“What did you think of him?”
Simon answered them politely, giving them as few details as possible, especially as they got personal. “Dr. Wu is polite and professional. I believe he’ll be good member of the staff, though I suspect he’ll be exacting and strict.” When they pressed him on the issue, he added, “Yes, he’s handsome. I think he’s in his late twenties, maybe early thirties at the latest. I have no idea if he’s married or not. I don’t think it would be right to ask him.”
“Pish.” Christie, the charge nurse, waved this objection away. “We need to know if we should take over something for his wife as well when we bring him welcome baskets.”
The poor man’s condo was full of welcome baskets and nothing else. “A partner didn’t come with him.” Why are you assuming a wife? It could be a husband.
“She might be arriving later.” Dante, one of the nursing techs, leaned on the top of the nurses’ station. “He mention anything?”
“No.” Simon shuffled the files in front of him, not liking the thought of a wife, husband, or any significant anyone joining Hong-Wei. “I need to check my patients.”
His patients, however, were as nosy as the staff, and they all asked the same questions. Everyone wanted information about Dr. Wu. Most of all, they wanted to know when he was going to come in to the hospital.
“He didn’t tell me,” Simon kept saying, “but I highly doubt it will be today. He must be tired, and he has so much to do, getting his place set up.” Everyone agreed Simon was probably right.
Despite this, just after lunch, while Simon was helping Mrs. Mueller into her shower, he heard a great commotion in the hallway.
Mrs. Mueller, who had severe dementia, tried to get off her chair and go see what was going on. “Is that Bobby?”
Simon shifted the spray nozzle to his other hand and eased her onto the shower stool. “Bobby’s coming for dinner, Mrs. Mueller. We need to get you showered and into a nice dress before he gets here. Will you let me help you, please?”
“Oh, yes.” Her expression was soft and absentminded as she settled down. “Bobby will take me somewhere nice to eat. There’s a festival this weekend, you know.”
Bobby Mueller was Carole Mueller’s husband, a swindling cheat who had run out on her years ago. Simon had discovered, though, that Mrs. Mueller would happily dream of him, waiting forever for the day he would arrive.
“Let’s wash your hair, then, and make sure you’re pretty for the festival.” Simon slipped the hair guard in place and lathered the elderly woman’s hair with the shampoo he brought in special for her. He kept talking soothingly to her, but the noises in the hall continued, and they distracted her.
“Are hoodlums breaking in?” She fidgeted and attempted to rise.
“No one can break in. I promise we’re safe, but if you keep trying to stand up in the slippery shower, you might get hurt.”
She patted his arm. “You take such good care of me. Almost as good of care as Bobby.”
He managed to finish the shower, at which point he toweled her off, got her into her Depends and a lovely nightgown one of the techs had bought for her at Goodwill. She touched her cheeks, trying to twirl as she felt the fabric swish around her ankles.
“Bobby will love this dress.” She clutched Simon’s hand and kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much.”
Simon smiled. “It was nothing at all. Now let’s get you in bed so you can rest for your big day.”
She would forget, within hours, about the festival, about Simon, and possibly even Bobby—definitely she wouldn’t understand where she was and why she was there. Simon didn’t know if it was better or worse that they couldn’t tell her what was wrong. No one could figure out what was going on with the strange mass in her abdomen, wedged in a place that left her reluctant to eat. The fill-in surgeon was unwilling to touch it because of its placement, so she was stuck in limbo, hopped up on painkillers until the tumor grew so large she died.
Simon took time with her, more time than he was supposed to, coaxing her into eating some of her lunch despite the pain, doing the jobs a tech was meant to do because he knew no one would care for her the way he would, and by the time he left her room, she was asleep.
He barely made it into the hall before Dante cornered him.
“Simon—your guy was here!” Dante gestured excitedly in the direction of the nurses’ station. “You’d think a rock star arrived from the way everybody behaved. All the women were starry-eyed and giggling like schoolgirls, and when he left, all they could talk about was how hot he was. I mean, even I had to admit he was gorgeous. If I were gay, he’s who I’d go for.”
