Green Eyes, Molly & Juliane, a Story of War, Love and Redemption

By B.L Wilson

Somewhere in the conflicted Middle East, a badly wounded female transportation driver named Juliane Thomasina (JT) Epps nearly loses a foot and ankle in a rebel attack. As an army corporal, she's been driving supplies from the local airport to the US Army encampments in the desert and the mountains for two tours of duty. After the attack, she manages to drag her passengers to safety in a nearby cave-like structure and steps on a landmine.
Molly Running Deer, an ER Army field nurse, saves JT’s life. JT has lost so much blood, her heart stops. Molly stops the bleeding using a temporary fix until the doctors can operate. Molly develops a connection with JT and goes with her to Germany for additional surgeries to save her calf, ankle and foot.

Flash forward many years later, and the two women, their lives now immeasurably different, meet up again by chance in New York City. Will their previous connection bind them together again, or has their mutual attraction faded with the passing time?

Find out in Green Eyes: Molly & Juliane, a story of war, love and redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.L Wilson
• Release date: Jun 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215027943

B.L Wilson

B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE: Delivering a truckload of supplies should be easy, right?

"Epps! Corporal Epps, are you in here?" a sturdy, red-faced sergeant shouted. He was inside a huge, unairconditioned tent filled with broken-down vehicles, searching for a specific solider mechanic. He was trying yell above the typical garage sounds and sights. The squeaking vehicle lifts; humming arch welding equipment that shot sparks as welders repaired broken crank shafts; engines sputtering to life then coughing when they choked out, and whirling high-powered drills removing tire bolts. The sergeant’s normally bullhorn voice had to compete with loud rap music piped through the garage too.

One of the soldiers who heard the sergeant hollering for Epps slid a wrench across the floor aimed at the corporal’s rolling cart. He knew the wrench would make a loud pinging noise and vibrate the cart a little too. When the corporal looked over, the soldier pointed at the sergeant’s nearby booted feet.

Juliane Thomasina Epps, also known as JT Epps, wiped at the sweat rolling down her neck. She was dressed in desert army gear as she scooted from underneath a jeep repair. She was greeted by a highly annoyed, impatient transportation sergeant who was pacing back and forth as he studied his watch.

The sergeant snapped his fingers at the female mechanic. Come on. Come on. Let’s go, Epps!

Where are we going today, Sarge? JT asked, wiping at the sweat on her forehead and neck with a clean rag she kept in a back pocket. She was bathed in sweat. It must be well over hundred degrees outside today. She remembered how the desert heat took her breath away the first time she stepped off an airconditioned plane and walked outside in the desert heat to help unload a cargo plane filled with newbies’ stuff. The brochure described the heat as oppressive.

In her desert survival course, taught in an airconditioned room in a southern army camp, she remembered how her instructor talked about how hot the desert climate was. He told hot jokes throughout the course. What he never said was heat in the southern states had water mixed in with it, so the air was hot but humid too. He didn’t say how desert heat was dry, very dry air and very hot, far above anything she’d ever experienced in her life. Nor did the instructor emphasize how important staying hydrated in dry heat turned out to be.

Throughout the plane ride to the Middle East, all of her commissioned and non-commissioned officers stressed drinking water. It was the one thing she found so annoying. It seemed every sentence began with: Did you drink a bottle of water? Or, How much water did you drink today, soldier? Or, Here’s another bottle of water. Better drink it all before we arrive.

When the plane landed and the doors opened to let in the desert air, she finally understood the need for water. The heat attacked her body like she imagined the enemy would. It kicked her in the gut and she almost vomited. It messed with her mind. Her brain felt hot and foggy. Her skin felt fried. She almost couldn’t breathe. When she swallowed, it felt like she was swallowing a fiery hot poker that made her guts feel like they were boiling.

Drink some water, you newbies. You pussies better not faint or I’ll have your asses! the sergeant shouted at the men and a few women who grabbed on to anything to remain upright, including each other. Nobody wanted to be the first one to fall or faint. Everybody knew it spelled death to a career in the army if he or she fainted upon arrival in the desert. That was, in addition to being teased and harassed relentlessly until the desert tour ended.

