Prescription For Love

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  Mark stood and made his way toward the exit. He couldn’t stand listening to the gossip, especially since Ravyn was the subject matter. However, if the worst they could say about her was that she worked too hard, she wouldn’t be their topic of discussion for very long.

  Strolling down the empty hallway, he considered any one of a hundred things he could do to occupy himself, but his thoughts always came back around to Ravyn. He wished he could give her a little moral support, but he was trying to give her some space. Besides, Liz would straighten her out. Then once he finished his residency he wouldn’t be around to antagonize her with his mere presence.

  The thought saddened Mark. He had hoped that by now Ravyn would have changed her mind and the two of them could at least be friends.

  Talk about stubborn.

  He paused by the glass doors that led out to the smoking deck. The rain poured down and lightning flashed in the distance. He recalled Ravyn mentioning her desire to do research at University of Wisconsin Hospital in Madison. She had lofty aspirations and they were every bit as important as his. She was all about her career. He was all about serving God overseas. Mark shook his head. They were hardly a match made in heaven.

  Why, then, couldn’t he just forget about her? Lord, is it that You don’t want me to forget about her?

  Over the last few weeks Mark had considered everything Ravyn had said when they’d had dinner together. Her remarks about medical school being wasted and him acting irresponsibly for gathering church support this summer were like scalpels slicing through to his soul. He began to wonder if she was right. After all, it was true that the health-care industry in the States would be far different when he returned from the mission field.

  Are You refining my plans, Lord, to suit Your will, or is Ravyn a distraction?

  The sound of rubber-soled athletic shoes squeaking against the polished floor signaled someone’s rapid advance. Another staff member, he figured, due to the early hour. He straightened just as the object of his thoughts rounded the corner of the hallway, heading straight for him. He almost chuckled at the irony.

  When Ravyn spotted him, her steps faltered. “Oh. . .hi.” She hiked the strap of her vinyl lunch bag higher onto her shoulder in what Mark guessed was a nervous gesture. “I got banished from the ER for a half hour.”

  “Well, you don’t want to sit on the smoking deck and eat your lunch. It’s storming.”

  Ravyn swung her gaze to the window beside the doorway. Raindrops streamed down the glass pane. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  Awkwardness hung between them like a thick velvet drape.

  Mark turned to stare outside again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ravyn pass behind him. He fought to hold his silence.

  But he didn’t win.

  “Hey, wait.”

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  “Can you spare a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” Ravyn pivoted to face him.

  Mark stepped forward. “This isn’t work related.”

  A little frown marred her dark brows. “Okay.”

  “Maybe it’s sheer pride, I don’t know. I haven’t quite figured it out. All I know is I’m not handling getting dumped very well, not that it hasn’t happened before. It has, but—”

  “I didn’t ‘dump’ you, Mark. I merely. . .” She paused as if searching for the right words. “I just don’t think anything between us is meant to be.”

  “Really? Then how come we’re both miserable?”

  Ravyn blinked and Mark realized the question erupted from some hidden place inside his being, surprising them both.

  He sighed and figured it was too late to turn back now. He might as well bare the rest of his heart. “You never gave ‘anything between us’ a chance.”

  A look of remorse spilled over her features. Her matter-of-fact façade seemed to melt away before Mark’s eyes.

  “Listen, Ravyn, I’m not sure what God’s will is for us, but why don’t we take things one step at a time?” He pushed out a smile for her benefit.

  She stood there looking like she might go into shock at any moment.

  Mark decided a bit of levity wouldn’t hurt. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he steered her toward the cafeteria. “But first things first: If you want someone to help you eat your lunch, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  Thirteen

  A moment of weakness. Mark had caught her in a moment of weakness. And now as she watched him devour her egg salad sandwich, Ravyn felt both amused and irritated. How could he have so easily finagled his way back into her life when she had fought so hard to shut him out?

