NECESSARY MEASURES

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NECESSARY MEASURES Page 29

by Alexander, Hannah


  Jade Myers looked good too, with that short midnight dark hair that set off her dark deep-set eyes. And she’d appeared especially pleased to see Grant this evening—a little more pleased than a town mayor ordinarily was to see a doctor.

  For some reason that bugged Lauren. The fact that it bugged her really bugged her. Jade was dating Norville Webster now so why couldn’t she be satisfied with one man?

  Unrestrained feminine laughter erupted from Grant’s office and once again Muriel paused in the middle of a question about a patient. She quirked her mouth at Lauren. “Honey? You okay?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Something bothering you?”

  “No, why?”

  “You look like you just sat on a tack.”

  “Nope. Here’s the chart on Mrs. Reeves in five.”

  The celebration in Grant’s office was especially notable because—typical of William Butler—he had been communicating with the insurance companies while he was “taking it easy” in Ohio. Today when he walked into the ER with Jade he had three impressive checks to show Grant from insurance companies that had been dragging their feet—and their funds—since the water poisoning.

  “I guess you realize we’ll all be able to breathe a little easier after the first of the year,” Muriel said.

  Lauren looked at her. “Why’s that?”

  “Dr. Caine will no longer be chief of staff. That was one of the reasons I decided to come back when Dr. Sheldon called me.”

  Lauren nodded. “I think Dr. Caine must have some problems with burnout.” She recalled the way he had treated Jamey when she came in with strep throat. There had been a tenderness beneath that prickly exterior. Also, he had been deeply affected by Oakley’s death.

  Word had spread via the hospital grapevine that Darla Caine was no longer living with her husband. That might tend to make a guy behave like a jerk.

  “Guess who I’m having over for company tomorrow night,” Muriel said.

  “Who?”

  “William Butler.”

  Lauren grinned. “Our William Butler?”

  When Muriel smiled it always encompassed her whole face and her eyes glowed with warm humor. “I checked. There’s no rule against it at this hospital. I think the man’s a doll, I’ve thought so for years and he’s eligible now.”

  Laughter from Grant’s office once more floated out to them.

  “So why did you decide to do this all of a sudden?” Lauren asked.

  “After Caine tried to fire me I just got to thinking that my biggest regret would be that I was no longer working where I could see a good, kind, strong man on the job every day.” She shrugged. “I took the chance. Life isn’t getting longer or easier and I happen to know William is lonely.”

  “What about you?” Lauren asked.

  “I’m lonely but I can cope. I think women handle singleness a lot better than most men.” She leaned closer. “They need us, sweetie. And if I don’t make my move someone else will.”

  “What did William say when you asked him?”

  Muriel grinned and those dark doe-like eyes glowed with anticipation. “He’s bringing dessert.”

  Lauren chuckled as she finished report and she gave Muriel a quick hug—partly because it was good to be working with her again and partly because the older woman had answered a question that had nagged Lauren since last Saturday.

  She’d prayed about it, she’d thought about it, she’d prayed some more, asking God to make the answer obvious. Muriel had just been used by God to answer that prayer.

  And so she waited until Jade and William left the ER. When Grant was alone in his office, she knocked on the threshold and waited for him to look up from his work.

  It was impossible to miss the light that entered his eyes when he saw her.

  “I’ve just drawn the amazing conclusion that a simple date doesn’t have to lead to marriage,” she announced.

  His expression didn’t change. “You’re right, it doesn’t have to. But what if it did?”

  “What if it didn’t?”

  “We’d still have a good time. How about next Thursday? My deposition is that morning and should be completed by noon. I’ll drive up to St. Louis Wednesday, check on Mom and spend the night there, endure the legal grilling, and be back here by five Thursday evening. We’ll miss some of the weekend rush and get better seats at Lambert’s Cafe.”

  “Are you sure you want to drive all the way back to Springfield after being on the road the whole afternoon?”

  “I’ve heard some good things about Lambert’s. Of course, if you wanted to stay closer to home there’s this nice little Italian place down by the Landing in Branson.”

  “How about a picnic like we did for Thanksgiving?” she said. “You pack some of your gourmet fare and we can park your car down at the Table Rock Dam. Then after we eat we could hike around the lake with a fishing pole and get covered in mud—”

  “You really aren’t a romantic, are you?”

  “You don’t think fishing is romantic?”

  “Lambert’s Cafe is famous, with plenty of hillbilly cooking and throwing of rolls. I think it’ll be worth the drive.”

  “I love Lambert’s.”

  “Pick you up at six Thursday?”

  “The kids could come with us.”

  A smile spread across his face like warm honey. “Scared?”

  These nice, warm, fuzzy feelings of friendship she shared with Grant Sheldon and his family could become something more than warm and fuzzy. They could become sharp and powerful. During these past couple of weeks Grant and his children had dominated a major portion of her thoughts. A ready-made family took a much more challenging leap of faith than choosing to care about a man with no children.

  His grin disappeared. “Lauren?”

  “Okay I’m in.”

