Prescription For Love

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “What?” He looked both perplexed and amused. “And you’ve been mad at me all this time? For nothing?”

  Humiliation, confusion, and remorse converged inside her heart. “Well, it’s not as if I thought about it night and day. I didn’t.”

  “It was over ten years ago!”

  Ravyn lifted her chin. “If what Shelley had told me was true, which I now realize wasn’t, then I had good reason to dislike you.”

  Mark held up his hand, palm-side out. “All right. You’ve made your point.”

  Ravyn mentally groped to make sense of it all. Then she ended up spilling out the story to Mark.

  “So I always felt responsible,” she stated at last.

  “Because Shelley got sick and you stepped into her role?” He shook his head. “You had no control over that.”

  “But I thought she blamed me for the failed romance between you two—the one that never existed.” Ravyn mas-saged her temples. She felt a headache coming on.

  “Hey, look, you and Shelley were both kids back then. Let’s just forget it, okay?”

  She nodded but sensed it wouldn’t be quite that simple. What Mark didn’t understand was that she and Shelley had been so close for so long it had felt like losing a limb when Ravyn lost her friendship. Shelley had left Dubuque without even a good-bye.

  Mark glanced at his wristwatch. “I need to get moving. I promised my aunt I’d pick her up and take her back to the hospital.”

  His comment reminded Ravyn of Chet Darien’s heart attack. “Is your uncle feeling better?”

  “Not sure. He was sleeping when I left this morning. But I think he’ll pull through just fine.”

  They slid from the booth and stood. Mark paid the bill at the front cash register, and Ravyn felt as though she owed him an apology. She’d said some awful things and he hadn’t been obligated to explain himself, but he did. A lesser man might have lost his temper.

  They walked into the parking lot, and she zipped her jacket as the cool April wind felt more like winter than spring this morning. They’d had some warm weather, but now the air had a decided nip to it.

  “Hey, Mark, I’m sorry for—”

  “Forget it.” He pulled on his navy blue sweatshirt.

  “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “My pleasure.” He gave her a smile. “Let’s be friends, all right? Life’s too short for Christians to hold grudges. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” She looked into his brown eyes and saw only earnestness there.

  “I’ll see you back at work in a couple of days. We’ll talk some more then.”

  “Okay.” Ravyn fished the keys from out of her purse, unlocked her car, and climbed in. She started her car, replaying her conversation with Mark in her mind. She believed him, although she couldn’t seem to come to grips with Shelley’s decade-old lies.

  “Mark said he loved me, Ravyn, and right after I finish high school we’ll get married. Will you be my maid of honor? I’ve never been so happy in all my life!”

  Shelley couldn’t have possibly feigned that starry-eyed gaze.

  But Mark looked equally as genuine today.

  Suddenly Ravyn sensed something was very, very wrong.

  ❧

  “Hey, the place is really coming together.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ravyn bid her sister entry into the condo and closed the door. She glanced around the living room, pleased with what she saw. Her new cranberry-colored sofa with its six loose pillows had arrived yesterday, and the carpet she’d recently purchased—a woven wool blend in shades of beige, crimson, and gold—added just the right contrast. In the far corner, a beautiful oak entertainment center housed a large flat-screen TV, along with a state-of-the-art video and DVD player.

  “Nice, Rav.” Teala ran her hand over the beveled-glass top of the coffee table.

  She felt her smile broaden. “Looks better than in the catalog, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does.”

  Ravyn headed for the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “No, thanks.”

  After plucking a large mug from the cupboard, Ravyn filled it with the rich-smelling, steaming brew.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said the other afternoon,” Teala said, walking up behind her. “I know you care about people. That’s why you’re a nurse. It’s just that—well, Greg and I are so happy and. . .” Her cheeks pinked in a way that made Ravyn grin. “I just want everyone to experience the same euphoria.”

  “Euphoria?” Ravyn rolled her eyes. “Good grief.”

