by Barbara Ebel
She shrugged off his other remarks. “If I do this night call, I would expect to be reimbursed the extra four hours.”
“Not a problem. I will instruct Jeffrey Appleton about the extra hours and pay to go to the locum’s agency for you. In addition, I’ll try to get you time and a half.”
“Now we’re talking.” Viktoria sipped the tea and raised her eyebrows. “So, what’s in it for the group if I’m the one pulling call?”
Jay accentuated his wrinkled forehead. “Now, I’m scheduled for tomorrow night. However, if I have a bad night, it’ll trash my alertness for the CRNAs wedding and reception on Saturday. Should be fun to watch those two get hitched, plus, we’re in need of an awesome party around here. I want to make sure I go and that I’m not walking around like a sleep-deprived zombie.”
“Okay, then, sign me up.” She could see Buddy’s tail wagging a mile a minute.
When he finished lunch, Dr. Huff brought over two pieces of chocolate cake dolloped with whipped cream. “Thanks, and this is in anticipation of Saturday’s wedding cake. Help yourself.”
It did appear like he was practicing for the CRNAs’ bash.
-----
“Time is quarter to three, but you’re finished,” Dr. Nettle said. He held a see-through plastic cup and, as far as Viktoria could make out, it looked like a milkshake. “You can’t staff another case with only fifteen minutes to go.”
“Makes sense. I’ll go postop on Wilma Lancet from yesterday.”
“I’ll start telling the CRNAs not to round on your post op patients. They’ll like that, it will save them some work.”
“That will go over big. Where on earth did you procure that anyway?”
“My caramel frappe? One of the three-to-eleven OR nurses just brought it in for me. When I arrange for her to pick something up, I treat her as well.”
Viktoria wiggled her head. “This OR is teaching me more about what to buy in a coffee shop than my continuing medical education audio disc teaches me about anesthesia.”
“Hey, listen, have a good night and day tomorrow. I heard you took Jay up on his offer, so just be here tomorrow at 7 p.m.”
“Can do.”
Viktoria sprang up the staircase to the OB floor where she found Wilma Lancet in the first room by the nurse’s station. Comfortable in bed, the thirty-year old strained to keep her eyes open.
“Mrs. Lancet, it’s Dr. Thorsdottir. I’ve come to see how you’re doing after your C-section.”
She pushed off the pillow and sat up. “You just missed my baby. I’m breastfeeding, you know. One of the most beautiful, natural things I’ve ever done, but I wish I wasn’t so tired.”
“You had surgery yesterday and, before that, you were trying to thrust your baby out. You’re entitled to be tired.”
“Not only that, the nurses woke me up routinely during the night. Hospitals are the last places in the world to fall asleep.”
“So true. How about your anesthetic experience? Any problems that you’re aware of?”
Wilma shook her head. “I don’t remember counting backwards from ten.”
“I didn’t ask you to. There wouldn’t have been enough time for you to count back to nine.”
Wilma gave Viktoria a thumbs up. “Thanks, Dr. Thorsdottir.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck with your baby and enjoy your breastfeeding.”
Viktoria left to write a note in her chart. It was the exception rather than the rule for patients to thank her for their anesthesia, so she felt pleased. She took a seat but noticed Jessy Winter in the cubbyhole desk behind her.
“Dr. Winter, I thought you’d be in the office all day.”
Dr. Winter swiveled his chair and widened his forlorn eyes. “I had a cancellation, so I’m making my p.m. rounds, and then heading back.” He rested his elbows on his lap, his hands forward and clasped. His upper body sagged lower with the weight of apparent despair.
She scrutinized his body; he seemed a lot shorter than his six-foot three frame. “Your patient, Mrs. Lancet, is a happy camper after her C-section yesterday.”
“Newborn babies do that to OB patients,” he said with no enthusiasm.
“I’m off-duty now. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Nobody can do anything for me.”
Viktoria leaned forward. “Don’t assume that, Dr. Winter, because it’s not true.”
