by J. R. WRIGHT
Walking the park, stopping occasionally to watch riverboats pass, she suddenly got the feeling of being watched. And she was, as she discovered a short time later, when she spotted a middle aged man on a park bench nearby. He was kind of handsome, she noted, but much too old for her. At his age surely he was married, anyway. This thought, however, brought her thumb to the ring finger, finding nothing there. She had purposely not worn her dead grandmother’s wedding ring today and now felt vulnerable without it. Hurrying on, she left the park and eventually made her way back to the hotel.
In the room, she changed out of the blue suit and into blue jeans and a bulky white sweatshirt. She then went to the bathroom, let her hair down, brushed it fluffy, and touched up her lipstick. Finally, slipping into some brown suede cowboy boots, she put on the ring and left.
In the lobby, Marti extended the room one more day and left the hotel. Locating her car in the parking lot next door, she got in and drove away. There was nothing like a long drive in the country to clear her mind. And it wasn’t just the job, but a multitude of things, that needed to be thought through. Here it was four days since she had left home and all this stuff had already started coming her way. This newfound freedom somehow didn’t seem so liberating anymore.
Number one on the list: virginity. How long was that going to last? And was it even healthy at her age? Certainly, she could have handled that situation during the interview better today, had she not been so anxious over the mere thought of intercourse being involved. What was she thinking, asking such a question? It was a wonder Scott Harris hadn’t tossed her from his office over it. But since he hadn’t, now she wondered if he’d been completely honest with her. Still, she thought there must be another reason they were so generous with the hourly pay and shorter hours.
But then, could that bit of paranoia have been brought about by the natural insecurities that come along with virginity, as well? Of course it could. Freud had a lot to say about that. Now that she had made that determination, what on earth was she to do about it? She could hardly grab the first guy she saw coming down the street and say, hey, I’ve got this problem, can you help me out? She didn’t have the guts for that. So then what? Go to a bar, get wasted and hope to be picked up? That didn’t particularly appeal to her either. If she was going to do this thing, she at least wanted to remember it, perhaps even treasure the memory for years to come.
She had dated a fellow during nursing school for a time. And there was a bit of exploring that went on, but that was more clinical than anything else. After graduation, they each went their own way and that was the end of that. She had held his erect penis in her hand a few times. Even masturbated him on one occasion, just to see what that was like. She smiled about that now as if it were a big first step. And it was for her at the time, but that was near three years ago. Now it appeared she had gone backward ever since. The little bit of courage she had back then seemed to have disappeared, leaving her more insecure than ever. No doubt, her desire for sex had greatly multiplied since then. Perhaps that had something to do with the insecurity as well. Prolonged periods of unsatisfied sexual needs will do that to a person, she knew… even worse, if the word never entered the equation.
Having reached nothing that even resembled country yet, Marti looked around for a place to grab something to eat. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but she was hungry. The light breakfast had given out a while ago; now she could wait no longer. A roadside hamburger stand caught her eye and she pulled onto the gravel lot, parked the car and got out. Ten minutes later she was seated at an outside table devouring a hamburger and fries. Now, if only satisfying her other urgent needs were this simple, she mused.
CHAPTER THREE
Back at the hotel, near six, Marti was surprised to see Gloria, the attractive brunette receptionist from the Spencer House, sitting in the lobby.
“Martina!” she said cheerfully upon seeing her enter and sprang to her feet.
“Gloria, what are you doing here?”
“I thought we could talk. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Of course, but I’m not really dressed for…”
“You’re fine. I know a little place down the street where you may even spot a cowboy or two,” she laughed.
“Great,” Marti said, not necessarily in response to the part about cowboys. But she did slip off the old wedding ring and put it into her pocket.
“So I take it by our conversation this morning, you’re not familiar with St. Louis,” Gloria said on the way out of the hotel.
“Not at all. In fact, when I came across that bridge yesterday, it was the first time I’d ever been out of the state of Illinois. How’s that for being a homebody?” Marti laughed.
“Then you’re a greenhorn. Around here they call new arrivals greenhorns. I’ve been here five years and they’re still calling me that.”
“Wow!” Martina doubled back. “Gee, I don’t know if I appreciate being labeled a… Where does that come from?”
“Well, you know, St. Louis has a very historical past. I suppose it came from early travelers, who passed through here on their way west. Many were inexperienced in the survival skills needed to make it out there in the wild.”
“How many years ago was that?”
“Louis and Clark left out from here on their expedition. I guess that was about a hundred and fifty years ago. And, believe me, a lot of the people here are still rooted in the past. Some even protective of it. They don’t mind pointing it out when a person is an outsider, and do it at every opportunity.”
“Oh, my!”
“But I like it here. It’s a great place to live, otherwise. There’s always something going on. Lots of celebrations.” Gloria smiled over at her as they walked.