  Ravyn sipped her diet cola and decided she could, at least, act friendly. Friendly but distant. What would that hurt? Mark would soon be gone.

  The thought nearly made her choke.

  “I haven’t had egg salad in years.”

  She felt oddly pleased that he enjoyed it. She’d whipped it up early this afternoon.

  “So what’s new with you?” he asked. “We haven’t talked in about three weeks.”

  Ravyn chose not to remind him that it was on purpose they hadn’t talked, other than business, of course.

  “Not too much.” As she regarded him, Ravyn decided Mark reminded her of her dad in many ways. They both were hardworking and strong-minded, possessed a good sense of humor, and had a cavalier outlook on life.

  The latter trait, unfortunately, was a source of all kinds of problems, and Ravyn knew that to be true firsthand.

  “You’ve been working a lot of shifts, huh?”

  “Yes, but I did manage to find some time to play Sherlock Holmes.”

  “Oh?” Mark arched a brow, looking interested.

  “I tracked down Shelley. I found out she’s living in Chicago. She’s got a talent agent and everything. She must be a successful actress.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yep. She goes by the name of Jeanne Shelley now. Those are her first and middle names reversed. Anyway, her agent said he’d get in touch with her and have her call me. That was two days ago.” Ravyn peeled open the foil top of a yogurt carton while Mark snooped through the rest of her thermal lunch bag. He found her bag of potato chips.

  “Mind if I eat these?”

  “Go ahead. I eat enough junk in the ER. Somebody always has food to share.”

  “I think it’s that way on just about every floor.” Mark tore open the bag. “But I have yet to find fruit and vegetables getting passed among the staff.”

  “That’s because fruits and veggies are healthy.” Ravyn laughed. “True comfort food is high calories, fat, and sugar.”

  “Thanks for the clarification.” Mark grinned and tossed a few chips into his mouth. “So. . .back to Shelley. Do you think she’ll call you?”

  “No clue.” Ravyn took a bite of yogurt and marveled at the peace she felt inside. “I’ve prayed about it and I’m leaving the matter up to God. I made the attempt and that’s all I can do.”

  “You’re a wise woman.”

  “It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”

  Mark winced at her poorly feigned British accent.

  “Sorry. Guess I’ll leave the acting to Shelley.”

  He nodded, grinning all the while. “Good thinking.”

  Ravyn laughed. “And speaking of acting, my dad held auditions last week. His production of Soul’s Agony will run from late August to Labor Day.”

  “Wish I had some time. I’d participate. Sounds like fun.”

  “My dad wrote the script himself, which is a first, and according to my mother, it’s brilliant.”

  “Your parents are incredible people.”

  “I agree. They are.” Ravyn finished her yogurt, then reached into her lunch bag and retrieved a sandwich bag filled with store-bought chocolate cookies.

  Mark began helping himself. “It takes time and dedication to write and direct a play—might even be more work than being a doctor or nurse.”

  “I know where you’re heading and you can st
op right there.” Ravyn took a bite of one of the sugary rounds. “I know my folks work hard. I never said they didn’t. I just believe that there are times when God expects Christians to make use of what He’s given us—like an able body and an intelligent mind—to earn a decent living.”

  “So where does that leave missionaries? Don’t you think they earn a decent living?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure some do—if they’re practical.”

  “Practicality has nothing to do with it. Let’s use Jesus as an example. He said birds had their nests, but the Son of Man didn’t even have a place to lay His head. Jesus didn’t have a job. He trusted God for everything, including His next meal.”

  “True. But He was also a carpenter before that, indicating He did, in fact, have a skill and hold down a job.”

  “I think that’s kind of a stretch, Ravyn.” Mark sounded a bit amused before turning serious once again. “Let’s never forget He gave up everything including His life to preach the gospel. His disciples gave up their livelihoods as fishermen to follow Him. Likewise we’re to do to the same.”

  “Yes, but on the other hand, we never read anywhere in the Bible that Luke gave up being a physician even though he wrote one of the Gospels.”

