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chapter 3

"Fuck! You're having a heart attack!" The woman sat up, and two rather attractive breasts bounced on her chest. She was failing miserably at trying to hold back laughter. My vision was drifting in and out which made the whole situation surreal. I fell backward, half in and half out of the water. She grabbed my phone before it got wet. "Mr. Private Beach needs a doctor." She laughed into the phone and threw it over her shoulder into the water. The last thing I remember was her Spanish laughter as she straddled my stomach.

I awoke in a quiet beige and white sanitized room. I could barely hear movement and muffled conversations beyond the door. My memory came back slowly. I survived. I moved my arm and leg, and the numbness was gone. That was a good sign. I tried to sit up and decided it wasn't worth the effort. Still a bit weak. I closed my eyes again and was soon fast asleep.

"Mr. Dake... Mr. Dake?" A woman's voice woke me from my sleep. "Good morning, Mr. Dake," she added when my eyes opened. It was a nurse, dressed in a blue set of smocks. "You're in St. Vincent's. You experienced a sudden cardiac arrest." No shit, I thought. Even the naked lady on the beach knew that. "Dr. Heller wanted me to wake you up before he began his rounds." She checked an IV bag that was attached to my arm. "Would you like to sit up?"

"Yes." I said a bit hoarsely. I was feeling a bit vulnerable fully on my back. She adjusted the bed a bit and then helped me raise my shoulders.

"I'll get you some freshwater." She grabbed a pitcher that was next to the bed and headed out the door. At least I had a private room. The walls seemed thick enough so I didn't feel crushed by the number of people that were obviously in the building. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.

She returned with a full pitcher and a cup with a built-in lid and straw. It looked a little juvenile, but I was pretty thirsty. She filled the cup and placed it in my hand. For a second there, I thought she was going to hold the cup to my lips so I kind of fumbled the handoff. Good thing it had a lid. I took a few sips and relieved my dry throat.

"Do you have any questions?" She looked at me quizzically. I wasn't sure what to ask. I felt kind of like I had to ask something.

"Yes! How did I get here?" It was simple enough and showed I wasn't completely without my wits.

"I wasn't here last night, but I understand you were brought in by helicopter." She said pointing to the roof. "You were very lucky. I understand you flat-lined in transit, but the paramedics were able to revive you. Dr. Heller will have to explain the treatment you received once you arrived. He should be here in a few minutes." Fuck, I died

in a helicopter. As if on cue, the doctor wearing the same color smocks as the nurse walked in with a clipboard.

"Good morning Mr. Dake." This was getting a bit repetitive. "It's good to see you awake." I felt the need to respond.

"Good morning." I said. A lot of my hoarseness was gone.

"I'm Dr. Heller, and I was the attending physician when you came in last night." He looked up from the clipboard. "You had a very close call. Luckily you had some good first aid." He went over to a terminal on the wall that was wired to a clip on my left finger. After playing with the settings a bit he returned his face to mine again. "We were unable to locate a next of kin so I had to accept that Molli..." he looked at his clipboard "Rose was acting in your interest."

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"Yes, she always does." I said carefully.

"You were stung on the foot by a jellyfish." He was looking at me closely. "You had a rather strong allergic reaction and your heart stopped. Usually these things are just uncomfortable, but reactions like yours are not completely uncommon."

"I don't remember going into the water." I tried hard to think back.

"Actually, the animal can remain quite potent a few days

after death. You could have just stepped on one on the beach." He leaned over the bed and disconnected the clip on my finger. I remembered the sting when I was adjusting that damn umbrella.

"Are there any lasting effects?" I wiggled my toes again to make sure they were still working right.

"No." He chuckled. "At least not normally. Some Benadryl for the symptoms. The toxin flushes itself out in a few days. Believe it or not, we're only going to keep you overnight. Once we make sure you won't relapse, we'll release you." He was pretty cheerful sounding. "You should be able to continue with your life as normal, but I would recommend you see a cardiologist in a week just to make sure there is no permanent damage." Wow, drive-through medicine.

