“No, but the therapy pool is wonderful for kids born with physical problems like cerebral palsy. Do you know how many kids break bones, or get shot and don’t have access to decent physical rehab? They lose range of motion, have nerve damage…” I leaned over to help him find all the pieces of glass. “If the hospital approves my clinic’s application, the kids under my care can go there for free…for free, Tom.”
“And this guy is putting your application in jeopardy?”
“I think so…I hope not. I don’t know.”
“You won’t call the cops because of your, uh, clientele?”
“My patients are street people, Tom. They don’t trust the cops. If I get them involved, I might as well close my doors.”
“You really need to rethink telling the cops, Ruby. This guy doesn’t sound like he’s messing around.”
“I thought I just did.”
“I’m with the DEA, not the local cops.”
“Yeah, well…” I flopped my arms at my sides. “I didn’t know that.”
Tom stopped picking up glass and cocked his head to the side. “How long have you been here?”
“A few years. We’re attached to the hospital as a continuing care clinic, and Haven Home, the women’s shelter.”
“A doctor, huh? You always were wicked-smart, Ruby.” Tom looked at me with intensity and shook his head slowly.
I gathered up the last shards of glass and frowned, knowing I couldn’t afford a new coffee pot.
“Yeah, somehow it didn’t keep me out of trouble when you were around,” I said and stood.
Tom chuckled, took the pieces of glass from my hands, and tossed them in the trash. When he turned to face me, his gaze grazed my palm. “What happened to your hand?”
“Just a cut.” I self-consciously hid the hand behind my back.
Tom started to say something but fatigue flashed across his face.
“Hey, are you OK?” I motioned for him to sit down.
“Yeah, I’m OK.”
“Did you sign out against doctor’s orders?” I asked. I put my hand to his face, and then his forehead feeling for fever.
“Not exactly,” he said.
“You just had surgery, Tom. You should be in bed.”
“My boss talked the docs into signing me out.” Tom patted his side.
“I stopped by the hospital earlier. Your boss seemed mad.”
“It’s complicated, Ruby. I don’t know what you heard, but…I know what I’m doing.”
“That sounds familiar.” I looked at him.
Tom’s face softened. He stood, took my hand in both of his, and pulled me closer. When he ran a finger down the bridge of my nose, I couldn’t look away. I never could.
“Just, trust me on this one, OK? These guys, the ones I’m investigating, they weren’t the ones who shot me. That was…another matter.”
“Oh, well, never mind then,” I grouched. “As long as it’s an entirely different set of people who want to kill you.”
“It’s not as bad as you make it sound.”
“OK, Tom.”
Cavalier, a risk-taker, charming…Tom hadn’t changed since I last knew him. Arguing with him never did any good.
“Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you.” He smiled, a gorgeous dimpled grin, and squeezed my hand with his. “I’m sorry I missed your visit.”
“I had to check in with my boss anyway.” Stomach fluttering, I turned away to hide the blush rising up my face.
“Well, thank you nonetheless.” Tom gave a lazy grin.
Irritated with his effect on me, I pulled away and stalked to the sink to wash my hands. So what if I’d shown up. I’d promised, after all. He didn’t have to look so pleased. I rooted around in a cabinet, pulled out a juice box, and stabbed at it with the tiny straw. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t wait around for you to finish your “secret” meeting.” I turned to face him and made air quotes in the air with my free hand. I hated the way I sounded. I hated the anger and hurt I heard in my own voice.
“Are you going to avoid what’s really bugging you by picking a fight?”
I didn’t know what to say. How do you ask someone why they disappeared? Say, Tom, remember ten years ago, when you went to the hospital and never came back…ever? I didn’t think so.
“Ruby?” Tom asked quietly, his gaze trying to catch mine. “Tell me you hate me, or tell me you’re still angry. Tell me something.”
“Don’t, Tom. That’s all in the past. Everything is OK, now.”
Tom walked over to me, his face pained.
