Purrfect Secret

Chapter 37

Scarlett Canyon was playing a game of Solitaire. It was the only game installed on the computer in Dr. Tex’s office, and what Vesta must have been playing all these years while she pretended to be hard at work.

Frankly Scarlett was bored. The waiting room was empty. The phone hadn’t rung in ages, and Dr. Tex was ensconced in his office. When she took this job she figured she’d have some fun at Vesta’s expense. But dealing with patients all day long and listening to their sob stories and the details of their illnesses was so tedious she sometimes wanted to scream.

And then there was the fact that she’d been so dumb to volunteer for the job, so she didn’t even get paid to sit here and do the worst and most boring job in the whole world. She’d raised the topic of giving her a contract to Dr. Tex but he seemed immune to her promptings, pretending he didn’t understand.

A part of her had figured that working for a doctor she would get to meet a lot of great guys, that she would flirt a bit and maybe date some of the eligible ones but that hadn’t materialized either. So far all she’d gotten were a bunch of old coots who thought they were God’s gift to women and who ogled her boobs so brazenly she sometimes wished she could punch them in the snoot. But a receptionist didn’t punch patients in the snoot. A receptionist just sat there and beamed and entered appointments into Dr. Tex’s calendar.

No wonder Vesta looked like a shriveled old prune. Sitting in this dumb chair behind this dumb desk listening to dumb stories from dumb sick people would make anyone shrivel up and turn into an old hag. It was happening to her, too. She could feel it. Her face was drying out and new wrinkles were popping up each time she looked in the mirror.

It was bad for her karma, too. All this sickness and disease. Soon it would start to rub off on her and she would get sick herself. How Dr. Tex could stand it she didn’t even know.

The door opened and a new patient walked in. This one looking even more hopeless than the others. She had a bandage wrapped around her head, walked with a distinct stoop, had a pair of sunglasses firmly placed on her nose, and a scarf wrapped around the lower portion of her face. As she approached the desk, she even seemed to stagger.

“Can you please help me?” the woman asked in a weak whisper.

“Do you have an appointment?” Scarlett asked, barely managing to keep the annoyance from her voice.

“I want you to help me,” whispered the pathetic creature.

“Just take a seat and I’ll call the doctor,” she said.

Suddenly the woman opened the old coat she was wearing and revealed the dress she had on underneath. The dress was soaked with blood! “Take a look at this,” croaked the woman. “Does this look normal to you?”

Scarlett was one of those people who hated the sight of blood. In fact she abhorred it. She suddenly felt faint now, and a little woozy. “Is that… blood?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?” asked the woman. “I got up this morning with a pain in my chest. And when I looked there was all of this red stuff coming out of me.”

Scarlett watched, bug-eyed, as the blood seemed to be pouring out of the woman’s chest, pumping steadily, spurt after spurt.

“Just take a look, will you? I don’t feel so good. And if this is blood, why is it coming out of me when it should be staying in? Is that normal behavior for blood you think?”

“Doctor!” Scarlett yelled. “Doctor—I’ve got an emergency!”

“Just give me your best diagnosis,” said the woman. “Is this a bad thing?”

Just then, the woman uttered a gurgling sound, and collapsed on the floor.

“Doctor Tex!” Scarlett was yelling, then ran around the counter and knelt down next to the woman. She didn’t want to put her hands on her—all that blood!—but still had a quick peek. Where did all this blood come from? “Doctor Tex! I need you in here right now!”

And as she peeled back the layers of clothing with her fingernails, more blood pumped out. The woman was bleeding out! On the office floor! What a frickin’ mess!

Suddenly the woman drew down her scarf. Her lips moved. “Come… closer,” she whispered.

Scarlett drew closer.

“You gotta give me mouth-to-mouth,” the dying woman croaked.

Scarlett flapped her arms. “I don’t know how to give mouth to mouth!”

“If you don’t… I’ll die right here… right now,” the woman said weakly.

“Oh, no,” said Scarlett. “Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare die on me!”

The woman produced a terrible cough, and more blood was pouring out of her chest. “This is the end… Scarlett. You killed me… with your incompetence…”

She stared down at the patient. “What did you just say?”

“If I die now, it’s all your fault, Scarlett. You’re a murderer. You murdered me.”

She narrowed her eyes, then peeled back a layer of clothes and saw a plastic little contraption pinned to the inner layer with a clothespin. She picked at it with her nails and saw that it was a tiny hose, ‘blood’ spurting from it. With a disgusted sound, she gave it a good yank.

“Hey! You’re going to break the tube!” said Vesta Muffin, for that’s who the patient was. She’d taken off her glasses and was now glowering at Scarlett, who was glowering back.

“You miserable old woman!” Scarlett said.

“Who are you calling old? We’re the same age!”

Scarlett pulled at the plastic thingy and suddenly a baggie popped out from Vesta’s clothes, still half filled with a syrupy red liquid.

“Corn syrup and red food coloring,” said Vesta. “If it’s good enough for Hollywood, it’s good enough for me.”

“How dare you give me a scare like that!”

“I got you good, didn’t I?” said Vesta.

The door to the inner office opened and Tex walked out. “What’s with all the screaming?” When he caught sight of his mother-in-law on the floor, covered in blood, he did a double take. “Vesta? Oh, my God, are you hurt?”

“It’s fake!” Scarlett cried, holding up the bag and plastic tube. “She tricked me!”

“I didn’t trick you—I caught you!” said Vesta, now taking out her phone. “I got the whole thing on tape, missy.” She gestured with the phone. “This is going straight to the FBI. You’re going down for impersonating a doctor and practicing medicine without a license!”

“I wasn’t practicing medicine!” Scarlett screamed. “I was simply trying to help a dying woman!”

“Without a license! You’re going down! This is the end of you!”

“Vesta,” said Tex, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can I see you in my office? Now!”

“Don’t bother,” said Scarlett, grabbing her purse and hiking it up her shoulder. “I’m out of here. Consider this my resignation, Dr. Tex. I’ve had it up to here with this nonsense.” She turned to Vesta. “You won. I hate being a receptionist. I hate the smell of death and decay. I hate the doddering old fools who can’t take their eyes off my chest. I hate the blood and the disease and this boring, GODAWFUL job! Goodbye, Dr. Tex. Have a great life, Vesta.”

And with these words she stalked off towards the door, then out into the world beyond, and immediately felt the rush of relief. It told her she’d done the right thing.