"Thanks, Doctor." I wasn't sure if there was a protocol for what to say to someone who saved your life. I was afraid to add any embellishments that might sound fake. He just patted me on the shoulder.

"I'll see you before you leave tomorrow." He walked out to continue his rounds.

"Molli Rose is waiting outside to see you. Do you feel up to a visitor?" The nurse smiled like it was a good thing. I wasn't excited about seeing her in my weakened state, but I am sure she was instrumental in my survival.

"Yes, of course." I tried to smile because I felt the nurse expected me to. I hated dealing with people. Everything felt uncomfortable. Good thing I was going home tomorrow. She opened the door and waved Molli in on her way out.

"I understand you're going home tomorrow." Molli didn't say hello. God she was easy to talk to.

"Yes. I guess I have you to thank for the helicopter and private room." I almost died. I have to thank someone or they might just let me go next time.

"Actually, it is Mia Perez you need to thank. You will get the bill for my services." She wasn't smiling just all business.

"Mia Perez?" I couldn't place the name.

"Mia was the woman who performed CPR on you for over fifteen minutes. They found her naked and quite high on heroin pumping away on you. They tell me it is the only reason you survived." She almost seemed angry about my survival.

"Should I give her some money or something?" I again wasn't sure of the protocol in these matters.

"You would give money to a junky? Might as well put a

gun to her head." Molli seemed pissed for some reason. I was a little shocked at her tone. "It cost a lot, but she is currently recuperating in your house. It took a long time to convince the police not to book her for grand theft and heroin use." Why did Molli's eyes seem to be so strained? "You are buying a replacement boat to make sure she avoids grand theft."

"I didn't steal the damn boat. I'm not buying a new one." Who does Molli think she is? "What do you mean I have a junky in my house?" Now I was getting pissed. Molli wasn't deterred.

"Look asshole, you screwed up my tenth-anniversary trip to outfit the house." Her hands were becoming animated. "I was literally dragged out of bed when I was making it up to my husband when your heart stopped. We weren't sleeping if you know what I mean." She was being a bit louder than usual. I didn't even know she was married. "If Charlie leaves me, or Ms. Perez ends up in jail or back on the street," she ticked off her points on her fingers, "I will never answer your call again." She ended up with her hands on her hips.

I was shocked by her tirade. She worked for me, didn't she? I almost told her to fuck off, but the thought of life without Molli was a depressing one. I calmed down.

Money was always easy to get. "Okay, okay, I'll buy the boat and pay for rehab." That should take care of it. I quickly had a finger-wagging in my face.

"No, no, Mister Selfish. You will be solely responsible for her rehabilitation. No hiring your way out of it." She had a very determined look on her face. "She saved your life, God only knows why, and you owe her more than a brush-off." She was trying to screw up my life. "You were lucky enough to be handed a junky that knew CPR when you needed it. Now you have to deal with it."

"What the hell do I know about handling a heroin addict?" I was confused about why she thought this would even work.

"There is a Dr. Williams taking care of her right now. He is a detox specialist that you are paying a lot of money for. Ask him." Her hands were back on her hips.

"This has gone far enough." It was time to put my foot down. "I don't want a junky or anyone else in my house, and I am certainly not going to play social worker." Let's see if she is willing to give up on my paychecks. She called my bluff.

"Fine! Then this is the last conversation we will ever have." Her voice was quiet and her expression had lost the

anger. She turned and walked toward the door. I was about to let her go when visions of the hundreds of people I would need to deal with flashed before my eyes. Molli was irreplaceable as far as I knew. Life would begin to really suck.

Before her hand hit the doorknob I relented. "Molli..." She turned toward me. "I'll do it!" I felt like I was ten years old finally conceding to clean my room.

"Yes, Mr. Dake." She smiled and headed out the door. No need for goodbyes.