  “Okay, okay. Maybe I’m exaggerating just a tad. But will you forgive me?” Teala looked at Ravyn with those wide, blue-green eyes and did a great imitation of the adorable puppy-in-the-window look.

  “Of course I forgive you, but I think Greg has his hands full.” Ravyn grinned before sipping her coffee. “Oh, and speaking of men, guess who I had breakfast with a couple of days ago?”

  “A man?” Teala feigned an expression of sheer mortification.

  “Knock it off, you drama queen.” There was little wonder in Ravyn’s mind as to why Dad cast Teala in so many of his productions. Unlike her big sister, Teala had no problem performing in front of a large audience. In fact, the more spectators, the better.

  “So, do tell, Rav. Who did you have breakfast with?”

  “Do you remember Mark Monroe? You may not because you were only ten when—”

  “I remember Mark. In fact, I’ve run into him a bunch of times over the years, but I’ve either been with Mom or Dad, so I just kind of stood by while he talked to them. Is that who you had breakfast with?”

  Ravyn nodded. “He’s finishing up his residency at Victory.”

  “He’s a nice-looking guy—and a doctor, too?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Single?”

  “Yep.”

  Teala’s eyes sparkled with possibilities. “He sounds perfect for you. A guy who’s going to make tons of money.”

  “There you go again. You make me sound totally material-istic.” Ravyn turned and strode toward the living room.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Teala was right on her heels. “I just meant, well, you know. You’ve got, well, certain standards you’ve set for yourself.”

  Ravyn halted and Teala smacked right into her. The coffee sloshed over the mug and splattered onto the tan and off-white ceramic floor tiles.

  “Oops. Sorry, Rav. I’ll wipe it up.” Teala traipsed to the stainless steel sink and ripped off a piece of paper toweling from the wooden holder mounted beneath the oak cabinets. “So are you interested in him?”

  “No. We’re friends. That’s all.” Her conscience pricked. If she wasn’t interested in Mark, then why couldn’t she shake him from her thoughts?

  “Being friends is a good place to start.”

  “And a good place to end.”

  “Oh, Ravyn. Give the guy a chance.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want a chance. And you’re a hopeless romantic.”

  “That’d be me.”

  With the spill wiped up, Ravyn led her sister into the living room where they sat on the sofa.

  “The thing is,” Ravyn said, sipping her coffee, “in talking with Mark, I discovered that Shelley lied to me about some-thing that’s been haunting me for years, except the incident—make that incidents—never even occurred.”

  “She was mean. I didn’t like Shelley.”

  “You used to say I was mean, too.”

  Teala relented. “Well, yeah, but that’s because you always had to babysit for Violet and me.”

  “The bossy big sister and her equally bossy best friend?”

  “Something like that.”

  They shared a laugh.

  Ravyn folded her legs beneath her. “I just can’t believe Shelley would lie.” She shook her head, thinking back on those summer days so long ago. “She’d talked about Mark all the time and she was devastated when he broke things off. But he says
there was never anything between them, so there was never any breakup. I sense he’s telling the truth, but that means—”

  “Maybe Shelley didn’t really mean to lie. Could be she was just so infatuated that she lost touch with the reality of the situation.”

  Ravyn had never considered it quite like that before. “Think so?”

  “Well, sure. I mean, people believe all sorts of stuff that isn’t true. Think about it.”

  “Well, yeah. It makes sense. We were both very naïve at age sixteen.”

  “Way back in the day.”

  “It wasn’t that long ago.” Ravyn sent her younger sister a quelling look.

  “Long enough. Who cares anymore?” Teala made herself comfy by kicking off her shoes and setting her feet on the coffee table. “I want to hear more about you and Mark. What did you two talk about at breakfast? What kind of doctor is he? What was he wearing?”

