Conflicts of the Heart
Julie Michele Gettys
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © by Julie Michele Gettys
“Gettys serves up a unique tale of a mother’s love that never falters and her unending struggle of overcoming modern-day obstacles.” –Jaime Geraldi-Romantic Times Reviews.
This book is dedicated to my loving husband Bill.
Acknowledgements
This book would not have been published without the help from my agent, Dawn Dowdle, or the people who read for me, critiqued, and kept me writing. My thanks to Shirley Kennedy, Elnora King, Elisabeth Macdonald. When we ran into title problems, my friend Jona Caldwell rescued me and came up with the title. A special thank you to the wonderful mother and her autistic son who inspired me to write this book.
Cover by
Fantasia Frog Designs
One
“If you think you can have a career and raise a five-year old autistic kid by yourself, you’re nuts. I’m going to enjoy watching you fail.”
Dana Claiborne shrugged off Joel’s parting words. She hurried across the parking tarmac, weaving between parked cars to the main entrance of Templeton Hospital. Her decision to move back to Ashton, her hometown, made perfect sense to her now. She’d always loved the Central Valley. No more chilly bay area days. No more meddling ex-husband; just freedom, a new job, a perfect place to raise her son, and lots of warm sunshine for seven months of the year.
She gazed up at the imposing building. Starting over sent a rush of fear through her. In Palo Alto, she had some semblance of security, at least until this past year when her world fell apart, and she had to make a decision she now prayed she would not regret. Stop it! She shook herself free of negative thoughts and strode up the steps. Today she came in to get a feel for the place before officially starting her job tomorrow. Her neighbor, a friendly woman she barely knew, surprisingly agreed to watch her son, Michael, for the morning. Her baby. The lost look in his eyes as she released his hand gave her the impetus to make this work. He was her reason for being here. She had to succeed for him and, the more she thought about it, for herself as well.
Automatic doors whispered shut behind her as she stepped into the cool, spacious lobby. Visitors bearing gifts and flowers strolled toward the bank of elevators and various corridors. Soft music poured from the sound system, along with the muted paging of doctors and nurses.
She made her way down a corridor of the first floor, like any visitor coming in to see a relative or friend. A group of nurses passed, a few exchanged opinions on a movie they’d seen, others commented on negotiations and a meeting. Curiosity drew her to the auditorium where the nurses were headed to meet with the union representative.
“You want to catch the man in action?” Gil Hargrove had called that morning. “I understand he's in the hospital today.”
Dana interpreted Gil’s words as a call to action. After all, her new job as Human Resources Director made her the chief negotiator for Templeton Medical Center. Her instructions were to bring in an acceptable contract with the nurses. Borland Hospital in San Jose had been her training ground for five years. Her reputation as a negotiator equaled that of Patrick Mitchell’s, the union representative she hoped to see in action today.
The large lecture hall resembled a movie theater more than a hospital auditorium. On stage, she saw a blackboard with a union meeting notice. For a Sunday, the large crowd, maybe two hundred people, surprised her. At Borland, few showed up on a day off for meetings unless the issues were heavy and they expected long, grueling negotiations to follow. Gil had warned her.
Over the loudspeaker, a female voice announced, “Here's Patrick Mitchell.”
A tall man in his mid-thirties with medium-blond hair ambled out and sat on the apron of the stage. He wore a short-sleeved shirt open at the collar and khaki slacks. Microphone in hand, he scanned the large crowd, grinning as if reassuring the audience of their camaraderie.
The nurses went wild, cheering and screaming as if he was a rock star. Dana had never seen anything like it. This could make her job very difficult. Gil had warned her to come over and check this guy out. With so many loose ends to tie up in Palo Alto before her move, a visit seemed pointless. Patrick Mitchell couldn’t be much different from any other rep in the business. She could tell by his striking appearance and the response from his followers that she might pay dearly for that error.
He signaled for silence. Several whistles from approving females in the audience broke the hush that had fallen over the auditorium. Of all the rotten luck. Nobody told her that she was up against a man everyone adored.
She stood at the back of the auditorium next to the last row of seats. At her right, a young student nurse murmured to an older woman, “I'd join the union just to be around him.”
The older nurse chuckled. “He can park his shoes under my bed anytime.”
Mitchell called the meeting to order. “This will be our toughest year. Are you with me, no matter what it takes?” The audience cheered and stomped their feet. “All the way?” His fist raised in the air. Another cheer.
With him as her adversary, this job presented her with a huge challenge. If Dana learned anything from her marriage it was to never walk away from a challenge. If she got anything out of her marriage, she learned to stand up and fight for her beliefs. Unless invited, management wasn’t allowed. She slipped out of the auditorium, finishing her tour an hour later on the fifth floor. Patrick Mitchell stood at the nurses’ station passing out Professional Nurses Association leaflets. The nerve of this guy. He blatantly broke the rules, soliciting on-duty staff. The young clerk behind the counter smiled as if she couldn’t do enough for the man. Her ire rose to new heights. Now she understood why Gil wanted her to take this job. The fear she experienced earlier melted away like wax running down the side of a candle.
