“Excuse me. Will you sign these discharge orders?”
He turned and within moments Ravyn saw recognition spark in his brown eyes. She, on the other hand, said nothing. The swell of unresolved sadness over losing Shelley’s friendship wouldn’t allow any words to form.
He tipped his head. “Ravyn Woods—is that you?”
She managed a nod and hid behind her professionalism. “Hi, Mark. I need these papers signed.”
“I didn’t know you worked here at Victory.” He took the proffered chart. “I thought you lived in Wisconsin and worked at the University Hospital.”
“That’s where I’m headed—eventually.” Surprise loosened her tongue. How did he know that?
“Oh. Well. . .” He continued to smile at her, and she resisted the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny. “Have you been at Victory long?”
“A few weeks.”
“That explains why I haven’t seen you before now.”
Ravyn longed to wipe the silly grin off his face.
“It’s really nice to see you again.”
“Thanks.”
“Ironic how we both ended up in the medical field.”
“Yeah.” She tapped her finger on the chart. “We’re waiting on your autograph here, Doctor.”
“Oh. Right.” He glanced down at the paperwork. “Who’s being discharged?”
“Ian Jeffers and Wanda Smith. The patients in rooms 6 and 7.”
Mark glanced at the white board behind him on which every patient’s first name had been written. “Great. I’m sure they’ll be happy to go home.” He pulled his ink pen from his white jacket’s breast pocket and scratched his signature across each page.
“You know, it’s crossed my mind to give you a call,” he said. “Aunt Edy’s done her best to keep me up-to-date on you and your family. She said you lived at home—”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh.” He shook his head, looking embarrassed. “I haven’t heard an update in a while. Med school and my residency have absorbed most of my adult life.” He smiled. “And keeping up with you and your family was a lot easier when they belonged to the same church as Aunt Edy and Uncle Chet.”
Ravyn figured that was probably true. At one time her family attended the same church as the Dariens. But when it grew too large, the pastor felt it became too impersonal and he developed an idea for a spin-off church on the other side of town. Ravyn’s folks were always up for an adventure and volunteered to be some of those members who left to help start the new church.
“Last I heard you’d graduated from college. I even saw your picture in the newspaper.”
“That was five years ago.”
Mark nodded. “Like I said, I’m out of touch. But maybe if things slow down later we can talk and catch up.” He handed her the sheets of paper.
She pushed out a tight little smile.
“Or, better yet, give me your phone number and I call you sometime soon.”
When pigs fly!
At that instant, Carla walked by and sent Ravyn a scathing look. Ravyn’s opinion of Mark slipped a notch lower. Not only was he a hypocrite and a heartbreaker, he put Casanova to shame.
Without another word, Ravyn strode back to where the patients’ charts lay on the counter. She slipped the multi-colored forms into the appropriate chart. When she looked up, she caught Mark’s dark-eyed stare. He smiled and Ravyn quickly lowered her gaze.
“Hey, quit making eyes at George, will you?” Liz came to stand alongside her. “I need help with Mrs. Johnson in room 8.”
“I’m not making eyes at anyone. That’s the last thing I’d do—especially with him.”
“Oh?” Liz’s expression said she was interested in knowing why.
But Ravyn wasn’t about to divulge her personal reasons. This was her job. Her livelihood. Unfortunately, her nerves felt jangled as she carried the charts to the unit clerk’s desk. The night wasn’t off to the start she had hoped for. Her new position was suddenly overshadowed by a real-life drama—one she wanted no part of. A wandering-eyed resident, a loudmouth coworker, and a jealous x-ray tech.
Ravyn began to dread the next eleven and a half hours.