Break out your water. If you don’t have any water, get it from the coolers, you pussies! the sergeant screamed then pointed to the large army-green coolers on wheels. JT could never understand why those damned coolers had wheels on them. The sergeant made them carry the coolers everywhere they went that day and they’d better keep them filled because their lives depended on it. Once she thought about it, she realized the sergeant was making sure they understood the importance of water hydration in the desert. The same way she remembered that day, she was sure her fellow soldiers had similar memories.

Her current sergeant cleared his throat loudly to turn her focus onto him again. I know you’re a female, Epps. And I understand how females just l-o-v-e to ask questions. Well, I ain’t no female! How about you just close your mouth. Wait and see.

Yes, Master Sergeant. I understand, Master Sergeant. I’ll do exactly that, Master Sergeant, Corporal Epps remarked, hoping that was enough sergeant ass-kissing for the day. She noticed they were walking out of the repair garage unit and toward the transportation area at the other end of the unit. She grinned broadly. If she was alone, she’d do a victory dance.

Good, Corporal Epps. Now wipe that silly-ass grin from your face. The sergeant stopped to glare at her. What’s your gain is some other soldier’s loss. Always remember that.

Yes, Master Sergeant. I understand, Master Sergeant.

Well then, understand this. I recommended you as a driver today because you’re very familiar with the supply route from the public airport in town to our supply warehouse nearby and then the supply depot back here. Do not make me regret my recommendation.

No, Master Sergeant. I won’t do that. I’ll make you proud, Master Sergeant.

The sergeant sighed as he studied the lone female soldier he had a great deal of faith in. She took assignments without complaint. No matter how shitty they were, she didn’t squawk about it. In fact, the other soldiers were always trying to outdo the only female in their unit. They took shitty assignments too and kept the motor pool humming with efficiency.

Epps, you should know it’s a dangerous assignment. I got no idea what’s in the cargo. Nobody tells us grunts shit! Whatever it is got a couple of other drivers killed or badly wounded in an ambush. He rubbed his chin as he studied her face, which she kept blank. She couldn’t hide her twinkling eyes. No sign of fear, just curiosity, he mused. We’re sending reinforcements with you and the other loads. Three armed guards will ride with you. One up front as a lookout and two inside the cargo trucks. All five trucks have the same number of armed guards. You’ll be bring up the rear truck. So far, the rebels hit the lead trucks and steal the cargo. Keeping that in mind, Epps. You’ll be hauling the good stuff, whatever that is.

Yes, Master Sergeant. I understand perfectly. Like I said before, I’ll make you proud, Corporal Epps remarked.

Make yourself proud, Corporal Epps. Come back in one piece, okay? the sergeant reminded.

Yes, Master Sergeant. That won’t be a problem for me. If it doesn’t look right, I’ll wait until it does, Corporal Epps confidently promised.

Just follow orders, Corporal Epps, the sergeant reminded again.

They heard the horns honking repeatedly as a fully armed lieutenant stuck his head out of the first truck. He went on the radio. You in the last truck, get in. Let’s go.

The sergeant nodded. He watched her climb into the last cargo truck in a line of them. He was a good Catholic and crossed himself then kissed his Saint Christopher medallion. All of the trucks had a sand-colored beige, off-white, ivory and pastel green canvas covering the entire cargo space. The color scheme was designed to blend into the landscape. There was a darker camouflage net stored in each truck that could disguise them in the mountain ranges.

He watched them slowly pull out of the transportation unit. The trucks drove along the US-built asphalt road inside the camp that led to the reinforced main gate. The gate had armed vehicles at the ready to prevent intruders from proceeding further. In addition to the armed vehicles at the gate, there were the four fully armed watchtowers on stilt-like steel legs that monitored traffic on the main highway. Each watchtower had the ability to send out drones to examine suspicious vehicles and persons. The five trucks stopped at the main gate waiting for orders to open the gate.

Meanwhile, inside the fifth truck, the guard in the passenger seat introduced himself as Finnegan. He couldn’t hide his surprise as he watched Corporal Epps climb into the seat. Hey? You’re a woman!