Simon’s heart was beating in his ears, and he smoothed his hands over his hair and scrubs. “He’s here?”
Dante gave Simon a once-over. “What happened to you? You’re wet, and you have food smeared all over you. Is that… oatmeal in your hair?”
Gasping, Simon winced as his fingers found the nest of oatmeal. “I gave Mrs. Mueller her shower, then got her to eat before her nap. It was a bit of a struggle.”
“Dude. I keep telling you, that’s not an RN’s job.” Dante shook his head. “I’ll cover for you while you shower. You got spare scrubs in your locker, yeah?”
“I do. Thanks, Dante, I owe you one.” Simon hurried down the hall.
“You can introduce me to the cute new night nurse,” Dante called as Simon disappeared around the corner. “Obviously don’t tell Andreas.”
Simon wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, or why he thought he needed to shower in case he ran into Hong-Wei. Probably he’d already left or was in a meeting, and if he wasn’t, he’d be out of the main area of the hospital by the time Simon was showered. Still, Simon couldn’t help rushing to the locker room, telling himself if he was fast, he might have a chance—
When he opened the door to the locker room, he ran straight into Hong-Wei.
Literally, he ran into the man, right into his chest. Hong-Wei’s scent hit him, some kind of subtle cologne mixed with aftershave and a peppery essence of male that curled into Simon’s belly and made his knees waver.
Hong-Wei caught Simon as he wobbled, then wrapped an arm around the small of his back, holding him in a sturdy grip. “Are you all right?”
No, Simon was going to die of embarrassment. He was a mess, and he’d nearly run Hong-Wei over. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Simon righted himself as best he could and tried to hide his dirty tunic with crossed arms. Of course Hong-Wei appeared incredible, wearing a tasteful gray mock turtleneck and black trousers that rippled every time he shifted his body. He had on a long, slim-fit white lab coat, unbuttoned, flowing around him.
No oatmeal in sight.
Simon scraped together what dignity he could manage. “It’s good to see you, Dr. Wu. I didn’t expect you to come to the hospital so soon.”
Hong-Wei seemed as if he wanted to say something, but he was also frowning, studying the mess in Simon’s hair. Before Simon could say anything to explain, another voice from behind Hong-Wei piped up.
“Simon, let Wu through so I can get out already.”
Owen. Blushing, Simon shuffled down the side of the wall and remained there, flat as he could, as Hong-Wei moved aside so Owen—and God help him, Mr. Beckert and Mr. Andreas—could come through. To Simon’s surprise, Hong-Wei remained beside him, meaning once all the men had exited the locker room, they ended up in a circle at the edge of the hallway.
Beckert, ever the politician, took it in stride. “Thank you again for picking up Dr. Wu last night. I apologized to him that none of us were able to come with you, but he says you were more than an adequate host.”
Simon resisted the urge to hide the oatmeal in his hair. “I’m always happy to help.”
Hong-Wei was still fixated on Simon’s disarray. “Did something happen to you?”
Simon gave in and tugged at the oatmeal, which was firmly glued to his head. “I was trying to get Mrs. Mueller to eat.”
Andreas narrowe
d his gaze at Simon. “Feeding patients is a nursing assistant’s job, Mr. Lane.”
Owen smiled one of his brittle smiles. “Simon takes special care with his patients. You won’t find a more conscientious nurse at St. Ann’s. He can assist with all surgeries, but he doesn’t mind lending a hand when we’re short-staffed in any department. I’ve seen him taking out trash on occasion as well.” Owen rubbed his chin. “Mueller. That’s the benign stomach tumor case. You might find it interesting, Jack.”
Jack? Simon blinked, surprised Owen and Hong-Wei were already on a first-name basis.
Hong-Wei perked up. “I would?” He turned to Beckert. “May I see the patient’s file?”
“With pleasure.” Beckert looked like a cat with cream. “We’re off to get you into the system now so you can see the electronic files. We’ll find you someone to take you on errands as well, while we’re at it.”