He bolted upright. “My divorce decree is all sealed up tight as a wad. The only positive outcome is that I’m rid of someone who wants nothing to do with me—although she doesn’t want to be rid of my money.”
“Money means nothing. Your happiness is what’s important. I suspect that a greater percentage of people who are poor are happy compared to the rich.”
“If the money comes in because you’re working like a dog and then exits to someone else who isn’t, then that means almost zero happiness.”
“In such a situation, you must create your own happiness from the bottom up. For instance, start an immense love affair with the time you spend with your daughter, or a puppy, or the beauty of Mother Earth.”
Jessy rubbed his hands together. “Viktoria, that sounds perfect in theory, but it doesn’t work that way.”
“It can, if you allow it to.”
Jessy frowned and slowly rose. “Whatever you say, but I better swing back to the office. I’ll see you around.”
“Please holler. My ears are open for listening.”
-----
From the open door of the driver’s seat, Viktoria swung her legs to the ground. She could hear an argument going on inside next door as she pushed the car door closed behind her. She walked around to retrieve her things on the passenger’s seat, including her gun from the glove compartment. A thud sounded at the man’s front door, making her uncomfortable that the fight had escalated into things being thrown.
From her unit, Buddy responded with a bark, so she scampered to open the door. She no sooner put her purse down in the room and matched his greeting with a full hug, when someone struck something against the partitioning wall in response to the bark. The verbal fighting began anew between the man she’d met before and a woman.
Viktoria scoured the room while intermittently picking up words from the sideshow next door. She found one of the store-bought pillows shoved under the bed, but it was not frayed.
“Not bad, Buddy. Good boy!”
She changed quietly, slipped on running shoes, and packed a water bottle and a cloth travel bowl in her small backpack. She popped a Sukkulaoihjupaour lakkris in her mouth and a few in her pocket. When she reached for the dog’s leash and fastened it to his collar, his excitement ramped up.
Viktoria cracked the door open as the door next door opened and a young woman burst out to the wooden landing. “Get yourself someone else to sleep with, you prick!”
The woman took a second look at the step down before she set her short heels on it and beeped her key fob to open her car. She threw her gaze at Viktoria and eyed the sky like the man inside was a piece of work. Her sporty sedan took off.
“And keep the trap on that mutt shut.” The man stood, shoeless, at the doorway. He leaned his upper body toward Buddy like a blow to his head was imminent.
Viktoria tugged Buddy closer to her. Damn, she hated situations like this. When you must decide whether to cross the line for standing up for yourself, or caving into a bully because you’re afraid of the consequences for yourself or a loved one. In this case, her new dog.
“My poor dog didn’t know how to respond. He must have been afraid someone was going to get hurt next door when he heard some thumping on the wall.”
With a stupefied expression, he narrowed his eyes and retreated back into his suite.
She sighed with relief as she coaxed Buddy forward. He was overdue for his walk, and had been detained, so he lifted his leg on her front tire. The yellow stream pinged on the hubcap and ran down the rubber to make a puddle on the ground.
“Great. You created a
call signal for every dog who passes my car before the next rainfall to pee over that scent you just left.” She shook her head. Talking to her dog outside while alone was not a wise practice.
Viktoria and Buddy circled the areas by the trees and looped back to the front office. She dinged the little bell on the front counter and Mason peered around the corner of the tiny back office.
“Miss Vikky,” he said.
“How are you today, Mason?”
“Finished my newspaper, so I’m a wealth of knowledge about what’s going on. In the United States, anyway.”
“What about at the Stay Long Hotel in Masonville?”
“Funny you should ask. Your neighbor lodged a complaint again about your dog.”
“Then match his with a grievance of my own. His argument this afternoon with a woman in his room went on to throwing things at the walls.”
“I’ll make a note. Say, how’d your pillows fare?”
“Not too shabby.” Viktoria pointed at Buddy. “He accidentally pushed the one he was engaged with under the bed, which saved it from the pillow monster.”