  Mark couldn’t seem to find a comeback. Either that, or he gave up the argument altogether and all too easily.

  Ravyn glanced at her wristwatch and realized a half hour had passed. She packed up her lunch bag. “Look, I don’t have a problem supporting missionaries,” she said at last, “as long as they’re willing to support themselves if need be.”

  They stood and made their way out of the coffee shop.

  “Kind of hard to find employment when you’re in a foreign country.”

  “I’m not referring to foreign countries. I was thinking of my parents when I said that. My dad went months without earning a dime when, instead, he could have found a job and might have been a witness to his coworkers.”

  Mark listened without reply and Ravyn felt a check in her heart. She knew she wasn’t much of a witness for Christ on the job. Was that what Mark thought, too?

  They walked partway down the hall in silence before Ravyn spoke again.

  “My dad used to say that if you work in the world, you get worldly. But, for myself, I don’t see a way around it.”

  “I think it’s all about one’s personal, individual, and divine calling.” Mark stuck his hands in the pockets of the long white coat that residents and MDs were required to wear over their scrubs. “Missionaries and Christians in full-time ministry highly respect those on the front line, working in the world.” He chuckled. “They’re the ones who support us.”

  “Good point.” Ravyn couldn’t find fault in that logic. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

  She paused outside the women’s locker room and held up her bag, indicating she wanted to stop and put it away.

  “Thanks for the sandwich.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mark gave her a charming smile. “Catch you later. I’ll try to call you this week. Maybe we can find some time to get together.”

  “Okay. That’d be nice.”

  Ravyn entered the locker room and realized what she’d just agreed to. She smacked her palm against her forehead. Oh, that man! He messes up my thinking!

  ❧

  Mark found his uncle sitting on a lawn chair in the backyard and walked outside to join him. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”

  “Pretty good.” Uncle Chet gazed at him and smiled.

  Mark pulled up a white plastic chair and sat down beside him.

  “I’m watching the weeds grow since your aunt won’t let me pull ’em.” Uncle Chet gave a disgruntled snort, but the wet stain covering the front of his striped T-shirt indicated that, indeed, he had been gardening.

  “You’re not supposed to be exerting yourself. Your heart is still on the mend. At least Aunt Edy is following the cardiologist’s orders.”

  “Bah!” Uncle Chet waved one hand at him. “I’m just fine. Besides, working in the garden is just as much work as walking—it’s less of a bore, too.”

  Mark shook his head in disappointment. “I hope you’re behaving. I’d like to have you around for a while.”

  “This subject is hereby closed—says me.”

  “Okay.” Mark knew better than to argue with his obstinate uncle.

  “So you’re off work for a while now, huh?”

  “Couple of days.”

  “Won’t be long now and you’ll be a full-fledged doctor.”

  “Yeah, and maybe then you’ll listen to me when I tell you to take it easy.”

  Uncle Chet shook his finger at him. “Knock it off.”

  “All right.”

  Mark chuckled and glanced around the vibrant green yard. A month or so ago his aunt had planted the vegetable garden that Uncle Chet had been tilling when he suffered his heart attack. Already leafy plants sprouted from the dark, rich soil.

  “So how’s your little blackbird these days?”

  “Ravyn?” Mark grinned at his uncle’s silly nickname for her. “Funny you should mention her. I’m planning to drop in and see her.”

  “Never drop in on a woman, Mark. That’s a dangerous thing to do.”

  He took a moment to consider his uncle’s advice and re-called the last time he’d dropped in on Ravyn. She had seemed embarrassed about her less than perfect appearance, but Mark thought she’d looked fine. So she wasn’t all dolled up. It had mattered little to him. On the other hand, if it was a big deal to her, then maybe he should call first.

  “You serious about this young woman?”

  Again, Mark digested the question. “Not sure yet,” he answered in all honesty. “I’ve been focused on finishing my residency. First things first, I guess.”

