by Francis Ray
“Odette fell off the folding step stool, and she’s asking for you,” Lilly explained, continuing up the stairs.
Adam jerked back. “Me?”
Praying she was doing the right thing, Lilly came up beside him and took his free hand so that he was between her and the stair railing. “You. She’s frightened. She became worse when I mentioned calling the ambulance. Samuel is concerned about her blood pressure.”
“I–I can’t.”
“Dr. Wakefield!” Samuel’s voice called from below.
“They need your help.”
His face furious, Adam turned on her. “I can’t even help myself.”
“Then help someone else. Forget yourself and go help Odette. Calm her enough so I can call the ambulance.”
“It’s not—”
“Nothing is easy. I know. Now come on and take my arm. You lead off.”
For a moment she didn’t think he would do it; then he took her arm, drew a deep breath, and stuck a foot out.
“We’re coming!” Lilly yelled, praying Dr. Wakefield wouldn’t give up. He didn’t. Lilly prayed each step, giving out a progress report as they went.
As soon as they entered the kitchen, Odette cried, “I knew you’d come. I just knew it.”
“Odette. I–I don’t know how much help I can be.”
“I’ve been here praying, and I know you can help,” Odette told him.
Adam didn’t move.
“You are going to help her, aren’t you, Dr. Wakefield?” Samuel asked, his leathery brown face showing fear for the first time.
Adam lifted his hands. Hands that he couldn’t see.
To be needed. He was a doctor. A surgeon. Once he had been on his way to being the best in his field.
“Please,” Lilly whispered. “Please.”
“Take me to her side.”
Lilly complied, leading him to Odette and then stopping so he could kneel by the fallen woman. He was barely settled before Odette reached out and tightly grasped his hand.
Adam folded his other hand over hers. Slowly he moved his fingers to her pulse. Satisfied with what his fingertips told him, he ran his hand up her arm to her face. Cool. Not sweaty. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
“My back. My head. My sit-down. My legs.”
“Let’s start at the head and go down.” His hand went to her head and felt the cloth. “Wearing your turban?”
“I washed my hair and didn’t have time to press it out.” Despite the situation, she sounded chagrined.
“As I recall, you always looked rather stately in your turban.” His hand gently slipped the covering off and checked her head for lumps. “Do you recall hitting your head?”
“No, but it happened fast. That’s how Sister Jackson broke her hip.” She sniffled.
Adam’s examination moved to her shoulder. “I think we can rule that out. Hip fractures are very painful, and every movement would be uncomfortable. I’m not hearing the hitch in your voice.”
Odette closed her eyes. “Thank the Lord.”
“Let’s see about the rest of you. Here we go. Neck. Right arm. Left arm.” His fingertips followed the map his words described. “Lilly, let me know if she shows any signs of pain.”
Adam waited, listening to Lilly’s calm voice reporting Odette’s reactions. “Move the leg that doesn’t hurt first. Start with the toes, then ankle, knee, hip.”
Odette had no difficulty with the left leg. She got as far as her ankle on the right leg before she cried out.
“Stop,” Adam ordered. “Help me to where her leg is,” he told Lilly. She did as instructed and he immediately felt the warmth, the slight distension. Without waiting for assistance, he found the left ankle, compared. “You injured your right ankle, Odette. I can’t tell how badly, but Lilly was right in wanting to call the ambulance.”
Samuel was already getting up to call.
“Notify Dr. Brown, too, Samuel. Lilly, get two quart bags and fill them with crushed ice. Then, see if you can find a couple of ten-pound bags of sugar or flour to hold them in place. I don’t want her ankle to move more than necessary. That should be good enough until the paramedics get here and splint it.”
Samuel came back to his wife’s side. “The ambulance is on the way and I called your doctor. Thank you, Dr. Wakefield.”
Adam nodded. “Lilly, you better go wait by the road. This place is not the easiest to find.”
“I’ll go,” offered Samuel.
“Stay with Odette,” Lilly told him.
“And I’ll stay here and let Odette hold my hand,” Adam said, giving the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Now, what have those rambunctious grandchildren of yours been up to lately?”
