Minor Opposition

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Minor Opposition Page 10

by Walters, Janet Lane;


  “Good work.”

  “Will you miss me?”

  She hugged him. “You know I will. Maybe I’ll get a cat to keep me company.”

  “Why not me and Daddy?”

  “That’s impossible. You have a house.”

  “Even if I wish and wish?”

  “Even then.” She walked to the door and watched the men carry beds upstairs. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Once the rest of the furniture stood in the proper places, Laurel walked upstairs to make the beds. Just as she reached the landing, the doorbell rang. Had the movers forgotten something? She hurried to the door, opened it and gasped.

  “Hello, Laurel.”

  “Neil, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to take you back. The team needs you.”

  She shook her head. “I resigned. How did you find me?”

  “Your landlady gave me the address where you shipped your things. I met one of your friends in the apartment lobby. She told me you were here. Can I come in so we can talk?”

  She stepped back. “You’ve wasted your time. I’m settled here.”

  “Are you still chasing an impossible dream?” He strode into the living room.

  Laurel sat on the arm of the deep teal couch. “Try to understand. I’m where I want to be.”

  “Dear girl, you never answered my proposal. Think of all the good we’ve done. Thousands of people are alive because we helped them. How can you abandon them?”

  Laurel sucked in a breath. “I can’t marry you. I don’t love you and you don’t love me.”

  He reached for her hand. “One doesn’t need love to have a comfortable marriage. We have mutual respect and friendship. That will be enough.”

  “Not for me. I’m sorry.”

  “Then return and take an assignment with a different team.”

  “I can’t live like a gypsy.”

  He shook his head. “How can you be so selfish? Your money could help so many people.”

  Laurel’s fists clenched. “When I needed a friend and mentor, you were there. You never thought beyond friendship until I told you about the trust fund.” Several tears slid down her face. “I’m much more than a trust fund.”

  He walked to the door. “I am interested in your money, but not for myself. For the people we can help.”

  Laurel rose and faced him. “I hate that money. If I could sign the trust over to you, I would. Being an heiress has kept me from finding a family, a home, love. No one has ever wanted me for myself. Do you understand?” His face blurred. Her tears fell faster.

  He reached out to touch her but she backed away. “I’m sorry that I’m no different from all those who have hurt you.” He walked to the door.

  Laurel ran upstairs. He understood and so did she. Neil had loved her money most. Alex loved what she gave to his son. She entered the master bedroom and pressed her hands against the wall.

  *****

  Alex stood in the hall beside the stairs transfixed by what he’d just heard. He released his breath. Laurel’s impassioned speech had raised a storm of guilt. He’d never considered the toll her wealth had exacted from her. Things she had mentioned, and Megan’s stories sent lightning shocks through his thoughts. He recalled his mother’s concern for the teenage girl who had spent her life in boarding schools and summer camps. He gulped a deep breath and walked upstairs. The sound of running water drew him to the bathroom. Through the open door, he watched Laurel splash her face with water.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She looked up. Her amber eyes reflected sadness he knew he had helped create. “I will be.”

  “I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You’re not responsible for Neil and you’ve always been honest with me.”

  Had he, Alex wondered. Had he been honest with her and with himself. “A bit dense. I can’t imagine how you felt when you learned money was the prime attraction.” He put his hands on her shoulders.

  Her body trembled. “I’ve always known that. My guardians lectured me frequently. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t let anyone get close. They won’t want you. They’ll want your money.”

  “What a dreadful thing to do to a child.” He drew her into a light embrace and stroked her back the way he did Johnny’s when his son was sad.

  She shuddered and then looked up. A hesitant smile appeared. “Thank you.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh lord, he came all the way from London and I didn’t invite him to lunch.”

  He tilted her chin with his thumbs. “I don’t think he would have stayed. Just for the record, I think he blew the chance to know a remarkable woman.” So had he. He released her and started downstairs. “Speaking of lunch, why don’t I run out and bring a pizza back?”