  “Why thank you ma’am,” he said dryly. “I’m charmed.”

  ***

  Archer and Jessica walked into their home to find that some unnamed elves had found their way inside and left it looking and smelling like Christmas. A live tree stood in the corner trimmed with crocheted hearts, nativity figures of lace, strings of berries, and bell-shaped sugar cookies with green-and-red sprinkles. Archer remembered seeing nursing home patients crocheting those hearts earlier this month—those who still had fingers nimble enough to crochet.

  On the mantel over the fireplace lay an evergreen spray with ribbons of brilliant blue, purple, and silver.

  They entered the kitchen to find a plate of assorted homemade cookies covered in blue plastic wrap and the refrigerator held a pot of beef stew.

  Jessica stepped up behind Archer and put her arms around him. “And you thought being a pastor’s wife would be a hardship on me. I think I’m going to love it.”

  ***

  “Lauren? You got a minute?”

  The uncharacteristically timid voice came from behind Lauren as she stepped out into the hallway, purse slung over her shoulder as she prepared to head for home.

  She turned to find her redheaded friend standing there, arms crossed in front of her.

  “Gina? Is that really you? You’re actually speaking to me?”

  Gina’s face flushed. “I’m sorry. I deserved that.” She sighed and glanced along the hallway then back again. “I was totally wrong about everything, okay? I feel really bad about yelling at you.”

  Lauren put a hand on Gina’s shoulder. “Don’t bare your soul out here in the hallway. You never know who’ll be listening. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria so we can pick our eavesdroppers?”

  Gina gave her a hesitant smile. “How about we step outside for a few minutes? We’ve got our coats on and it isn’t that cold and I’ve got a lot I need to—”

  “Then let’s get to it.” Lauren led the way out.

  “You were right about Todd and me,” Gina blurted as they stepped out the door.

  “I was? Because I was beginning to think I was wrong for nagging you so often about it. I think I was tryin
g to do the work of the Holy Spirit.”

  “Can’t the Holy Spirit sometimes work through His people? I wish I’d listened to you sooner. You were simply worried about me. I made everything harder for everyone.” Her voice cracked. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and slumped to the edge of light from the glassed entryway. “It’s been really awful.”

  “What happened?”

  Gina shrugged and then sniffed as she stepped to the edge of the walk to gaze up into the sky. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the things you said. It got to the point where I could no longer convince myself you were wrong, hard as I tried.”

  “You’ve changed your mind?”

  Gina glanced over her shoulder at Lauren. “I can’t explain to you how I felt when my husband left me.”

  “I know. You were right. I’ve never been married.”

  “I can’t tell you how devastating it feels to be rejected by the one person who is supposed to know me on a deeper level than anyone else in the world. I can’t describe the need for reassurance that I’m an attractive woman—to need that kind of assurance from any man just because I’ve been convinced by one man that I’m worthless.”

  “You’re right,” Lauren said. “It would be impossible to make me understand it. But I do know that what your husband did to you was wrong. Totally wrong.” Lauren stepped to the edge of light and stood beside her. “You never talked much about it but obviously it’s something that still causes you a lot of pain.”

  “How’s somebody supposed to get over being dumped like that? Not just me but the kids...” She sniffed and dashed tears from her face. “I thought he was going to work one morning. It was three days after Cody was born. I got a call from his supervisor an hour after he should have been there, asking where he was.”

  “You mean he just drove away?”

  “They.” Gina’s chin wobbled she swallowed. “They drove away. They’d already made the plans.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You knew he left me for another woman.”

  “Yes.”

  “And it finally began to soak in on me that Todd was doing the same thing. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that.” Gina blinked and looked down at her folded hands. “I can’t believe I was actually thinking of doing the same thing to someone else.”

  “But you didn’t do it.” Lauren allowed the relief to flow through her. “What did you tell Todd?”

  “I told him about what happened to me. I told him to go back to his family.”

  “Is he going to?”

  Gina shrugged. “He wasn’t speaking much when I finished. I guess it made him mad but I can’t do anything about that.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “The right thing would have been to avoid all this in the first place.” Gina looked up at Lauren. “If you hadn’t been so interested in my life—”

  “Go ahead and call it what it really is,” Lauren said. “I was nosy.”

  “You’re my friend. After you said what you did I couldn’t stop placing myself in her shoes, feeling her pain. Every time I looked at Todd, every minute we spent together talking and laughing and sharing, I felt like a thief. I was stealing minutes with him that she needed, that their children needed.” Gina’s shoulders slumped. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “I’m sorry I was rough on you.”

  “Thanks for caring enough to talk to me about it. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to have anything to do with me.”

  “Why don’t we start meeting for lunch again?”

  Gina looked up at her, eyes widening, lips parted. “You mean it?”

  “Sure do.”

  “And walking sometimes in the evening?”

  Lauren put her arms around Gina. “I’d love it. It’s good to have you back.”

  ***

  Jamey’s blue eyes widened with surprise—and a little fear—when she opened the door and saw Peregrine standing there. He had always enjoyed getting that reaction from people.

