Chapter 4

I laid there thinking about my two VIP visitors and Constance. What had the Universe gotten me into? Kevin Townsend sounded like the perfect young man. His resume outclassed anyone I'd ever heard about at that age, and I couldn't wait to find my way into his life to see what there was to see.

Having Hawk and Shane come in and say they wanted Kevin in their administration was a wild card I wasn't expecting, and one I needed to think long and hard about. The officials that wanted me to work for them would be dismantling many of the policies and programs that I had put in place. How hard would it be to keep my mouth shut while I watched my life's achievements taken apart? On the other hand, I bet I could get them to provide me with a high federal income as a settlement for getting me shot, which would give me a better cover as I went about figuring out my life. I didn't need money, I needed the cover of an income that would stop uncomfortable questions.

Before I could come to any decisions, my doctor was back to check me over before he went home. That ruined my concentration, and I gave up trying to fit together all the pieces before I had sufficient facts to make it all work.

The rest of the night passed slowly. I was awake, no longer drugged out of my mind, and beginning to get restless. By the time I had finished watching Sean Hannity and Rachel Maddow give their opinions about the new President and how he would fare, I was ready to watch Road Runner reruns.

A very buxom nurse came in to get me ready to sleep. Her method of getting me ready to fall asleep included a new gown, assistance brushing my teeth, washing my face and hands, and probing questions. "We all saw the President come to see you, but who was the other one, who came earlier?" She had a sneaky smile and a large bust, which was doubtlessly why she was chosen to pump me for information.

"That was Shane Victorello, the Secretary of the Treasury. He oversees the Secret Service. He and Mr. Dryden are old friends. We used to see them around the Capital all the time."

Her eyes grew larger when I talked about them like they were regular people. "Why were they here?" Her face betrayed her. All she wanted was something to dine out on. I was just another source of gossip to her, so I brushed her off with,

"They were covering all their bases. Because I got shot, they are afraid I'll sue the Secret Service for not doing a better job. That's all..." As fast as that, she was convinced I was a nobody and lost interest.

The night dragged as badly as the evening, and I don't think I slept more than a few minutes. The pain in my head was very bad, and once I was classified as unimportant, the staff was not nearly as interested in my wellbeing. By morning I was far too uncomfortable for my own good, and when Doctor Phaisal came in, I mentioned how bad I felt.

"Did your nurse give you the medication I prescribed for discomfort?" he asked.

"Once they figured out I was nobody important, I never saw any of them again," I said factually.

His face darkened, and I knew someone was going to have an unpleasant afternoon.

After breakfast my favorite nurse from the day before was back to help me get presentable. The catheter was removed, and I was helped up to take a few steps, use the bathroom on my own, and start to get my sea legs. Once that was done, she helped me into the shower and stayed to wash my back and various other parts, which pleased Mr. Johnson very much.

This time she giggled when presented with my rather impressive equipment, and I knew what was coming if she kept it up. Rather than waste the opportunity, I kissed her like I kissed when I wanted to get a woman's attention. Carole, my nurse, stood like a statue when I finished kissing her. Her mouth was slightly open, and her respirations were far above normal. For a little while she stared at me, and then she dived back in for another kiss to see if it was an accident.

By the time we both felt satisfied that our kissing was well and properly done, Carole decided that I needed a happy ending. Since she was bathing me anyway, the shower wall worked just fine as a repository of the evidence of her efforts. Even though it made my head hurt, I was incredibly grateful and made sure she knew it. We both laughed at the absurdity of our actions and let it go without recriminations.

At least I can still attract attractive females.

That afternoon physical therapy came to work me over and nearly killed me. I was fine to get up, walk around, and even bend and lift small objects, but when the therapist tossed what looked like a small a medicine ball to me, I lost balance and crashed to the floor, hitting my head on the bed frame. That caused all kinds of uproar, and everyone from my guards to my doctors ran in to see what had happened.