“It’s been a pleasure meeting you all,” he said after Faith told him their names. He started to walk away but could feel Reagan’s eyes burning into the back of his head. His hand stretched out to the blonde he now knew to be Mercy. “Nice meeting you, Mercy.” She shook his hand but turned her attention to Reagan right after.
As Dean walked away, he could hear them whispering. “Why didn’t he shake your hand?” Mercy asked. “You’re the one who will work with him the most.”
“Beats me,” Reagan huffed. “Not that I care. He’ll address me eventually.”
REAGAN WATCHED THE new doctor walk away and step into the elevator before she turned her attention back to Mercy. She recognized his voice, and a lump formed in her throat. I have to work with him! He found her in the men's bathroom, and now they’d have to work side by side? If ever she had the nerve to tell a surgeon to get his own scalpel, he’d be the one she’d say it to. “I don’t like him,” she told Mercy.
“I do,” Mercy giggled. “You should have felt his strong grip.”
That was enough, Dean Everly made a point of belittling her in front of the nursing staff, but he would not get away with it. Reagan would feel his grip, even if it was by him trying to get her hands off his throat.
She raced over to the elevator and caught it just seconds before the door closed. They were the only ones on it as they ascended. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Reagan demanded. Faith was correct, she thought, she was the best damn scrub nurse he’d ever have.
“Pardon me?”
“Oh, don’t give me that crap,” she shouted. “You’re not any better than me just because you’re a doctor and I’m a nurse. In fact,” her hands cupped her hips as she inched toward his face. “I could do these surgeries myself because I’ve been assisting with them for years.”
He backed against the wall. She didn’t know what scared him more, being in his face or the fact that she had a voice. Then it hit her, he knew she was the babbling idiot from the men’s room. Reagan recognized his voice when he spoke but disguised her own in hopes he would never figure her out. But, he did.
“Your voice is back,” Dean said as he kept his eyes focused on the door.
Reagan stood in his face and stuck her hand out. Her cheeks burned from embarrassment. Dean didn't budge. Reagan turned and banged on the panel to stop the elevator and returned toward him. “Shake the damn hand,” she screamed. “This is what professionals do when they meet, when they’re told they’ll be working with each other.”
He glanced down at her hand, his remained in his pocket. Is this ass for real? Her hand pushed forward until it touched his gut, her eyes widened, and head cocked to the side. Dean removed his hand from his coat, but still didn’t touch her. Dean paused, “Did you wash them yet?”
“What? I’m a nurse, I scrub in for surgeries, yes I wash my hands,” she said and inspected them to make sure she had nothing on them that would cause him to act the way he did.
“You left the men’s room earlier without washing,” Dean informed her. Reagan backed up, unable to contain her laughter.
She looked down at her hands once more and sniffed them just to see the look on his face. “I went in there to cry, not to use the facilities. Is that what your cold shoulder is all about?”
Dean said nothing as he kept his eyes on hers, he must have wondered if she spoke the truth or not. Finally, his hand gripped hers and he roared with laughter. Reagan couldn’t help but laugh with him. Dean reached over her shoulder and restarted the elevator. They laughed so hard her stomach hurt. She held onto it for the rest of the ride.
The beep of the elevator alerted them they landed on the Pediatric floor. “I’m sorry about all of that,” he said as they stepped out into the hall. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”
Reagan followed him into the staff lounge and helped herself to a cup. “Believe it or not, I didn’t have any yet today, well a few sips, but that’s it.”
“So that’s your problem.” Dean grinned. Reagan slumped down into a chair as he pulled another to sit beside her. “I’m joking,” he cleared his throat and pressed his forearms into the table, “Are you okay?”
Reagan looked around the room, they were alone, but she still didn’t want to talk about it. The day had been busy, she almost forgot about her problems. If every day were like that, she’d be fine, but believe it or not, not all days were busy. “I’m fine,” she answered him. The coffee went down, and Reagan stood to refill her cup. Dean crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat but said nothing. “Well, I should get going Doctor Everly, but I’ll see you around. I believe we have heart surgery scheduled for the morning. Will you be assisting?”
