A Touch of Passion (boxed set romance bundle)

by Uvi Poznansky

  “Hey, Harley,” he said, smiling.

  “Hey, Andy. Need anything?”

  “I was just talking to Jason,” he said softly. Harley looked at Carol and shrugged her shoulders. “You be okay if I leave for a minute?” Carol nodded and smiled.

  “We can talk in here,” Harley said, pointed to the medication room.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “I mean I know what’s going on, but you tell me.”

  “He found a swelling on my breast last night. Right here. She pointed to her right breast. And my armpit hurts. Like I’ve been lifting weights.”

  “Have you been?”

  “Lifting weights? No.” Andy looked out the medication room window at the dark recovery room, thinking.

  “Let’s get a mammogram. I’ll call radiology and talk to Sam Friedman. Tell your boss you have an emergency and have to leave the unit for a while. I’ll let you know the time as soon as I call over there. There’s no point in doing anything until I see your films.”

  “Okay, well thanks,” Harley said. “Tell my husband thanks, that I said hi.”

  She smiled at him, trusting him. Harley was private, and Jason knew that. She’d let it slide this time, but they better not chit chat about her breasts in the room. Her private health issues weren’t OR conversation. “And mums the word!”

  “Absolutely,” he said with a salute, leaving the recovery room.

  Harley returned to help Carol stock carts and untangling monitor lines. It was going to be a long day.

  ❋

  South of Philadelphia, in Delaware, Harley’s mother, Maryanne Blum was awake for work early, too, unaware yet of the drama unfolding in her daughter’s life. Maryanne was a nurse, as was her mother and grandmother. All the women, including Melissa went to nursing school at Saint Katherine’s in Baltimore, except for Harley. Harley was a university-educated nurse. Maryanne thought of this as she buttoned up the front of her white uniform, and polished her white shoes, making sure the laces received a good coating. Pale blond hair braided down her back, she’d pinned it into a bun so it wouldn’t fall into patient’s barf or wet beds. For the past seventeen years, she’d worked at the same nursing home three blocks from home.

  “Come on Kristy,” she called to her little dog. “Let’s get coffee.”

  The fluffy white dog hopped down off the bed and followed Maryanne into the kitchen. She loved her house, a trailer in an over fifty-five community. Having moved in long before she was a senior citizen, Harley’s dad was fifteen years older than Maryanne. A fabulous location close to the beach, it had every amenity available including a car service, laundry, housekeeping, even a putting green and tennis court. The only thing Maryanne used was the pool.

  But not today. Having to work five more years before she could retire, she couldn’t wait for that day to come. Her life had revolved around raising her family and the day each girl became eighteen, she was presented with a choice, either get a full-time job anywhere and move on, or go to school and work part time. There was no time to waste. Everyone in the household worked for the good of the family, and by the time they were twenty-one, all of her kids were educated and gainfully employed.

  “You’d never see my kid sitting around like that,” was a common phrase heard at their house. Harley was the youngest, and when she graduated from high school, she was the only one of the Blum girls to get a scholarship.

  “You’re going to get a full paid ride to Drexel and you’re going into nursing? What’s wrong with you?” Melissa had said. “Do something different. I’m so sick of hearing bedpan stories I could scream.” But Harley just laughed at her.

  “I want to belong,” she said. “You’re a nurse, Mommy’s a nurse, Kelly wanted to be a nurse.”

  Kelly was their wonderfully crazy middle sister; she tried nursing school but couldn’t take the needles and dying people and math questions on the tests. Kelly did the next best thing; she became a fitness trainer, working at a gym owned by the man she ended up marrying. The three sisters were touchstones to each other, inseparable and available for any crisis. Now this.

  After Andy Forman went back to the OR to begin his cases for the day, first calling his office and leaving instructions to schedule Harley’s mammogram, she did her job in a fog. The Surgical Services nurse manager, Sally Albertson was a kind woman who understood the needs of her staff, often filling in when there was an absence. She would do the same for Harley, who rarely came to her with problems.

