“Would that be the grey thing you were wearing under your jacket?” Rose nodded. “I’m afraid the doctor in the emergency room cut that to pieces when they were treating you.”
“Oh.” Another crestfallen look. “They charge eight dollars for ruined smocks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Veronica said, not fully understanding how important the small sum of money was to the young woman. To Rose, that was her weekly allotment for groceries, almost half of which went to cat food. Through her drug filled haze, a thought came to her.
“Tabitha!” She exclaimed. “Oh my god, someone has to take care of Tabitha.”
“Would that be your cat?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I found your key in your wallet and went to your apartment hoping to find a name or number of someone to contact for you.”
“Did you feed her?” Her concern that someone was in her run down apartment was overshadowed by her worry over the one thing that brought some kind of joy to her life.
“Yes I did,” Veronica replied as Rose turned away, letting a long silence form between them. A lone tear made its way down the young woman’s cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?
Do you need me to call the nurse?” Veronica’s hand was already reaching for the call button.
“No,” the young woman sniffed, wiping away the errant tear. “It’s just that…” She sniffled again,
“…if I’m not there to take care of Tabitha, they’re going to take her away.”
“No no no. No one’s going to take Tabitha away from you. I promise. In fact, she’s at my house right now. She can stay with me until you’re all settled.” Veronica’s heart lurched with the thought of how easily she had destroyed Rose’s life. In one move she had cost the young woman her job, her home, and far more pain than anyone deserved to have. Now she was sitting there, lying to her in order to protect herself. “I swear no one will take Tabitha away.”
“I…I can write you a check for her food. She doesn’t eat much. She’s very friendly.” The words rolled out of Rose’s mouth and there was no way that the older woman could miss the desperation in her voice.
“Don’t worry about it. Please, I want you to concentrate on getting better. Tabitha will be fine with me. I live alone, I’m sure I’ll enjoy the company.”
The dark haired woman was about to say something else when a firm knock on the door caused them to turn. Veronica’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the blue uniform and shiny badge.
“Excuse me ladies. I’m here to take a report on the hit and run last night?” He stepped in and pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket. “You’re Rose Grayson, right?” He continued on without waiting for an answer. “Now I understand this happened on Madison Ave. around midnight?”
“I think it was more like twelve thirty,” Rose said.
“Yes, twelve thirty,” he repeated. “Now is there anything you can tell me, like the make and model of the car that hit you, the license number, the color?”
“No, I never saw it.” She turned her head toward Veronica. “Do you remember?”
“You were there too?” The officer queried. No one had told him there were any witnesses.
“I um…I must have come upon her just after the accident. I didn’t see anyone.”
“That sure was a hell of a storm last night. What were you doing out so late, Miss…?”
“Cartwright, Veronica Cartwright. I had a business dinner with Commissioner Grace at Sam’s and was heading home.”
“Cartwright, as in the car wash Cartwrights?”
“Yes, among other holdings,” she replied, annoyed that after all her hard work the most well known part of her company was the cousin’s stupid car washes.
“Well then…” He turned his attention back to the victim lying in bed. “I guess you’re pretty lucky to have had her come up on you. Looks like they hit you pretty good. Probably a drunk driver. Hard to believe the bastard didn’t have the guts to stick around and make sure you got help but I guess all that matters is that you’re alive.”
“Yes, I was very lucky that Miss Cartwright came along when she did. Who knows how long I was lying there.”
“Well, if I could just get your address and phone number for the report, we’ll be all set. I have to tell you that there isn’t much to go on so don’t get your hopes up. Unless this guy is stupid enough to be driving around with a lot of front end damage and admits to being on Madison last night, there’s not really much we can do.”
“I understand,” Rose said quietly. She didn’t expect them to find the man that hit her. “I don’t have a phone but my address is 98 Morris Street.” Veronica’s emotions alternated between relief at having such a disinterested cop investigating the accident and guilt at the fact that she was lying to protect her own skin at the expense of Rose’s peace of mind.
“Well, I guess if there’s anything I missed, we can find you here. From the looks of your legs I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere for a while.” Veronica bristled at the comment but Rose appeared unaffected.
“Thank you,” the young woman said. The cop turned toward the door and noticed a friend of his walking down the hall.
“Hey John, wait up. Ladies, thank you. I’m sure I have all I need right now.” He was gone before either could respond.
“They’re not going to find him, you know,” Rose said quietly. “I know life isn’t like television. They don’t even know what kind of car to look for.” She shifted slightly, grimacing at the pain that was now her constant companion. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she sighed. “The damage is done. Even if they did find him it wouldn’t make my legs heal any faster.”
Veronica didn’t know what to say and was grateful when the television vendor walked in. “Good afternoon Miss…” She looked down at her clipboard. “Grayson. Would you like your TV turned on?”
“No thank you,” Rose said quickly.
“Why not?” Veronica asked, although she was certain she knew the answer.
“I don’t like television.”
“Uh huh.” The raven haired woman turned toward the vendor. “Turn it on and leave it on for as long as Miss Grayson is here.”
“It’s three dollars a day, twenty dollars per week.”
“Fine.” Veronica picked her attache off the floor and pulled out her wallet. “Here.” She handed the television woman two twenties.
“Very well.” She made a notation on her clipboard, then reached behind the TV and unlocked the attached box. A few seconds later the set hummed to life with Judge Judy yelling at the defendant on her courtroom style show.
“There, now you’ll have something to help you pass the time,” Veronica said after the vendor left.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Rose replied, feeling very uncomfortable. “I would have been fine without it. You were in my apartment. You know I don’t own a TV.” She sighed. “Besides, whatever they’re giving me for the pain makes me tired. I don’t know how much I would watch. Certainly not twenty dollars worth.”