Yeah. Folks tell me that all the time, Corporal Epps remarked as she climbed into the driver’s seat. I’m Corporal Epps.

You know where we’re going?

Yeah, but my sergeant says all I have to do is follow the trucks in front of me.

Finnegan the guard nodded then picked up the flak-jacket and the helmet resting on the space between. Better put these on now while we’re still inside the camp.

Corporal Epps sighed then nodded. Just what I need today. More clothes in this heat. She quickly slipped into the flak-jacket, adjusting the Velcro straps to fit her tall, sturdy body, then placed the helmet on her head, pulling the tinted visor down to block out the atomically bright sun.

You’ll thank me for doing this later. Finnegan studied her, particularly focusing on her upper torso. His eyes lingered on her breasts. How long have you been in transportation?

This is my second tour. And you, how long?

Finnegan ignored her direct question, choosing to answer something that wasn’t asked. As you can see, this isn’t a US army uniform. I did the army thing for a minute. I found something that paid better for the same damned thing!

I kind of noticed that. It’s a close imitation, though.

It’s supposed to be. Our government isn’t crazy about various countries discovering we use mercs to do our dirty work, Finnegan added but didn’t explain.

They were at the front gate much faster than she anticipated.

What kind of dirty work? Corporal Epps asked as she waited to be cleared for the trip outside the camp. She presented her ID to the guard. Then she pressed her hand into the tablet the guard gave her for a handprint. The tablet linked her enlistment history to her handprint.

Okay. Corporal Epps, just follow the rest of the convoy, the guard at the gate remarked after receiving approval from his supervisor. Good luck on your trip today, Ma’am.

Corporal Epps nodded at the guard. Thanks. She parked behind the convoy that had pulled off the road to wait for her truck to get through the verification process. They pulled back onto the main road to continue their journey. You were about to tell me about the dirty work you get paid to do.

Finnegan grinned at her but kept his eyes on the road and his gun ready for quick use. Sounds like you might be interested in signing up. He continued to study the road, looking for anything that didn’t belong. We could use more females. Since you’re driving this bad boy, does that mean you can repair it too?

Break it down, rebuild it and keep it humming. Since I work in a motor pool, we repair anything on wheels, one wheel, two wheels, four wheels, or eight wheels. If it’s got tracks or treads, we can fix it and probably have fixed ‘em. We even fix boat motors. About the only thing we haven’t repaired is planes and drones. They require different repair training and certifications.

You like working with your hands, huh?

Corporal Epps grinned proudly Yes, I do.

I’ll just bet you do, Finnegan murmured playfully. Since he didn’t see a wedding ring around her neck, where some females hung their rings, or on her finger, he kept up the wisecracks. One of these days, you’ll have to show me how you use your hands.

Oh please, I can tell you’re one of those short guys. By the way you’re sitting, you look shorter than me.

You like big guys? Or just guys with big stuff? Finnegan asked with a dimpled grin.

Corporal Epps snickered. Next, you’ll tell me you have everything I need, right?

Aw, Corporal Epps, give me a chance. This slightly shorter guy might surprise you with what he has to offer. Finnegan smiled at her but still looked at the road beyond her and around her.

What are you looking for out there? All I see is sand, a few rocks and boulders, and some wanna-be palm trees.

The guard laughed as he studied her with large blue eyes in a tanned face. Wanna-be palm trees, that’s funny. I couldn’t have described them better.

Get your eyes back on the road, Finnegan.

The guard sighed. Yeah, I know, but I’d rather study you.

Don’t let this get around, Corporal Epps whispered confidentially. While you’re cute and your eyes are very pretty, you aren’t my type.

Why? Am I too white for you?

Definitely not! Corporal Epps sighed. It’s more of a gender issue.

You just haven’t had the right inspiration. I’m betting I could do things to your body that you couldn’t imagine a man doing to you. Finnegan frowned as they passed by three old trucks quickly going in the opposite direction. He whirled around to eye the trucks. His radio woke up at the same time.

Guard in truck 5, keep an eye out. Trucks exactly like the ones that passed us have been known to turn around and follow from a distance, the lieutenant warned.

That’s a roger, LT. Finnegan pressed on his radio. Kennedy, Ross, you guys you heard the lieutenant?