I didn’t move. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice a squeak. Wanting and dreading his closeness, I could barely breathe.
He didn’t answer. Instead he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist and looked down into my face. It was so familiar, yet such a distant memory, he caught me off guard. His breath brushed my temple when he leaned in.
“You don’t look OK,” he whispered.
Longing and anger and fear all bubbled up, making it hard to breathe or even think. Heart racing, I pulled away and stepped back to look at him. I shook my head slowly and pointed my finger at his chest. Being this close to him, feeling my brain turn to tapioca when he looked at me, these were all warning signs I’d missed when I was younger. Tom was a dangerous thing for me. I lost my head around him. I couldn’t do that now; not with so much riding on keeping it together.
“Don’t do that,” I said my voice trembling. “Don’t get so close and don’t act like you know whether I’m OK, or not. You don’t know what my life is like, not anymore.”
Tom regarded me quietly, and then shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped back. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I didn’t mean to upset you. I only meant to come and thank you for saving my life. Like I said, that’s twice now.” Frustration pulled his features, but concern lined his eyes.
I fought back the sobs squeezing my throat and squared my shoulders. Forcing myself to look him in the eyes, I tried to control my voice. “Tom, I’m glad you’re OK. It was really nice of you to check on me, but I have a lot of work to get done.”
“I can’t fix what happened, Ruby. I want to; I just don’t know how if you won’t talk—”
“I know that. I’m not even talking about that,” I interrupted. “I’m telling you that I have a lot of work to do, and I need to go and do it, that’s all.” My voice, louder than I’d planned, was wounded. It sounded like I was talking about what had happened all those years ago. I shook my head frustrated. I couldn’t do this now. Between the memory of Antonio’s attack and my exhaustion, I was red-lining just standing here. Before I said anything more, though, Tom put his hands up in surrender.
“It’s OK, Ruby, I’m leaving.” He turned for the door.
“Tom…”
He turned to face me and the sadness there made my heart ache. Why did we always do this to each other?
“I’ll see you later, OK?” He asked.
“Later?” I didn’t understand. How long was he staying in the city?
“Yeah, I’m going to be in the neighborhood for a while.”
He slipped out the door before I had a chance to respond.
6
The next day sped by with work and the clinic. I tried to push my conversation with Tom out of my head, but I couldn’t. The feel of his arms around me kept flashing back into a heartache I thought was gone with time. Angry at myself for worrying, I decided that if Tom chose to get wrapped up in something crazy again, I couldn’t stop him. I hadn’t been able to then, and I certainly had no business trying now. Then the memory of those thugs in his hospital room, his blood on my hands, and the worry flooded back.
By the end of the day, a shipment from the supply company hadn't arrived, and I got lost in the bureaucratic craziness of putting a trace through the shipping company. At closing time, I stood by the door waiting for Lilah to show up so I could go to work at the hospital. The position as my assistant served as her second job so she usually worked nights,
restocking and doing paperwork. I wondered where she was. I paced the floor and looked at my watch for the fifth time in five minutes. She was never late.
Her white minivan pulled to a skidding stop in front of the clinic, and Lilah hopped out. Breathless, with puffy, red eyes, she stammered her apologies, and pushed past me to the office.
“Are you OK, Lilah?”
“Yeah, Ruby, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she murmured, and shoved her purse under the desk. Wiping her face with a sleeve, she slumped in the chair.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I stopped pulling on my jacket, concerned.
“No, you go on, Ruby. You’re going to be late.” Lilah sniffed and turned to face me, her eyes brimming.
“Spill it, Lilah.” I leaned against the desk.
“I don’t want to tell you.”
I didn’t expect that. “Why not?” I asked, insulted.
“Because you always think the worst, and I have to believe…” Her voice trailed off and she buried her face in her hands.
“Lilah, what is the matter?” I asked with growing apprehension. “Is it Brooklyn? Is Dakota’s father bothering you again?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Ruby. Just go.” She wouldn’t look up.