He stood and walked her out of the staff room. “Yes, and I’m looking forward to it. It’s been a few weeks since,” he moved his hands like they were cutting something open, “well, you know.”
Reagan understood. Whenever she took vacation time, she always itched to get back into the OR upon her return. She could only imagine what it was like for the surgeons. She stuck her hand out, this time he shook it without hesitating. “Nice to meet you,” she said as she walked out of the room.
“Same here,” he said as Reagan approached the elevators again. “Oh hey, Reagan,” he shouted out. “If you need a friend, I’m up here.”
Reagan turned and smiled at the man. He stood with his hands in his lab coat pockets, watching her leave. She couldn’t help but laugh again, she’ll always remember him as the man she met in the men’s room.
Chapter 3
REAGAN PACED THE FLOOR, waiting for Matt to come home. It neared her bedtime, and she started to wonder if he planned on coming home or not. Bedtime didn’t matter, she already planned on calling out sick in the morning. A crowded nurses station heard her complain of a sore throat, though she only said that to disguise her voice from Dr. Everly. They’d believe she was sick; it was rare for Reagan to skip work.
At last she heard familiar footsteps approaching the apartment door. Reagan stood with her arms crossed over her chest as he entered. “You’re home late.”
Matt dropped his gym bag and tried to embrace her. She backed up and let him know she didn’t want him to touch her. It was all she could do to stop the tears from escaping again. “Baby,” Matt started, but hearing sweet words come out of his dirty mouth made Reagan sick to her stomach. She turned away as he continued to talk. “It wasn’t what you thought?”
He said it, a confession, almost. What else could he mean if he didn't admit that he had his hands up that girl’s skirt? Reagan couldn’t control her anger anymore. Matt leaned in and tried to hold her again but stepped back when her hand slapped his face. “What do you mean it wasn’t what I thought,” she cried out, feeling defeated already. “It was you,” she blurted out. “For some stupid reason I’d hoped you’d deny it, tell me you didn’t know what I was talking about, but no. No, you tell me it's not what I thought.”
Reagan sat on one end of the couch, her legs crossed in front of her, her hand held her aching head. Matt tried to sit next to Reagan, but her angered look had him change his mind. He sat in the armchair across from her. “She came onto me,” he stated.
I’m not naïve enough to fall for that!
“So, she came on to you and you wrapped her legs around your waist?”
“Reagan,” he pleaded for her to listen. She turned her head away and wiped the tears. He didn’t deserve to see her cry. “Her legs were not around my waist,” he explained. “I was there to drop off your coffee, I thought you’d like the surprise, but you weren’t around. She saw me and called me over to her desk, then told me there was something inside the utility room that she couldn’t reach.”
“Yeah right,” Reagan mumbled loud enough for him to inch forward to touch her knee. Her hand raised the instant his touched down, threatening to slap him again, and he retreated.
“Once inside the room, she tried to kiss me. I told her no, but she kept trying.” Matt lied hi
s ass off, but Reagan let him continue with his charade. “That’s when I pushed her up against the wall and told her no meant no.”
Bizarre story, Reagan thought, but the ache in her heart didn’t find it funny. “You told her you wouldn’t kiss her by pressing your mouth against her chest?” Matt looked puzzled, she nodded. “Yeah, that’s where you were when I walked in. Your hand up her skirt and your mouth sucking on a tit.” She stood and stormed toward the kitchen for a glass of water, he followed. “You’re a bastard and I want you out of my apartment tonight.”
Matt reached out and pulled her hand until her body swung around and faced him. His face reddened and tears pooled in his eyes too. Reagan knew she wasn’t strong enough to fight with him and wasn’t sure if she wanted him to go or not. “Baby, that didn’t happen.”