“I already have that arranged.” Hong-Wei’s hand fell on Simon’s shoulder, and he glanced sideways at him. “Unless Simon has changed his mind?”
Simon was sure his face had to be in flames. “I— Of course not. I’ll take you wherever you need to go. Just give me a call.”
“I’ll do that.”
Hong-Wei lifted his hand and strode away from Simon, lab coat rippling in an invisible breeze as if he were in some sort of ad for sexy hospitals. As the group disappeared around the corner, Owen gave Simon a heavy wink.
Andreas gave him a long, narrow look.
Simon hurried into the locker room, stripped out of his clothes, and ran into his shower, setting the stream on full blast.
IT HADN’T been Hong-Wei’s plan to go to the hospital, but with nothing in his apartment and no means to rectify the problem but his tablet and a credit card, he eventually grew bored of online shopping and decided to check out his new place of employment. He’d deliberately chosen a condominium near the hospital so he could walk to work, so when the empty rooms had become too much for him, he gathered his things and went to see what would happen when he arrived unannounced.
It was frightening to imagine what they would have done if they’d known he was coming. St. Ann’s treated him like visiting royalty, or perhaps a god. The way the CEO joked about red carpet made Hong-Wei think they had some stashed somewhere and had been trying to figure out how to lay it out for him. Oh, there had been some racism, most of it clumsy stuff rather than aggressive. Largely, though, as he toured the hospital, everyone from janitor to CEO gave him the princely reception he’d assumed he’d receive at the airport.
The day ended with dinner at a local steakhouse, members of the board and a few other doctors in attendance. The board was exactly as Hong-Wei had anticipated them to be: rich, white, and dripping with good-old-boy smiles. The hospital CEO he’d already known to be black from his Skype interview, but he was surprised to discover the OB-GYN, Dr. Kathryn Lambert-Diaz, was also black, and her partner was Dominican. He’d noticed two Hispanic nursing staff members during his tour as well. No other Asians, but that Hong-Wei wasn’t the only person of color in the hospital was something of a relief. In fact, glancing around the steakhouse, he saw that though most people were white, there was the occasional burst of melanin. Several individuals appeared as if they might be from India or Pakistan. Hong-Wei wondered if they were associated with the college Lane had told him about.
Dr. Kumpel, the pediatrician, and Dr. Gagnon, the anesthesiologist who had toured with Hong-Wei, were also present at the dinner. Hong-Wei liked Kumpel and Gagnon, who were apparently friends outside of work. They behaved more casually with Hong-Wei than most of the other doctors, insisting he needed to come over to their house sometime for dinner.
Hong-Wei digested this information, sitting up straighter as he examined the closeness between Gagnon and Kumpel with new eyes. “You live together?”
Kumpel nodded. “Roommates since medical school, friends since we were old enough to get in trouble. Simon lives with us too—the surgical nurse who picked you up from the airport.”
Simon. Hong-Wei remembered the way the man had blushed when he’d run into him, how charming he’d looked even with oatmeal stuck in his hair. So he lived with Kumpel and Gagnon, did he? Hmm. “I’d love to come over for dinner sometime.”
They made a promise to set a date soon, and then the daughter of the one of the members of the hospital board gave Hong-Wei a ride home. She was a kind middle-aged woman, a professor who worked with a number of nurses at the college.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” she told him as she dropped him off.
Then Hong-Wei was alone in his condo again, with nothing but his makeshift bed, the contents of his suitcase, and a mountain of welcome baskets. He wasn’t bored any longer, but he didn’t feel any better about staying in the space.
This was probably why, when his sister called, he answered. “Hey.”
Hong-Su’s snort had an edge of dubiousness that could have cut glass. “Finally, you answer. All right. Go ahead. Tell me all about the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Because I can tell by your hey it’s a mess.”
Hong-Wei sat cross-legged on the pile of blankets. “It’s not a mess. It’s just… strange.”
“Of course it’s strange.” In the background he heard the telltale sounds of a busy hospital. “I have a twenty-minute break before I make my next rounds. You can be stubborn and hem and haw about how you don’t have anything to say, or you can use this time wisely and talk it out.”
