Mendoza's Miracle

by Judy Duarte

  In fact, while waiting for her order to be prepared, she might even sit in the courtyard, with its rustic old fountain, lush plants and the colorful umbrellas that shaded pine tables and chairs. There she’d listen to the soft sounds of mariachi music coming from the lounge, as well as the relaxing gurgle of the water in the fountain while sitting amidst the bougainvillea that bloomed in shades of fuchsia, purple and gold.

  As Leah entered the door, a dark-haired hostess greeted her. “One for lunch? Or are you meeting someone?”

  “Actually, I’d like to place an order to go.”

  The woman reached for a menu. “Do you already know what you’d like? Or would you like to see what we have to offer?”

  Leah took the menu. “I’ll need a moment or two to decide. But can you tell me if Marcos Mendoza is here today?”

  Javier’s brother managed the restaurant. And if anyone knew what Leah should order, it would be him.

  “Yes, Marcos is here. I think he’s in the kitchen. I’ll get him for you.”

  From what Leah had heard, Marcos used to spend a great deal of time at Red, making sure that everything ran smoothly. But he actually kept a regular schedule now that he and Wendy had a new baby. Their little girl, who had been born a month early but was doing well now, was expected to be released from the neonatal intensive care unit soon.

  Leah knew all this because she’d taken to stopping by the NICU to see Mary Anne Mendoza and the other preemies…and wondering what it would be like to have a baby of her own.

  Sure, the neonatal unit housed the most seriously ill newborns, but while some didn’t make it, many of them did. And as a nurse she was proud of the success rate.

  In fact, each year, the NICU staff put on a reunion party for the children who’d once been patients and who’d gone home healthy. The oldest were about ten years old now, and some of the parents had created play groups that were still going strong.

  While waiting for Javier’s brother, Leah opened the menu and studied her options. Marcos might know what Javier would like to eat, but she planned to choose something for herself.

  Who knew what might happen when she surprised him with his favorite Mexican meal. He might even ask her to join him for lunch. And if he did? She’d agree. Otherwise, she’d take her food home and eat it there.

  “Can I help you?” Marcos asked upon his approach.

  When she looked up from the menu and smiled, recognition dawned on his face. “What a surprise, Leah. I didn’t realize who you were in street clothes.”

  “That’s not surprising. I practically live in scrubs.”

  “How are things going?” Marcos asked. “I didn’t get a chance to stop by and see my brother last night. Wendy and I wanted to talk to the neonatologist when he made his morning rounds, so I had to work late to make up for being gone.”

  Wendy, who’d once worked at Red, too, had been expecting a baby this month, but she’d gone into premature labor back in January. The doctors had managed to stave off her contractions, then they’d put her on bed rest. She’d eventually given birth at home in early February, which had to be a real worry for them. But the baby girl was small but healthy and now thriving.

  At least, that’s the last Leah had heard. “Mary Anne’s still doing okay, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, everything is great. She’s been gaining weight, and the doctor is pleased with her progress.” A broad smile told Leah that the new father couldn’t be happier.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” she said.

  “It was a little scary for a while,” Marcos admitted, “but we’re all doing great. In fact, now that Mary Anne is out of the woods, Wendy and I are settling into parenthood. We’ve even been thinking about having a party soon to celebrate our daughter’s birth.”

  With the size of the Fortune and Mendoza families, that would probably be some party. And Leah couldn’t help but smile.

  The two families had been through a lot lately, first with the tornado and Javier’s injury, then with Wendy’s baby. So now that everyone was on the road to health and wellness, they had a lot to celebrate.

  “The hostess said you wanted to talk to me,” Marcos said. “Is everything all right?”

  He was worried about Javier, Leah realized, so she shot him a smile to put his mind at ease. “Your brother is coming along just fine, but I have a feeling that he’s getting tired of the hospital food. So I thought I’d surprise him with something different for a change. Do you have any suggestions? What does he usually order when he comes here?”

  Marcos chuckled. “I don’t suppose they’d let you sneak him an ice-cold beer and lime.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Leah said, enjoying the brotherly humor.

  “Well, he’ll be happy with the carne asada, which is what he usually orders.”

  “Then I’ll take a plate to go.”

  “How about you?” Marcos asked. “Aren’t you going to have lunch with him?”

  The thought had certainly crossed Leah’s mind, but she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea any longer.

  Marcos must have read her indecision, because he added, “My brother seems to really like you, and I’m sure he’ll be more likely to enjoy his meal if you share it with him.”

  He had a point, she supposed. “All right. I’ll take the small chicken taco salad.”

  She reached into her purse.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Marcos said, placing a hand on her arm. “Put your money away. After all you’ve done for Javier, this order is on the house.”

  She wanted to object, to tell him she’d just been doing her job, that she’d fully intended to pay for lunch, that she hadn’t chosen the family’s restaurant hoping to get a freebie. But both appreciation and sincerity lit up his smile, so she released her wallet and thanked him instead.