Two
Dr. Mark Monroe glanced at his wristwatch. The time he’d been waiting for was now just minutes away—time to go home. He was going on twenty-four hours without a decent night’s sleep and he felt exhausted. His body craved a soft mattress covered by clean, fresh-smelling sheets, a far cry from the lumpy bed in the residents’ room outside of the intensive care unit. But when Ravyn showed up in the ER, Mark suddenly felt a surge of energy. It was great to see her again; he felt like he’d run into a long-lost friend. But did he detect a hint of animosity? Maybe he’d been too forward in asking for her phone number. Under other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been so bold, but he was acquainted with Ravyn and her family. Of course, Ravyn might be dating someone. Maybe she’d even gotten married.
No, Aunt Edy would have heard that news and told him.
“Hey, Monroe.”
Mark gave himself a mental shake and turned to see Dr. Len Tadish, the house MD, marching toward him, wearing his ever-stoic expression. The man looked like a drill sergeant in physicians’ garb.
“Baker’s got pharyngitis. I need you to stay until tomorrow morning.”
Mark knew better than to argue. “Okay.” One more shift and then he’d be off for eight hours. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
The veteran physician gave Mark a friendly slap on the back. “You’re covering the ER. Looks like there are four patients who need consults and you’ve got two traumas coming in.”
“Won–der–ful.” Mark didn’t even attempt to conceal his sarcasm.
“Have a good one.” Tadish gave him a grin and exited the ER.
Mark blew out a weary breath and reminded himself that it wouldn’t be long now; he would complete his residency at the end of June. Even though he had MD behind his name, since graduating from med school, he couldn’t have his own practice until he finished his residency. But even after he finished here at Victory, he wouldn’t settle into a clinic or further his education here at the hospital. Instead he planned to travel around the country, going from church to church, gaining support for his move to a tiny country off the coast of Indonesia where he planned to work as a medical missionary. He’d join up with a team of volunteers already there making great strides in providing basic education and health services to the nationals.
Serving the Lord in a full-time capacity was one of the things he’d taken away from his time with Al and Zann Woods that summer so long ago, and he hadn’t forgotten those lessons learned, even though he had long since ditched his dreams of becoming a famous actor. Pursuing his next best interest, a career as a medical doctor, had seemed more reasonable and God-honoring for him. However, there were days Mark had to seriously wonder at his decision. When all was said and done, he’d have put in thirteen-plus years of school, which included the time it had taken him to earn his bachelors degree in premed.
Nonetheless, this was the Lord’s will for his life. Mark felt sure of it. He wanted to help people, not only physically and mentally, but spiritually, too. He couldn’t imagine having gotten this far without his great-aunt and great-uncle, Edy and Chet Dorien. They’d opened their home on the outskirts of Dubuque after Mark was accepted to med school here at Victory Medical College, an affiliate of Victory Medical Center. Then the Doriens had funded much of his education. They said it was their way of supporting God’s work.
But in spite of the financial and emotional encouragement, med school and his residency hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. It had consumed all his time and required dedication. However, the end was near. He had a month to go. . . .
His pager bleeped, announcing the first of the two traumas.
Mark drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. Looked like it was going to be one long night.
❧
Ravyn yawned as she made her way to her
car the next morning. She had concluded hours ago that working the night shift was going to take some physical adjustment. While she had worked odd shifts before, she’d never been a third-shifter on a regular basis.
As she walked down the long hallway, now filled with employees coming in to work for the day, she opened her small black purse and began searching it for her car keys. She slowed her steps while she hunted.
“Hey, Ravyn, wait up.”
She grimaced at hearing Mark’s voice behind her. She had managed to avoid him for the past eleven hours, even eating her lunch in the women’s locker room instead of dining with the others in the twenty-four-hour coffee shop and café located on the lower level. Just her bad luck to run into him now as she was leaving.
Keys in hand, she decided to pretend she hadn’t heard him and quickened her pace. But Mark caught up to her in no time. He cupped her elbow and gently pulled her to a halt.
“Whoa, Ravyn. Hang on.”
Having no choice, she turned to face him.
“I just wanted to apologize if I was out of line when I asked for your number. I realize a lot probably changed over the years.” He let go of her arm and shifted his stance. “For all I know you’re married now with a couple kids.”