Kennedy and Ross peered through the rear tiedown canvas roof cover with monoculars. They had a great view of the straight sandy road for miles. Yeah, we copy. We’re keeping an eye out too. So far, nothing on the road behind us. Let’s hope it stays that way.

Amen to that, the lieutenant remarked.

CHAPTER TWO: No peace for the cargo convoy mission today.

But a peaceful journey wasn’t to be had today by anybody in the cargo convoy. The trip to pick up the supplies from the airport and drop some of them off at the US army’s large, well-guarded warehouse was uneventful. Picking up other supplies from the warehouse and adding to the supplies already loaded into the trucks presented the perfect opportunity for an ambush.

Do you ever get tired of the sand, Finnegan? Corporal Epps asked as she looked out the windshield. It seemed like an endless array of beige sand dunes on the right and more sand dunes on the left. The road she was driving on was also covered by a thin layer of beige particles left over from a recent sandstorm. In her rearview was additional beige, broken up only by a few large brown trunks with green palm and fig tree stems and leaves. When she glanced into her rearview mirror again, heat from the endless sand wiggled in front of her eyes. She wiped at the salty sweat stinging her eyes.

It’s the nature of this land, just like the oppressive heat, Finnegan responded, eyeing the road closely. He sighed then tightened his grip on his M-4 weapon. We’re coming up on that narrow tunnel-like structure again. It’s the perfect place for an ambush. The bastards could shoot at us from the top of the rocks. We’d be like fish in a barrel. Unless you’re a camel or a bird, it’s the only road going and coming through the town.

Corporal Epps knew he was right. It was the perfect spot for an ambush. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck wiggled and felt itchy. Even the hairs soaking in her sweat jiggled as their convoy drove toward the narrow passage between two large rocky outcroppings that seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

The passage extended about ten miles along a series of rocky steep hills on either side of the roadway, which narrowed down from four wide lanes to two skinny lanes going in opposite directions. She’d driven along this roadway before. She hated it then as she hated now. Like Finnegan mentioned, anybody could hide among the rocks and shoot the shit out of their convoy. They had three guards per truck today. She hoped at least one of the guards in each truck was a sharpshooter. Her rolling gut said something was about to jump off.

Gunfire erupted at the front of the convoy. From where she sat, she could see an orange flash arcing in the air, then another one and another one. Rockets! In-coming! she screamed. They all landed and exploded trucks in the convoy. Finnegan hung out of the cab of the truck and took aim. Somebody fell from rocks and landed on the sand-covered road in front of her. His head opened like a busted watermelon, pink and red splattered onto her hood and windshield. She could hear the guards in the back climbing onto the roof and shooting.

Back the fuck up! the lieutenant screamed over the radio. Don’t turn around. You’ll block the road. Back the fuck up! Do you copy?

That’s a copy! Backing up now. Corporal Epps revved the motor and backed up quickly. Guys in the back, grab on to something, she hollered, while Finnegan repeated the same message over the radio.

Blurry rocky images whizzed by as she flew out of the narrow passage backwards. Finnegan, Kennedy and Ross dropped three more shooters into the road. She made it back to the mouth of the narrow topless tunnel until a rocket hit her truck too. Grabbing a radio, she scrambled out of the burning truck. She pulled the bloody, semi-conscious Finnegan with her. She went back two more times to drag out Kennedy and Ross before the truck blew up. She packed bleeding wounds and tied up broken bones she could see on her guards.

The lieutenant and the remaining dozen or so drivers and guards dipped underneath outcroppings. Then they limped or dragged themselves over to join her and the three guards hiding underneath the overhang of the head of the narrow passage.

Corporal Epps handed her rescued radio to the lieutenant to call for help, but the radio didn’t work. LT, I see a radio we can use over there. She pointed in the direction of one of the exploded trucks. I think that’s a case of water over there too. Okay to go get it, LT? she asked. She was in better shape than anybody else in the convoy. She only had a few nicks and cuts from the flying windshield glass.

