by Rebecca Lang
'She's John's patient, isn't she?'
'Yes, although Bill and I operated on her initially,' she said. Because she and Bill were both residents-in-training, the patient was under the main care of a staff man, in this case, John Lane.
'I can give you an opinion if you want me to,' Joel offered, 'since I'm here and John isn't. When are the dressings going to be changed?'
'We're taking her to the OR this morning, to do it all under a general anaesthetic. We want to get extensive tissue biopsies,' Nell said, referring to biopsies that she would take from various parts of the patient's body to monitor infection. If infection was present, the microbiology lab would identify the particular strain of bacteria involved, then she could treat appropriately.
'Give me a shout when you're ready, if you want me to take a look,' Joel said. 'I'm taking one of my own cases to the OR this morning, too, for review of grafts.'
'Thanks.' She smiled. 'John should be here pretty soon.'
Joel gave her an odd look at the repeated use of John's name. 'Maybe one weekend soon, we'll get to take those dogs of yours for a walk again,' Joel said.
'Sure hope so,' she said. At work she felt somewhat stilted with Joel, as though their professional life and personal life had to be very separate. Perhaps it was just as well, as memories of their love-making crowded into her mind when she first set eyes on him at any time in the hospital, and were then quickly suppressed with an extreme effort.
Other doctors arrived at the nursing station, so Nell left to go about her business. First thing was to see Ida Rowley, who was in an isolation room in the unit.
Although a tracheostomy on the woman had been closed up and the endotracheal tube removed so that she was not on a ventilator and was breathing on her own, she still required intermittent oxygen to be administered through a mask. Suitably gowned and gloved, Nell went to stand beside the bed.
'Hello, Mrs. Rowley,' she said, 'It's Dr Montague again. We'll be taking you to the operating room soon, as I explained yesterday. How are you feeling this morning?'
Ida, drowsy from painkilling drugs, shook her head slightly and mouthed something. For the most part she lay with her eyes closed, sleeping or under the influence of drugs, during the many position changes that the nurses had to perform to prevent swelling of the tissues, congestion of the lungs and undue pressure on any part of the body from simply being in a bed. The bed could be tilted in all directions. Her limbs had been splinted to keep them in the optimal position, to minimize deformity from contracture and scarring.
While in the room, Nell checked the monitors recording the vital signs, as well as the intravenous fluid that the patient was getting.
As Nell was leaving, a physiotherapist came in and they exchanged a few words. 'I'm exercising the joints,' the other woman explained. 'It's slow going. But she's doing all right.'
They conversed quietly for a few minutes, Nell reminding the physiotherapist that their patient was due to go to the operating room again.
Nell sighed as she removed her gown in the anteroom, very conscious of how fortunate she was to be healthy, fit, young, to have a son, a loving family and a man that she loved...even if he did not love her. That he liked her would have to do. What she needed was a holiday. An uninterrupted weekend would do for now. She went out to see her other patients, and came across Bill and Sy in the corridor. They waved to her. 'See you in the OR,' she called, and they responded with thumbs-up signs.
During the operation for review of grafts, Joel found time to come in to take a look at them when the dressings were off, before John came into the room. 'These two look as though they should be removed and redone,' he said, pointing to two areas, relatively small, where the donor skin appeared not to have taken very well. 'That's what I would do.'
'Yes, I was thinking that,' she said. 'I'm going to take biopsies from those areas.'
John came in then, and Joel left.
'Morning, Joel.'
'Morning, John. Another day in the trenches.'
'You said it.'
At last the day was over and Nell found herself in the coffee-lounge with a few other lost souls who were recuperating from a heavy work day before finding the energy to either go home or to go on to other duties. The homely room, with its scuffed low tables, ideal for propping up one's tired feet, its fake leather chairs, its dog-eared newspapers and magazines, together with the kitchenette area, was like a home away from home for those who landed up there at the end of the day. Tea and coffee always tasted so much better there than anywhere else.
Nell sipped from a large mug of tea and bit into an oversized doughnut, a once-in-a-while indulgence, while trying to catch up with the news at the same time by perusing one of the dog-eared newspapers. Some of the other surgeons came in, including Joel, who handed her a brown paper bag. 'A present for you,' he said very quietly. 'Open it later.'
'I already have a doughnut,' she said.
'It isn't a doughnut.'
Looking into the bag, she saw the distinctive green wrapping paper of an exclusive jewellery store enclosing a square box which was tied up with green ribbon. There was gold lettering on the paper, spelling 'Blanes', the name of the store.