  “I have a thickening in my breast and need a mammogram this morning if they can fit me in.”

  “Oh no,” she said, looking off into space, thinking of what it would mean to lose a nurse like Harley before answering. “Do you want to go home?”

  “No, no it’s not necessary,” she said. “I have to be here for the test anyway. If I can leave for a bit I’ll come right back.”

  “Okay, dear. No problem. Come to get me and I’ll fill in. Your colleagues will love that!” They laughed together; the few employees who played the system would have to pretend they were working while the boss was in the department.

  Harley got her first patient, one of Andy Forman’s breast biopsy patients, scared and crying. The young woman named Peggy Herndon didn’t think she’d survive a cancer diagnosis.

  “I have a newborn. My husband is in the Navy and our family is out west. There’s no one but the two of us. We had to bring the baby this morning.”

  Harley thought she’d heard a crying baby earlier and the woman confirmed it. She stayed close to her patient, letting her talk, her own fear building.

  “I hope I don’t have to wait too long to get a diagnosis,” she cried.

  Harley patted her hand, thinking about what she was saying. Why would they wait? The routine at their hospital had been to do a frozen section biopsy and let the patient know what they were dealing with right away.

  “Let me see what I can find out.” Harley asked another nurse to keep an eye on Peggy while she gathered information. Grabbing a hair cover, she went out into the OR corridor to find the room Andy was in. The scheduling board said he was in room eleven, around the hall, in a more secluded place where patients undergoing procedures with local anesthesia would less likely be traumatized by the activity of major surgeries and possible traumas coming in. Coming to the room, she saw Jason sitting at the head of the table with his anesthesia equipment, mask on, talking to the patient behind the anesthesia screen. On the other side of it, Andy was in his sterile gear and his nurses worked with him at the field and beyond. She didn’t want to go into the room and disturb the case so she opened the door just an inch and said “Pssst.” The circulating nurse, Joan Claridge, a friend from nursing school, saw her and came right over.

  “What’s up, Cutie Pie?” she said.

  “Ask Andy if Mrs. Herndon will get her results today. I’m checking because I know the policies keep changing and she’s worried sick.”

  Joan went back to the sterile field and spoke to Andy who looked up at the door and nodded to Harley. “He said to tell her he’ll have a report before she’s discharged from recovery. He already got it and she’s got cancer.”

  Harley’s heart sunk. Thanking Joan, she went back to the recovery room.

  “You’ll get the results this morning,” Harley said reaching for Peggy’s hand, smiling, lying. But that was her role, thank heaven. She didn’t give patients the tough news. All she had to do was help them get through it.

  “Harley, you have a call,” Carol said, interrupting her reverie.

  She let go of Peggy’s hand. “You’ll be going back to Same Day Surgery soon, but Dr. Forman will talk to you before you leave recovery.”

  “Okay, thank you,” Peggy said. “Thank you for staying with me.” Harley smiled and walked away, guilty her own issues interfered with what she thought she was able to give her patients.

  The phone was off the hook, waiting for her. “Harley Jones,” she said into the receiver.

  “Hi, it’s An
ne in the Women’s Center. We have you scheduled for a mammogram at one.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there,” she answered.

  It was only eight in the morning. Five hours to get through without making a mistake for worrying, stretched ahead. At twelve-thirty, Jason came looking for her. They’d waved at each other whenever he brought a patient in, giving her report if it was her patient, but nothing personal.

  “Can you get away?” he whispered.

  “I’ll ask Sally to relieve me,” she said. He followed her to the office and the nurse manager came right out as she said she would, smiling at Jason. He was a favorite among the women of the Operating Room. Jason and Harley walked to the lounge together.

  “Andy told me your mammogram was scheduled for one. I’m going with you.” Harley stopped in the hall and looked at him, frowning.

  “You don’t have to,” she said. It didn’t feel right. They weren’t the kind of couple that went with each other to the doctor. She wasn’t comfortable with everyone in the OR knowing their business, either.

