fully disclose what happened. "I'm not a hundred percent sure Doc. I think I blacked out and I don't really remember much."

"What do you remember?" He presses.

Thinking for a moment I say "I think I got twisted up in an unusual sexual position with my wife and something went totally wrong."

He jotted a few notes in his chart and glances up and holds my vision, his pen poised over his chart. "Would you like to tell me what really happened?"

With the best attorney face I respond "that's what I think did happen."

He continues to stare at me for a few more moments and then jots a few more notes in his chart. I take the opportunity to turn the tables.

"How did I get here Doc?"

"You don't know?" He responds with surprise.

I shake my head. "First thing I remember was waking up here this morning," I say truthfully.

"From what has been written in your chart and from what I been briefed by the emergency staff, I believe your wife dropped you off at the emergency entrance in a comatose state.

"You believe?" I question.

"Yes. A man and a woman carried you into the emergency room. You were wearing only your boxer shorts and a robe. They stayed only long enough to say you had been injured in the groin. The two of them left and the woman returned a few moments later with a gym bag that contained clothing. She dropped the bag next to you and then tossed your wallet on top, saying you had an insurance card somewhere inside of your wallet. She then disappeared back outside. The emergency room staff sprang into action and immediately starting treating you."

"What makes you think it was my wife?"

"Only because one of the orderlies ran outside to try and catch the woman so that she could be asked more questions about your condition. He overheard an argument between the woman and the man she was with, and the man referred to you as her husband."

I sigh and lie back in my bed. "Have there been any calls for me?"

"You'll have to check with the nurses." He stares at me for a moment, his quivering pen still poised above my chart.

"You were brought in with what proved to be semen all over the side of your face." He adds matter-of-factly, his pen still poised and waiting.

I look up at him askance. "I told you it was a very unusual position."

He stares back for a bit with one eyebrow raised. "So you did," he finally says. "I think that's enough for now. You realize you're going to have a lot of swelling, especially on the right side? I expect the swelling to last at least another week and that's if the blood supply improves as I hope. Swelling of that type and duration is normal for the type of injury you sustained. We have you on some mild pain medication, but I'm afraid when the anesthetic completely wears off you will be quite uncomfortable. Worse, urination will cause you even more discomfort. It's important that you stay on as low of dose of pain medication as possible. I gave you a rather strong dose of codeine but I want to switch you over to plain aspirin. The aspirin will not be as effective in pain relief but it will help the thin your blood and hence improve blood supply. But don't hesitate to let me know if it's unbearable? For now, it will help if you keep from moving." He lays a hand on my upper arm. I look up at him attentively. "Let me know if it's more than you can stand," he repeats with emphasis.

As Nurse Bishops wheels me toward the entrance, I think to myself, "and he wasn't kidding." My mind drifts back to other events that occurred the previous day:

They ran an IV drip and I got to the point where I just had to go to the bathroom or I was going to piss myself. Funny, up to that point I had been afraid to look at my cock and balls. They told me they were going to be OK. Well at least on the left side and they had high hopes for the right. At the time being that was good enough for me. But the doctor's warning about urination had me worried and I was trying to hold it as long as possible. I finally couldn't wait any longer and started to try and get out of bed. The burst of pain quickly told me I was going to need help. I pushed the call button and Nurse Bishop was Johnny-on-the-spot. I told her that I needed to urinate and needed help. She laughed said I didn't need any help and to go ahead and piss. I raised both eyebrows in question and she whipped back the sheet covering me. There snaking out of my hospital gown was a tube leading to a bag fastened to the side of my bed. I smiled and nodded in understanding. I was a bit embarrassed with her standing there so I reached down and pulled the sheet back up and relaxed my bladder.

I almost passed out again. Never had I felt pain like that. Well, maybe Friday night but this seemed as bad. The only mercy was that once the flow started the pain started to subside. I closed my eyes in a mixture of pain and bladder relief. A sudden coolness touched my forehead and I opened my eyes to see Bishop applying a wrung out wet cloth. She told me it wouldn't be anywhere as bad the next time and thank God she was right.

"That's awful nice of you to say that ma'am," I acknowledge. "You've been a blessing this entire weekend and I can't thank you enough."

"You needed a little help but not too much. I don't believe it does any good to coddle."

"Neither do I ma'am," as she wheels me into main reception area. I gingerly get out of the wheel chair to sign a few forms and turn to thank you one last time.

"No you don't young man," she says firmly patting the wheel chair. "You know as well as I do you have to be wheeled all the way to the door. You trying to get me fired?"

I laugh. "No ma'am, I was just trying to avoid sitting."

She laughs herself and holds the chair steady for me as I sit back down, even more gingerly than I got up. She pushes me the last few yards and suddenly a man in a suit appears directly in front of us, causing Nurse Bishop to stop suddenly.