It seemed forever instead of the ten minutes it took for the ambulance to come. Lilly waved them down. The ambulance stopped even with her. A young black woman jumped out.
“Hi. Where’s the person needing help?”
“Up at the house,” Lilly answered.
“Hop in.”
“Thank you.” Lilly scrambled inside.
“She fell off a kitchen stool?” the female attendant asked.
“Yes. Dr. Wakefield thinks she did something to her ankle.”
“A doctor has already seen her?” asked the burly male ambulance driver.
Unconsciously Lilly shifted closer to the door. The man had a surly bulldog look about him that reminded her too much of Myron. “He lives there. He told us to call the ambulance.”
“Lucky for her,” the woman said.
The ambulance came to a halt directly in front of the steps. The wail of the siren faded, but the red light continued to flash. Piling out of the vehicle, the attendants went to the back for their case.
“Lilly, what happened? Is Adam all right?” Eleanor cried, running from around the side of the house.
“He’s fine. Odette fell and he had us call the ambulance.”
“Adam?” Surprise flashed across her face.
“Which way?” asked the male attendant, his broad face unsmiling.
“This way.” Lilly led them to the kitchen, then stepped aside.
“I think I’m about to be replaced.” Adam came to his feet, reaching out his hand. “Lilly.”
“Coming, Dr. Wakefield.”
The male attendant stopped, the emergency case banging against his leg. “He’s the doctor who told you to call?”
“Yes,” Lilly answered.
“You got to be kidding. That guy is blind,” the male attendant said, his voice filled with derision. “I’m sick and tired of all these false runs. This is the fourth one today.”
“My son is a prominent neurosurgeon,” Eleanor declared. “If he said to call an ambulance there was reason.”
“Mother?” Frowning, Adam turned toward her voice. “When did you get here?”
“I—” Eleanor hesitated. “We’ll talk about it later, once Odette is taken care of.”
The male attendant turned to go. “This is a wash. I’m not taking the advice of a blind man.”
“Samuel?” Odette whimpered in pain and fear.
Samuel came to his feet. “I called the ambulance and I’m telling you you’d better take my wife in, and you had better do it to the best of your ability, as limited as it seems to be. I already called my wife’s doctor and he’s expecting her and we’re going in that ambulance.”
“It’s your money to waste,” the surly man said.
“John,” the female attendant hissed in warning.
“I’ll go get the cart,” John said and left.
“Take me to my room,” Adam ordered, his voice tight and strained.
“I’m sor—”
“Now,” Adam said, cutting Lilly off.
“Come on.” She hooked his hand through her arm and led him out of the room.
“Adam—”
“Not now, Mother.”
Her hands clamped together, Eleanor stepped aside and let them pass.
Lilly glanced around as the sound of t
he gurney rolling over the hardwood floor faded into silence when it reached the area rugs. His lip curled, the attendant stared at them. Lilly mouthed, bully and led Adam up the stairs.
Eleanor was so angry she was trembling. Too angry to stand still, she paced the length of the counter in Adam’s kitchen, the telephone gripped in her hand.
“Eleanor, what is it?”
“Jonathan, I’m so angry I could spit.”
“Then spit and tell me how I can help,” he told her.
His calm, reassuring voice almost made her smile until she thought of Adam’s face, the look of defeat, when he left the kitchen. Quickly she told Jonathan what had happened, ending with, “Please check on Odette and get me the name of that attendant. He hasn’t heard the last of this.”
“I’ll call the ER to see who is on duty and check on Odette. As soon as I can, I’ll leave here and go over there personally,” he told her. “And leave the attendant to me.”
Eleanor heard the tightness in Jonathan’s voice, and oddly, it eased some of her anger. He was the first person she had called when the hospital notified her that Adam had been hurt. He’d chartered a plane and been there in four hours as calm and reassuring as he was now.
“How did Adam take you being there?”
“Not very well,” she admitted. Jonathan always seemed to know the things she didn’t have to speak. “Perhaps I should have gone as he requested.”