Dana wanted to stroll up to introduce herself and watch him wiggle his way out. Too bad that he persisted in breaking the rules. She found establishing boundaries the hardest part of starting a new job, and this man wasn’t going to make it easy. She sucked in a deep, nervous breath preparing to introduce herself when the clerk handed him the phone.
Dana watched his smile broaden. Out of curiosity, she skimmed through the pamphlets he’d been passing out. These promises he was making to the nurses were good. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to keep them. No wonder negotiations had stalled.
“Hi, honey.” The warmth in his voice didn’t match the bravado he used on stage earlier. “Daddy misses his little girl.” He paused. “I know, baby. I want you to come to California too.” Dana felt a pang of guilt for listening.
“Put your mommy on the phone, honey.” A moment later, his tone rose. “Listen, Elaine. I’m doing everything I can to settle this contract. I’ve broken enough rules in this place to get my butt canned. All I want is Lisa here with me this summer.” He paused, listening. “I don’t care what the judge ordered--” He stopped, glanced around, gazing directly into Dana’s eyes. “I’ll call you tonight. Tell Lisa, I’ll talk to her then.” He handed the phone back to the clerk.
He must be divorced, and his ex-wife had custody of their daughter. What a screwed up world. She sensed his all too familiar stress. At least she had Michael. Every time she thought of him, her heart swelled. Patrick’s constant breaking the contract rules now made a little more sense. Nevertheless, she had a job to do, and that was to enforce their agreement.
A moment la
ter, seeming more composed, he stood beside her. She glanced up into his cool green eyes. “May I have one of these?” She held up the leaflet he had no business distributing at the nursing stations.
“Are you an employee?”
His ingratiating smile tickled her. He treated her like one of his nurses. He probably fully expected her to have a pen in hand ready to sign up on the spot.
“I’ll be tomorrow. I’m--” Before she could introduce herself, a nurse flagged him to her side.
“Keep the flyer. How will I find you?” He walked away.
“I’ll find you,” she called out after him. No doubt, she would. He was her job. Now she realized she actually had to walk a thin line to come to an agreement. Controlling her feelings for his position with his child might play a part in their day-to-day dealings.
The next morning at her kitchen table, pouring coffee, Dana thought about her fitful night worrying about her new job, and all the trouble Michael had given her this morning. He splashed the bathroom full of water during his bath and refused to dry himself. Then it took her fifteen minutes to settle him down in front of his TV so she could have a few minutes to herself. He understood a change was in the air, and he didn’t like it. Poor little guy. He had a trying day ahead, as did she, but she had the ability to cope with hers.
She sipped her coffee and leafed through the newspaper, trying to calm herself before taking Michael to his new daycare center, and then begin her first day on the job. Back in Palo Alto, she had a woman stay with Michael during the day. He related to her on some level, giving Dana the space to pursue her career. In Ashton, he was going to a day care center for the first time. Dear God let this work out.
On the business page, she spotted two significant stories that meant double trouble: the struggling economy and shock of shocks, a picture of Patrick Mitchell holding a rally in the parking lot of Templeton. He wanted to win. The telephone call he received yesterday from his daughter had given her some insight for all the trouble he’d been causing in the hospital. She understood about breaking rules to survive when you wanted to help someone you loved. If she succeeded, she had a decent future.
When he discovered her position, he’d certainly think she came in to spy on him yesterday. Well, she had. That’s why Gil called and told her to go in and catch him in the act. In addition, Patrick never gave her the opportunity to introduce herself properly. Then again, she should have stepped up and told him who she was. Now she must pay the price for letting him assume she was a nurse.
She shook thoughts of him from her mind. The boxes stacked from one end of her apartment to the other drew her attention. What a mess. She had enough stuff to fill two apartments. This place left a lot to be desired, and came with all the usual problems of an older building, small rooms with thin walls. She couldn’t afford anything better right now. Her second order of business after she settled the contract and she got on her feet: find a new place in a better neighborhood. She sipped her coffee and glanced out the window, down at the swimming pool in the center of her apartment complex. The crystal blue water rippled in the early morning breeze, so peaceful and serene, opposite to the jumbled feelings roiling around in her. She hesitated in calling friends to come visit. Though her circumstances were not her fault, she did still have some pride.
The clock struck seven, time to get dressed and then help Michael get ready. She dressed in a flash. Soon she tucked Michael’s shirt into his shorts. She loved her beautiful boy with his thick hair as dark as his deep-set eyes. “We're going to a new place today, honey.”
With his head cocked, he cried out in fear. “Stay home?”
“We can't stay home for a while. You'll meet a new lady who's going to take care of you. As soon as mommy gets on her feet, we'll get someone to come here just like we did back home.”
“No!” He pulled away from her, turned, jamming his knuckles against his lips, and stared off into space, frightened.