  “I want to. I’m doing them a favor, staying late tonight because they expect the schedule to go late. Ortho has three add-ons. I can go to lunch with my wife.”

  “Andy didn’t talk about it in front of Joan and the others did he?” Jason stopped and took her by the shoulders.

  “No, of course not. No one will know about it.”

  “I am just on the edge of screaming,” she said honestly. “This is not a good time for health issues. Both of the older girls are on the soccer team this year, and Bennie wants to swim.”

  “She can choose one,” Jason said. “Those girls are out of control.”

  But he laughed at how unfair his assessment was. Their girls were wonderful teenagers, excellent students who were kind and well-behaved. “Forget it,” he said. “She can do whatever she wants.”

  “It’s probably nothing. It’s the unknown that’s making me crazy.” She thought of Peggy Herndon and her newborn.

  Jason grabbed a cover gown and gave one to Harley, helping her get her arm through. “If it’s not the beautiful people!” Al Conlon, Chief of Surgery and known jokester opened the door to the lounge. “Going for a little afternoon delight?”

  “I wish,” Jason replied laughing.

  “You’re both disgusting,” Harley said shaking her head. They walked out to the elevator hand in hand, silent.

  “I love you,” Jason said.

  “You, too,” Harley replied. They rode the elevator with other hospital workers, the smell of cafeteria food permeating the car. They got off on the appropriate floor. The radiologist, John Randolph, was waiting for them.

  “Have your procedure and I’ll look at the films. Andy Forman is waiting to hear from me.”

  Harley’s heart raced; she wasn’t used to the red carpet treatment anywhere, and didn’t really want it for this issue, everybody at the beck and call of her ailing breast.

  “Come with me,” Anne said, smiling. She explained the routine to her; take off everything above the waist, wipe off her deodorant with the wipes provided. Put the gown on with the opening to the front.

  “Does it hurt?” Harley asked.

  “Yes,” Anne replied shortly. “Just breathe through it. It’s just a quick smashing of the flesh.”

  Her dour delivery was just right for Harley and she started to laugh with such gusto that Jason could hear it as he chatted with the radiologist about tennis.

  “My wife rarely lets it out. Someone must be good back there.”

  “Anne’s hysterical,” John said.

  The mammogram was just as Anne had said; a quick smashing of Harley’s breasts. They had her wait in the room while Dr. Randolph checked them over in case he needed more views.

  “These are perfect. Have her get dressed,” he said. He put the first one back up on the light box and invited Jason over to look. Pointing, his concern was obvious. “This is very suspicious. See how the skin is thickened? That’s what we’re looking for. I can see shadows beginning in her axilla. That’s not a good sign either.” Jason was thinking he’d like to faint. Just keel over and be done with it.

  “I’ll get in touch with Andy Forman right away. He’ll probably want to do a punch biopsy. It includes a piece of the skin, unlike biopsies for lumps, in which the surgeon removes the lump. A punch biopsy will be the least disturbing to the surrounding tissue.” He took the film down and turned to Jason, who was holding on to the desk, pale and sweating.

  “Hey buddy, you okay? You better have a seat.”

  “No, I need to go out to my wife. She’s probably having a cow waiting.”

  “Okay, I’ll be gentle with her,” he said. They walked out into the waiting room together. As soon as Harley saw Jason, she pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “You okay?” She asked. He nodded his head.

  “Your mammogram is suspicious for inflammatory breast cancer, Harley. I’ll call Andy now and he’ll talk to you both about the next step, which will be a biopsy. Do you have any questions?”

  “Thanks, no. I guess I’m more worried about Mr. Jones, here. Come on; let’s get back to the OR.”

  Jason took her arm while Dr. Flanagan put his hand on Jason’s back and walked with them out to the elevator. This was exactly the reason she didn’t want Jason to come with her. He’d end up talking to the radiologist about tennis or golf, or get faint, just like what happened. She could have nailed the guy for more information, but after traversing cyberspace last night, she felt like she already knew everything there was to know about IBC. And it wasn’t good.