“You know Gloria, after what you just told me, maybe I should move on. I mean, I kind of have my heart set on settling in a place a bit more welcoming. If the people here are that way…”
“How were the people where you came from?” Gloria asked.
“Sonsofbitches… mostly.” Marti laughed.
“Well, if you’re looking for paradise, Martina, I’m afraid you may be looking for a while longer. At least I haven’t found it yet… and I’ve traveled extensively.”
Entering a place called Hannity’s, Gloria led the way past the packed bar to an empty booth in the back, next to an area where a pool table sat, at the very rear. Looking around, Marti noticed the place was very old, but charming in a way, with all the wood and marble everywhere. A waiter came up behind as they seated themselves.
“Grog or grub?” he bellowed out. “Weenie or martini?”
With that Gloria smiled at the short, white haired man, dressed in a green polo shirt with a white apron tied about his waist. “The weenie sounds inviting, but I’ll take the martini for now, extra wet, Lenny.”
“Oh, Gloria, honey you always know how to wind up my tired old clock,” the old man remarked. “And you, sweetie?” he focused on Martina.
“Just a glass of wine. Something red.”
“Cabernet, Merlot, or Bordeaux?”
“The Merlot, please,” Marti said, smiling up at him. She then noticed his twinkling blue eyes, nestled among a road map of wrinkles that surrounded them.
“Lenny, this is Martina,” Gloria made the introduction to her friend of five years.
“Martina! Beautiful name for a lovely lady,” Lenny smiled down on her.
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Marti laughed, her eyes crinkling as they often did when she was amused.
“He does,” Gloria confirmed and watched Lenny shuffle away. “I don’t know what I would have done without that man’s shoulder to cry on, when I first came here… fresh from a divorce, new town, new job. Lenny was a real lifesaver.”
Marti glanced to Lenny, working behind the bar… then refocused on Gloria. “It was good you found him then. It’s none of my business, but how old are you Gloria? I mean, you said you’d been here five years. You don’t look old enough to have
gone through college, gotten married… and… well you don’t look a day over thirty.”
“Thanks for the compliment. But I’m thirty-eight.”
“You don’t look it. So did you ever marry again?”
“Twice,” Gloria laughed heartily, her green eyes glistening. “You know what they say, the more you do it, the easier it gets.”
“So you’re single now?”
“Very! That may be it for me… at least for a while. Lenny introduced me to the last one,” Gloria groaned. “But say, this is supposed to be about you, Martina.”
“It is?”
“It is. Mister Harris mentioned you were undecided about the job. I thought maybe I could help in some way.”
“You mean… he sent you?”
“Yes, I guess he did,” Gloria fessed up. “But for all the right reasons. He thinks you may have gotten the wrong idea of what we’re all about.”
“I guess… I do have a question or two.”
Seeing them in serious conversation, Lenny eased the drinks onto the table and departed quickly.
“Fire away! I’ll try to clarify anything that concerns you.” Gloria took a sip of her martini, studying the innocent face across from her over the rim of the glass.
“First off, what makes me so special? What sets me apart from the other nurses who are out for the job?” Marti asked, attentive to Gloria’s glare.
“Perhaps you should look in a mirror, Martina, if you want the answer to that.”
“You see, that’s what bothers me. I just can’t get past the notion that primarily I’d be hired for my exterior appearance… that over and above my nursing expertise, which I’ve worked very hard to acquire over a short period of time. Frankly, it makes me feel like a brainless piece of meat.”
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong! I’m here to tell you from experience working at Spencer House for as long as I have, you wouldn’t even have gotten the interview if you had less than impressive credentials. The only thing different about us, as opposed to other quality private hospitals, is we believe in going that extra step in the selection process for the nurses we hire. We pick ours, from those qualified, who are a little more on the youthful, attractive side. We think that’s important, as Mister Harris may have told you. You ought to feel proud, Martina, to have that one in a million total package of attributes that we’re looking for.”
“Well, put that way, I do feel a bit more at ease. However, there is a difference between being attractive and being sexy. I’ve never considered myself sexy. Actually, I have trouble even thinking of myself as desirable, being that I was bone skinny and quite homely for much of my life. I never had a single date until I was in nursing school.” Marti laughed nervously, waiting for a reaction. “So if it’s sexy you’re after…”
“It isn’t!” Gloria said solemnly. “But one thing I’ve noticed; the aura you cast is just a bit too innocent. However, that’ll go away once you get yourself a steady boyfriend here and start having regular sex.”
Hearing that, Marti’s hazel eyes instantly glassed. “I didn’t know it showed.”
Gloria eyed her appraisingly and asked almost as if she already knew the answer, “Are you a virgin, Martina?”
With that, an abundance of tears began rolling down Martina’s cheeks and dripping off her chin, as she desperately tried to finger them away.
“Oh my God, you are! Just how old are you, girl?”
“Twenty-five,” Marti responded hesitantly, while digging in her purse for a Kleenex.
“Martina, you need to do something about that. Holy Mother of Christ! It’s a wonder you don’t have pimples!”