  “You’re not planning to be around this summer,” Uncle Chet pointed out. “That’s why I asked.”

  A wave of reality crashed over Mark. What was he thinking? He could hardly court Ravyn by cell phone—and that’s assuming she agreed to be courted. So far he’d cajoled his way into her life.

  He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the adjoining plastic chair. Remorse permeated his being. Who was he kidding? He had no right to drop in on Ravyn today.

  Fourteen

  Ravyn nibbled the inside of her lower lip as she waited for Mark to finish his conversation with another MD. Her conversation with Shelley weighed heavily on her mind, and with her parents in the throes of a new play and Teala absorbed in her romance, Ravyn decided Mark would make an efficient sounding board. He was, after all, the only other person who knew of the situation.

  “Mark, can I talk to you?” She hailed him as he turned and started down the hallway.

  He wheeled around at her question. “Ravyn.” He smiled and walked back toward her. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “I guess my scrubs sort of blend in with the wallpaper.” She grinned at her jest. “Do you have a little time?”

  He glanced at his watch. “A little. What’s up?”

  She sensed he was busy in spite of his willing reply. “It’s kind of involved. I can try to catch you at a better time.”

  He paused but then his features relaxed. “No, this is fine. The ER’s quiet. No guarantee it’ll stay that way.”

  Ravyn agreed and she lowered her voice in case another staff member happened to be close by.

  “I talked to Shelley. I had to call her agent back and this time he gave me her number.”

  “And?” Mark folded his arms.

  “Well, I think she might be in some sort of trouble. She sounded. . .” Ravyn searched for the right word. “I don’t know—desperate. In a hurry. Like she didn’t want to be overheard and there was a lot of noise in the background. She repeated her address about three times and practically begged me to visit as soon as I could. We had no time for chitchat. She said she had to go and hung up. That was it.”

  “Ravyn, if you’re a
sking for my advice, I’d say stay out of it. If Shelley is in Chicago and in trouble, then it’s probably way over your head to help her. Big city. Big trouble.”

  He spoke Ravyn’s exact thoughts, but the niggling inside wouldn’t abate. “I sort of feel like I should go.”

  “Then don’t go alone.” Mark checked his watch again. “Listen, I have to fly. Talk to you later.”

  He dashed off, leaving Ravyn to wonder at his aloofness. She realized they were at work and it wasn’t the time or place to convey emotional sentiments, but that had never hindered Mark in the past. Besides, his response seemed rather harsh for a prospective missionary.

  With her thoughts in a whir, she returned to the emergency room’s arena area. She picked up her work right where she’d left off. In the early morning hours of the night shift, it was typically quiet, except on weekends when the bars emptied out. Ravyn much preferred a steady twelve hours to sitting around doing mindless paper shuffling.

  Several feet away, a few nurses, the staff physician, and a security guard gabbed to pass the time. They talked shop and Ravyn’s interest was piqued by a particular case they discussed.

  Liz met her gaze. “Hey, don’t just stand there and eavesdrop, pull up a chair and join us.”

  Ravyn smiled. By now she’d grown accustomed to Liz’s boisterous antics. In fact, the day Liz called in sick, the ER didn’t seem the same without her.

  Unable to resist the invitation, Ravyn stepped around the parameters of the nurses’ station and began conversing with her coworkers.

  About an hour later, a patient with abdominal pain admitted herself to the ER. The chat group disbanded. At a physician’s request, Ravyn hurried down the inner corridor in search of a piece of equipment. She passed unused exam rooms and a tiny break area where a coffeepot was kept along with a refrigerator and microwave oven. As she glanced in that direction, Ravyn did a double take and slowed her pace. She saw Mark and Carla sitting at the small round table, having, what appeared to Ravyn, an intimate conversation. Mark was leaning toward Carla, talking in such a hushed tone that Ravyn couldn’t hear what was being said. Carla looked mesmerized.