“Adam loves you, Eleanor. He’s not angry at you, but at the situation.”
“I know, but it’s just so hard.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Why?”
“Would knowing the answer make any difference? Would it make this any easier on any of us?”
“No,” she answered softly. She forgot at times that she wasn’t the only one suffering. “I’ll let you get back to your patients.”
“I’ll be out after I leave the hospital.”
“You don’t have to do that. It’s a long drive.”
“I’ll see you around seven. Good-bye.”
Eleanor hung up the phone feeling better. She wasn’t alone. As long as she had Jonathan she wasn’t alone.
Going to the foot of the stairs, she stared up. If only Adam had someone who would stand by his side no matter what he said or did. To let him know that he mattered. Nicole certainly wasn’t that person. She was an intelligent, beautiful, ambitious woman. She’d tried, but she hadn’t been able to stick. Few women could have when nothing was being given in return. It took unconditional love and understanding to keep caring for someone without expecting anything in return. Eleanor had been aware of that when she walked away from a medical career and married Randolph. He’d shown his love in countless small ways: notes on her pillows, impromptu rendezvous, midnight suppers. But she’d always been aware his career came first.
Not an easy lesson, but one she had learned as any wife of a doctor must learn. Illness was seldom convenient, to the patient, to the physician’s family, to the attending physician. But if the bond was strong enough, the love and the marriage would survive.
Adam needed someone. Eleanor just wished she knew who.
“Please leave.”
Lilly heard the words, saw the humiliation and defeat in Adam’s face, felt tears prick her eyes. She knew what it was to feel the same way. “You need to eat.”
“I need to be left alone.”
For the first time, something inside her didn’t go still and quiet at his raised voice. She’d seen him with Odette and now understood what a wonderful and caring doctor he must have been. “That ambulance attendant was wrong.”
Adam’s shoulders jerked. “He was right. How could I help someone when I can’t even help myself?”
Without thinking, she caught his arm when he would have moved away from her. “You did help. You calmed Odette, reassured her enough so she didn’t get hysterical about going to the hospital in the ambulance. That’s more than her husband or I could do.”
“You said it. She was hysterical. She’s probably fine.”
“You didn’t think that when you examined her.”
His laugh was bitter. “A blind doctor. No wonder the attendant was incredulous.” He pulled his arm free. “Go, Lilly. Please.”
She watched him feel his way across the room. “You have to eat.”
Finding the chair, Adam sat down and turned his head.
She was used to him shutting her out, but this time it was different. He had been defiant in the past, but this time there was defeat in the slump of his shoulders, the bowed head.
“You have to eat,” she repeated, barely getting the words past the lump in her throat. “I’ll go fix you a tray.”
Leaving the room, she started down the stairs and saw Mrs. Wakefield. The older woman met her halfway.
She searched Lilly’s face, then slapped the flat of her hand on the banister. “I wish I could get my hands on that ignorant man.”
“Me, too,” Lilly said, anger creeping into her voice. “He had no right to talk to Dr. Wakefield that way.”
For a long time Eleanor studied the usually quiet Lilly, who was now almost as angry as she was. The few occasions that Lilly had called or come to the cottage had been brief. Eleanor had gotten the distinct impression that at times Lilly was afraid of her own shadow. It didn’t take much thought on Eleanor’s part to figure out the reason, but now she was upset on Adam’s behalf.
“Thank you, Lilly, for caring.”
Lilly flushed and clasped her hands in front of her. “He was so gentle and caring with Odette. He calmed her down and made her relax. He must have been a wonderful doctor.”
“He was. That’s why this is so senseless and painful for all of us.”
“But he can still get better, can’t he?” Lilly questioned.
“I pray so, Lilly,” Eleanor said, her gaze going up the stairs. “I don’t suppose it would be a good idea to go up and talk to him.”
Lilly saw the heartache in the older woman’s face and felt helpless. “He doesn’t want to see anyone.”
Eleanor nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Do you have any children, Lilly?”
The question caught her off guard. She had wanted Shayla and Rafe to be hers, but they never had been. “No.”