"Jacob Vickers?" He asks.

I don't recognize him yet he seems familiar. "Who wants to know?" I respond.

"Are you Jacob Vickers?" He repeats.

"I might be," I respond non-committal.

He laughs. "We both know you are Vickers," he says and drops an envelop package in my lap. "You've been served," he adds and quickly turns and disappears. I wince more from the expectation of pain than from the reality.

"Well of all the nerve ..." I hear my nurse chime behind me.

I stare at the package, all too familiar with this type of delivery. My hands start to shake as I begin to pick up the envelope. I stop and grip the chair for a moment and try a second time. This time my hands are a bit steadier and I open the seal on the package. The thinness of the package is a little reassuring and I slide the sheath of papers out of the envelope.

"Whatever it is Jake," Nurse Bishop says behind me using my nickname for the first time. "I hope it's not as bad as it looks."

"It's a TRO," I breathe a sigh of relief. "It's not great news, but it's not as bad as I thought it might be," I think to myself.

"What's a TRO Jake?" Bishop asks.

"Temporarily Restraining Order," I reply quietly. "I'm not allowed within 300 yards of my house or within my wife's office building."

"Oh shit son," she says. "But it could have been worse couldn't it?"

"Yes it could ma'am."

"This means your wife's not picking you up?"

"I wasn't expecting her. I wasn't able to get a hold of her at all this weekend."

"I'm sorry to hear that Jake, so who is coming to pick you up?" She asks as she wheels me out the door.

She locks the chair and I repeat my gingerly escape. "I didn't call anyone else ma'am."

"Jake you can't go home alone," she says stopping when she realizes the implications of what she said.

I laugh to put her at ease. "That's for certain ma'am. I'll be just fine don't you worry. Someone told me that I don't need to be coddled. I'll take a cab to downtown and get a hotel room until I can figure out a few things."

She smiles and a tear begins to form in the corner of her eye. I wipe it away and thank her again for all her care. Wearing the rumpled up suit I wore Friday night, which had been crammed inside the gym bag, I carefully step to the curb and hail a cab.

Sunday 6:18 PM

"What do you mean it's declined?" I inquire incredulously.

"I'm sorry sir, but it won't take that card."

I stare at the hotel clerk. There is no use yelling at him. Calming down I take back my American Express card and give him the VISA. "Try this one," I encourage.

He gives me a grim smile and accepts the card. I glance in my wallet. After paying the $25 dollar taxi from the hospital to downtown, and then a tip on top of that, I have barely $50 in cash left.

"I'm sorry sir, but this one is declined too."

I'm not surprised; in fact I expected this result even as I gave him the second card. I thank him for his effort and turn from the desk. I can feel the eyes of the clerks staring into my back as I walk away. I feel unclean, as if I have financial leprosy. I walk to the corner of the Courtyard by Marriott hotel.

"Fortunately I have plenty of minutes on my cell phone," I think with a laugh. I dial the customer service number off the back of my American Express card. After wading through about half-a-dozen options on their call answering system, I finally am connected to a real person. The customer service representative confirms my fear. Our joint card was cancelled yesterday. I inquire as to what would be required to have a new account opened in just my name. One of the things I do enjoy about American Express, their service is impeccable. Using my home address, within a few minutes I have a brand new account but I can't use it until tomorrow. By luck the main American Express office in Dallas is located a few floors within the same building I work. I request they expedite delivery of the card to their office in Dallas where I can pick it up tomorrow.

One mystery solved but a problem still remains. I have no lodging for the evening. Spying an ATM across the street at a bank I think, "Sometimes there's no substitute for cash."

Although a quiet a bit slower than normal, I finally navigate my way across the street to the ATM machine via a half-block walk down the block to a light and back again. I slide my card in half expecting it to eat it. To my pleasant surprise it accepts my PIN and I almost press the button to make a withdrawal when a nagging sensation tells me to check the balance first. With a sigh I look at the sum total of our bank account, a little over three dollars.

Two mysteries solved and two problems now exist. I have no cash and I still have no shelter for the evening.

I shiver as a cold winter breeze penetrates my suit jacket. It pains me to do this but there are times when one has to depend on one's family. I slip my cell phone out of my pocket and enter the number for my parents.

"Hi Mom," I speak when I hear her voice. There's a brief silence and then I can hear the phone being set down. In the background I hear Mom yell for my Dad that "your son is on the line."

"Jake," I finally hear gruffly. I sigh a small relief, the gravelly voice of my father at least sounds the same.

"Hey Dad," I reply.

"I'm guessing you're in a world of hurt down there boy. What in hell has gotten into you?"

"I take it Susie has called you?" I ask.

"Yesterday morning. We couldn't believe it. I still can't but she says she has you dead to right."

