Silent Pledge
Page 33
She shrugged and nodded her head, as if he had just made a logical point.
“You have a great bedside manner,” Lukas continued. “You know how to put the patients at ease, you know how to do not only your own job but everyone else’s, including mine. I’ve never heard any patient complaints about you, and believe me, if there’s something to complain about, the patients around here will do it.”
The tears dried, and some of the misery disappeared from her expression. “Well, that’s the gist of what he said.” She straightened her shoulders, and with a hint of her old chutzpah, she pressed her lips together in a clumsy impersonation of the hospital administrator. “I’m sorry, Mzzz. McCaffrey,’” she intoned in a grave, nasal twang, “‘but you lack the high quality of people skills we seek to employ at this facility. And furthermore, your predilection toward controversy maintains an agitated environment among the staff.’”
Lukas chuckled and was rewarded by a flicker of mischievous humor in her eyes. Tex might be emotional right now, but she was tough. She would bounce back. “In other words,” he said, “you speak your mind. Sounds like good doctor material to me.”
The barest of smiles touched her lips, and then she slumped back in her chair and sighed. “You really think I’d make a good doctor?”
“You’re already a doctor. Get enrolled in a residency program. Go now, when there’s nothing to hold you back.” He paused for a half second. “And do it before you become more emotionally involved with Hershel.”
She gave him a sharp glance.
“Don’t try to fool me, Tex. You haven’t exactly been subtle about it. You know what you said the other day about your…Let me see, how did you say it? You haven’t always been the ‘best judge of character,’ right?”
She stared at him so hard he was tempted to scoot away. But he held the stare. “I’m sorry, Tex. I’m not the best judge, either, but I’ve had enough experience with twisted people in the past—both male and female—to recognize one.”
He saw the flash of pain in her eyes and then a follow-up of anger. Time to do a little more explaining.
“Tex, I was fired from a job and kicked out of my residency program a few years ago because of a vindictive nurse who had a lot of pull with administration—her father was the director of internal medicine. She had a baby out of wedlock and convinced them I was the father—believe me, I had nothing to do with it, and that was what made her mad. I had to take the hospital to court to restore my good name, and I still didn’t get my job back. After that I learned to recognize the users in this world. Maybe I became a little too wary after that, but Hershel strikes an odd chord. I don’t like gossip, but don’t dismiss too lightly what the women around here are saying about him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you…and touches you.”
Tex slouched once more in her chair, and the tears welled in her eyes again. She sniffed and irritably wiped at them with her hand. “It figures, Dr. Bower. What man in his right mind would want a klutz like me?”
“Any man in his right mind would be glad to have someone like you, Tex. Don’t blame yourself that there aren’t very many of those men around.” He waited while she struggled to compose herself for another moment. “If you need a recommendation for residency, I’ll give you one.”
Her chin quivered, and she wiped at another tear. “You really think I could make it through residency?”
“You’re a natural, and don’t let Mr. Amos tell you different. What would he know? He doesn’t even know how to keep good help.”
She looked down at her clasped hands. “You make it sound easy.” There was a strain of hesitance in her husky voice.
“Doing a residency isn’t easy. It’s one of the most difficult experiences you’ll ever have in your life.”
“No.” She became suddenly quiet and reflective, like a pebble falling into a pool of deep water. “Watching your mother die is the hardest.”
Lukas understood exactly what she meant. “It’s a different thing, Tex. You have no control over death, but you have the freedom to decide what to do with your life now. Didn’t your mother sacrifice a great deal to send you to school?”
She nodded, her firm jaw jutting forward a fraction as if she was making a concerted effort to control her emotions.
“Then turning your back on the opportunity won’t honor her memory.”
She winced and closed her eyes.
“What’s keeping you here?” he pressed.
For a moment she didn’t speak. The telephone buzzed out in the E.R., and the secretary answered, and the nurse and the lab tech laughed and flirted with a maintenance man out in the hallway. “I guess I just thought…maybe it really was possible to have a good relationship with a man. I thought Hershel was interested in more than friendship.”
“Believe me,” Lukas said, “any man worth the sacrifice wouldn’t let you make that sacrifice. You’ve come too far to quit.”
She bit her lower lip and stared into space for a moment. Then she nodded and met his gaze. “You say you’d give me a recommendation?”
“Anytime.”
She continued to hold his gaze. He could tell by her expression that she hadn’t decided yet. She gave him a noncommittal nod.
“I’m serious.”
She looked away. “Thanks, Dr. Bower. That means a lot coming from you.”
“You’re welcome, Tex. And whether you like it or not, I’ll pray for you to make the right decision.”
She gave him a wry frown and a shrug, and stood up to leave. “Suit yourself.”
Lukas thought once more about Quinn. “Can you answer a question for me?”
“Sure.”
“What was the name of the babysitter you suspected of drugging Angela’s kids?”
Her forehead wrinkled. “You mean Ramey?”
Bingo. “Didn’t you tell me she worked for the ambulance service for a while?”
