Finding Maggie (Remade)

What the Good Lord Giveth

The next morning, Maggie felt worlds better. Her headache had vanished sometime in the night while she slept, leaving her refreshed and ready for the new day. It seemed rather silly in the daylight, when most late-night ideas do somehow magically turn into imaginative farces, that Maggie had ever entertained the idea that Mikhail could ever have possibly been that creature from her nightmares.

Just before seven in the morning, two orderlies came in and informed Maggie that she was being moved. Her father had, according to them, gone and talked to the hospital's director not half an hour before and had paid for her to be moved into one of the suites which were usually meant for long-term care patients or the terminally-ill.  Maggie, being one who did not like to cause a scene unless she was in the courtroom, informed the orderlies that it was completely unnecessary and that she was happy to stay where she was. They, however, ignored her and she was promptly rolled down the hall, sent up two floors via the elevator, and was then resettled into a room that looked like it belonged in a hotel rather than a hospital.

Then, with barely enough time for Maggie to regain her bearings, the nurse from the night before bustled her way in front of her recently relocated patient and set down a tray of what was most likely breakfast. (Although by the look of it, it could have easily been leftovers someone had dug out of a dumpster somewhere and repurposed.) Maggie couldn't care less, however, as the moment the food and her eyes connected her stomach immediately informed her that she was starving and insisted that she pick up the fork on the tray and dig in, no matter how gross it looked.

"Now you be goin' to be eatin' d'at," the nurse ordered, planting her two cask sized fists on her barrel sized hips.

Maggie give her a flat look, with her mouth already stuffed with something that at one time had been pancakes. "Mm amm!" she defended.

The nurse gave her no indication that she cared. "I be commin' back 'ere in ten minutes an' d'at plate bed'er be emp'dy. You be too t'in if you as' me. Now, I don' care if you be som' 'igh an' migh'dy law'er, struttin' your stuff wit' all your money and fancy cars. Gitt'n your daddy to pay for you to take up all d'is nice space which be meant for d'e dyin' folks."

Maggie, of course, had done none of these things but her mouth was too full for her to properly make her case against the crazy woman.

"Now you eat an' I be back."

Once the nurse had left, Maggie made quick work of her meal. Just to be on the safe side, she used her knife to scrape up the few remaining crumbs and licked them down. Her plate was spotless. So there, she thought with a rueful smile, yell at me for that!

Then, with a few minutes to spare before the impending return of the bossy woman, Maggie dragged her purse over from where the orderlies had left it at the foot of her bed and pulled out her cellphone. There were two missed calls from Matt dated from the night before and one from Jessie with a subsequent ten minute long voice mail. She'd call them back later as both were probably going to be very long talks. Instead, Maggie called her father. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, there's my girl!" he cheered as a greeting. "How are you? Feeling better?"

"Hi, Daddy, yes, I'm okay."

"Have they moved you yet?" In the background, Maggie could hear the loud traffic of the city and figured he was probably on his way into the office.

"Yes. You really didn't have to do that though."

"Don't worry about that," Bruce chastised. "You just worry about getting better. I'm on my way into the office for a little bit and then I was going to swing by and see you around lunchtime. Can I get you anything before I come over?"