An Informal Introduction (Informal Romance Book 3)

by Heather Gray

  She sure was in a hurry to rid herself of them.

  Caleb shook his head. “No. I, uh, only wanted to make sure.”

  “Okay, then. I wish you both all the best, and Mrs. Graham?”

  “Hm?”

  “Be sure to keep this boy of yours in line.” Lily’s laughter floated back at them as she slipped out the door and slid it closed behind her.

  He sighed.

  Ma gave him her patented don’t-make-me-spell-it-out-for-you stare. “You have her number, you know.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she rolled her eyes. “You gave her a ticket. Surely you collected her contact information.”

  He wasn’t ever going to get any peace, was he?

  “Unless that’s against policy or something.” Ma folded her arms.

  Caleb closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “In which case you’ll simply have to pull her over again.”

  She had him there.

  Caleb listened attentively as the scary-looking nurse with the grey hair gave his mom instructions. He paid attention as Ma signed form after form. Everyone in the room had his undivided attention…

  “Mr. Graham!”

  Startled, Caleb jumped out of his chair. “What?”

  The charge nurse glared at him. “You fell asleep.”

  “Don’t pay him no never-mind.” His mom to the rescue. “He worked all night. He should be in bed sleeping now. Can we move this along?”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, the drill sergeant nurse winked at him before turning back to Ma.

  That wasn’t a wink… was it? Of course not. But if it was, what did it mean? Wink as in, I understand working nights. Or wink as in, Hey, sexy, give me a call.

  Caleb shuddered. He needed to avoid any and all confusing winks, and if that meant staying awake, then by golly, he would stay awake.

  Thirty minutes, a stack of paperwork, and three cups of coffee later, a technician was summoned to push the wheelchair down to the lobby. Caleb had apparently been judged wheelchair impaired — or it was hospital policy. One or the other. Either way, he ran ahead to retrieve his truck so he could meet his mom at the entrance.

  After she was settled on the front seat, Ma leaned her head against the headrest. “I don’t want to go through all this again.”

  “That’s a plan I can get on board with.”

  “Your dad always reminded me to check my blood sugar. I guess without his nagging, I forgot.”

  Caleb’s breath caught. He missed his dad and always would, but he couldn’t imagine the weight of loss and loneliness his mom had to be experiencing. They had been married so long they’d become one person.

  “I can nag if you want, Ma.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Lily suggested I put a chart on the fridge where I record my blood sugar each time I test it. One glance, and you’ll be able to see if I forgot. That way you only need to remind me once in a while instead of always being on my case about it.”

  He dipped his head in agreement. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  His mom chortled. “She swore it would save our relationship.”

  “How so?”

  “Lily figured if you constantly hounded me about my blood sugar, I’d be as liable to take you out with a frying pan as I would be to hug you. She’s right. It was one thing coming from your dad, but I’m not sure I’d take too kindly to your constant badgering.”

  He wasn’t sure he understood, but as long as his mom knew what she was talking about, he was fine with it. “Whatever you think will work. You gonna make the chart?”

  Her nod was visible from the corner of his eye as he maneuvered onto the main road and headed away from the hospital. “She gave me a website that specializes in making the charts. I can enter the information, and they put it together for me. What my sugar should be, what times of day I plan to check it, those sorts of things. Then I can print a new one out each month.”

  “You had quite a nurse.”

  His mom smiled knowingly. “She’s a believer, you know.”

  Heat climbed Caleb’s neck. “Stop trying to set me up, Ma.”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “No, you don’t. You just want a daughter-in-law and grandbabies.”

  “I’ve never made any secret about wanting those things. I want you to be happy, too, though. Can’t have you divorcing my daughter-in-law and ripping those grandbabies out of my arms because of some custody battle.” She swatted him on the shoulder in what was probably humor.

  “What do you want for dinner?” Distraction was a good tool in dicey situations.

  “Mexican food sounds good. What do you think?”

  Caleb zipped across the lanes of traffic and steered his truck into the drive-thru of a Mexican fast food restaurant.

  “This scarcely counts as Mexican, son.”

  “They serve tacos. What more do you want?”

  “This is fast food. That’s not the same thing and you know it.”

  He grinned at her. “Yeah, but I need to catch some shut-eye, so this is as good as it’s getting. Now, what do you want me to order for you?”

  She rolled her eyes as she rattled off a list of her favorite items.

  That evening, when Caleb arrived at the station, he paused briefly at one of the communal desks shared by the patrolling troopers. His fingers rested lightly on the keyboard as he thought about looking up Lily’s information. Then he shook his head and walked away.

  He was supposed to be off tonight and had come in for one reason only. The captain wanted to see him, and he couldn’t ignore her summons.

  Caleb tapped on the captain’s door and entered when she signaled for him to enter.

  “Cap’n,” he murmured with a nod.

  “Sit, Graham.”

  He settled his frame into the uncomfortable chair as he’d been instructed and waited.

