She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel (40 page)

“Okay.”

“When Eddie was staying at my house, I couldn’t help but notice a nasty scar at the base of her neck. Does she have some kind of medical condition, previous surgery—what else is wrong with her? How bad is this really?”

It was odd hearing Eddie’s scar referred to as a medical condition. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you Slade.”

“T.J., if you know something—”

“Slade, I can’t. I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

T.J. hung up.

Slade went back to where the Katz waited, more apprehensive than before. As he approached, Raven asked, “What about Rachelle? Should we call her?”

“No,” Slade commanded, “Don’t say anything to anybody. We’re going to sit here and wait till a doctor comes and tells us exactly what’s going on. Just sit tight.”

If Kai was in class, he wouldn’t answer his phone, so T.J. texted him with something he’d understand: “Eddie 911.” Seeing it, he called Eddie first.

The ring tone disturbed all those waiting at the hospital. Gretchen saw Kai’s name light up the small screen of Eddie’s phone. “It's Kai. Do we have any takers?”

Slade reached out and ordered, “Hand it to me.”

Pleased to oblige, she tossed it over.

“Hello?”

“Who’s this?” Kai asked, shocked.

“It’s Slade,” he said.

“Slade,”
Kai spat. “What are you doing answering Eddie’s phone?”

Slade walked away again and calmly said, “We’re all at the hospital.”

“
We, who’s we-”

“Me and the rest of her band.”

“Did you say you’re at the hospital?” The hair on the back of Kai’s neck began to tingle.

“Yes.”

“Please don’t tell me Eddie’s in the hospital,” he pleaded, followed by silence. “
What happened?”

Slade did his best to make the accident not sound so tragic.

Getting the facts, Kai got Slade off the line and immediately called UCSF Medical Center.

“
Medical Offices
—
How may I direct your call,”
said the operator.

“Dr. Hildebrandt’s office-”

“
Cardiology-”

“
Karen
—
it’s Kai
—
where’s my dad? Is he in his office or is he in surgery?”

Karen had been taking appointments and handling Dr. Hildebrandt’s calendar for years. She knew his schedule better than Kai’s mom, Inga. “He had surgery this morning, and he’s in with a patient, Kai. Can I—”

“You’ve got to get him on the phone, right now. There’s an emergency and I need him
right now
.”

Karen had known Kai since he was a kid and never had he called up telling her he had “an emergency.” “Yes Kai, hang on, I’ll get him.”

The prestigious Dr. Gunther Hildebrandt went to his office to pick up the line. “Kai—what is it?”

“Dad—”

Gunner could hear the slight panic in his son’s never-to-be-altered voice. “I’m here, son.”

“I need you to call Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles.”

“Whatever for?”

“Dad, Eddie has fallen off a stage and landed on concrete. It knocked her out. She’s conscious now, but I do not want some junior intern reading her MRI. I want the best neurologist in that hospital looking at her results. They could easily miss a hematoma, a contusion or a fracture or—”

“Kai, calm down—I need you to calm down.” Dr. Hildebrandt, though a very busy man, knew the relationship Eddie had with his kids. “I’ll have Karen get Cedars on the phone. Would you like me to have a copy of the films sent to my office—see them for yourself?”

“Yes,” Kai said, “thanks.”

Four long hours after the Katz made their presence known at the hospital, a nurse walked towards them in the waiting area. “Which one of you is here for Esther Von Drake?”

“I am,” Slade answered, getting out of his chair. The girls followed suit and stood up to go in and see Eddie, but Slade, giving them a stern look ordered, “I’m going in there alone. I need to see her, talk to her first.” It was all the explanation he was willing to give them as he walked off, solo.

He was led down a hallway into the room that Eddie occupied. She had bandages wrapped around her head and a soft cast on her left ankle. There were bruises on her face where the keyboard had landed, and her lip was swollen, but she looked whole. A temporary smile of hope spread across his face as he stood at the bed.

He grabbed her hand and looked into a pair of bloodshot eyes. “Never in my life have I seen a musician go to such drastic lengths to get attention,” he teased, squeezing her fingers.

She did her best to give him a smile of acknowledgment, but any worry she may have had about her physical condition didn’t come close to surpassing her anxiety about losing a record deal. “Slade,” she whispered, “Slade, does Moonshine know?”

He understood the apprehension in her red eyes. “No,” he consoled.

She relaxed a bit, knowing Slade had bought her some time. “Tell Gretchen and the others to get back to the band room and get all our stuff out.”

He made his way back to the waiting room and said, “Look, I think she’s going to be okay, but you’ve got to get back to the band room and get your stuff out of there before Rachelle or anybody else shows up. You’re going to have to clean everything up so it doesn’t look like an accident happened.”

The Katz left. Slade returned to Eddie’s side and said, “They’re on their way.”

“Good,” she said.

“Gretchen called your mom,” Slade mentioned.

“So, what’s the word, then?” he asked, looking at the purplish black of her toes poking through the navy blue ankle boot. “Have you seen a doctor yet?”