With that, Marti began to laugh. “I don’t, thank goodness!”
“You’re probably one of those girls that think you need to be in love first,” Gloria said sternly. “Well, take it from a girl who has been there, that ain’t going to happen, kid. Get out there. Get your feet wet a little, then swim into love if it feels right. It just doesn’t work the other way around. Men aren’t that patient.”
“You make it sound so easy, but haven’t you forgotten one thing? It takes two to tango.” Martina laughed again, this time from frustration.
“Hell, if you think you’re ready, Martina, Lenny knows everybody.” Gloria turned to get his attention.
Realizing what was about to happen, Marti near shouted, “No! No, Gloria, just let me handle it in my own way.”
“Suit yourself.” Gloria eyed her briefly before draining the remainder of her drink. She noticed now that Martina had hardly touched her wine. “Look, I have a place of my own. If you decide to take the job, you can hang your hat there for a while until you find a place of your own. Hotels can get expensive.”
“Thank you. If I decide…”
“Mind if I have another drink?” Gloria asked, looking around for Lenny.
“Not at all…. You may as well make it two,” Martina said, and took a drink of her wine. She was beginning to like this woman across from her. She marveled in Gloria’s take charge aggressiveness. No doubt it was something she could use more of. Take the bull by the horn, so to speak. The thought of that, however, aroused her, and she took another gulp of the wine, hoping it would serve to head off the blush she felt coming on.
CHAPTER FOUR
The following morning at six, Marti threw on some sweats and went through a routine of vigorous exercises that lasted nearly an hour. She had taken several bi-weekly self-defense courses during her nursing school years for extra credit and found it psychologically beneficial to keep up the training. In all that time she had never had a need to use it, but found keeping up with it comforting, nonetheless.
Then, after showering and changing into another suit outfit, she again went to the diner for breakfast. This time she ordered the works: bacon, eggs, and toast, and she took her time eating it. She was still mulling over the decision, but had ample time to come to it. She had promised it by noon, four hours away. But there was one remaining thing standing between her and agreeing to take the job. Would she be allowed occasional operating room duty? It was important to her she that continue to get experience in the OR. No two operations were ever exactly the same, and no one could ever learn it all, she knew. But knowledge of a certain procedure in an emergency could make the difference between life and death. And after all, the reason she had become a nurse in the first place had been to save lives.
At eleven, after having read the newspaper and puzzled out the crossword, Marti walked the last block to the Spencer House. Then, from across the street, she took in the entirety of the ornate gothic structure that stood before her. It was six stories tall, with steep gables rising far beyond that. No doubt charming, but perhaps even a little scary in its imposing nature, she thought before moving on.
Seeing Martina coming from across the street, Gloria stood when she pushed through the huge iron door. “Good morning, Martina,” she greeted cheerfully, dying to know her decision.
“Well, good morning to you, Gloria. Before saying anything else, I just want to sincerely thank you for last night. You’ll never know how much that did to ease my jitters from being in a strange town. And that Lenny, he’s such a laugh. It was a great evening!”
“I’m glad you had a good time. I had fun, too,” Gloria smiled broadly. “So, I’m dying to hear… Have you come to a decision?”
“I think so, but I do have one question… Is Mister Harris in?”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, Martina. He had an emergency at one of our other facilities and had to fly out last night.”
“I didn’t know there were any other Spencer Houses?”
“There aren’t. Spencer House is a stand-alone entity. However, there are five other private hospitals, each with its own unique name and specialty, under the umbrella of the holding company that owns us.”
“I see,” Marti said, although she really didn’t. But then, there was a lot she didn’t understand about the business.
“What’s the questio
n? Maybe I can answer it.”
Marti then told Gloria of her desire to work the OR, at least on occasion, and the reason why.
“I don’t see why not,” Gloria said. “There’s not a big demand among the nursing staff for those slots. That whole blood thing is disconcerting to most, as you must already know. I guess that’s why some places have nurses who specialize in it. But, I’ll tell you what, let’s get the scheduling nurse down here and see what we can come up with.”
“I hate to be such a bother!”
“Not at all!” Gloria picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers. “Yes, Mary, I have a prospective new nurse here who has a question about OR duty. Do you have a minute…? Oh, sure, I can do that.” Gloria hung up the phone. “She wants you to come up. Is that okay, Martina?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll tell you what, it’s slow this morning. Why don’t I just take you?” She put out the ‘Have a Seat’ sign and led the way toward the elevator. “This will give you a chance to see what goes on here first hand.”
“Oh, good,” Marti said, excitedly. Before long, then, she found herself face to face with Mary Greer, a fortyish rather plump redhead, in her office on the second floor. It was comforting to Marti to know the youthful appearance rule hadn’t stretched through the administration staff, at least. Mary was somewhat homely.
After the introductions, Marti made her request, and Mary got right to explaining how things worked at Spencer House.