“Lilah,” I tried again. “I promise I won’t be a doom-and-gloomer.” Perplexed, I watched her for a few seconds. Lilah usually told me whatever was bothering her. We were good that way.
“In the morning, OK?” She lifted her gaze to mine, guarded. “It’s my day off from the hospital, and I need to finish up some calls, anyway. Besides, I need time to think.”
“OK. I’m here if you need me.” I nodded, trying not to let the hurt show in my face.
“I know, Ruby. We’ll talk later.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Lilah—”
The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up with a relived expression. “Second Street Clinic,” she answered, and turned in her chair.
Clearly, our conversation was over.
I almost waited for her to finish the call and then thought better of it. I decided to give her some time and call later. Checking my watch, I bit my lip. I was late now. I patted her on the shoulder and slipped out the front door.
I headed to the hospital willing my car to get there on the fumes left in the gas tank. The needle wasn’t quite on red yet. I changed in the locker room and stepped out onto the ER floor. Blaine motioned me over to the reception area. Concern lined his face.
I steeled myself, thinking he was going to say something about tardiness.
“I heard you had an unwelcome visitor at the clinic,” he said.
“It’s not a big deal, Blaine, just a local guy.” My stomach churned and I blew out a slow breath. I hadn’t expected him to find out about Antonio so soon.
“You know that I’m lobbying for the clinic to get approved for the Sports Wing affiliation, Ruby, but I’m only one guy. I’m not sure I can convince the rest of the Oversight Board to vote my way if this guy keeps causing problems.” Blaine looked apologetic. “I know how you feel about involving the police, but…”
“No, Blaine,” I interrupted. “That will drive away all the kids I’m trying to help. I’ll take care of it. He won’t be a problem.”
“You’ll ask for help if you need it?” Blaine looked at me, worried.
“I’ve got it under control,” I promised.
“OK.” Nodding over at a curtained exam area, he winked. “I have a prize for the tardiest resident.”
I rolled my eyes when he turned away. He noticed after all.
“Come with me,” he called over his shoulder.
I followed him over to the curtained bed. Blaine put his hand up to pull it back, but paused to give me his ‘evil genius’ grin. The kind he wore when he handed off difficult patients.
“Dr. McKinney, this is your new patient, Carl Andrew. He’s refusing treatment.”
I looked at the man on the gurney. Clean cut, with an expensive suit jacket lying across his legs, he sat with arms crossed over his chest.
“Mr. Andrew, I’m Dr. McKinney, what brings you in to see us today?” I tried my best sympathetic smile.
Carl Andrew frowned at Blaine, who turned on his heels and slid through the curtain with a whoosh.
“My wife thinks I’m having a heart attack.” He checked his watch. “She’s on her way here, actually, and I’d like to be done before that happens.”
I nodded and looked at his chart. Blaine already ordered all of the relevant blood tests. “Well, we’ll just get some blood work done and go from there. Are you feeling any pain?”
“Yeah, I have pain. I have a monster headache and a sore back from basketball yesterday. Other than that, I just have the pain in my rear from being here for two hours.”
I made a mental note to make sure Blaine got the next food poisoned kid, and then unwrapped the stethoscope from around my neck. “Let me have a listen here.”
Carl put his hands up stopping me. “That older guy already did that. Look, I’m not refusing treatment. I’m just refusing all the unnecessary and expensive lab work you guys do to make more money. What you need to do is hook me up to one of those electro-do-hickey machines and rule out a heart attack right now. I’ve got a lunch meeting in an hour.”
I stepped back, gave Carl a stern look, and sighed.
“Carl, if you want to have this heart attack at the restaurant and nose-dive into your lobster bisque in front of your boss, then be my guest. There are plenty of other crabby people here who will at least let me help them.”
“What did you just say?” Carl’s eyes bulged in his head.