Mason stepped out to the counter and reached underneath. He leaned over the top. “Here you go, fella.” He opened his hand to a mini milk bone and Buddy swiped it into his mouth.
“You’ve made a friend for life,” Viktoria said. She tipped her forehead with her hand and egged the dog outside. “Let’s go, Buddy.”
Viktoria proceeded briskly down Hospital Road, this time in the direction of the coffee shop. She fastened Buddy to an outside table and went in.
Linda faced the espresso machine where steam piped into the air and a hot drink fell into a cup.
“I can tell those braids anywhere,” Viktoria said.
Linda swirled around and smiled. “How’s the dog?”
“Stitches still bandaged. He seems to be a happy camper.”
“I should say. Better than what fate had in store for him before you found him. Maybe I’ll see you and him when you go back to have his stitches removed.”
“He’s outside now.”
Linda strained her neck. “He’s a beauty.”
“Someday you’ll be taking care of dogs just like him.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Just remember, enjoy the journey along the way, which is more important than the end result.”
“I’ll take that to heart. What’ll you have?”
“A small dark roast today.” She chuckled and added, “I want the caffeine to rev me up to continue my run. Going to turn and head in the other direction for my ‘breakfast’ dinner.”
Linda rang up her coffee and poured from the nearby dispenser. “The vet’s office took care of another sad dog case this week after yours.”
Viktoria rubbed her chin.
The barista leaned forward with Viktoria’s drink. “A driver brought in a young, mixed German Shepherd hit by a car. He found it by the side of the road. I call any of those a hit-and-run. Dr. Price treated his dehydration and injuries, but he’s waiting to see how much function the dog will have with his hind legs.”
“What’s wrong with people? That sounds awful and that’s a bad record for this town. Poor thing. Is the man going to keep him?”
“He says no. We’re hitting social media hard for someone to adopt him.”
“Good luck.”
Viktoria stepped outside and crouched down to Buddy. The dog focused on her with undivided attention and suddenly swiped her cheek three times in a row. She almost spilled her coffee.
“Let me drink this, Buddy.” She sat at the wrought-iron table and enjoyed the view and the dog. The area was more upbeat and vivacious than down the other end by the waffle joint. There was a medium-sized chain clothing store across the road as well as a nearby movie theater. An ice cream store was close to the coffee shop. Two girls stopped and petted Buddy until Viktoria had to excuse herself with the dog. They went back out to the sidewalk and began their jog the other way.
CHAPTER 14
A light sweat gathered on Viktoria’s forehead by the time she slowed her pace. She fumbled for her keys in front of her suite as Buddy swayed his body with eagerness, coaxing her to continue their run.
“Don’t you want to eat?”
When she swung the door open, the dog ran ahead. “Well, you must understand what ‘eat’ means.”
She measured out his kibbles and made sure to reinforce the meaning of ‘wait’ while she placed the bowl on the floor. True to his style, he inhaled the food with a few gulps.
Now it was her turn to grab dinner. “You mind the house,” she said, rinsing the bowl. “It’s my turn to eat, but you can chill here.”
Buddy lapped up water and then followed her to the door. He planted himself flat on the carpet as if understanding he wasn’t invited.
She slipped out without any more reassurances to the dog. He was catching on to their routines. She was also amazed that he left the wrapped bandage alone around his lower leg, sparing him from wearing a nasty cone device around his neck.
Outside, she contemplated whether to drive or to walk to the waffle place. She leaned against the railing watching a woman and a burly teenager unpack suitcases from their car, after pulling up to the last rental.
She stepped down to her car and peered over to the other buildings where one of the worker’s pickup trucks was now parked in front of building two. Digging in her pocket, she grabbed another milk chocolate liquorice to suck on, and strutted over. One thing she had learned while staying in strange places, was to be aware of her surroundings. That included keeping tabs on people or workers who spent time regularly in the facility and grounds. Plus, what if she ever needed help from them?