  “Is there anything else you need? Dessert maybe? Javier likes the flan. I can also pack up napkins, silverware—whatever else you might need.”

  She was going to say that the takeout order was enough, then another idea struck. A good one.

  “You know,” she said, “I just might need a little more help from you after all.”

  When she told Marcos what she had in mind, he grinned and nodded his head in agreement. Then he turned to the hostess. “Give her whatever she wants.”

  Five minutes later, as Leah waited for her order, she went into the courtyard to cut a few sprigs of the fuchsia-colored bougainvillea with the scissors the hostess had given her.

  As she took the last cutting, she wondered how Javier would react to her surprise.

  The man was a little moody at times and hard to read, so it was anyone’s guess. But the idea had certainly put a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. She just hoped it did the same for him.

  Javier had just talked to Jeremy Fortune, who’d told him he’d be sending him to the rehab unit tomorrow or the next day, depending upon when they had a bed available.

  “You won’t have to stay very long,” Jeremy added. “After you’re discharged, you can do the rest of your rehab as an outpatient.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had in months.” Javier blew out a weary sigh, glad to see some light at the end of the tunnel, even if he still had a long road to full recovery and a life he’d have to recreate in many ways. “You have no idea how badly I want to get out of here.”

  “I can imagine.” Jeremy placed a hand on Javier’s shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot these past two months. In fact, if you ever feel the need to talk to a professional, I can refer you to someone.”

  Javier stiffened and clucked his tongue. “Did my family put you up to that?”

  “No, they didn’t. Do they think you need counseling?”

  “It was suggested,” Javier admitted, before mak
ing his own opinion clear. “But I don’t need it.”

  “I’m not saying that you do. Just know that it’s available should you change your mind. And that if you do decide to talk to someone, it wouldn’t be a sign of weakness.”

  Maybe not, but Javier already felt like a ninety-pound weakling going up against a UFC fighter in a championship bout, and that’s what frustrated the hell out of him.

  Still, Jeremy had a point—and Javier knew that his family had reason to be concerned, too.

  “Well, I’ve still got several patients yet to see,” Jeremy said, “so I’d better finish my rounds.”

  “I…uh…” Javier heaved another sigh. “I’m sorry, Doc.”

  “What for?” Jeremy asked.

  “For snapping at you.” Javier ran his hand through his hair, which was shorter than he was used to, thanks to the neurosurgery he’d had two months back. “I’ve been pretty quick-tempered lately, and you don’t deserve to be the target of my frustration.”

  Of course, neither did his family. Maybe he really should talk to a counselor, someone he could unload on instead of the people who loved him the most.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jeremy said. “You’ve got every reason to be irritable. You nearly died, spent a month of your life in a coma, woke up in pain and confusion. And now that you’re facing some intensive physical therapy… It’s enough to make anyone touchy.”

  Yeah, well maybe Javier had better figure out a way to shake that dark cloud that hovered over him. His future might be messed up, but he didn’t need to make everyone else’s life miserable, too.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jeremy said as he turned to go. Then he stopped in his tracks, allowing someone to enter the room.

  But not just any someone. It was Leah.

  What was she doing here? She was supposed to be off today.

  She was definitely not on the clock since she was wearing regular clothes—a black sweater and jeans. Her glossy auburn hair had been pulled back in a soft, loose ponytail.

  She’d draped a striped, brightly colored serape over her shoulder. What was she doing with a Mexican blanket that looked a lot like one his sister Isabella might have woven?

  Leah greeted Jeremy first. “Hello, Dr. Fortune.”

  “Do you need any help?” he asked. “It looks like you’ve got a full load.”

  That was for sure. In one hand, she held a heat-insulated bag with the familiar Red logo, and in the other, she held a couple of sprigs of bougainvillea.

  “Thanks for the offer, Doctor. But I’ve got everything balanced just right.”

  As she placed the insulated bag on the chair near Javier’s bed, Jeremy stepped out of the hospital room and into the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

  “What’s all this?” Javier asked.

  “I decided to surprise you with a picnic.”

  In the hospital? Was she kidding?

  “I would have taken you out into the rose garden in a wheelchair,” she added, “but I figured this was better for now.”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Carne asada, rice, beans, chips, salsa, guacamole… And a taco salad for me.”

  Javier didn’t know what to say. Nor could he get over the sight of her in a form-fitting sweater and a pair of tight jeans, rather than those blousy hospital scrubs he was used to seeing her wear. More than once he’d tried to imagine what she hid behind the loose-fitting fabric, but now…?

  Dang. There wasn’t much need to guess. Denim didn’t lie. At least, hers certainly didn’t.

  She draped the serape over the portable bed table. Next, she pulled out a small vase and filled it with a couple of sprigs of the bougainvillea that he suspected she’d found growing in one of the clay pots in the courtyard of his family’s restaurant. Then she placed it on top of the serape-covered table.

