From Cathy. This story is darker and more emotional for me, than anything I've ever written. I cried when it came to me, I cried as I wrote it, I cried when I posted it, and I'll cry at every comment, hit or vote.

 
My alarm clock showed the time to be 3AM when I looked at it, blearily. Why was I looking at my clock at that hour? Well, the damn phone woke me up.

“Hello?” I mumbled into the phone. “Who is this?”

“Is this Cathilynn, the owner of The Home That Love Built?” The voice asked me.

“Yes, yes, it is. Now who is this calling me at this ungodly time of the morning?”

“We have a teen here in the hospital. This is Head nurse, Natalie Colm calling. I know what your place is all about, and I think you need to get here ASAP. This kid is in a bad way. I can't give you any details on the phone, but I can say that this is serious, and it concerns you and what your Home is all about.”

“Okay, okay.” I mumbled, still half asleep, but waking up quickly. “Give me a few minutes to dress and put on my face. I'll be there in about a half hour, is that fast enough?”

“I guess it'll have to be, but this kid is really hurt badly. The doctors are working on...um, her, as we speak and it doesn't look good”

Well, that was all I had to hear. I came to full wakefulness in less time than it takes to say it, jumped out of bed, told the nurse I'd be there as quick as I could, hung up the phone and began scrambling around, getting dressed. I hit the intercom to Irene's quarters and when she answered I told her to get up and get dressed. We had an emergency!

“Meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes. We need to get to the hospital fast!”

“I'll be there, Cathy. Any idea how bad this is?”

“No, hon. All the nurse would tell me was to get there as fast as I can. I have a feeling I'm going to need you with me, so hurry, okay hon?”

“I''m on my way, Cathy.” and she cut the intercom link.

By the time I got to the parking area, Irene already had a car started and was warming it up.

“You are amazing, hon! I said, as I climbed into the passenger side of the car. How did you beat me here?”

“If I told you that, I'd be giving up my reputation as a psychic, now wouldn't I? She said, with a small grin.

“One of these days, Irene, I'm going to figure out how you always know what's happening before I do, but I got the jump on you this time, since I got the call first.”

“I was already up, Cathy. I had the feeling, all last night, that something was going to happen. When you paged me, I was already dressed, with the car keys in my hand.”

I buckled my seat belt, sighing. “Someday, Irene...someday.”

“You'll only give yourself a headache trying to figure me out, Cathy. Just accept that, sometimes. I just know when something is gonna happen.” She said with a grin. “It'll be easier on you. You have enough headaches trying to run this place all by yourself, even though you know you have me, Sandra, and a couple others to help you. We need more people though, and you know it. Maybe you should start interviewing help soon.”

“I know, Irene, I know. It's just that I want to try to reserve enough positions for the girls who will come here when they have nowhere else to go. They are the ones who need to feel useful.” I sighed, as we careened through the darkened streets, headed for the hospital.

“If I hire someone off the street, that will be one more position I can't fill with someone who needs it to help them recover. WATCH THAT TRUCK!!” I screamed, as a delivery truck trundled slowly out of a parking lot.

Irene swerved around the truck, horn blaring. “Damned fool!!” She spat. “ Where in the hell do these people get their drivers licenses, from the Sears spring catalog?”

“Easy hon.” I said quietly. “We need to get to the hospital in one piece, okay? It won't do this kid any good if we end up as patients.”

The rest of the short drive went well. Somehow, Irene had the knack of making it through all the traffic lights while they were still green. We arrived in the emergency room parking lot, found a space for the car, and rushed inside.

I went to the admissions desk and asked for Head nurse Colm, and they paged her. When she called back, there was a brief conversation with the desk girl, who then turned to me and said, “Natalie said for you to wait here. She'll be down as soon as she can. Seems like it's a busy night. Two traffic accidents, a beating, two babies being born, and an assault. The cops have been in and out of here since 8PM last night. Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I'll call you as soon as Natalie can get away to talk with you, okay?”

“There's nothing more you can tell us right now?” I pleaded with the receptionist.

“I know who you are, and I have an idea about why Natalie called you, but I really can't say any more than I have. I'm so sorry. I know who you are and I know about your Home. I think it's wonderful, what you're doing for people. In my opinion, it's none too soon. I have a TG friend, and she talks endlessly about your place and what you're trying to do. She is doing well, and her family and friends have stuck with her, but she feels for those who have no one. Hey! Do you need anyone out there? She's ready to graduate from college, with a degree in nursing. She's really good, and I know she'll be applying here, but if you need her more, I'm sure she'd love to work at the Home!”

“I don't know, hon.” I said. “Right now I'm too worried about this situation right here to think about anything else. Maybe when I know more about what Natalie wants, although I have a strong feeling that it's about a girl who's been abused or something like that. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here at this time of the morning, right?” I was trying to get a bit more info from her, but she just shook her head and told me I'd have to wait for Natalie, because she didn't want to tell me anything that might not be right.

I thanked her, and said I'd think about her friend when things settled down. Irene and I went to the waiting area, but I couldn't sit down. I was too worked up and worried about the kid Natalie had mentioned on the phone. I paced back and forth until Irene almost forced me to sit down.

“You're gonna worry yourself into a stroke or something,Cathy! Sit down and have a soda or some coffee, or something. There's no sense in getting all worked up over something you don't know enough about yet, is there?”

“I can't help it, Irene. You know how angry I get when a TG kid is hurt or abused by people who don't know better! It's bad enough when the hurt person is an adult, but when it's a kid! OOOhhh! I get SO mad!”

“I know hon, I know, but you have to calm down. Until Natalie gets here and tells us what's going on, you'll only get loud and disturb the whole place, if I know you. Now please just sit down?”

Irene's words, and her obvious worry about me, finally penetrated my consciousness, and I sat next to her, giving her a one armed hug.

“I know you worry about me, honey. I'm sorry, but being awakened at this hour for what has to be bad news just frustrates me! Can you forgive me for being such a bitch?”

“Cathy...if you didn't bitch about everything that doesn't go exactly your way, I would think you were sick or something. I know it's just your way of working through your frustrations, and, usually, I ignore it, but in this case, I'm worried about your blood pressure. You KNOW what the doctors have said!”

“Look, I know it's bad for your health, but why don't you go outside and have a smoke. You're trying to quit, I know, but it always seems to help you calm down. Just don't tell the doctor I told you to smoke, okay?”

“Maybe you're right, Irene. I do seem to need a smoke. Will you promise to come out and tell me the second Natalie gets here?”

“No. I'm gonna keep you in the dark and worrying more and more, you dope! Of course I'll come out and get you! Sheesh!”

I got up and hugged Irene. I knew she cared about me and was only trying to help me de-stress as much as possible. I went outside and fired up a cigarette. Before any of you say anything, yes, I'm a smoker. I've tried to quit, but nothing seems to work. I have cut way down, and I only have one when I'm really worked up, worried or stressed.

I was halfway through my smoke, when the doors whooshed open, and Irene and Natalie came out,looking for me. I crushed out my cigarette in the ashtray, and turned to them, asking,

“Natalie! Finally! What's going on? Who is this kid you called me about? What's her story?”

FROM CATHY: There's much more to come folks. I'm posting this as a serial, but it's complete. No more unfinished stuff from me...I promise.