  Ravyn rolled her eyes. She had a feeling it would take some effort to convince Teala there was nothing between her and Mark.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Five

  Mark sat in the ER at a vacant workstation located between the phlebotomist’s area and the unit secretary’s desk. There was an incessant buzz of male and female voices all around him while telephones rang, monitors bleeped, printers and copiers hummed. He tried to ignore the commotion as he scanned the computer for lab results. A positive test meant calling and informing the patient.

  A nurse leaned over him and snatched a chart off the countertop. She apologized before scurrying away. Mark barely noticed. He’d learned to tune out everything but the task at hand. However, the sudden tap, tap, tap on his left shoulder blade commanded his immediate attention.

  He swiveled in his chair and found Ravyn smiling down at him.

  “You must be really concentrating,” she said. “I called your name twice.”

  “Sorry.” He sent her an apologetic grin.

  “How’s your uncle?”

  “He’s doing well—probably go home tomorrow. Doesn’t look like he’ll need bypass surgery. The angioplasty seems to have been effective.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Sure is.” In two quick glances, Mark took in Ravyn’s appearance. The sky-blue scrubs accentuated her petite form and complemented her black hair, eyes, and thick lashes. His gaze moved over her face and he found her dark features a striking contrast to the paleness of her skin. He had to admit he liked what he saw.

  “Mark?”

  “Huh?” At the sound of her strong but smooth voice, he shook himself. He felt chagrined for staring. “Oh, sorry. Guess I zoned out. I’m tired.” He hoped it sounded like a viable cover.

  “No problem.”

  It worked. He expelled a breath of relief, although his reply hadn’t been too far from the truth. The word tired could just as well replace the MD after his name.

  Ravyn folded her arms. “When are you done with your residency?”

  “End of June.” He leaned back in the chair.

  “Quite an accomplishment.”

  Mark arched a brow and couldn’t help teasing her. “You sound surprised.”

  “No.” She lifted her small shoulders in a noncommittal way, but seconds later two pink spots spread across her cheekbones. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  He chuckled, finding a peculiar delight in causing her to blush.

  “Hey, George!”

  Mark’s good humor vanished and his patience threatened to follow. He glanced to his left and peered at the middle-aged nurse who’d hailed him. He abhorred the nickname but supposed he should feel flattered. After all, there were worse names RNs could call residents.

  He took the proffered chart and read it while the nurse voiced her request. After scribing the order, Mark turned back to Ravyn, but to his disappointment, she’d disappeared.

  ❧

  When her lunch break arrived, Ravyn walked out onto what was referred to as the smoking deck. The large cement slab had been constructed adjacent to the ambulance bay and it served as a patio and smoking area for the ER staff.

  Sitting down at one of the picnic tables, Ravyn unzipped her thermal lunch bag. Next she removed the curry chicken and rice mixture that Mom created the other night. Teala had brought over a good-sized portion of the spicy concoction yesterday, and all Ravyn had had to do was heat it up in the break room’s microwave tonight.

  She began eating and glanced around the darkened deck. Only two halogen lamps on either side of the building provided light, but Ravyn felt safe enough. Several feet away, one male nurse whom she recognized from the ER chatted with two females while they took long drags on their cigarettes.

  Ravyn regarded them as they conversed and laughed at something the other had said. A sudden pang of loneliness caused her to set down her plastic fork. She realized it was hard to be new at any job, and she welcomed the challenges this position at Victory brought her way. At the same time, however, she missed the people who had become her friends at her former place of employment. There she never used to have to eat alone.

  “Mind if I sit here?”

  Before she could answer, Mark plunked himself down on the bench across from her, shaking the entire table unit with his weight.

  Ravyn gave him a sassy grin. “Sure, this is public property. Make yourself comfortable.”

  He already had. “Just for your information, I’m not stalking you or anything,” he sassed right back. “I do get an occasional break, and since I saw you sitting out here, I thought I’d keep you company.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She smiled. “Seriously. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”

  “Good.”

  An awkward pause settled between them.