  Chapter 3

  After her mammogram, Harley finished charting on her last patient and was able to leave by two-thirty. Fran Jones, Jason’s wonderful mother, had been with Devon all day and would be looking for Harley to get home. She pulled into their subdivision, and the beauty of it brought tears to her eyes. They lived completely differently than the way she’d lived growing up.

  Her father, Glenn Blum was a wounded warrior, shot in the back in nineteen-seventy-two in Vietnam. After his injury, he came home in a wheelchair. They lived in trailers because it was easier for Maryanne to maintain, working nights so that the children were with their father instead of a sitter. Melissa and Kelly said they always felt loved and secure with their dad at home.

  Six years after his injury, Maryanne got pregnant with Harley, and the outward evidence of his virility energized Glenn, so that by the time she was born he was a changed man. After being on disability for six years, Glenn went back to work, becoming a spokesperson for wounded veterans in the workplace. The father Harley knew was a vital, sought after speaker, no longer trapped in a hospital bed.

  Sitting side by side, looking through old photo albums together when she was ten, the youngster Harley was confused by the pictures of her father in a hospital bed, looking forlorn. “Daddy, what happened to you?” she asked.

  “I went to war. Do you know what war is?”

  The child shook her head, and Glenn examined her face carefully. “It’s a story for another time,” he answered. “But I have something for you.”

  He took her hand, wheeling to the master bedroom. Taking a small hinged box off the dresser, he patted a space on the bed for her to sit. Harley watched, mesmerized as he slowly lifted the lid of the jewelry box. Inside, he shuffled neatly stacked items, finding a pair of dog tags encased in clear rubbery coating, suspended on a chain.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “They’re called dog tags. I wore them around my neck,” he answered. “If you look closely, you can see my name and birthdate. I want you to have them.”

  “Me?” she asked, confused. Her father was someone she admired, but from afar. Receiving a special item from him was overwhelming, almost scary.

  “I think you deserve it,” he said. “When you were born, it changed my life. I owe you so much.”

  Passionate, emotional, Glenn Blum didn’t know enough about his children to realize he might be
scaring Harley. “Be careful to keep them in a safe place,” he said. “They can’t be replaced.”

  Harley took the tags from him, hid them in an empty tea canister for safekeeping.

  Everything went smoothly until five years ago when stopping for a pack of cigarettes at a convenience store in one of the beach towns, Glenn was shot to death during a robbery.

  Now, for the first time in years, she thought of her father’s dog tags and wanted them, no needed them around her neck.

  Just as Harley pulled the car into the garage, Fran opened the door with little Devon waiting, jumping up and down, yelling, “Mommy!”

  Harley grabbed her items and went to her littlest daughter, the news of the day forgotten momentarily. “Where are your sisters?” she asked, kissing Devon.

  “I dropped them off at the mall,” Fran said. “Tina had orchestra practice.”

  “Oh right, I forgot. What were they looking for at the mall?”

  “I gave them birthday money for school clothes,” she answered.

  “Well, that was very nice of you. By the way, I smell something good! Granny Fran, you didn’t have to.” Although she appreciated it when her mother-in-law cooked, she didn’t expect it. “I really am grateful for you.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said. “Sausage and peppers.” She went to get her purse. “I wish you would come to the shore this weekend.”

  Taking a deep breath, the events of the day came back to her. Maybe going to the beach would be the best thing for the family. “I’ll talk to Jason when he gets home.” The words were just out of her mouth when she her phone rang.

  “Is my mother still there?”

  “She’s getting ready to leave,” Harley said.

  “Ask her to wait. I’m almost home.” Frowning, Harley wondered if he was going to make a big deal out of what was happening, and she didn’t want him to.

  “Maybe we should talk first,” she said softly. Harley could hear her mother-in-law’s phone beep.