"Dad don't believe it. I know less what's going on than what you probably do. But I can tell you one thing, I didn't sleep with Heidi."

"That's your secretary?"

"She's my Administrative Assistant, yes."

"Same difference. Susie says she's got a statement from this secretary and pictures to boot. I don't see how you're getting around this one Jake. Sometimes it's best to take your medicine and get it over with."

"I agree with you Dad. But I'm not going to own up to something I haven't done."

"You're saying these pictures are a lie? This secretary's out to get you?"

"Dad I really don't know but I can't believe for a minute that Heidi would be behind any of this. I wish I knew more but I don't. What I do know is that I did not sleep with my secretary."

A long silence ensues. I can almost hear my Dad thinking it over.

"Jake, have you cheated on Susie?" He asks me straight out.

"God as my witness Dad, I've never even thought about it. Sure I've seen some pretty young things and maybe flirted for a bit, but nothing even remotely serious."

Another long silence ensues. Finally he says, "Jake, I remember when you were about 14 and I caught you up in a big whopper. I whooped your ass then, and I'm not too old to come down there and whoop your ass again. I don't think you're lying but God help you if you are boy."

"Dad," I sigh with relief. "I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me to have just heard that."

"You're still in a world of hurt boy."

"Yeah but it helps knowing I got at least one person in my corner. I take it Mom's not very happy about all of this?"

"Don't worry about your mother. She took Susie's side right off the bat. I have to admit I did too when she told us what she has on you. I know you're a big fancy corporate talker, but you're going to have to spin some dillies to get out of this. No, I'll talk to your mother. But when you get a few things figured out down there don't forget to give us a call."

"Thanks Dad. Now I hate to do this but I need some help," as I slowly start making my way back to the Marriott.

"I figured. She told us she was going to drain the accounts because she thought you would siphon everything out of them. How much do you need?"

"She thought I would drain the accounts huh? So instead she decided to do it first? Did she tell you she cancelled all of our credit cards too?" I shake my head wondering where the hell my wife had gone and what alien has taken her place. "Well, first I need a place to stay the night. I won't have any credit until tomorrow so I would like to walk back to a hotel and have you talk to them and pay for the room."

"That's not such a big deal. I can handle that."

"That's not all Dad."

"I figured I wasn't going to get off that easy."

"It's going to take a bit of money to figure out what the hell is going on. I figure ten thousand dollars. Can you wire it to me?"

"Ten thousand fucking bucks! What the hell are you planning on doing? Hire the entire fucking Texas Rangers?"

I hear a voice yelling in the background and I wince for my Dad.

"Now look at what you did. Now I got your Mom on my keester."

"She'll get over it Dad. You can wire the money though?"

"Sure I can but you really need that much?"

"I don't know how much I will need. But it ought to be enough."

"I should say so."

"Dad, I really appreciate this."

"Wait 'til you get my bill. One thing more boy."

"What Dad?"

"You go see Bud. Tomorrow. First thing."

"Hmmm, that may be good advice."

"You expected other?" My Dad offers.

I laugh. The first really good laugh I've had in a few days.

Sunday 9:29 PM

As I start to take off my clothes for a shower when my cell phone rings.

Picking it up, I glance at the number half expecting it to be my Dad letting me know how the wire transfer was coming. The appearance of Susie's number makes my heart skip a beat. OK, it skips several beats and for several reasons

"Susie, I – I'm a bit surprised you called."

"Jake this isn't a social call and I'm not going to get into a discussion with you now. Just meet me tomorrow in my office at 9:30."

"Just exactly how am I going to do that? What if I can't possibly make that time?"

"You will if you want to talk."

"Susie I'll do whatever to meet you at 9:30 but you know better than I do I can't meet you at your ... Fuck!" I stop when I hear the line go dead. "Just who the fuck does she think she is!"

Furiously I enter the letters "TRO you bitch!" and pause with my thumb over the button to text it to her. I close my eyes and slowly count backwards from ten. When I get to zero I delete the last two words and simply text the first three letters to her.

Fifteen minutes pass before my cell phone rings again.

"Forget about the TRO?" I ask her.

"Yes, but it doesn't make a difference. We can still meet at my office. With my schedule I don't think I have time to meet anywhere else."

"I'm not meeting at your office," I respond simply, trying to keep all emotion out of my voice.

"Why not?" It's near your office and practically the most convenient place to meet."

"You have to have why? I'm not placing myself in jeopardy, that's why. I'm not going to violate the TRO."

"The TRO would only be an issue if I made it one. Since I'm inviting you I don't see where the problem is."

"I sure as hell do. You're a prosecutor. You have a TRO filed against me which includes your office. The police department building is right next door. You just ambushed me in the most heinous way 48 hours ago. What possible assurance can you give me that I'm not walking into another trap like Friday?"