My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center Drunk monkey makeup
Quinn Ah Sun was telling his father and the nurse that he'd slept well, thanks to the painkiller he'd been given, but it sure gave him some dreams, and he glanced over at his cousin Lily, who was quickly rearranging her clothing. She knew what Uncle Mits had seen when the nurse threw open the door to Quinn's room. She was in no mood to deal with the uncle she hadn't seen in 21 years until yesterday, and who apparently resented her presence here.
"I've gotta go see what's up with Lance," she said. "But I'll see you later, Quinn." She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.
Lily stepped into the hallway, closed the door and slumped against the wall. She took a deep breath, then two, three. Her feelings for Quinn were overpowering. He was all that she wanted, and she wanted all of him. If Uncle Mits had walked in a few minutes later ... no telling what he might have seen. Lily was still leaning there, taking deep breaths, trying to get herself together, when a nurse stopped. "Ma'am, can I help you?"
"What?" Lily said, taking a moment to come back from her reverie. "Oh, I'm fine." She straightened up. "Just catching my breath."
"OK," the nurse said and departed with a lingering look at Lily's lips.
Lily took the compact from her purse, checked the mirror. Omigod, it appeared that a drunken monkey had applied her lipstick. Well, serious kissing will give you that look. Heart fluttering at the memory, she reached for some tissue and headed for the elevator.
>> The former stripper Serena Kawainui was so unaccustomed to promises fulfilled, it didn't even register last night when that cop with the funny name said he'd be back to see her. What with the drugs, she wouldn't have remembered at all if he hadn't just walked into her room and said, "Here I am, as promised."
"What's your name again?" She winced. Speaking was difficult with all of the stitches in the right side of her face.
He pulled a card from his wallet, she took it with the hand that wasn't in a cast. The card featured a golden HPD badge. "Gomes. Sherlock Gomes. Detective."
And then Serena remembered, Gomes was asking her about Donovan when she suddenly had a miscarriage and lost not only Donovan's baby, but all ties to him.
"We don't have to talk today," Gomes said. "I just wanted to see how you're doing. I know it was a pretty tough day yesterday."
Serena had never much cared for cops, but she heard kindness in his voice, and decided to trust this Sherlock Gomes. Or maybe it was just that there was no one else in the world for her. "We can talk now."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com