A Mother's Special Care

by Jessica Matthews

  “Did you experience any problems at the time?”

  “None that I remember.”

  “How often do you drink alcohol?”

  Reed chuckled. “Only on special occasions, although at my age every day is a special occasion.”

  Mac smiled. “How often?”

  “I had a shot of whiskey last Christmas.” He leaned closer. “If you promise not to tell my daughter, a friend and I always treat ourselves to a glass of wine every Saturday night. We think it’s the reason we’re both still able to kick up our heels, if you know what I mean.”

  Mac grinned. “I won’t spill your secret. It’s just the one glass?”

  “Just one, sonny. Any more than that and we can’t play pool. It requires a steady hand, you know.”

  “I know.” Mac continued with his list of questions before he addressed the surgery itself. “For your procedure, we normally don’t put you to sleep. A spinal block is usually adequate.”

  Reed shook his head. “I don’t mean to tell you your business, but I want to be knocked out before Dr Hanover starts, and I don’t want to wake up until after he finishes.”

  “I can do that, but—”

  “No buts. That’s the way I want it.”

  “All right. Do you have any concerns? As you know, there are risks associated with any surgical procedure or drug we might give you.”

  “Aw, sonny, there’s risks to crossing the street. If something happens, it happens. Life doesn’t come with any guarantees. I’d rather go quick-like than suffer what those poor folks with Alzheimer’s go through.”

  “Your chances of dying are very low.”

  “That’s good. I’ve got a tournament to play just as soon as I heal up.”

  Mac suspected that Mr Collicott wasn’t one to sit back and watch his golden years go by. Perhaps that was the secret to his good health and positive outlook.

  His next patient, a four-year-old who was scheduled for a tonsillectomy, took more time. The mother grilled him over every little thing and required a lot of reassurance. Finally, he’d finished, but before he could take care of his next task, his pager beeped. The number on the display lifted his spirits.

  “You rang?” he asked Lori as soon as he strode into the recovery room.

  She looked worried as she pulled him aside to show him the chart on forty-two-year-old Erica Manning who’d just undergone a left radical mastectomy. “Her oxygen saturation has been dropping in spite of receiving oxygen. She complains of shortness of breath.”

  “Did you call for a blood gas?” Their treatment protocol included a standing order for an ABG once the oxygen saturation levels fell to a certain point.

  “The report just came over the printer. Her paO2 is lower than it should be, but it hasn’t reached the critical stage yet.”

  “Pneumothorax.” While not every patient who underwent a mastectomy developed this complication, these people were more vulnerable than the patients who had lower abdominal surgeries.

  She nodded, as if she’d suspected the diagnosis. “Do you want to insert a chest tube?”

  “She’s not in any real trouble at the moment. Let’s get a quick chest X-ray and see what’s going on. We might get by with just aspirating some of the air out of the pleural space.”

  “I’ll get Radiology on the double.”

  “Where’s the surgeon?”

  “Dr Moss is in suite two. He’s started a partial thyroidectomy and can’t leave.”

  “OK. While you’re arranging for the X-ray, I’ll touch bases with him.”

  Thanks to the portable X-ray unit, Mac had the films in hand a short time later. Meanwhile, Lori never left her patient’s side in case the woman’s condition deteriorated rapidly.

  “It looks as if only about fifteen per cent of her lung has collapsed,” Mac told Lori. “Let’s use a fourteen-gauge needle and syringe to aspirate the air. If that doesn’t work and she gets worse, we’ll insert a chest tube.”

  He explained the procedure to a semi-alert Mrs Manning while Lori set up a sterile field and laid out the supplies. Within seconds of Mac performing his procedure, Mrs Manning’s labored breathing visibly eased.

  “Let me know if she develops any more problems,” he told Lori as he stripped off his gloves.

  “I will.”

  “I see you’re on tonight’s call schedule.”

  “Yeah. I’m hoping it’s quiet.”

  “Where will Ronnie go if you have to work?”

  “Susannah is coming for a sleep-over.”