  Then Mark leaned forward. “What are you eating? Smells good.”

  “It’s something my mom made. Want a bite? I think I have an extra fork in my lunch bag.”

  “Well, maybe just a little.”

  Ravyn fished the disposable utensil from her gold and black-trimmed lunch bag. After handing it to Mark, she pushed the plastic container of meat, vegetables, and rice across the table.

  He took a forkful. “Hey, this is pretty good.” He took another bite. “Has kind of a kick to it.”

  Ravyn nodded and watched Mark eat some more. Deciding to let him polish off the curry chicken, she extracted a yogurt and spoon from her bag.

  “Are you as good a cook as your mom?” The question came in between mouthfuls.

  “I’m actually a better cook than Mom—and I don’t mean that in a gloating way. But my culinary skills are well known in my family because I did all the cooking until I went to college. After that, I didn’t always have time, so my sisters took turns. Mom only recently developed in interest in cooking.”

  “No kidding? You did most of the cooking growing up?”

  “Yep. I did all the laundry and housework, too.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Mom and Dad were always gone.”

  “Your parents are remarkable people. They really impacted my life, particularly your dad.”

  Ravyn didn’t reply, wondering what Mark would think if she told him how truly “remarkable” her folks had been. Al and Zann Woods had traipsed from one public housing complex to another with their daughters in tow. Ravyn remem-bered those years well—too well. While her parents had viewed their bleak surroundings as mission fields, Ravyn saw them as misfortunes.

  “My great-aunt and uncle have influenced my life in a positive way, too. I’m the third kid out of six and I guess I always felt neglected. That’s why acting appealed to me. It was an acceptable way to get attention.”

  Ravyn smiled.

  “But your parents and my aunt and uncle helped me see outside myself and put my focus onto the needs of others.”

  “I’ll share that with my father. He’ll be very encouraged.”

  “Good.”

  Mark took another bite of Ravyn’s dinner, and several moments of clumsy silence p
assed.

  “So. Are you seeing anyone?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Any special guy in your life?”

  His question made her laugh. “Mark, you’re about as subtle as an atomic bomb.”

  “What can I say? I’m a busy guy.” The chagrin was evident in the tone of his voice. “I mean, for all I know you could be in the throes of planning your wedding.”

  “Hardly. In fact, Teala will probably get married before I do. She’s dating a teacher at Our Savior Christian School. We joke about it. Teala, the professional college student, dating a teacher.”

  Beneath the dim lights, Ravyn saw Mark smile. He’d left his MD coat inside the hospital and only wore his light-green scrubs. After an unseasonably warm day, the nighttime temperatures felt brisk. The ER, in comparison, was hot and stuffy. No doubt Mark came out here to cool off.

  “So how come you’re not married?” She figured one good inquiry deserved another. She grinned. “I should think you’d make a fine catch for any girl.”

  “Well, thanks. But, um, the right one just hasn’t come along yet.”

  “Hmm.” Ravyn decided he got out of answering that question rather easily.

  “Actually, I dated someone on and off for a couple of years, but it became clear to both of us that marriage wasn’t God’s will. We broke things off and it was a mutual decision.”

  An image of Carla’s pretty face flitted through Ravyn’s mind. “Does she still work here?” She caught herself. “No, wait. You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Ravyn finished the yogurt and reached for the red licorice she’d packed in her lunch bag. She tore open the bag.

  “It’s okay, Ravyn, I don’t mind answering your question.” Mark polished off the rice and chicken entrée and reached for a couple braids of licorice. “No, she doesn’t work here. Never did.”

  Ravyn paused in mid chew.

  “Never assume,” Mark said, waving a long piece of candy at her. Then he chuckled.

  “You’re right. It’s just that most of my friends are usually coworkers—because I spend so much time at work.”

  “Natural deductive reasoning on your part.” Mark continued to smile as he bit off a piece of licorice. “I met Hannah at church.”