She did her best to give him a polite smile and momentarily debated whether to divulge her marital status. The truth won out at last.
“I’m not married. No kids.”
“Yeah, I rather thought Aunt Edy would have known about something like that.” A pleased-looking smile spread across his face. “I’m still single, too.”
Ravyn couldn’t have cared less and turned to walk away.
Mark took hold of her elbow again. “Want to go out for breakfast?”
She glimpsed his hopeful expression but couldn’t believe his nerve. “Won’t Carla mind?”
“Carla who?” A confused frown furrowed his dark brows.
Some of the decade-old resentment she still carried in her heart spilled out into her laugh. “Very good, Mark.” She applauded. “It’s Oscar time for you.”
“Huh?” His frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”
Ravyn had wheeled around and was now making purposeful strides toward her car.
“Ravyn.”
She unlocked her vehicle, yanked the door open, then slid behind the steering wheel. Before Mark could say another word, she pulled the door closed with a slam.
❧
Mark lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Despite pulling the shades and drawing the draperies, the sunshine still managed to seep into the room. The sounds of children playing outside combined with a neighbor’s lawnmower did little to lull him to sleep. Worse, now that he was so overtired he felt high-strung and tense.
He closed his eyes and tried deep breathing exercises. He worked to conjure up pleasant thoughts, but all he saw in his mind’s eye pertained to the fast-paced hospital setting that he knew so well.
Then he envisioned Ravyn. He could picture the way her sky-blue eye shadow matched the color of her scrubs, both accentuating her pale features and contrasting with her black hair and eyes. She’d been a pretty girl when she was “sweet sixteen,” and she’d matured into a beautiful woman.
Memories resurfaced and he couldn’t stifle the grin that tugged at his mouth. He’d been attracted to her from the time he met her and, at first, he’d thought she was older. She’d behaved older—hardly a giggling teenager. He was twenty and when he learned she was four years younger than he, Mark didn’t dare pursue a romantic relationship. But they became friends and Mark would forever think back on that summer as one of the most memorable in his lifetime. He’d looked forward to waking up each day and, except for acting out his role, he couldn’t recall not having a smile on his face—from mid-June to Labor Day. Then, when Ravyn stepped into the lead role and he was actually required to kiss her, it had made his whole summer complete.
Mark continued to grin as he remembered Ravyn and her sisters. Each had been named after a color since their mother loved to paint. Ravyn got her name because of her dark features, Teala because of her blue-green eyes. And Violet—
Mark pursed his mouth in thought, unable to bring the reason for her name to mind. Had he ever known it?
He pondered the question a few moments before his musings came back around to Ravyn. Why did she seem angry with him? What had he done to offend her? Surely it couldn’t have been the mere phone number question.
He thought awhile longer.
Bigger question yet, why had the Lord brought Ravyn back into his life?
Mark mulled over the latter. Ravyn and her family lived in the College Grandview District of Dubuque, not far from the university. Comparatively, Victory Medical Center was located west of the city and so was the newer subdivision in which Aunt Edy and Uncle Chet had built their home. Mark had always hoped to run into the Woodses. He’d even thought of dropping by for a visit since the distance between them wasn’t all that far. But it just never worked out. He had practically lived at the hospital these past four years. It wasn’t called a residency for nothing. Prior to that, he was in med school and that hadn’t exactly been a picnic by the river, either.
He expelled a long sigh and reminded himself that his hard work would soon pay off. By the first of the year he hoped to be on the mission field.
He was so close to attaining his goals now. So close. . .
❧
“Mark! Mark! Come quick! Hurry!”
He awoke with a start, unaware he’d even been sleeping. The sound of Aunt Edy’s panicked voice penetrated his foggy mind and he bolted out of bed. Wearing a pair of gray gym shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, he left the bedroom and followed the sound of Edy’s calls.
“Mark, hurry!”