  He’d received plenty of warnings about her. Captain Margaret Browning, one of the first female captains in the area. Whether or not she came by the position honestly was hotly debated in the locker room. No matter how she’d gotten into it, though, she’d demonstrated her capability and proven herself as shrewd as any of her male counterparts.

  Nonetheless, more than one trooper had warned him. She was a terror if you got on her bad side. Caleb accepted the directive as fortuitous. Even if she intended to read him the riot act about something, getting closer to her would serve him well.

  The captain sat back in her chair, steepled her fingers, and examined him.

  He returned the favor.

  Her hair was shoulder-length. It still boasted a few tenacious strands of brown but was mostly grey. She wore glasses, but he’d wondered more than once if they were for effect rather than need. The shiny silver frames held lenses tinted enough to mask her eyes. Without eye contact, it was hard to know what a person thought… and hard to trust them.

  “Any idea what caused that car to wreck on your last shift? The one you chased?”

  Caleb swallowed. “The road’s rough through that area. Either they hit a bad spot that sent them lurching, or they tried to avoid a rut and overcorrected. Those are my best guesses, but I’m not an accident tech. I can say with confidence, though, that had they been going the speed limit, they would have been better able to maintain control of the vehicle.”

  She nodded and thumbed through some papers on her desk.

  His report.

  “Do you understand the implications here?”

  He stared. “Joy-riding, car-thieving teenagers are dangerous?”

  Her mouth tightened into a severe line. “I’ve been trying to convince the transportation chief to resurface that stretch of road for two years. They keep patching it, but the patches don’t hold past the first snow of the season. The plows come through and rip everything up. Then they do a poor patch job and we end up with bumps and ruts all over the place.”

  Since when did captains care about the surface of a road?

&
nbsp; “Two troopers have been injured in chases on that road because of the potholes. That’s in the last year. The chief is a… well, the word I want to use isn’t very ladylike, so I’ll refrain. He has it in for me, and he won’t do a proper resurface of the road because I’m the one demanding it.”

  Caleb kept still and listened.

  “If a panel convened to discuss different transportation issues, would you be willing to testify that the shoddy road conditions caused this accident?”

  “Would I be stepping into the middle of a political mess?”

  The lines around her mouth tightened. “Possibly.”

  “You want me to swear under oath that a poorly-maintained road led to the accident and those five teens — in the midst of making a typical stupid teen mistake — could have all been killed.”

  “More or less.”

  “They stole a car. They were high on drugs. They proceeded to flee the scene after I pulled them over for speeding.”

  “I understand.”

  “But you want me to say potholes are to blame for what happened.” Caleb tapped out a staccato rhythm with his foot but managed to keep the tone of his voice even.

  The captain grimaced. “I’m not ordering you to whitewash what the kids did. Be honest. Just do me the favor of also being candid about how sideways this whole mess could have gone because the road’s in such bad shape. That’s all I’m asking. Fair treatment to both sides.”

  “That I can do. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

  The hint of a victory smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

  “Good. Thank you. You can go now.”

  Caleb’s hand was on the doorknob when she stalled him.

  “Be sure to wear your standard uniform — not dress — when the panel convenes. I’ll let you know the date with as much notice as I can.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Huh. Now he had more paperwork to fill out, but not for Captain Browning.

  Lily stood by as Mrs. Miller, the respiratory tech, resident, Dr. Matsui, and two male technicians crowded into Mr. Miller’s room. The doctor seemed to think they were better equipped than she to restrain the patient if it came to that.

  Fat chance! They didn’t realize how strong he was.

  The doctor gave the order, and Lily stopped the drip of medication responsible for keeping the patient sedated since he’d woken unexpectedly the day before. As discussed in the conference room, everyone hoped that seeing his wife would help keep Mr. Miller sufficiently calm, allowing them to explain the situation to him. The meds could take as long as twenty minutes to clear out of his system enough for him to wake, but given his state the previous day — and his instant reaction to being awake — she anticipated it happening much sooner. She didn’t peg this guy as the type to wake slowly or gently.

  Her eyes on the monitors, Lily kept one hand on her patient’s wrist. His pulse shook loose from its slumber and continued to increase in speed. Energy hummed through his body like an electric current. The heart rate monitor showed everyone else what she could feel, at least the facts and figures. No monitor could relay her hands-on impression, though.

  “I think he’s in a nightmare.”

  “Why do you say that?” Dr. Matsui spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to the monitor.

  “I saw something similar once with a patient whose adrenal gland was on overdrive.” Lily glanced at the doctor. “The second Mr. Miller’s pulse sped up, all his muscles tensed. When he comes to, he’s going to be fighting, like yesterday.” The IV in Mr. Miller’s arm started to back up. His muscles were so tightly clenched that the saline and antibiotics couldn’t penetrate the muscular blockade to get into his system. What’s more, blood began to seep up into the IV tubing.

  Dr. Matsui concurred. “That might help explain yesterday. If he’s having nightmares, he could be reliving the accident.”

  Mr. Miller’s muscled arm twitched beneath Lily’s fingers. She applied more pressure to try to hold the limb in place. They didn’t want him ripping out his IVs again. She inclined her head to Mrs. Miller, who stood across the bed.