“Seriously, Carl, you’ve been having chest pains, haven’t you?” I crossed my arms and spoke softly.
“I never said that.” Carl’s eyes narrowed and he rubbed his shoulder unconsciously. That probably meant his pain radiated out from his chest.
“No, but you’re obviously a very busy and stressed-out guy. I doubt anyone could talk you into coming into the ER unless you were already scared. Now, are you going to cooperate or should I get the ‘We’re not responsible that he died’ paperwork for you to sign?”
Carl stared at me with his mouth open. “I want another doctor,” he demanded.
I shook my head. “You already alienated or annoyed anyone else that was here before me. My boss, Blaine, only gives me the patients that no one else wants.”
Carl looked at me strangely, and then unbuttoned his shirt. “You have a terrible bedside manner.”
I listened to his rhythm, jotted down an order for an echocardiogram, and smiled sweetly. “You get what you put into it, Carl.”
He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You’re a piece of work, Dr. McKinney.”
A lab tech pulled back the privacy curtain and stepped next to Carl’s bed.
“Are you going to let this poor man do his job, Carl?” I asked.
Ned, a lab tech in our hospital for years, smiled at Carl winningly.
Carl sighed and rolled up his sleeve.
“Thank you, Carl. I promise to only order a few unnecessary tests. I do have to pay for my beach mansion though, so there’s that.” I smiled at him, even as he eyed me with a mixture of humor and suspicion. I nodded to them both and headed back to the reception area.
“Can I at least get a sandwich?” Carl called after me.
I spent the next hour checking in on the med students and listening to them present before signing off on their treatment plans. Part of my job in the ER was to help with the incoming interns as well, but they were currently flocked around Blaine on the other side of the floor. I walked over.
Blaine turned and nodded to me with a grin. His gray buzz cut rose when he bobbed his eyebrows at me. “How’s Carl?”
I squinted at him with a mock frown.
“I’m getting you back for that.” I looked over a female intern’s shoulder at the patient on the gurney. “Whatcha got?”
“This guy says he’s all
ergic to electromagnetic impulses. He wants us to write a note to his boss explaining that he can’t be near anything that is electronic.”
There was no such thing as an allergy to electricity. I looked at the patient with interest. “What do you do for a living?”
“I manage the arcade on Downing Street,” he responded.
“That could be a problem,” the female intern interjected.
“You going to run the test?” I fixed Blaine with a piercing gaze.
The patient, a young man who smelled like he hung out with Dakota, sat up on the gurney alarmed. “What test?”
Blaine stared at me and sighed. “Yes, what test, Dr. McKinney?” A slight smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
I shrugged and gave Blaine a blank stare. I didn’t feel the least bit guilty getting him back for passing Carl off to me. This patient’s type of paranoia faded as the drugs moved out of the system. There was nothing to do but give him apple juice and wait it out.
“I heard there was a test, but if you don’t want to tell him about it…” I shrugged again.
The patient looked at Blaine accusingly. “Why won’t you tell me?”
Blaine rolled his eyes at me, and then Renee called my name. She motioned over by Carl’s curtain. I flashed a triumphant smile at Blaine before heading over.
The head nurse, with over two decades of experience, Renee kept the ER running no matter what came through the front doors. She looked like a militant Mrs. Santa Claus, with gray hair stacked on her head like a frothy helmet and half-moon spectacles that always slid off of her nose. She blew out a low whistle and handed me the results of the lab tests I’d ordered for Carl.
“Not what you want to see,” she whispered.
“Aw, really?”
She nodded.
I read it, sighed, and pulled open the curtain to face Carl. “Looks like your wife was right, Carl.”
He looked at me startled. “Oh, man.”
“Carl, you’re having what we call ‘a cardiac event.’”
“What in the world does that mean?”
“It means you’re heading up to the Cath-Lab right away.”
Carl’s face registered shock, then fear. He reached for my hand. “I thought…”
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