“Yes, she was bookkeeper and part-time dispatcher. Administration caught her drinking on the job, and when they checked her out they discovered she was padding the bills.”
“Remember the day Angela brought her kids in? She told us Mrs. Ramey was quitting, leaving town. Did she?”
“Nope. I saw her at the store the other day, hauling about six kids up and down the aisles with her.” Tex shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe so many parents in this town still trust her with their children after that little girl disappeared from the park. I did tell you, didn’t I, that Ramey was her babysitter?”
“Yes. Do she and Quinn know each other?”
Tex’s eyes narrowed with increasing interest. She made no move toward the door. “Yeah, he was working there when she got the boot, but I don’t know if they were friends or anything. If you’ll notice, he and I aren’t exactly bosom buddies. What are you getting at? What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure yet, but Carmen told me something interesting. Remember the night Quinn walked out on us when we were coding Marla Moore?”
“I sure do.” Tex scowled. “The jerk.”
“He made a telephone call to somebody named Ramey.”
Tex’s mouth dropped pen. “In the middle of the code!”
“That’s right.”
“That’s crazy! We needed him! What did he call her for?”
Lukas repeated what Carmen had told him. “My question is, what would have caused him to leave so suddenly and make a phone call? What happened just before that?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask his ex-partner? Sandra got fed up with him and changed shifts. I talked to her just a few days ago.”
“I think I’ll do that. Meanwhile, Tex, why don’t you check out your possibilities about returning to residency?”
She nodded, preoccupied, and turned to walk out of the room. “Yeah, Dr. Bower, I’ll check into it.” She stopped suddenly and turned back, her green eyes widening. “Of course! The baby disappeared! Jerod Moore. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? You think Quinn called Mrs. Ramey
to steal the baby as soon as he had a chance to get away from Sandra to make the call.” Her excitement grew. “It’s perfect! You think Quinn and Ramey stole that baby!”
It was late Wednesday night, and Theodore couldn’t sleep in spite of the pain medication the nurse had given him an hour ago. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tedi’s face, or he heard her voice, or Mercy’s. His senses threatened to overwhelm him in their intensity, and he wondered if this was what happened with all terminal patients.
Yet he resisted the idea of impending death. Earlier he thought he’d come to grips with the possibility, but tonight, in the silence and the darkness, he knew he wasn’t ready. How could any man bear the thought of leaving his family to face life without him?
He picked up the telephone beside his bed and dialed the number Mercy had given him earlier. He knew it was late, and he waited tensely for the telephone to ring two…three…four times before a groggy male voice answered.
“Hllmph.”
Theo’s heart pounded harder, and his throat threatened to close with an overwhelming surge of emotions. He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Lukas?” He sounded like a strangling man. “I know it’s late. This is—”
“Theodore,” Lukas said, his voice suddenly clear and filled with concern. “Are you okay? Are you at the hospital?”
Lukas’s concern overwhelmed him. Theo allowed a sob to escape, and then another, and his shoulders heaved, and the force of the movement shook the bed, and pain shot through him from the wound at the biopsy site. While he cried in a wash of physical and emotional pain that he couldn’t hope to resist, he heard the soothing sound of Lukas speaking to him, seeking to calm him. And as the healing voice reached his heart, he knew this was the call he was supposed to make. Lukas could be trusted.
“I’m sorry,” Theodore said when at last he could breathe again. “When you called me this morning, you told me you would be there for me.” He sniffed and grabbed at a facial tissue on his nightstand to mop up the tears.
“I meant it.”
Theo took another breath. “Lukas, just do one thing for me.”
“Tell me what it is, and I’ll do all I can.”
“Please…take care of Mercy and Tedi for me.” Tears threatened again, but Theodore swallowed them back. “When I’m gone, be a father to my daughter, the kind I never was. Watch out for them.”
“Hold it, wait a minute.” There was alarm in Lukas’s voice. “Theo, why are you talking like this? Are you on pain medication from the biopsy? Sometimes that can really mess with your mind. Why don’t we just talk for a while and give you a chance to calm down.”
“I’ve been reading the medical journals,” Theo said. “I’ve read everything I could get my hands on about hepatocellular carcinoma. I know the statistics. I know the cancer has metastasized. I have a few months, at best.”
“No. That isn’t how you’re supposed to look at it.”
“Lukas, please. What I need from you is assurance. That’s all I ask. Just promise me that you’ll take care of them.”
“I promise, but I can’t allow you to write yourself off like that. There’s time, Theo, and only God knows how much time. Just make the most of what you have—whether it’s months or years or decades—and let Him take care of the rest. You’re still Tedi’s father.”
“But you promise to be there when I’m gone, whenever that may be?”
There was a heavy pause. “Yes, Theodore. I’ll be there.”
“For both of them?”
“Yes.”
Theodore lay back against his pillow and felt his body relax at last. “Thanks, Lukas, that’s what I needed to hear. I think I’ll say good night now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thursday afternoon Clarence steered Ivy’s Saturn to the curb in front of the new Crosslines house and switched off the ignition. He pulled out the keys and dropped them into his shirt pocket, then realized he would need them for the remote locking system, so he took them back out. After spending two years operating nothing more complicated than a TV remote, driving Ivy’s new car still made him nervous.