“I’m coming!” He ran down the carpeted steps. “What’s going on?” He fought to clear his fuzzy brain.
“It’s Chet,” she said, meeting him at the foot of the stairs and wringing her hands. She sounded winded and her perfectly combed and styled honey-colored hair looked almost as frantic as the light in her hazel eyes. “He was tilling the flower bed and collapsed. He’s breathing, but—”
“Did you call 911?” Mark rushed past her and headed for the backyard.
“Not yet. I’ll do that right now.”
Mark dashed outside and across the wide, well-groomed lawn. The grass felt soft and cool beneath his bare feet. In seconds, he reached Uncle Chet, who lay on his side, his back to Mark.
He knelt over the older man who’d been a bulwark of en-couragement to him the last several years. “Uncle Chet, what’s going on? Can you talk to me?”
The older man groaned in reply.
Mark assessed him—pale, clammy, and his pulse beat in irregular rhythms. Uncle Chet clutched his chest and seemed short of breath. Mark guessed he was suffering a heart attack and took action at once to keep him stable until the emergency personnel arrived. Then, once the paramedics showed up, Mark stepped back to allow the two men to perform their jobs. Minutes later, they loaded Chet into the ambulance.
“Which hospital?” one of the medics asked. Tall and blond, his blue eyes sparked with intelligence and capability. Mark instinctively knew his uncle was in good hands. “Do you have a preference?”
“Take him to Victory Medical Center.” Mark helped Aunt Edy into the vehicle. She had decided to ride in back where she could be with Chet. “I’ll get dressed and meet you there.”
She nodded and then the paramedic climbed in. The ambulance doors were closed and moments later, lights flashing and siren screaming, it took off down the street.
Neighbors stood on their front lawns and gawked, but Mark paid them little attention. He had to get to the hospital and, as much as he loved Chet, this certainly wasn’t how he imagined spending his day off.
Three
Hi, I’m Ravyn. I’ll be your nurse now because the shift changed and. . .”
She stopped short. After casting a smile, at first her patient and then at t
he older woman seated beside him, Ravyn caught a glimpse of Mark Monroe, wearing an apricot polo shirt and blue jeans, perched on a hard plastic chair in the corner of the ER’s exam room.
She felt her body tense. Ever since their meeting last night, she had known she would run into him sooner or later. Ravyn had only wished it’d been later.
“Hi, Mark.” She kept her tone polite and professional.
He sat up a little straighter. “Hi, Ravyn. Nice to see you again.”
She caught his smile and decided he looked tired. “Are you on call?” She hadn’t heard Mark was around, and from what she’d gathered, the buzz that George was in the ER usually preceded him—not that it mattered to her, of course.
Ravyn just wished she could shake him from her thoughts. She had tried to sleep today, but she’d kept reliving that summer when she’d first met Mark. She felt indignant for Shelley all over again, and the guilt that she’d been the cause of Shelley’s breakup with Mark had gnawed at her for hours.
“No, I’m not on call.” He nodded at the older couple. “Do you remember my aunt and uncle?”
“Of course, but I—” She opened the chart and peered at her patient’s name. She suddenly felt foolish for not recognizing it at once. “I guess I didn’t put two and two together.”
The older woman smiled from her bedside seat. “Mark told us you that you’re working here at Victory now.”
“Yes. Just recently started.” Ravyn decided Edy Darien had a timeless appearance, right down to her khaki slacks and hunter green cotton sweater.
“How nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” The reply seemed a tad automatic, although Ravyn had always thought the Dariens were warmhearted people.
“Now and then I run into your mother at a women’s retreat or seminar,” Mrs. Darien said. “Are your parents doing another play this summer? I look forward to them every Labor Day weekend.”
“Um, yeah, I think Dad’s holding auditions pretty soon. It’s about that time.” Ravyn began to feel uncomfortable with the topic. She knew what was coming even before it came out of Mark’s mouth.
Prescription For Love Page 2