When she looked at Joel with enquiring eyes, he avoided her glance, got himself tea and buried his head in a newspaper. She tried very hard to control what she felt was a rush of colour to her face. Perhaps, she thought, this was his way of asking her to marry him. Perhaps this was an engagement ring, although it felt rather heavy. With her heart beating fast, she left the coffee-lounge and made her way to the change room.
With hasty fingers she ripped the paper off, to reveal the distinctive box of Blanes, with its gold logo printed all over the cardboard. Inside the box was something wrapped in tissue paper, and a tiny card in an envelope. As she eased the object out of the box, it became clear that it was not the right shape for another box bearing an engagement ring. Carefully she removed the tissue paper to reveal a jar of Vick's VapoRub.
The little card read, 'Here is a new supply for you, with the memory of an enjoyable evening. It's great knowing you, Nell.'
With the jar in her hand, Nell began to laugh, going on until she felt weak. So much for the engagement ring. Was he trying to tell her something?
After putting the box in her locker, she decided to go back to the coffee-lounge to thank Joel for his present, only to find that the room was empty. 'Oh, well,' she sighed, 'I'll just have another mug of tea.'
Ah, it was so good to sit with your feet up when you had been on them all day, to cradle a mug of hot tea. All was quiet and peaceful. When she had drunk her tea she sat with her eyes closed, her head resting against the back of the chair, trying to empty her mind, to concentrate on her breathing in the way that she had been taught at a meditation class that she had taken some years ago. Very soon she would go home.
When the door opened about five minutes later, she did not immediately open her eyes, and when she did, she found John standing there in front of her with a look of concern on his face. So sure that it would have been Joel, she just looked back at the man she considered her boss with a blank stare. As always, he looked trim and fit for a middle-aged man, with a head of thick iron-grey hair that, if anything, actually made him look more youthful than many men of his age. He had a thin, angular face and blue eyes, an attractive man, Nell considered yet again, dispassionately.
'Nell, are you all right?' John asked. 'You look very pale.'
'I feel pale,' she said, looking up at him, managing to dredge up a small smile. 'What a time it's been, eh, John? The last two weeks or so?'
'Mmm,' he said, seeming to her to be distracted, almost agitated. 'Once in a while we need something like that to keep us on our toes, to test our emergency protocol. Are you sure you're all right?'
'Apart from being able to use a weekend off, yes, I'm all right, John. How are you?'
He did not answer her question, went to pour himself some. tea. Something was making him agitated,
she sensed, and wondered if it had something to do with her, whether he had to tell her that she had made a less than optimal decision about a patient... something like that. Her intuition picked up something, a dissonance.
John put down his mug of tea on a table and sat down near her. Normally a man of quiet confidence, he seemed tongue-tied.
'Nell...' He leaned towards her, fixing her with an odd look that she had not seen before. 'This may not be the time or the place, but I have something to ask you that's been on my mind for a long time, and the opportunities to say it have been few.'
Oh, lord, she thought, have I not come up to his professional expectations, or something?
'The thing is,' he said, speaking slowly and with difficulty, 'I've been alone for a long time...and what I want to ask is...will you marry me?'
Nell stared at him blankly, her tiredness making her mind sluggish. Indeed this was not the time or place. It was something difficult to take in and she felt her lips part and her jaw drop in surprise. The look of stupefaction that she knew was on her face—although she was not really surprised—caused an answering change of expression in him.
'1...' she began, then tried again. 'I wasn't expecting this, John. I mean, not here and now.'
'No, I can see that,' he said quietly, in his usual somewhat dignified manner. 'I do love you, you know, Nell, so you must have had some idea.'
'Well, yes and no,' she said, desperately trying to think of something to say that would not sound inappropriate, wishy-washy or demeaning of him.
'I...hardly know what to say.'
'It obviously isn't a quick "yes",' he said with a rueful smile, which made Nell almost wish that she could love him, because he was a good man in every way. But the human heart was fickle and you could not force love, could not will it. Sadly, at that moment, she thought that maybe Joel had not asked her to marry him for the same reason.
'John,' she said, deciding not to prevaricate, 'I have to tell you, the father of my son has come back to live in Gresham, to be part of my son's life. I.. .1 can't marry anyone else now...if ever.'
With admirable prescience, he said, 'Is he someone I know?'
'It's Joel Matheson,' she said. At last, in a very quick and unexpected way, the past seemed to have come to an end and a new era begun with the stating of the truth, bringing it into the open. The speed with which it had happened stunned her. 'I'm Sorry, John. That's my position. I like and respect you tremendously. You've been wonderful to me.'