“It’s one of the most rewarding experiences you can have. You want them to be happy, to be loved. You’d give anything for that, pray for that to happen.” Once again she stared up the stairs. “A mother should be able to help her children.”
If there was one thing Lilly understood, it was the need to be needed, to know you made a difference in someone’s life. She also understood how it felt to fail. Acting on instinct, she tentatively touched Eleanor’s shoulder. “I was just going to fix Dr. Wakefield dinner. Would you like to help?”
“He used to love my stuffed pork chops.”
“Then stuffed pork chops it is.” Gently but firmly she led Eleanor to the kitchen.
The step stool was still overturned, the stainless-steel mixing bowls scattered over the tile floor. Quickly Lilly crossed the room to pick up the step stool and put it in the closet.
When Lilly turned, Eleanor had already picked up the bowls and placed them in the sink. Somehow Lilly wasn’t surprised. Eleanor Wakefield wasn’t a pampered woman or one who sat around waiting for others to do for her. “Do you think Dr. Delacroix could find out how Odette is doing?”
“I’ve already called,” Eleanor said, turning on the faucet in the sink to wash the bowls. “He’s going to check on her and come by later.”
Lilly opened the freezer door, took out a package of pork chops, and went to the microwave to defrost them. “Then we better fix extra.”
Uneasily Lilly stood outside Adam’s door. It had been two hours since Odette had been taken to the hospital. Lilly thought she’d have news of the housekeeper’s condition by now. She didn’t.
Dr. Delacroix had called to say there had been a pileup on the freeway and the emergency room was in chaos. Eleanor had returned to
the cottage after extracting a promise from Lilly that she would call her after she left Adam’s room.
Propping the tray between her body and the door, she knocked. She didn’t expect an answer, and she didn’t get one. “Dr. Wakefield, I have your supper tray.” Opening the door, she stepped inside the dark room. The light from the hallway only penetrated a few feet. The room had never before been in complete darkness since she arrived.
She shivered and flicked on the light. She saw him immediately.
He sat in the wingback leather chair. His long legs sprawled in front of him, his wrists limply hanging over the arm of the chair, his dark head thrown back as if he were staring at the ceiling.
Closing the door, she set the tray on the table. “Stuffed pork chops. Your mother helped. She said they used to be one of your favorites.”
He didn’t move.
She swallowed. “We still haven’t heard how Odette is doing. Dr. Delacroix went to the hospital, but there was a pileup on the interstate and the emergency room is a madhouse.”
Silence.
She removed the silver dome from the tray. “Meat at twelve, steamed broccoli at six. Apple pie at nine in a dessert plate.”
“Take it back.”
“Dr.—”
“Just leave me alone. Please.”
Lilly replaced the lid, but she couldn’t make herself pick up the tray. Instead she pulled up another chair near his.
He straightened. “What are you doing?”
“Staying.” Crossing the room, she flicked off the light switch, then felt her way back to the chair and sat down. “I didn’t put Samuel up to talking to you today. I admit to doing it the first time, though. He wanted to show you he had faith you’d plan the garden together.”
“A blind doctor and gardener. How interesting.”
“You can’t let what that man said bother you. I know about people like him who try to make others feel small so they can feel superior. My husband was just like him.”
“Your husband?” He shifted toward her. “You never mentioned a husband.”
Shame and embarrassment swept through her as it always did when she thought of her marriage. “I filed for divorce.”
“Why?”
“He hit me,” she whispered. “I–I made excuses every time it happened. Mother Crawford wasn’t my mother; she was my mother-in-law and the kindest, sweetest person I ever knew. After—after she died I packed up and left while he was at work. I was on my way to New Orleans when my car broke down. That’s why I went back to town the day I got my car out of the shop. Myron is going to fight the divorce. I had to send my lawyer more money.” She felt Adam’s fingertips brush her arm, then slide down until his fingers entwined with hers. There was strength in his hand, a quiet gentleness. “I bet before you lost your sight you wouldn’t have let anyone question your judgment.”