And just like that, she replayed the moment in her head. Did it or didn’t it happen the way she remembered? What if he was right, and she was throwing him out like yesterday’s trash? He pulled her close to his beating chest and the sobbing she controlled surfaced. Reagan gave in to her weakness and cried in his arms.
Matt walked her into the living room and rubbed her back while they sat on the couch. Her head leaned into his chest, wanting so much to believe his words were true. “Do you love me?” she asked in despair.
“Oh my God,” he replied, his voice choked up. “Yes, I do, that’s why I wouldn’t touch that girl. Believe me.”
Reagan turned and placed her palm on his abdomen as her forehead dug into his chest. Tears wouldn’t stop falling, no matter how hard she tried to stop them or how much he told her he wasn’t cheating. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Absolutely,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I won’t do anything to lose you.”
“Why did you come home so late?”
Matt leaned back and sighed. “I knew you’d react the way you did, and it scared me a little.”
Reagan couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never baby,” he promised. Matt pulled her close and Reagan laid across his chest until her eyes became too heavy to ignore. “Let’s go to bed,” he said as they started to stand.
Something in her knew enough to pull back. He might have told the truth about the girl coming onto him, but he held her in a locked room in a compromised position. Reagan wasn’t throwing him out, but he would need to earn a spot next to her on the bed, anyway. She grabbed a throw blanket off the recliner, shoved it into his hands, and pointed to the couch. “This is your bed for a while,” she informed him.
“But, I thought,” he tried to protest.
“We’ll get through this,” she told him, “but I’m still mad. You should have come to me and told me this girl was after you.”
Matt shuffled his feet and reached for her arm. “I didn’t know until today,” he replied. “Come on, this isn’t fair,” he whined.
Reagan looked at him and shook her head. If he told her the truth, it would show in time. As of now, she couldn’t prove him wrong. An idea struck her, and she said, “I will talk to her when I see her again.”
Matt followed her into the bedroom, picking up his pillows. She allowed him to take them, knowing she’d be better off without his scent close to her. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded.
“Why not?”
“Because she’s after me. Do you think she will admit this is all her?” He had a good point, but Reagan didn’t know what to believe. This never happened to her before and she didn’t know who she could trust and who she couldn’t. “She will say just the opposite, like I wanted her, just so you leave me because that’s what she wants.”
What he said made sense, girls were cruel when they wanted to be and would stop at nothing from getting what they want. She didn’t know what to expect from a girl like that, so she dropped it.
“Go to the couch,” she pointed toward the living room. “And stay there, no matter if I’m crying or not. If I want someone to talk to, I’ll call Mercy, not you.” Matt hung his head and stepped out into the hallway. He turned to look at her once more, but her arm and finger remained stretched out toward the living room.
“I love you,” he purred.
“I don’t like you very much,” she told him then slammed the door in his face.
Reagan laid in bed and everything he said ran through her mind. As tired as she was, sleep was impossible. Hours passed before her eyes closed, but the image of Matt and the unit clerk pinned against the wall caused them to open again. It would be the longest night of her life and she didn’t deserve any of it.
Chapter 4
DEAN CONFESSED HE WAS a little disappointed to see Mercy scrub in on his first surgery at Bay City Medical. The day before, he read up on the case and checked up on the young patient. He impressed the attending doctor with his knowledge of the procedure, and the consequences if things would go wrong. Dean felt competent enough to perform the surgery, under the attending doctor's supervision.
Reagan was the only friend he made since arriving at Bay City and he couldn't wait to tell her. When he saw her friend, Mercy, scrub in, Dean stood beside her and asked, “Where’s Reagan? I thought she was the pediatric scrub nurse?”
“She is,” Mercy answered with a smile. “But, she’s sick. You can’t take a risk like that in a place like this,” she lectured him as if he didn’t understand what it was like to work in a hospital.