Finnegan, Kennedy and Ross? Can you guys cover her? the lieutenant asked. He hadn’t done a triage yet. Visually, he could see that Ross had a head injury. He had tied a cloth across his left eye and forehead. Kennedy’s right hand was wrapped in his T-shirt. There was a pressure bandage around his left leg that prevented additional bleeding. Finnegan looked worse for the wear. He was gut shot with his T-shirt stuffed in the wound and tied on with his belt and the strap from his gun.

Finnegan groaned loudly as he pressed the field bandage against his belly. Those effing pieces of shit got me in the gut, LT! He closed his eyes in pain. Anybody got morphine?

Turn me in the right direction. I can cover her, LT, Ross remarked.

Me too, Kennedy remarked. I can shoot just as good with either hand.

The lieutenant checked his pockets then the pack on his backpack for medication. He found some. He checked his thigh wound and tightened the belt tourniquet around. He dragged his right leg behind as he struggled to scoot over to Finnegan.

LT, stay your ass where you are. Just pass it down, Kennedy suggested. He watched the morphine container passed from man to man on down the line to Finnegan, who used it on himself. It had the desired effect of rendering him unconscious in a few minutes. Kennedy sat him upright while Epps tied the gut packing tight as she could with several belts to hold it in place. He’s gonna be so pissed he missed your touch, Epps.

Corporal Epps groaned. Lie him back down for me, she remarked.

Hey, Epps. Next time we do one of these runs, I’m riding with you. I could stand a little vacay time in Germany. I don’t want a gut shot like Finnegan or be blind like Ross’s ass. Just a little hand shot like Kennedy got, the guard named Nixon joked.

Fuck you, Nixon! Ross remarked.

Yeah, kiss my white ass, Nixon, Kennedy added.

Epps studied all the men lined up against the dark gray and deep red rock wall. She rolled her eyes at all of them. All of you can kiss my Black ass, except you, LT.

The men elbowed each other in the side and guffawed. One of them finally spoke. Our man Finnegan was supposed to do exactly that. He’s been talking about you since he first heard you were driving with us today.

No, even before that.

He saw you working on a motor in your unit. He wanted to say something back then.

When Epps flushed bright red, the men elbowed each other.

He said something, didn’t he? one of the men asked.

Epps shrugged. LT, let me go get the radio, okay?

Kennedy and Ross, you guys cover her. Okay?

We all will.

Epps waited until her cover was in position before she raced out from the outcropping. At the same time, two of the men returned fire as shots pinged all around Epps, but she managed to dodge and sidestep them. She returned carrying several radios. One of them ought to work, LT. She sat down to catch her breath. If you can keep them off me, you’ll get a case of water. I need help carrying it.

I’ll do it, Ross volunteered. Just direct me to the case and I’ll follow you, Epps.

You can barely see shit, Ross. I’ll do it, Kennedy volunteered.

And you can barely lift your hand, Kennedy. I’ll do it, one of the other guards offered. I got cuts and nicks from the glass shards. I picked out the shit. It’s nothing serious. I’ll go, Epps. You gotta promise Finnegan a date or we’ll never hear the end of it. LT, you didn’t hear this part.

Huh? The lieutenant removed his helmet and cleaned out his ears. What did you say, Courtland? Those explosions messed up my hearing.

The rest of the men laughed along with Epps.

Courtland and Epps raced out to pick up the case of water from the middle truck that exploded and ran back under the overhang. Feeling confident that no shots were fired, they took that as a sign the enemy left. They wanted to go out to sort through the trash for ammunition, first aid kits and more water while they waited for a helicopter rescue. The enemy had left. Unfortunately for Epps, the explosions unearthed old battlements. Courtland carried more bottled water back to the overhang. Epps sorted through the exploded ruins and found two first aid kits. Courtland returned to help her dig through the ruins. Better they should take it with them than let the enemy rebels get it.

Nixon stood up to signal the two soldiers. Hey, Epps, Courtland! The lieutenant says come on back. Our ride is coming. He said watch out for unexploded armaments. They built this road over some of it.

No sooner than he warned them, then Epps heard a click underneath her right foot. She moved before she understood what was happening. She felt immense pain like she’d never felt before. She screamed and everything turned to blackness.