  A gargled roar came from deep in the patient’s throat. He jolted upright in bed. Lily threw all her weight onto his arm and shoulder, trying to keep it stationary while his wife grabbed his face with both her hands and leaned in so close that she blocked everything else from his line of sight.

  “I’m here now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

  The second Mrs. Miller started talking, the tension began to ease from the patient’s arm.

  “I’m here, baby. You’re safe, and everything’s all right. I won’t go anywhere. I’m right here.”

  His pulse stuttered its way into a slower rhythm.

  “I love you, and I’m so happy to see you again. It’s going to be okay. I’m here with you.”

  He stopped fighting the ventilator, and his breathing calmed.

  Lily took over the conversation. “I’d like to let go of your arm, Mr. Miller, but I need you to keep still. Can you do that for me?”

  Eyes on his wife the entire time, he gave a brief nod.

  “You have an IV in this arm, and we don’t want it to pull out again. That’s why it’s so important for you to remain calm.” She eased her weight off. “We’ll answer all your questions, but I’m going to tell you about some of this equipment you’re hooked up to.”

  Mr. Miller nodded again, this time meeting her eyes.

  “Can I trade sides with you?” Mrs. Miller sounded more alive than she had since arriving at the hospital, and Lily was happy to accommodate her. Careful of the IV in his arm and the tubing that still fed the central line in his femoral vein, the flight attendant stood close to the bed and clasped her husband’s one remaining hand in both of her own.

  Dr. Matsui sent the technicians on their way and introduced himself to the patient before backing out of the way.

  Lily took her cue. “You have an endotracheal tube. You might also hear it called an ET tube. It can make you feel like you’re choking, but you’re not. You have my word on that. The ET tube is SOP for any patient under general anesthesia during surgery. It allows the anesthesiologist to control your oxygen levels to keep you as safe as possible. Policy here in ICU requires us to leave the tube in until we know you can breathe on your own and clear your own airway.” Lily opted not to tell Mr. Miller about the complications that could occur if they removed it prematurely.

  “We’ll get the tube out as soon as it’s safe to do so. That blue monster in the corner,” she indicated the noisy ventilator with a wave of her hand, “will tell us whether you’re breathing on your own or letting the machine do it for you. I know the tube is uncomfortable. There’s no way around that. Instinct is going to tell you to fight it, but I need you to do your best to resist that natural reaction. Fighting the tube won’t help you.”

  Lily went on to explain what the numbers on the monitor meant, what the central line and IV were, and which medications he was receiving. “You’re stronger than most patients in here, which means you’re strong enough to hurt yourself. So it’s important that you follow the rules. Don’t fight the ET tube. Don’t thrash about in bed. Don’t yank your arm with the IV.” Arm with the IV? He only had one arm, and she’d just gone and reminded him of that.

  He didn’t speak — he couldn’t with the tube down his throat — but Mr. Miller nodded his understanding. His eyes shone clear, the wild look from the day before and from a few moments before gone. Between the anesthesia he’d been under for surgery and the sedation since, he likely wouldn’t remember any part of this day. Still, it was good to see clarity in his eyes.

  Dr. Matsui stepped closer to the bed. It was time to address the patient’s injury, surgery, and prognosis.

  Exhaustion tugged her shoulders into a droop as Lily retrieved the lunch bag from her locker in preparation for going home.

  “Tired?” Maddie, one of the other nurses, search
ed her face.

  She stretched her neck muscles by rolling her head. “Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

  “You think the Millers will get through this?”

  “If I ever lose a limb, I hope somebody like Mrs. Miller is in my corner.”

  “You ever lose a limb, I’ll hire a cheerleader to stand in your room and keep you encouraged. Sound good?”

  Lily chuckled. “Deal.”

  The two departed the unit together and got in the elevator.

  “So how are things with you and Holden the Hottie?” Lily pressed the button for the lobby.

  Maddie snorted. “Please tell me people aren’t still calling him that?”

  “I can’t speak for other people.” Lily gave her friend a cheeky grin.

  Holden had been an ICU patient not that long ago. One of the newer nurses at the time mentioned what a hottie he was, and he’d been Holden the Hottie ever since.

  “Things are good. We’re taking it slow.”

  “That’s good… right?”

  This time Maddie shrugged. “It’s not always easy, but I guess it’s for the best.”

  “Nothing wrong with slow.” Lily was a look-before-you-leap person, so slow worked for her.

  “He’s spent his whole life getting to know God. It’s still kind of new to me.”

  “It’s not a competition.”

  The elevator dinged open, and the women began the trek through the lobby and toward the parking garage.

  “Yeah.” Maddie frowned. “It still makes me insecure sometimes.”

  “You’re one of the most secure people I’ve ever met.”

  Maddie waved Lily’s comment away. “He’s not giving up on me, and I’m not quitting on us. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re convinced about this going-slow thing.”

  “Some days I wish we were moving faster, but if I say anything, he cracks a joke about how he can only go so fast with a cane.”