Forty-One
AS PROMISED, GLADYS shows up to relieve me at 9 p.m. I kiss Helen good-bye and promise not to return until I have met with Father Wayne, whom the Archbishop has graciously detailed to assist me until Helen is out of the hospital. That is why it is nearly 11 a.m. by the time I get back to her room.
Helen is sitting up in bed now, looking the best she has since this whole nightmare started.
“Hello, darling,” I say as I lean down to kiss her. “You look great.”
“I feel great,” she says. “I’ve had a sponge bath and my hair washed. Martin’s already has been in. After looking at the shoulder, he says there is no significant nerve damage, so I should make a full recovery, including being able to shoot again.”
“Wonderful,” I say, “Annie Oakley rides again.” At the same time, I don’t
