Banana Muffins & Mayhem - Culinary Competition Mystery #5

Chapter 13

(Carla)

Carla stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans as she walked past the bank of vending machines for the tenth time. Her husband was injured, lying on a bed in the emergency room where she had worked for over ten years. And she had been banished to the waiting room for being a distraction to the medical staff. The indignities of being a crazy, stressed-out wife.

The bullet had grazed Bruce's upper left arm, raggedly slicing the skin open but missing any major arteries. Her former coworkers were busy cleaning and stitching up the wound. They were fully capable professionals, and she knew that. But she couldn't silence her hypercritical side. Questioning every move the nurses and doctors made had gotten on everybody's nerves, including her own. Since she no longer worked at the hospital, the only thing she could do was hold her husband's hand, and apparently, she had been squeezing it so hard his fingers began going numb. Not being in charge of taking care of him was a bitter pill that was choking her, it seemed, literally. She was so tense that it felt as though her chest muscles wouldn't release enough to allow her to take a deep breath. If she kept on the same path, toward a full-blown anxiety attack, she too would end up in the emergency room.

As Carla turned and walked toward the windows facing the parking lot, she concentrated on filling her lungs with as much air as possible. Oxygen was a good thing. A woman with blonde hair who was weaving between the rows of parked cars was a dead ringer for Amy. But it couldn't be her. Carla hadn't told anybody about what was happening, except for her mother. Amy had enough to worry about with everything that was going on with the threats to Alex's business. She didn't need to add to the stress when Bruce only had an easily repaired flesh wound. The familiar-looking woman disappeared behind a van, so Carla turned around to trudge back to the vending machine area. Now she understood why the lanes between the rows of chairs in the waiting room were so wide. It allowed for more pacing space for loved ones waiting for updates.

"What's happening? Are you okay? How is Shepler doing?"

The barrage of questions shot Carla's heart rate into double time. She spun around to find Amy running toward her. Within seconds, she was locked into a bear hug that instantly calmed her frayed nerves while simultaneously making it even more difficult to breathe. She and Amy had been through so many ordeals. It was comforting to have her present, even though there was no real need for her help. When Amy released her, Carla shook her head. "He's fine. A bullet just grazed his arm. The injury amounts to a nasty cut. They're stitching him up right now, and then he can leave."

"Oh, thank goodness." Amy exhaled with a loud sigh. "Your mom called to tell me you were here after you dropped Macy off. Did you let her know what's going on now?"

Carla nodded. She blinked to try to keep the tears building in her eyes from leaking out. It had been a long time since she could count on her mother to help with anything in her life since she had been living on the other side of the world. It was a relief to know Macy was with her loving grandmother in a clean apartment. If it weren't for her, the baby would be camped out in the germ-filled waiting room too. "I called her a few minutes ago." She chuckled. "Macy tried to talk to me. I think everybody in the building must've heard her screech when I said hello."

"That's so sweet. She loves her momma." Amy squinted at her. She tilted her head to the side and said, "Shepler may be doing okay, but I can see you aren't. Do you want to talk about it?"

Amy's intuition was working exceptionally well. Carla had always admired her friend's ability to go with her gut feelings. Sometimes her decisions seemed impulsive, but most things worked out marvelously. How wonderful would it be to live life without overanalyzing everything? Carla looked past Amy, staring at the window behind her. Because she just wasn't capable of making eye contact.

"Do you want to go outside?" Amy asked. "I bet you could use some fresh air."

That was an understatement. She needed air in a bad way, fresh or not. "Sure. That sounds like a good idea."

Carla stopped at the check-in desk to let the receptionist know she was stepping outside for a few minutes. When the automatic door slid open, the hot air slammed into her. Had it been that warm when she ran into the ER? She locked her fingers together behind her neck and pulled down to try to release some of the tension that was making her shoulders ache. "I don't know why, but I can't stand to hang out in the emergency room anymore. I've spent so much of my life here, yet today, I feel like a caged animal. The controlled chaos I used to thrive on feels wrong and disorienting to me now."

"You weren't worried about your husband being shot for the majority of the time you worked here."

Once again, Amy's comments had pinpoint accuracy. Carla kicked a chunk of brown mulch which was on the sidewalk. The lump of tree bark tumbled over the cement before landing back in the flower bed where it had come from. "You're right. It's like I've completely blocked out the fact that he goes after killers with low levels of morality and compassion. Killing a cop to save themselves from going to prison probably isn't a difficult decision once they've already committed murder."

"Thinking about those kinds of things constantly would drive you crazy." Amy shrugged. "Not dwelling on them has let you be happy with your husband instead of worrying every second he's away from you that something bad will happen. It's a survival skill."

"Did you start some kind of advice column on your blog?" Carla wrapped her arm around Amy's shoulders and squeezed. "You are spouting some seriously good wisdom today."

"Really? That doesn't happen often, so I'm glad I can help. Because we both know I tend to go more for nonsensical rambling than solid advice."

They laughed as they paused in front of a small pond teeming with tiny silver fish. Carla stared at the dark water. "Coming here today, walking back into the mayhem and stress...I know I made the right decision to quit. But I'm not sure I can handle being a stay-at-home mom either. I feel like I'm lost. Nothing seems right. Maybe I'm just too sleep-deprived to think straight."

"Or maybe you haven't found your true calling for this point in your life."

Carla giggled. It was so odd to have the friendship tables turned. Amy raised her left eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"I have all kinds of wild ideas running through my head, and you're being completely practical. It feels like Topsy-Turvy Day. All I need to do is figure out how to cook, and our role reversal will be complete."

"I usually appreciate your sensibility checks, so I'm thrilled that I've been able to help you in the same way." Amy turned to face Carla instead of the pond. "Being a mom is a fantastic thing, but that is never a woman's entire life. You don't have to be just a nurse or just a stay-at-home mom, especially if you don't feel completely happy focusing on one thing. I liked cutting hair, but I never really felt satisfied until I began developing recipes. It's sort of like the perfect pair of shoes. Until you find them, you have no idea you could be so comfortable. It's just a matter of finding the right style and size."

"If that's the case, then I'm walking through the shoe store during a power outage. I can't see anything that appeals to me."

Amy held her hands out, palms up. "You know I'm always up for a shoe shopping trip. Maybe I can come up with a flashlight to help."