  “Hello there, sweet thing.” He gave her his most charming smile.

  “Simon.” She didn’t seem happy to see him.

  “Peregrine, remember? That’s my true name.”

  She winced as if she smelled something bad. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Coming to see my baby.” He pressed his hand against her belly then reached for the door and shoved it open. “Let me in or our baby’s going to have a jailbird for a dad.”

  She gasped and stepped backward. “You can’t stay here. I read the papers, Simon. They’re looking for you and some folks know about us. They’ll find you here.”

  He shoved harder. “Are you saying you don’t want me here?”

  “I don’t want to do no drugs. I’m trying to straighten out. What’re you doing?”

  He slammed the door shut behind him and locked it. “Shut up. If you don’t go telling anybody—”

  “But I don’t want to get in trouble with the police.”

  “Then keep your mouth shut, okay?” He reached up and covered her mouth with his hand. “You know what quiet means? It means keep your mouth shut!”

  Tears filled her stupid blue eyes. She gave a startled nod and stood motionless, as if afraid he might hit her. He liked a woman who minded him. The younger ones were better at that. Jamey was... what... sixteen? Seventeen? Good age. By the time they hit twenty they didn’t listen so well.

  Trisha Caine had been like that, all nice and soft and sweet when he first met her. By the time he’d moved with her to Springfield he couldn’t stand her mouth. He’d tried to slap it off a couple of times.

  Jamey took a quivering breath and looked down at her hands, which were folded over her fat stomach.

  “There now, that isn’t so bad is it?” He trailed his hand across her cheek and fingered the dull blond hair that fell around her face. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” He kept his voice gentle—couldn’t have her screaming or carrying on loud enough to wake the neighbors. “I never hurt you, did I?” Without waiting for an answer he flipped off the light. The police might be watching her place even now in the middle of the night.

  “Are you... you going to be here long?” she asked.

  “I just got to sleep awhile, okay? Got to crash. Leave me alone and let me use the bed and keep watch out the window.” He peered around the shabby room. There was only one window in the whole place.

  He heard a soft sigh that sounded like relief. He didn’t care. He just needed some sleep.

  Chapter 28

  At nine o’clock Thursday morning, nearly two weeks after the wedding, Grant sat beside Jay at the large oval conference table of the plaintiff’s attorney. It was an elegant room, comfortable enough for him to lean back in his chair and relax. He didn’t feel like relaxing. At the moment, he was thinking about the inconsequential fact that he had discussed the case with Lauren after having been told not to discuss it with anyone when he first received word of the suit. Silly to worry about that now, of course, but worry was an obsession of his.

  Jay opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder. With a smile and a flourish, he slid it toward Grant. “Read it and celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?”

  Jay glanced toward the entryway then leaned closer to Grant and lowered his voice. “The short take is that your former colleague Teschlow had to backpedal halfway through his deposition Monday. I think the hospital and the plaintiff’s attorney realized we would only need one expert witness who could point out to a jury that his use of a depolarizing agent on a patient with myasthenia gravis would definitely have killed her. Dr. Teschlow’s decision to intubate her was a judgment call. He can argue until the sun explodes that you did not give him a proper verbal report but even the sparse documentation the hospital supplied on the case failed to back him up.”

  “Meaning I came up here for nothing?”

  “You still have to be present for the deposition and jump through their hoops. Still, once the other attorneys examine the facts and count t
he costs, I can’t see them pursuing this. I expect the hospital to settle. Just be on your toes for this.”

  There was a shuffle of feet on thick carpeting and a murmur of polite greetings. Grant leaned back in his chair as the other men in conservative three-piece suits filed through the doorway and endured introductions. Grant geared up for battle.

  Jay had warned him to remain alert during the questioning; the attorneys for the plaintiff might switch from the mundane questions about times and dates and signatures to an indirectly worded question that could catch him off guard and confuse the issue.

  Grant remained stoic during the process. He answered countless questions about his place of employment, his licensures, his associational memberships. He identified nine or ten exhibit documents relating to the treatment of Irlene Goodwin on the date in question. He answered multiple questions referring to the copies of medical records that had been so strangely absent from the hospital files. As coached by Jay, he gave only the information required by questioning and volunteered no additional comments. He did not smile, he did not behave with antagonism.

  This had to be the most boring job imaginable.

  Grant was stifling his first yawn and glancing at the clock on the wall when Mr. Duggins, the attorney for the plaintiff, paused and looked down at his notes. Jay cleared his throat and leaned forward. Grant stiffened. That was his cue to be alert. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the most boring job.

  “Dr. Sheldon, on the night you treated Irlene Goodwin, on ...” He frowned, looked down at his notes, and announced the date Grant treated Irlene for the last time. “When it became clear that your patient was having increased difficulty with her airway, why did you decide, against the guidelines for standard of care, to forego an intubation?”

  Grant hesitated. Jay had warned him to tread lightly and not to answer any question without considering each word with suspicion. Duggins was attempting to confuse him with a leading compound question that introduced damaging suppositions.

 

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