The baseball capped man, who Viktoria recognized as “Skinny,” went to his truck and pulled three long boards out from the bed. “Hey, lady,” he said while laying eyes on her.
“Working hard, I see. You guys now working on this building?”
“Yup, just starting.” He tapped the wood resting on his shoulder. “Baseboards and walls need painting. By the way, I’m David.”
“Viktoria, a temporary resident.”
“So, we’ve noticed.”
The “skinnier” man came out, only to toss his cigarette butt. He walked over to help by grabbing more boards from David’s truck and tossed his head in Viktoria’s direction. “I could’a sworn I saw you at the restaurant down the street two nights ago.”
“Likewise. Any particular suggestions about what to eat there?”
“You won’t find no Greek yogurt, avocados, or spinach salads there. Just a middle-class skilled workers’ menu to fill bellies when there’s a stomach hole to be filled.” He grinned as he took a step. “However, they make a BLT on Texas toast. Now that’s pretty tasty. Problem with me is that I’m either hungry or I’m not. I’ll eat two of them in a row but other times I can’t even go in there. I skip meals.”
When she saw him sleeping in his truck the other night, she thought, maybe he’d had one of his sporadic eating binges, his sugar spiked, and then it fell like a rock.
“Peek in and see how bad this place looks before we refurbish it,” David said.
Viktoria scanned the room. The ceiling wore a stain from a water leak, the discolored sofa needed to be replaced, and the corner of the counter bulged inward with a dent like it’d been rammed with a wheelchair. “It’s shabby, but not as terrible as some places.”
“Our boss, the ‘Man,’ pinches pennies,” Skinnier said. “He knows the breaking point before he starts losing business, and then he puts us on the new job to salvage a place. It’s like he’s saving up to pay us at the same time. “By the way, I’m Fred.”
“Viktoria.” Her eyes settled to the left, the bedroom area. The third, skinniest man was inclined on the bed, not lying down, but not sitting up against the wall either. The lumped-up horde of pillows boosted him to forty-five degrees and his eyes were shut. One arm draped across his abdomen and the other one was extended and g
auze stuck out from a wide bandage.
“He cut himself on some sharp metal,” David said. “We told him to get off his feet, and he’s damn well fallen asleep.”
“Working in these places, make sure you’re all up-to-date with your tetanus boosters.”
“We’ll ask him when he wakes up,” Fred said. “Are you a nurse?”
“Doctor.”
Fred’s eyebrows popped up. “If I get sick, I’m coming to you.”
Viktoria let it go. They didn’t need to know anymore about her.
“Say, where’s that dog of yours?” David asked. Holding the wood the whole time, he finally placed the pile on the floor.
“Taking it easy. Well, I better run.”
“See you eating pancakes,” Fred winked.
Viktoria went outside and decided on taking her car. She hit the key fob and grasped her key chain tighter. Besides having a gun, she always carried a small can of mace on her key chain. She went in and out of establishments and held her can of mace in plain sight. Everyone was ‘blind’ to her obvious, out-in-the open “weapon.”
At the door, Fred lit up another cigarette as he watched Viktoria leave. “She didn’t think this place was too bad,” he said over his shoulder.
David lined a baseboard against the nearby wall to measure it. He would need to cut it down to size. Behind the wall, a scratching, scurrying sound went by. “If she knew about the mice and rats behind the walls and running amok around here, she’d think differently.”
“Yeah, but she’s in the best building. Thank goodness, especially since she’s a doctor and all.”
“She should be staying in that ritzy hotel for tourists closer to the lake.”
“But that would be an unnecessary long drive. Hey, I wonder if she’s married.”
“Dream on. I think it’s time to make Ben get off his ass and help out around here.”
“Leave him alone. It was his turn.”
-----
Friday morning, Jeffrey Appleton meandered over to the OR to grab the day’s OR schedule. Sometimes he would go over for the heck of it. The pulse of activity at that time of day was intoxicating to him and, having worked in an OR as a nurse before, he understood the push to move cases along on time and the efficiency needed to prevent delays.