CHAPTER THREE: Will JT lose a foot? The limb-saving surgery isn’t here.

"Finnegan, are you hit? Are you hit! Epps screamed. Don’t you die on me. Open your eyes. Talk to me, damn it! she shouted again and again. Sweating profusely, she sat up. Confused, she looked around. Where was all the beige sand, the rocky obstructions, and overhangs? All she saw was sterile whiteness. Stainless steel instruments hovered above her. She saw blood, rivers of it when she looked down at the ground. Where am I? Where is this? What am I doing here? Finnegan? LT? Somebody answer me!"

It’s okay, Corporal Epps. I’m right here. I’m here. Nurse Molly Running Deer hurried to cut off the rest of the soldier’s clothes. This patient’s wounds were the worst of the lot. Twenty soldiers and one officer left this morning on some sort of supply mission. It was a convoy of five trucks with four soldiers per truck. One driver and three guards. Sixteen soldiers and one officer returned. This soldier and another soldier who was wounded in the abdomen suffered the worst wounds. The second gunshot wound to the hand would need major surgery to regain the full use of his hand. The rest were broken bones, scratches, deep cuts and bruises. She understood Corporal Epps was a driver in the last truck. Keep talking, Epps.

Who are you? Where are we? Where’s the desert, the hot sand? I was driving in the desert. They were bombing us with shoulder rockets. We killed them. They killed us. Oh God …oh God! Corporal Epps pressed palms into her eye sockets in total confusion.

No, no, soldier. Don’t move! Keep your hands down at your sides! Nurse Molly Running Deer ordered in a sharp voice. She was relieved when the soldier obeyed and she continued to cut and pull away clothing. She dumped the bloody clothing into a bag an orderly held open. Lie still. I need to see where else you’re hurt. She carefully propped up the soldier’s right booted foot under the calf of the soldier’s leg to lessen the pressure on her ankle and foot. The limb looked odd, dangling as if there wasn’t much holding the ankle and foot connected together. She was afraid if she removed the boot, the corporal’s foot might come off with it. She placed a tourniquet on the patient’s right leg to temporarily control the bleeding in her foot.

Orderly, help me support her leg and foot. I need to roll the patient onto her left side and then her right. Move her right leg and foot when I move her body. Be very careful with her foot. I’m fairly sure it’s shattered.

Don’t you wanna remove the boot?

No! It’s all that’s keeping it attached to her leg. Molly raised her voice in annoyance. Sorry for yelling at you. I just get so pissed at this kind of damage! I hate war.

We’d be out of jobs if war didn’t exist.

Not necessarily. Medicine is one of those things that we’ll always need.

The patient was entirely nude now as they checked for more injuries. They discovered cuts and nicks on her face, arms and chest; nothing serious. They found a through and through bullet wound on her right thigh. It hadn’t bled much because the bullet pulled part of the fabric from her uniform through the wound when it exited. Molly cleaned the area and pulled the fabric out with tweezers then cleaned the area again. She packed it with sterile gauze and walked to the head of the gurney.

You’ll need stitches on this, Corporal Epps. We’ll wait until the doctor examines your foot. How are you doing? Molly asked, changing gloves to attach monitoring devices to JT’s naked body. Can you tell me where you are?

Epps looked around the ER unit in a daze. No. Where is everybody? We were in sand lots of sand. Very hot. Now, it’s too c-c-cold in here.

It has to be cold to kill all the germs you soldiers bring in here when you’re wounded.

Epps looked at woman with the twinkling green eyes. I’m not hurting. Don’t feel nothing.

Molly squeezed her patient’s arm with a gloved hand. You’re probably in shock.

Epps nodded. C’mere, Lady. I gotta tell you something.

Molly leaned over the soldier’s chest. Yes, Epps?

You gotta walk me to the ladies’ room. I don’t think I can make it there by myself.

Molly nodded. I understand. We can’t let you go right now. She studied her patient’s determined look. But it’s okay. I gave you a catheter. Do you know what that is?

Epps nodded then sighed. A piss bag. Am I gonna die today?

Why would you ask that? Molly adjusted the catheter then checked the lines for the IV and the monitoring equipment. She covered her patient