  “Are boys invited?”

  She grinned. “It depends on how old the boy is.”

  “Is eight too old?”

  “Are you on call, too?”

  “I’m strictly back-up. So unless there’s a massive highway wreck, I should have a quiet evening at home.”

  “If not, bring Corey by. I’ll let Susannah know she might have another guest, just in case.”

  Mac arrived in suite two, gowned and ready for business, moments after a groggy Reed Collicott. Having received his pre-op medication, Reed was definitely relaxed.

  “You won’t forget what we talked about,” he said as Mac sat on a stool behind his head.

  “I won’t forget,” Mac assured him with a smile, although Reed couldn’t see it behind his mask.

  The urologist, Martin Hanover, arrived almost before Mac had finished speaking. At Martin’s nod, Mac injected the dose of propofol into Reed’s IV line. “In a few seconds, you’ll be asleep,” he told the man.

  “Are you sure, sonny? I don’t feel…” Reed’s voice faded.

  “Goodnight, sleep tight,” Mac said. “OK, Martin. He’s all yours.”

  “You’re positive he’s out?” Martin asked, clearly referring to the earlier incident involving Brad.

  “Dead to the world,” Mac replied.

  Reed’s surgery and the rest of the day passed uneventfully, although Mac’s talk with Brad at the end of their shift didn’t go well. Brad was defensive, which was only to be expected.

  “I don’t care about excuses,” Mac told him. “These things can’t happen. I don’t want to be liable for errors that a person with your experience shouldn’t be making. Neither does the hospital.”

  “Things are bound to happen. My caseload is heavy.”

  Mac felt a twinge of guilt for having a lighter month’s schedule than usual. “I’m merely informing you that as of now you’re back on probation. Another error and you’ll be terminated.”

  Brad’s face turned ruddy with anger. “You can’t fire me.”

  “Yes, I can. Based on the volume of incidence reports we’ve collected, I wouldn’t have any trouble showing the danger you pose to our patients. I’d be within my authority to release you from your contract. I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but this is your final warning.”

  “Fine.” Brad’s entire body was stiff and Mac was glad he’d met with him at the end of the day rather than the beginning. It would be better for both staff and patients if Brad went home and cooled off. “Is that all?”

  Wasn’t it enough? “Yes,” Mac answered. Alone, he exhaled deeply. The situation with Brad emphasized his need to get his household affairs in order so that he could deal with his responsibilities at work. The agency had exhausted its list of candidates, which meant that he had to choose among the ones he’d already interviewed if he didn’t want to wait indefinitely. After the most recent reports concerning Brad, he simply couldn’t cater to Corey’s whims any longer. Not because he wouldn’t like to, but because time had run out.

  If only…

  He headed for the parking lot and ran into Rob at the door.

  “Rough day?” Rob commiserated.

  “To put it mildly.”

  “How about dropping by the house for a beer? Gail’s gone to a sorority meeting and Susannah’s over at Lori’s.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s right. Lori’s been watching Corey after school. How’s it working out?”

/>   “Corey’s thrilled, but not having Martha has caused problems with my call schedule. I can’t leave Corey at home when I go to work during the night. Finding a babysitter at two in the morning isn’t an option and neither is dragging him to someone else’s house.”

  “Have you had any luck finding a replacement?”

  “We’ve narrowed it down to two applicants, but Corey isn’t wild about either of them. I told him that he could choose, but I hadn’t counted on it being so difficult to find the right person. With my staff situation as it is, I’m going to have to hire someone with or without Corey’s approval.”

  “Too bad. He won’t be happy.”

  “It can’t be helped. The logical thing to do is marry Lori, but when I explained how it would be in everyone’s best interests…”

  Rob stopped in his tracks. “Back up a second. Did I hear you right?”

  “It makes sense for both of us to combine forces,” Mac said defensively. “Corey loves her, Ronnie wants a dad and—”

  “Oho, buddy,” Rob said. “You proposed by telling her how sensible it was?”