  For a moment, he almost forgot that he was in a hospital—and that he’d been there for ages.

  He nodded toward the Cinco-de-Mayo-style decorations. “That’s a nice touch.”

  “I thought so.” Her smile nearly turned him inside out. He’d always considered her attractive when she’d tended him as his nurse, but now?

  His head was almost spinning as he tried to take it all in, tried to take her all in. He’d never seen hair that color—a rusty shade of auburn—and wondered if she ever wore it loose and wild.

  He’d only seen it pulled back and out of her face, but he could imagine it splayed across a white pillow…

  Cut it out, he told himself. Thoughts like that weren’t going to do him any good in a place like this.

  He was tempted to call her Florence, to try and put some lighthearted humor into the situation, but all he could think of was one of the oldies but goodies his dad used to play on the radio in the car. “Just look at her in those blue jeans, her hair in a pony tail.”

  She could be Venus, as far as he was concerned.

  He hadn’t even been alive when that song had first come out, but he was tempted to hum the tune or even belt out the lyrics—something he’d been known to do when the mood struck him.

  And it was the first time the mood had struck him since last Christmas Eve, when he’d sung “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” just to make the kids laugh.

  “I hope you don’t mind me bringing lunch,” Leah said.

  “Not at all.” Heck, right now, he didn’t care if she poked him with a hypodermic needle. “It was a really nice thing for you to do. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  How many nurses went above and beyond the call of duty like that?

  He reached for the button that lifted the head of his bed higher, then adjusted the pillows so that he was sitting up.

  As Leah removed the food from the red bag, he caught a whiff of beef and spices, of cilantro and chili, and his stomach actually growled.

  “This is going to be some picnic,” he said as his eyes scanned the food she set out on the serape-covered table.

  “Eating outdoors would have been nice,” she said. “But look at it this way, at least we don’t need to worry about avoiding ants or using sunblock.”

  “You’ve got a point there.”

  Moments later, with the table set, she pulled up a chair to sit beside his bed and they began to eat.

  Javier stuck his fork into a piece of marinated beef and popped it into his mouth.

  Dang. When was the last time he’d tasted meat so tender, so tasty?

  After relishing another bite, he said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. How’d you come up with an idea like this?”

  “It just struck me on the way home last night. You’ve been eating at the hospital for weeks on end, and while I think the food is pretty good, I can see where you might get tired of it.”

  He’d gotten tired of just about everything in the hospital. Everything except his nurse.

  “I asked Marcos which meal was your favorite,” she said, “and he suggested the carne asada. Would you have preferred the chile rellenos? Or maybe the tamales? He said you liked them, too.”

  “No, this is perfect. If I’m still in this room tomorrow, maybe I can have someone at Red deliver us another meal. I owe you one now.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  That’s not the way he saw it. If not for Leah, he might have gone stir-crazy weeks ago.

  They finished their meals in silence, but that didn’t mean Javier’s mind wasn’t going a jillion miles an hour—plotting and planning—much like it used to do before the injury.

  Finally he said, “I’m going to be transferred to the rehab unit within the next couple of days.”

  She paused, her fork in midmotion. Her pretty eyes, a whiskey shade of hazel, widened. Then sh
e smiled. “That’s good news. You’re getting closer to being able to go home. I bet you can’t wait.”

  He wanted to leave the hospital; that was a given. But he wasn’t keen on the idea of never seeing Leah again.

  Why had she done all of this for him? And on her day off?

  He could read all kinds of things into her effort to surprise him, he supposed. But he wouldn’t. Instead, he planned to enjoy the meal and the nurse who’d brought a bit of sunshine on a mundane day, the beautiful Florence Nightingale who’d provided him with a taste of the real world he was about to reenter.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, while Dr. Fortune was making his rounds, Javier learned that he would be transferred to the rehab unit within the next hour or so.

  After two long months, he would finally put that devastating, life-altering tragedy behind him. But leaving the third floor also meant leaving Leah.

  He supposed he could always look her up after he was discharged from the hospital completely, but not until he was back on his feet and had a better grip on just who the post-tornado Javier really was—and where his future lay.

  Still, he hoped to see her before he left, to say goodbye, to talk one last time. But he might not get the chance since Karen, one of the other third-floor nurses, had already come in and told him she’d been assigned to his room for the day.

  Karen was nice enough, but she wasn’t…

  Well, she wasn’t Leah.

  Javier had just turned on the television to watch the midday news when his dad, Rafe and Isabella entered his room.

  Determined to be a little more upbeat and better tempered than he’d been in the past, he greeted them, then reached for the remote and shut off the power to the TV.

  “How’s it going?” his dad asked.

  Javier gave them the good news that he was moving to rehab, which meant he was one step closer to being discharged and sent home.

  “That’s great,” Isabella said.

  Rafe and his father broke into smiles, too, clearly in agreement. Then his dad pointed toward the serape that was now draped over the back of the chair by his bed. “What’s that doing here?”