Hong-Wei had only one reservation. “Mom and Dad aren’t around, are they?”
“You’re really paranoid, aren’t you? Why don’t you want them knowing I’m talking to you?”
Because they’d want to talk to him too, and Hong-Wei wasn’t remotely ready for that. “Are they around, or not?”
“First of all, this is a huge hospital, and the odds of them being in this exact section of it at the same time I’m talking to you and walking by me are incredibly low. But since I know that won’t be good enough for you, no. They’re not in the building.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. They’re off at a fundraiser.”
Hong-Wei lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Is it terrible? Are you sorry?”
He was a little sorry, but not enough to run home. He let his vision relax as he unpacked his thoughts. “I guess I assumed it would be bad in a sitcom kind of way. It’s less slapstick and more bleak. I thought I was one of two surgeons, but I’m the only full-time surgeon. The other surgeon is someone they hire on rotation from a service. Their anesthesiologist situation is the same. They have one full-time and one who is hired to cover his vacations and the off times. They don’t have enough nurses or nursing techs. When I arrived for a tour today, my surgical nurse was feeding oatmeal to a patient. He’s the only surgical nurse, by the way, though a few others are trained as backup.”
Thinking of Simon relaxed him. He smiled.
Hong-Su made a grim sound, half grunt, half sigh. “I’m not surprised to hear it’s bleak. You picked an incredibly remote location. Few health care professionals want to take employment there. Few locals would want to stay. A degree is a ticket out. Have you not listened to our parents’ sermons?”
Hong-Wei wasn’t in the mood to have them brought up right now. “It’s not what I expected, is what I’m saying.” Steeling himself against self-pity, he tried to rally. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll be fine.”
“I have no doubt you will.” In the background, a machine beeped quietly. “I have some time tomorrow, so I’ll send those boxes you set aside. Is there anything else you want me to ship while I’m at it?” Before he had a chance to think, she continued. “Did you pack any dishes? Noodle bowls, spoons, chopsticks?”
“No, I didn’t.” No way in hell they’d have any of that here. “I guess I’ll have to order some.” Except he already regretted not taking his favorites along. Why hadn’t he taken that into consideration?
/> “I figured you’d forgotten. You were so bent on proving to the family you could stalk off on your own, I’m surprised you had underwear. I’ll send some dishes along, as well as some of the instant noodle packets you like. You can order a lot of them on Amazon, you know. I’ll send you links. Not the same as when I make it, but it’s not as if I ever had the time to do it anyway. Maybe you’ll meet a nice boy in Wisconsin who wants to cook for you, and I’ll teach him.”
Hong-Wei flinched, which was stupid. He knew Hong-Su was on his side, but hearing her talk so casually about getting him a nice boy made him want to roll inside this makeshift bed. “Your twenty minutes have to be up by now.”
It had been maybe five, ten tops, but she didn’t point this out. “Don’t make me call every time, okay?”
She’s not the enemy. “I won’t. Promise.”
“And if you didn’t bring along a Bluetooth speaker for your phone, go get one. You need your music almost more than you need furniture.”
“I have headphones.” He’d found those, at least, packed inside his suitcase.
“Not the same thing. They have to have big box stores there. Get on a bus or take a walk or phone one of these grateful hospital people and get to somewhere that sells one. As soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hong-Wei smiled despite himself. “Thanks, Hong-Su.”
“Anytime.”
He stayed where he was for several minutes after he hung up, considering everything she’d said. Then he checked the time and did a search for stores that might sell a speaker. He found several that would be open for a few hours, but none were close to his apartment, and Copper Point didn’t have a bus system.
Hong-Wei thought of enduring the heavy silence of his condo for another evening, and he twitched.
Holding his mobile above his head while he lay on his back, he pulled up the entry for Simon Lane and opened up a text message bubble.
Is your offer to help me get things for my apartment still good?
He felt a thrill when the reply to his text came in under twenty seconds.
The Doctor's Secret (Copper Point Medical Book 1) Page 4