  “What else could I do? I couldn’t pledge undying love.” Mac saw the shocked amusement on his friend’s face. “I can’t lie to her.”

  “Well, no, but…” he shook his head. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I’ll admit it was an impulsive act. If I’d thought things through, I might have couched it differently.”

  But what would he have said? Three little words—”I love you”—and only those three words would have gotten Lori to agree, but he refused to be like Glenn and tell her what she wanted to hear. He had more integrity than to stretch the truth, especially when it had a nasty habit of later slapping one in the face.

  “Then she said no?”

  “Didn’t I say that?”

  “Honestly, Mac, I don’t claim to understand women but, after living with two of them, I’ve learned a few things. One of them is that they don’t want logic. They want romance and they want to be swept off their feet.”

  “So I gathered,” Mac said wryly. “Lori and I get along well enough and we have enough mutual attraction for romance.” With the power unleashed from their one little kiss, passion wouldn’t be a problem.

  “I don’t know,” Rob said slowly. “I can’t explain it, but with women romance isn’t slam, bam, thank you, ma’am. Somehow their heads have to get involved. Their emotions.”

  “So what do I do? I tried to play on her emotions with how Corey needs her.”

  “She’s not marrying Corey.”

  “No, but combining households makes such perfect sense.” Sharing his house and his life with Lori would require some adjusting on his part, but he couldn’t offer more than a mutually beneficial arrangement.

  “You can’t make sense out of affairs of the heart. It just doesn’t work. So until you’re ready to let someone love you and love them in return, you’re going to have to make do with hired help. If you want my advice, though, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.”

  Mac wanted to, but he didn’t know if he could survive loving and losing someone again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “YOU broke your promise,” Corey accused, his small body shaking with fury as he stood in Mac’s den.

  Mac inhaled sharply. He’d known Corey would take the news badly, but he’d hoped to reason with him. “Now, son…”

  “You said I could pick the housekeeper. You lied.”

  Mac left his desk to crouch beside his son. “I know, and I’m sorry. I wanted to find someone you liked, but I ran out of options. With problems at the hospital, I need to spend more time there.”

  “I don’t like Mrs Partridge.” He crossed his arms and turned his mouth into a pout. “I’d rather have Mrs Spillman.”

  Mac suspected as much, but he had absolutely no faith in her ability to run their household on an even keel, which was why he’d chosen Mrs Partridge. “You don’t know her well enough to not like her,” Mac said calmly. “Can’t you give her a chance?”

  “She’s going to make me do homework all the time.”

  “I’ll talk to her. I promise.”

  Corey’s raised eyebrow revealed exactly what he thought of his father’s promise.

  A fresh wave of guilt stabbed Mac’s chest. If the situation with Brad hadn’t turned out as it had, and if he’d been able to find another anesthetist or two, things would be different. His grace period had simply come to an end sooner than he’d expected.

  “Give her a chance,” he repeated. “Please? If it doesn’t work out, we’ll make a new plan.”

  Corey’s face remained settled in mutinous lines. “I still don’t understand why we need Mrs Partridge. I could stay with Lori on the nights you work.”

  “I know you like spending time at their house. I do, too,” Mac told him. “But this is your home.”

  “You won’t be here, so why does it matter where I am?”

  That barb stung. “I’m your father and I’m responsible for you,” Mac said firmly. “We can’t ask Lori to do this favor for us indefinitely. It was only a temporary measure.”

  “I want it to be permanent.”

  “I know you do,” Mac soothed. He recalled Rob’s advice. “Women need to feel special before they marry someone. They want dates, fancy dinners for two and flowers.”

  Corey’s eyes widened. “Oh. We haven’t done that, have we?”

  Mac smiled. “No, we haven’t.” Convincing Lori of how good they would be together required time to do the very things he’d described—time he didn’t have.

  “Could you do that after Mrs Partridge comes?”

  Mac hadn’t thought of it before, but having a housekeeper could help in that regard. She could watch both children so he and Lori could enjoy a night out or at least a few hours alone. “It’s possible.”