He knew Reagan wasn’t sick but couldn’t give his new friend’s secrets away. Her absence concerned him though, and his frown revealed what he couldn’t say. “I hope she’s okay,” he said. “She had a rough day yesterday.”
“What?” Mercy pierced him with her eyes. “I’m her best friend, don’t you think I would know if something was bothering her?”
“You don’t?” A nurse came over and slipped tight latex-free gloves over his hands. Dean held them close to his chest, being careful not to touch anything.
Mercy studied him as she finished donning the rest of her protective gear. “She had tears in her eyes but said it was because she made an ass of herself.”
Dean laughed, louder than he should have with a young patient awaiting heart surgery in the next room. “Yes, she did. But,” he continued to laugh but at a lower volume. “We worked through it and now I know who the boss is around here.”
Mercy smiled and signaled for them to enter the OR. If she was mad at his friendship with Reagan, she didn’t mention it. They went in and Dean greeted Philip, the young boy who awaited surgery. The boy reminded him of himself at that age and acted brave. “Hey Doc,” Philip smiled as he greeted him.
Dean spoke to Philip’s mother, who said he had been a nervous wreck all night. He didn’t want to scare the boy and thought of ways to ease Philip. Dean looked to the anesthesiologist who held a gas mask in his hand, then looked down at Philip. “Can you do me a favor?” The kid nodded. “Great,” Dean added, “try this on for me, will you?”
The boy nodded again, and the anesthesiologist placed the mask on the boy’s mouth. Mercy said, “He’s out cold,” and the operation begun.
Eight hours passed before the attending doctor approved Dean’s work and the surgery ended. Mercy looked like she would fall any second, and Dean wondered if she could stay still for long surgeries? You did great, Mercy.
Cheers from the other doctors and the nurses made him feel welcomed to the new hospital. The attending walked out with Dean, impressed with the skills he possessed. Mercy stayed behind with the other nurses and cleared the OR.
After cleaning up, and while waiting for the boy to come through, Dean stepped outside and let the fresh air filter through his lungs. How are you holding up, Reagan? He didn’t know the details but knew she had troubles with her boyfriend. Reagan was a good soul; he could tell that already and hoped things were getting better for her.
Soon after, Mercy walked outside and paused when she reached the table. “I called Reagan,” she said. “She’s feeling bett
er and will be back to work in the morning.”
She continued to walk toward the parking lot, her day done. Dean glanced up at the setting sun and grinned. He knew that he would like his new home in Bay City.
He went up to the pediatric floor to check on Philip. The boy slept; his mother slumped over in a chair too. His vital signs were normal, so Dean let him sleep. As he approached the door, he heard a faint, “Thank you,” from the boy’s mother.
“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, “I thought you were sleeping.” He waited by the door and watched the way she sat up and wiped her son’s hair from his forehead. Just like my mother did when my life was in jeopardy. Would he grow up to think Dean was a hero the way he thought the doctor who treated him was? Dean hoped the boy’s life would be better than his.
Without looking at her face, he knew the mother cried. Who could blame her? Her son had a rare heart condition, one that would keep him from sports and any strenuous activities most of his life. “You pulled through for us,” she said while keeping her eyes on Philip. “When they told me that a new surgeon would perform my son’s operation, I admit I had concerns. But you were wonderful, and he adores you.”
Dean stepped back into the room and touched her shoulder. “I’m new to this hospital, to this area, but I assure you, I had the best training.” She glanced up at him and smiled. He could see the appreciation in her eyes. “Have the nurse page me the moment he wakes.”
Outside of the young boy’s room, to the left, and down the long corridor hung a picture of an elder surgeon. Dean stood against the opposite wall and looked up with admiration. Doctor Neil Oswald, I owe you everything I have.
Most of the current doctors didn’t have a clue who he was. Sure, they might have read about him in medical journals, or heard about him at Bay City Medical and they knew of his work, but they didn’t know him. Not like Dean.
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