  “Sounds good.” She followed him downstairs.

  Johnny popped out of the study. He threw his arms around Laurel and hugged her. “I’m all done.”

  “Let me see.” She took Johnny’s hand. “Your father’s going for pizza. Want to go or stay?”

  “Stay. Want to see my bed when I visit you.”

  Alex watched them walk up the stairs. A thought rocked him. When had desire become love? He groaned. He had blown his chance to win her and he had no idea how to change her opinion of him.

  *****

  By mid-afternoon, the house was in order. Laurel invited Alex and Johnny to stay for dinner, but Alex had been vague about his plans for the evening. Laurel stood on the porch and watched them drive away. Then she turned and went inside.

  Alone, she thought. Though she had friends in Eastlake and would make more, she felt as alone as she had for all the days of her life. She wandered to the kitchen and dialed Jenessa’s number. Her friend answered on the first ring. “Would you and Eric like to come for dinner?” Laurel asked.

  “Wish we could, but we have plans.”

  “Another time.”

  “Soon.”

  Laurel walked to the study and spent several hours on the job description and writing up the essentials of triage for use when she trained the other nurses. The town hall clock chimed five times. She stretched and went to the kitchen to plan her solitary dinner.

  She opened a package of chicken breasts and assembled the ingredients for chicken and cashews, the only dish she knew how to prepare. One year when she was between camp and school, her guardians had hired a Chinese woman to stay with her. For the three nights of the woman’s stay, the cook had made the same thing, and enough to feed Laurel and a half dozen family members.

  When the oil in the wok sizzled, Laurel tossed in the chicken. She had just added the vegetables when the doorbell rang. After sliding the wok from the fire, she hurried down the hall.

  “Surprise,” Jake and Sarah yelled.

  “Come in.” Though tears rose in her eyes, she laughed.

  Sarah followed her into the kitchen. “Johnny told,” she said.

  Laurel stirred the food and added cashews. “He did?”

  “About the housewarming?”

  “Never mentioned a word.”

  “Then why are you cooking so much food?”

  Laurel laughed. “This is my one recipe and I only know how to cook for a crowd.”

  Sarah chuckled. “Guess we’ll eat good.” She turned to Jake. “Put the potato salad and the baked beans in the dining room and bring the cake in here.”

  Laurel flicked a tear with her finger. “Welcome.”

  Sarah hugged her. “Child, did you think we’d let you spend your first evening alone?” She shook her head. “You’ve got people who care. Drat that man for being blind.”

  Johnny ran into the kitchen. “Flowers. From me and Daddy.”

  Laurel took the bouquet of red roses. “Let me find a vase.”

  “Where should I put the chicken and chili dogs?” Alex asked.

  “In the dining room. The hot plates are in the long drawer of the buffet.” Laurel put the deep red roses in a vase and inhaled the sweet smell.
“Did you choose the flowers?” she asked Johnny.

  “Daddy did.”

  Laurel smiled and for a moment, allowed her imagination to soar. Red roses for love. She shook her head and reached for a bright pottery bowl for the chicken and cashews. Alex returned to the kitchen.

  “Thank you for the flowers.”

  “I’m glad you like them.” He raised her hand to his lips.

  The doorbell rang. Though Laurel heard it, she couldn’t move. What did this mean?

  Sarah took the bowl from Laurel. “See to your guests.”

  Alex headed to the dining room. Laurel released her breath and ran to the door. “Jen, Eric, so you had plans for this evening.”

  Jenessa grinned. “Yeah, a housewarming and food.”

  Eric waved two bottles of champagne. “You really put it together. Your organizing skills are going to turn the ED around.”

  “Hope so.” Jenessa handed her a salad bowl. “Where do you want this?”

  Laurel pointed to the dining room. “You know where.”

  They strode past her. Laurel saw a dark-haired woman stride up the walk. She waved. “Liz Jordan, what are you doing here?”