He glanced sideways at his passenger. Delphi’s profile was etched in sadness, her eyes still shadowed with remembered pain, her mouth drooped like a broken bow. She was just about to leave everything familiar and enter a world filled with strangers, and Clarence wished there was something he could say that would help her. He would go with her if he could—but she was going to have a hard enough time by herself. She didn’t need to lug a four-hundred-pound gorilla around with her.
She was tough. She could take care of herself if given a chance. That’s what he was doing here—making sure she got that chance.
“You’ll like Arthur and Alma,” he said, his heavy voice bursting through the silence of the car. “They’ll take good care of you.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said more softly. “You’ll see. Alma told me this morning that they’ve got some friends in Sikeston who have a home for battered women and children. They’re always finding jobs for people and helping them back on their feet. You might even get to take some classes at a trade school. You’ll be able to start a whole new life.”
She sighed at last and turned her head to shoot a cynical glance at him. “What’s in it for them?”
He couldn’t help smiling. Last spring he’d asked Lukas Bower the same thing. He still remembered what Lukas had told him. “Glory.”
She frowned. She obviously didn’t appreciate irony. “People don’t help you for nothing. There’s always a price.”
“Dr. Mercy didn’t charge you anything, did she? And neither did Ivy. They’ve taken care of my sis and me for months, and they never let us pay them back.”
The cynicism didn’t waver. “You jump their hoops. You’ve lost all that weight.”
“That was for me, not them. I would’ve died if I hadn’t lost it. But they would’ve still taken care of me. It’s the way these people are.”
Delphi sat watching him, searching his face. “It’s the way you are,” she said after a moment. “Why do you do it?”
That was a question he hadn’t really asked himself, because he’d been so excited that he was able to help. But he knew if he hadn’t been willing to receive help from Lukas and Mercy and Ivy in the first place, he wouldn’t be here now. And he knew Who had led him here.
“Ever heard of Jesus Christ?”
She rolled her eyes and reached for the door latch. “Sure, from those people who sent me back to Abner the first time I tried to escape. They didn’t want me, so they told me it was ‘God’s will’ that I go back and make my marriage work.”
“I think maybe they were talking about a different god. Lots of people don’t want to help or get involved, so they use ‘God’s will’ as an excuse. I know. I’ve been there. The way I look at it, those people are the ones who really ‘take God’s name in vain,’ like it says in the Bible.”
“Maybe.”
As if from force of habit, before Delphi got out of the car she glanced in the rearview mirror, then looked in each direction along the street. “You sure you didn’t see anybody following us? You couldn’t miss that old brown piece of junk he drives.”
“I drove around a lot before I came here, and I watched to see if anyone followed. I didn’t see anything, Delphi. Come on, let’s go inside.”
The front door of the Crosslines house opened when Clarence and Delphi were halfway up the walk, and Arthur Collins came striding out, a smile of welcome on his tan-creased face. The winter sun highlighted the red tones of his graying hair. He reached out and shook hands with Clarence with a hearty grip.
“You’re just in time. Alma can’t wait to meet our guest and show off her new prosthesis. I predict that in two weeks, a stranger won’t be able to tell she doesn’t have two flesh-and-blood legs like the rest of us.” His full attention turned to Delphi, who hovered beside Clarence in sudden, quiet watchfulness.
Delphi looked into Clarence’s eyes as if she were searching his soul, then she looked at Arthur, who led the way back toward the house. She stepped forward reluctantly.
Alma greeted them at the doorway in her wheelchair. “Clarence, darlin’, it’s so good to see you again.” Her customary smile of pure light radiated out and embraced him, then moved to shine on Delphi. “Hello, young lady. You’ve got to be Delphi Bell.”
No response.
Alma wheeled closer and reached out to gently touch Delphi’s tense arm. “I know you must be scared and wonderin’ what’s going to happen next, but, honey, you’ve come to the right place. We’re goin’ to do whatever it takes to help you back on your feet in a safe, new home. You’ll see. Are you hungry? I’ve got some snacks out in the kitchen. Want to come and get to know us a little better?”
For another moment, Delphi stood still. Then Clarence reached out and touched her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and her gaze caught his with a silent plea.
“I don’t think I’ll leave just yet,” he said. “Alma, you got any chocolate chip cookies? One little snack isn’t gonna hurt me.”
The relief in Delphi’s eyes cushioned his next blow. There were no cookies. He would have to settle for homemade rolls and apple butter. He could live with the disappointment.
Lukas finally reached Quinn’s former ambulance partner at home Thursday afternoon, nearly twenty-four hours after he’d spoken with Tex. She was a hard lady to track down.
Sandra’s quiet, gentle voice was hard to hear over the telephone as she informed him why she no longer worked with Quinn. “He didn’t care about the patients, Dr. Bower. You should have heard the way he talked about them and even laughed about them sometimes after we left the emergency room.”