  “And I’d still get to visit Lori?”

  “Of course.” Mac frowned. “Did you think you wouldn’t ever see her again? Is that why you don’t like Mrs Partridge?”

  Corey shrugged as he dug the toe of his shoe into the carpeting and avoided Mac’s gaze. “Partly,” he mumbled.

  “Don’t worry,” Mac said as he hugged him, grateful to be able to dispel at least one of his son’s fears. “We’ll get together as often as possible.”

  For a moment Corey fell silent as he weighed the advantages and disadvantages. “I still don’t like Mrs Partridge,” he finally said. “And I’m still not happy because you didn’t let me choose like you said I could.”

  “I know and I’m sorry.”

  “But I’ll give her a try.”

  Corey’s grudging acceptance was more than Mac had expected at the start of their conversation. “Thanks for giving her a chance. I’m proud of you for making that decision.”

  “But if she’s mean…” Corey warned.

  “I’ll send her packing.” He hoped the two of them got along. While he wouldn’t hesitate to fire the woman, he was afraid of the damage it might inflict on his slowly growing relationship with his son. He’d never forgive himself if he lost the ground he’d gained.

  “Dad hired a housekeeper,” Corey informed Ronnie over the telephone.

  “Then he doesn’t want to marry my mom?”

  “I’m not sure. He says he still loves my mom, but then he talked about taking Lori on dates and stuff like that. I guess he wants to get to know her better.”

  “Golly, Cor. If he doesn’t know her by now…”

  Corey knew Ronnie was just as disappointed as he was. “Yeah, but I’m not giving up yet.”

  “Do you think he’ll marry Mrs Partridge instead?”

  “Nah. She’s too old. She’s more like a grandma.”

  “A grandma would be nice.”

  “Not this one,” Corey said darkly. “She doesn’t smile much. Not like Martha.”

  Her voice brightened. “Maybe your dad will miss coming to our house. We always had a good time at dinner.”

 
A ray of hope pierced his gloom. “Do you think so?”

  “He has to,” she said fiercely. “I miss you and you’re not even gone yet.”

  Corey agreed. He didn’t want to go back to eating dinner in silence and seeing his dad only before school every morning.

  “Maybe you should call your aunt Liz and ask her what to do,” Ronnie suggested. “She could even talk to your dad for you.”

  “I’ll email her,” Corey said. Surely his aunt could convince his dad to marry Lori.

  Ronnie stared at the bowl in front of her. “This is moo goo what?”

  “Moo goo gai pan,” Lori informed her daughter. “Try it. It’s delicious.”

  Ronnie looked at Corey who nodded his encouragement. “OK,” she said. “If Corey likes it, I’ll taste it.”

  Carefully hiding her smile from her daughter, Lori exchanged an amused glance with Mac before she placed a spoonful on top of Ronnie’s rice.

  It was Friday evening, the end of the first week of their final two weeks together and the time had passed faster than Lori would have liked. Mac had worked late every night, usually arriving near Corey’s bedtime. Tonight, however, he’d ended his day on time and had served dinner at his house, courtesy of The Chinese Garden.

  “What do you think?” Lori asked Ronnie as she tentatively tasted the bean sprouts.

  She looked thoughtful before she spoke. “I like it. Can I have my fortune cookie now?”

  “Finish your egg roll first,” Mac told her. “In the meantime, I want to hear about your day at school.”

  Lori listened while both children shared bits and pieces about their teacher and classmates. She’d heard it all earlier, but she didn’t mind listening again. She’d missed having Mac around for dinner and she savored every detail, memorizing them to recall at a later date.

  “We’re done,” Corey announced as soon as they’d cracked open their cookies and read the fortunes inside. “May we be excused?”

  “Yes, you may,” Lori answered.

  The two shot away from the table and headed for Corey’s room. Lori studied Mac from across the oak table capable of seating twelve. “You look exhausted,” she commented, noticing the lines of strain around his mouth and eyes.