  “I interviewed for the clinical nurse position on ortho/neuro this morning. Jen told me about the housewarming and since my father-in-law is staying with the twins, if I can beg a bed, I’ll stay over.”

  “No problem. I have two guest rooms.”

  Before Laurel moved from the door, she spotted Dr. Carter. He held flowers and a bag. “Ice cream and toppings.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Thanks. Do you remember Liz Jordan? She was part of the Grantley gang and interviewed this morning for the position on the ortho/neuro floor.”

  Dr. Carter offered Liz his arm. “Good to see you again.”

  As they walked away, Laurel smiled. Two out of three should be good enough for Megan. She put the ice cream in the freezer and found another vase for the carnations. Once again, tears threatened. She turned from the counter and saw Alex.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “More than all right. Again, thanks for the flowers and the housewarming.”

  “My pleasure.”

  His gaze held a warmth Laurel had dreamed of finding, yet she couldn’t believe it was for her. Her heart skipped several beats. Stop inventing what you want to see.

  He took her hand. “Time to join your guests and keep Jen and Eric from making the hospital the main topic of conversation. He seems to think you’re going to perform miracles.”

  “Maybe I will, but I have a lot of people I’ll have to convince I’m more than fluff.”

  “Don’t worry about Mary Karnes or the doctors. It won’t be long before they’re in your corner.” He tapped her chin with his knuckles.

  She laughed. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel alone.

  Chapter 8

  Laurel sat in the staff parking lot and willed her heart to stop pounding. Though the sun shone bright in a nearly cloudless sky, she felt cold and scared. The only time she had felt this kind of anxiety had been during her second IHRM assignment when rebels had surrounded the medical station. She gulped a deep breath and left the car.

  This is Eastlake Community Hospital, not a station in a war-torn country. But she wondered if she would face the same belligerent hostility from the doctors and the nurses here. She strode across the parking lot. I should be used to being the new kid. That position was the story of her life.

  The sliding doors whished open. The security guard looked up and then nodded. Laurel smiled. The familiar aroma of disinfectants and medicines made her feel at home. Six thirty. Though her shift began at seven, she needed the extra time to find her locker, a cup of coffee and to orient herself to the department. She opened the lounge door and stepped inside.

  Mary Karnes sat at the round table in the center of the square room. She cradled a mug. “Ms. Richmond, you’re early.”

  “Good morning.” Laurel swallowed. The hostile glare in the woman’s dark eyes made her shiver. “I wanted to find my way around.”

  “Why? You’ll be stationed in the waiting room.”

  “If there are no patients to be triaged, I don’t plan to sit around. I’m used to a hectic pace.”

  “Don’t step on my toes. I’ve been nurse manager for three years and I don’t intend to lose my job to anyone. Having Mr. Bradshaw’s approval doesn’t make you a good nurse.”

  Laurel walked to the credenza. “I have no intention of going for your job or your throat. I was hired for triage and my experience in dealing with major disasters.”

  Mary Karnes’ lip curled. “Everyone knows you were hired because you’re a Grantley grad and part of Megan Carter’s clique. I hear another one is coming to cut out a deserving nurse who has worked here for years. We function very well without a triage nurse.”

  Laurel poured a cup of coffee. She held back an urge to mention the mishandled cases she’d heard about on Saturday. “Instead of feeling threatened, why don’t you wait to see how effective I am at the job?”

  “If you ask me, but no one does, the job should have been given to one of my experienced ER nurses. Who knows what you’ve been doing since you graduated from Grantley.”

  Laurel snapped. “Nothing much. My assignments included epidemics and disasters, both natural and otherwise.” She strode to the door. Coffee splashed from the cup and stung her hand.

  “You’re wasting your skills here. Why settle for a small town hospital when you had the world?” Mary laughed. “Indeed, why work at all when you can whip off a check and buy a car and a house?”

