Chapter 48 - Unwrapped

Chapter 48: Chapter 48 - Unwrapped

A day after the surgery, Dr. Ramsey snipped the last strip of gauze and peeled it away from Jesse’s face.

"Hold still," she said. "Almost there."

Jesse sat on the edge of the hospital bed in a gray robe, gripping the mattress with both hands while the cool air of the room touched skin that had been covered for almost a day. It stung a little.

The VIP recovery suite looked more like a hotel room than anything else in the building. There was a king-sized bed with crisp white linens, a sitting area with two armchairs and a window overlooking the same little garden and stone fountain he’d seen from the lounge downstairs. The only signs it was a hospital were the IV stand in the corner, now disconnected, and the monitor that had beeped softly beside his head all night.

Dr. Kessler leaned in close and tilted Jesse’s chin toward the window with two fingers. He studied the bridge of Jesse’s nose, where a small white splint was taped in place, then turned his face slowly to the left and the right.

"Swelling’s about what I expected," he murmured. "Bruising under both eyes. That’ll get worse before it gets better. The septum looks good. The bridge is clean."

Ramsey shone a small penlight into each of Jesse’s eyes in turn.

"Follow the light," she said. "Up. Down. Left. Now right."

Jesse followed it. Both eyes moved together, smooth and in step.

Ramsey clicked off the penlight and smiled. It was the first time he’d seen her smile with her whole face.

"Perfect alignment," she said. "Both eyes are tracking together. Exactly where we wanted them."

Kessler stepped back, folded his arms and nodded with the quiet satisfaction of a man admiring a painting he’d made.

"Everything went beautifully, Mr. Byrne," he said. "Both procedures. No complications at all. Once the swelling goes down and you’re fully healed, I think you’ll be the best work either of us has ever done."

"Can I see?"

Ramsey hesitated, then handed him a small round mirror from the bedside tray.

"Don’t be alarmed by the bruising," she warned. "It looks much worse than it is."

Jesse raised the mirror.

The face looking back at him was swollen and purple-yellow under both eyes, with tape across the nose and the whites of his eyes shot through with red. He looked like he’d lost a fight.

But both eyes were looking straight back at him.

For thirteen years, every mirror he’d ever looked into had shown him one eye drifting toward his nose, as if it were trying to get away from the rest of his face. Now they sat side by side, pale blue-gray and steady, focused on the same point.

His throat went tight. He lowered the mirror before either of the doctors could see his hands shake.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Both of you."

"It was a pleasure," Ramsey said, and she sounded like she meant it.

Jesse set the mirror on the tray.

He could feel the One-Time Full Recovery waiting in the back of his mind, ready the moment he called on it. He could wipe away the swelling, the bruises and the soreness in an instant.

He’d thought about doing it in the middle of the night, lying awake with his face throbbing under the bandages. He’d decided against it. Two of the best surgeons in New York were going to unwrap him this morning, and if they found him completely healed less than a day after surgery, he’d become the most interesting patient they’d ever had. Doctors wrote papers about patients like that.

He’d use it at home, where nobody was watching.

"I’d like to be discharged this morning," he said.

Ramsey and Kessler exchanged a look.

"Mr. Byrne," Ramsey said carefully, "we’d strongly prefer to keep you at least one more night. You’ve had two procedures in under twenty-four hours. You’ll need cold compresses every hour, eye drops on a strict schedule, and someone to monitor you for bleeding or signs of infection. It isn’t safe for you to—"

"I’ve hired private nurses," Jesse said. "Medical staff, at home, around the clock. They’ll handle the compresses, the drops and everything else on your list. I’ll follow every instruction you give me."

"That’s not the same as being here."

"I know." He kept his voice calm. "But I’d still like to go home."

Ramsey studied him with her lips pressed together. Kessler was the first to give in. He shrugged.

"He’s a grown man, Helen. And the vitals are good."

Ramsey sighed, the way she probably sighed at every patient who knew better than she did.

"Fine," she said. "But you’ll sign a release before you leave. It states that you were advised to stay and chose to go against medical advice." She pressed a button by the bed. When a nurse appeared in the doorway, she said, "Could you bring Mr. Temple the AMA discharge form, please?"

Jesse almost forgot that was him.

"And Mr. Byrne," Kessler added, already heading for the door, "have you called whoever’s picking you up?"

"I’ll do it right now."

"Good. You’re not walking out of here alone."

The two doctors left. The door clicked shut behind them.

Jesse picked up his phone from the bedside table. He found the number he’d saved from the details Nolan gave him on Carrie Morton.

It rang twice.

"Hello?" Carrie’s voice was cautious. She clearly didn’t have his number saved.

"Carrie. It’s Jesse."

He heard a sharp little breath on the other end of the line.

"Jesse? Hi. I didn’t... Is everything okay?"

"Can you drive?"

There was a pause.

"What?"

"Can you drive a car? Do you have a license?"

"I... yes," she said, thrown. "I mean, I have a license. I don’t have a car, but I can drive. Why?"

"Good. I need you to come pick me up."

"Pick you up? From where?"

"McQuise Hospital. Upper East Side. Come now."

"Hospital? Jesse, what happened? Are you—"

He hung up.

He set the phone back on the bedside table and leaned back against the pillows, wincing as his nose throbbed.

Then he smiled, carefully, so it wouldn’t hurt.