She held her breath and counted to three before moving behind him and whispering in his ear in the most loving tone she could muster. “Do this for Mom. I need your help today.”
After a long silence, he tugged free, ran to the door and faced her with a stern look, his eyes never making direct contact with hers.
She went to him and grabbed his hand, blinking back a tear. They hurried from the apartment.
Michael sat next to her in the front seat, his head bowed, knowing something different was happening. They communicated on a level where he understood some of the changes they were going through. The doctors believed Michael’s autism was on the milder side because he had speech, and with enough love and understanding, they thought he might have a chance for a future. The counselors assured Dana each case was different, with the hope that some people improved enough to make a life for themselves. She prayed for Michael to be one of the lucky ones. If not, they were together forever. That part Joel, her ex-husband, never understood.
At the daycare center, the morning sun cast a copper glow over what must once have been a magnificent Victorian house. Surrounded by rolling foothills of golden wild oats, shaded by two giant oaks, the house now stood in sad need of repair.
She glanced at Michael, reached over and took his hand. He jerked free, pulled his tattered teddy bear to his chest. They got out of the car and walked side by side up the walkway. The yard had no grass, just a sprinkling of indestructible wild flowers in soil hardened by years of drought and the trouncing of children's feet.
Mrs. Morse, a plump woman in her late fifties with an infectious smile stepped out onto the front door. She wore a food-stained, white chef's apron over her jersey, floral print dress. Dyed, over-permed red hair framed her round cheeks. Dana almost broke out in tears when she saw the woman. The most difficult part of her move had been finding Ruta Morse. The lady at the Autistic Society knew Ruta and recommended her because she, too, had raised an autistic son.
Without hesitation, Mrs. Morse took Michael's hand. “Well, young man, you’re in for a happy day.”
Her tender tone had a profound effect. He released Dana's other hand and followed the woman into the house. Normally he took weeks to trust anyone. After what she’d just witnessed with Mrs. Morse, she felt more comfortable leaving him. Inside, following a few moments of instructions, she kissed him on the forehead. He glanced down at the floor, wiped a tear from his cheek, and then squeezed her hand, as if letting her know he would be okay. She left.
The warm breeze whipping in through the open car window lifted Dana's spirits. By the time she reached the hospital, she had managed to put the morning in perspective. She went straight to the administrative offices located on the ground floor to meet with Gil Hargrove. He had been her professor in business classes at Ashton State. He’d always encouraged her to seek a job in Human Resources. He’d said women were better at that job because they had the innate ability to relate and nurture the managers and employees. Her heart beat in double time before opening the door to his office.
The sword thin, gray-haired man greeted her with a hug, then ushered her into his designer office. Gil stepped back. “You look great. You're more radiant and beautiful than you were the day you graduated from college. I've always said until a woman reaches her thirties, she doesn't know who she is.” He spun her around. “You definitely know who you are.”
“Thanks. You haven’t changed. Still the flatterer.”
“I always said you were destined for big things.”
At the couch near the large bay window, he gestured for her to sit beside him.
“You're just what the doctor ordered. Mitchell's been driving us all nuts since Leon Benson left.” A fatherly grin spread across his face. “Excited?”
“I'm thrilled to be here. Everything about this place is perfect. When we were at the university, I always had an idea one day you'd give up teaching and run some big organization.” She glanced around at the polished teak wood. Sunbeams streaming in through the windows bounced off the glass-topped table
s. A slight scent of lemon polish lingered in the air.
“So what do you think of Patrick Mitchell?”
“You didn't exaggerate about him. You were right, I should have come over earlier and sized this guy up. I'll have my hands full with him.”
“He's tough. Mitchell gets what he wants.” His mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “We could be in serious trouble.” Then Gil smiled, and she once again remembered him as the caring teacher and mentor, not the stern businessman.
“If I know you, he'll be putty in your hands before long, and you'll bring in a contract we can live with.”
After yesterday’s brief meeting with Patrick, she wondered. Putty, huh? She sank back, folding her hands in her lap. “He doesn't mind breaking the rules, does he?”
“That's our boy, all puffed up, and he thinks he has the nurses in the palm of his hand.”
Dana laughed. “He does. I saw it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Remember your buddy, Teal DeLuca? She’s with a small-time clerical union, trying to get the nurses away from Patrick. He’s got orders to get this contract for the Professional Nurses Association, and soon.”
“Teal?” They’d been friends since high school. The Teal she remembered never wanted a career in labor relations. She used to accuse Dana of being a fool for wanting a job with so much stress. What on earth could have changed her mind? Could this be another problem she hadn’t counted on? Knowing Teal as she did, she would revel in Dana’s shamble of an apartment. Something about Teal’s attitude toward Dana made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Though they’d been friends for years, she decided to tread lightly on renewing this old friendship.
“You wouldn't know Teal.” It was as if he were reading her mind. “She won't be a problem. With you on our team, we'll have the association sweating by the time they bring in this contract. We're all counting on you.” He rubbed his palms together and chuckled. “Did you introduce yourself to Patrick?”
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