“I saw the ER doctor. I’ve been in for an MRI and they slapped this lovely ankle boot on me. We’re still waiting for the result from the film, I guess.”

She looked banged up and very bruised, but after communicating with her, Slade’s fear had waned considerably. He searched her face and asked, “Eddie, have you had brain surgery before?”

“No,” she answered, puzzled. “Why would you ask me that?”

“It’s the,” he pointed to his own neck. “You’ve got like this gash on the back of your neck.”

“Oh,”
Eddie’s hand came up to feel behind her neck. “No, no surgery—it’s nothing.”

There was a long awkward pause as another doctor walked in. Chart in hand, he flipped through the pages and introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Boris King,” he smiled, “and you are . . . Esther Von Drake—who had the misfortune of falling off a stage.” He sounded almost amused at her “misfortune.” “I’m head of neurology at the hospital and I’ve been to radiology and have personally reviewed your T-two’s. You are a very lucky girl. Your ankle, no doubt, took the brunt of the force when you fell, but I can’t see anything remarkable from the scan. There doesn’t seem to be any swelling or fracture.

“However, we’re going to need another twenty-four hours to be sure. If you do have any kind of fracture, it’s a small stress or hairline, and if that’s the case then bed rest is required. You are going to have to take it easy and get plenty of sleep for the next several weeks. But, from what I can tell, you’re going to make it.” He smiled as he signed off on her chart. “We’ll keep you here overnight, but you should be able to go home tomorrow. I’ll send the nurse in with a few prescriptions you’re going to need.”

“So, she’s going to be okay?” Slade asked.

“From what I can tell, she’s gonna be just fine.” He nodded and smiled his doctor smile.

“Thank you, doctor,” Eddie said.

“Thank you,” Slade beamed, grabbing Dr. Boris King at his shoulders, giving him a heart-felt shake of gratitude.

As the doctor left, Slade took Eddie’s hand again and held it to his face as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it, and then rubbing the spot, said, “I was so worried. But everything’s going to be okay.”

“Well, I’m not entirely okay,” she moaned. “I still don’t know what’s going on with Moonshine or Zygote Records or Iron Horse. Last night we left without an offer. It’s still a bunch of “maybes.” And now, I’m stuck in this hospital with a bashed-in face and a twisted ankle. Has Rachelle called Gretchen? Has she heard anything yet?” Eddie was still all business.

“No,” said Slade, “Last I checked, she hasn’t heard a word . . . but I have,” he smiled, laughing under his breath. “I had to keep the information under wraps with the others until I was sure you were out of the woods”.

“Please, Slade, you’ve got to tell me. I can’t take anymore,” Eddie begged, shutting her eyes.

Bringing his face very close to hers, Slade touched her bruised lips to his, moved again by the clear affection he felt. She felt his lips ever so slightly and breathed in a scent she was becoming accustomed to.

She whispered, “You’ve got to stop that.”

“And you’ve got to stop shattering my fun,” he sulked. “You rebuff my advances and insist on being courted by another, who, I must tell you, is lower than the dust on those kinky heels you wore last night. And he’s not even in the bloody picture. He’s at university living his life. Why don’t you just let him bugger off so you can live yours?”

“Quit stacking the deck, here. I’m trying to live my life, tragic as it is, sitting on a hospital bed looking more like a battered housewife than some sultry siren serenading suitors.”

“Sultry siren serenading suitors?” he laughed. “Are you on pain meds?”

“Kind of,” her speech slowed. “Just keep all those overtures you’ve perfected where they belong, Mr. McAllister.

“I make you flustered, don’t I?”

“I’m not flustered. I’m scared—worried over last night’s performance and you’re the poor slob who holds the answer to all my prayers in your hands,” she griped, coherent enough to complain.

“Answer to your pr—Why, I’ve reached godhood,” and sweeping his arm, he cried, “
Slade is god.
That has quite a ring to it. Never quite understood why Clapton got all the glory.”

“Slade?”

“Yes, your grace?” he asked.

“Please tell me what you know?”

“Eddie, this is such a rare chance for me—a gem. I finally have something you want. All the while I’ve been vexed by your womanly wiles,” he commented, laying on the British charm. “Now the shoe’s on the other foot and you deny me the enjoyment of dangling it like a carrot over your head. My only regret is that I don’t have a stringed quartet in the corner, sawing away while I tell you.”

“All those refined lines of yours,” she reflected.

“All that controlled romanticism of
yours
. . . all that harnessed eroticism just waiting to break the door down.”

“Do you talk like that to all your ladies-in-waiting? That must be hard work.”

“No, my ladies do anything I ask. You’re the only one that makes me work.”

The banter was wearing Eddie out. “You’re killing me.”

“All right, all right, I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you while you’re out on stage.
Somebody’s
got to make sure you don’t land on your head again.”

“What are you saying, Slade?”

“I’m saying Lanni called me today.”

“And?”

“And he had the contract couriered over to Astral’s office today.”

“How much?”

A slow conniving smile spread across Slade’s handsome face. Eddie repeated, “
How much?”