  Laurel swallowed. Once more, her money had cast her in a negative light.

  The door opened. Three nurses entered. One, a petite black woman smiled and held out her hand. “You must be Laurel Richmond. I’m Simone Gray and your first trainee. Welcome. When do I start?”

  Laurel shifted the coffee cup and shook hands. “Give me a week or two to set the system up and discover the usual flow of patients.” She turned to the other two women. One walked away.

  The other hesitated and then spoke her name in a low voice. “Bette Norris.”

  Laurel left the lounge and walked to the ED waiting room. A man dozed in one of the gray plastic chairs. Laurel stopped to read the sign above the glass-walled admissions desk. 1. You will be seen in the order in which you arrive. 2. Report to the admissions clerk. 3. After you provide her with the necessary information, you will be given a number. 4. Wait until your number is called. 5. There are no exceptions.

  She shook her head. Talk about public relations. Once the triage system went into effect on all three shifts, that sign had to go. She surveyed the room but couldn’t find the table and equipment she’d requested. All right, Mary Karnes, she thought. She headed toward the doors to the examining and treatment rooms.

  “Miss Richmond.” The blonde seated behind the glass enclosure motioned to Laurel. “Hi, I’m Trudy Greene, admissions clerk. Boy, am I ever glad to see you.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad someone is.”

  The blonde leaned forward. “It’s like this. Mary is upset because they hired you. She thinks they’re punishing her for the two patients who nearly died because I’m not qualified to evaluate conditions. I was on the carpet for them, but I’m not a nurse, so how was I supposed to know?”

  “You’re not,” Laurel said. “Do you have any idea when my table and equipment are going to arrive?”

  “They set the station up on Friday but Mary had it dismantled so as not to confuse the patients over the weekend. I’ll call maintenance for you. Mary should have done that when you came in.”

  Laurel wasn’t prepared for another confrontation with the nurse manager. “Do that. I’ll run to my car for my own equipment.”

  When she returned, a table and two chairs had been placed in the alcove just beyond the door. A hand-lettered sign taped to the wall informed all patients to report to the triage nurse.

  The door opened. Laur
el looked up and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Alex strode in. “Hi.” He handed her a vase filled with carnations. “For your first day.”

  She touched one of the flowers. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “Rough start.”

  “Sort of.”

  She wished she understood the meaning of the look in his eyes. The same expression had been there every time she caught his eye Saturday night. Her body burned with awareness.

  He brushed her hand, sending waves of desire deeper. “See you soon. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  For several minutes after Alex left, Laurel studied the flowers. What was happening? Though she knew the answer she wanted, she refused to allow herself to fall into a fantasy. She headed into the examining area. A young woman with red hair and the nurse who had ignored Laurel in the lounge sat at the counter. Laurel caught the clerk’s eye. “I’m Laurel Richmond. I’ll need some charts.”

  “Here.” The clerk cracked her gum. “Trish. Let me know when you need more.”

  As Laurel put the charts on her table, the outer door opened. A young woman carrying a baby rushed in. “My baby isn’t breathing right.” The child screamed and coughed.

  Laurel took the infant from the mother. “Go check in with the clerk while I examine the baby. What’s her name?”

  “Nancy.”

  Laurel pulled up the baby’s shirt. She listened to the infant’s chest and evaluated the child’s respiratory status. Then she took the child’s temperature and checked her throat and ears. When the mother returned, Laurel asked several questions and noted the answers on the chart. “Do you have a pediatrician?”

  The mother shook her head. “We go to the clinic and there’s a different doctor every time. It’s only open on Thursday.”

  Laurel rose and carried the baby inside. Simone Gray emerged from a curtained cubicle. “Back again. Hi, Nancy.” She took the child and the chart.

  Laurel returned to the waiting room. Eric’s idea for an outpatient clinic staffed by nurse practitioners might be an invaluable service to the community.

 

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