'But I'm too old for you and you love someone else,' he said, with only a trace of disappointment and hurt pride in his voice, a slightly stunned expression on his face which he seemed to be striving to control. 'I hope I haven't made too much of a fool of myself.'
'No, never that,' she said.
'I want to take care of you,' he said, very seriously, so that she felt a hysterical desire to laugh and then to cry.
'Sometimes it's very nice to be looked after,' she said sincerely, searching carefully for the right words, not wanting to hurt him, 'and, heaven knows, there have been times when I needed a partner to lean on. But now my days of needing, or expecting, to be looked after are over, John.' Strictly speaking, that wasn't true, of course. She was just as vulnerable as the next person, she knew in her heart of hearts.
He got up to stand in front of her. 'I can see that I have indeed chosen the wrong time and place,' he said. 'I'm sorry, Nell. It wasn't something I had planned before I came into the room just now. Seeing you sitting there, looking very pale and tired, with your eyes closed as though you might faint, I just came out with it—something I've been thinking about for a long time.'
Swallowing nervously, she stood up as well, feeling at a disadvantage sitting down. 'It's all right, John,' she said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. 'I do understand.'
Abruptly the door opened and Joel came in, obviously perceiving instantly that there was an atmosphere in the room. Nell knew that her face was expressionless as she strove to control any obvious emotion. Joel said nothing, just looked at them, his eyes moving from one to the other, and simply raised his eyebrows in enquiry.
'I've just asked Nell to marry me and she's refused,' John said. 'You're the lucky one, I understand. Congratulations.' When he held out a hand to Joel, the latter took it automatically.
'Congrat—?' Joel began, his voice fading away. Her heart was hammering at great speed as she felt that events were getting away from her.
'I didn't say... We haven't...' she stumbled, addressing herself to John. 'Nothing has been decided.'
'You don't have to give an account of yourself, Nell,' John said. 'I fully understand. I was way out of line.'
'Don't apologize, please,' she said desperately, not wanting to see him inappropriately humbled.
As he made to leave, Nell said, 'Wait, John, please. Joel and I haven't exactly agreed to marry...'
'He's the father of your son,' John said, as though he had not heard her. 'It's understandable that you would want to be together.'
'Please,' she said, 'keep this confidential. No one else knows about us.'
'Of course I will... of course,' he said, ever the gentleman, and Nell's heart ached for him.
Then he was gone, leaving her and Joel to confront each other.
'What the hell's going on?' he asked, his face like thunder. 'What prompted him to ask you to marry him right here?' He looked pointedly around the scruffy, homely room. 'Or did you ask him?'
'No!'
'What, then?'
'Well, I didn't throw myself at him,' she said, getting back some of her innate courage. 'He thought I looked pale and fragile.'
'What?'
'Pale and fragile,' she repeated. 'He wants to take care of me.'
'Bloody hell,' he said. 'Now he thinks that we...that we are about to get married. Isn't that the gist of it?'
'Hole in one,' she said, getting furious at his incredulous expression.
'Don't be facetious. Did you lead him to believe that?' he went on furiously, frowning ominously.
'No, I did not. Repeat, did not,' she said, articulating each word forcefully. 'He made all the assumptions.'
'Before we know it, the whole place will be congratulating us,' he said bitingly. 'I'm not ready for that, as you well know, if I ever will be. I wouldn't put it past you to have engineered this.'
Without premeditation, Nell reached forward and slapped his face hard, the sound a sharp retort in the small, quiet room. What a relief that was! An awful silence ensued, into which her gasping breaths, as she fought for control of her emotions, intruded.
'Nothing was further from my mind,' she managed to get out through trembling lips. 'You really do think you're God's gift to women. It looks as though I've made a fool of myself with you, doesn't it?' she continued bitterly. 'I've been honest. You always were somewhat standoffish, Joel Matheson. You always put a high premium on yourself.'
'A high premium?' he said, frowning.
'Yes. It took you a hell of a long time to ask me out,' she said, 'when we worked together in the emergency department.'
'I wasn't exactly panting to get involved with someone, from what I remember,' he said bitingly. 'I was working like hell, had studying and exams to get through—I don't have to tell you that. You've been through it yourself. And you as sure as hell were not very mature, even had you been the nineteen that I took you for. You were cute, but so were a lot of other people.'
'John asked me because he loves me. He said so. That's more than you've said,' she went on. 'I assume you just want sex from me.. .now that you know how I feel about you.'
'He certainly made a hell of a lot of assumptions,' Joel said, ignoring the last part of her remark, putting a hand up to his face, which held a stunned expression and a red mark on the pale skin. 'Without any help from you, it seems.'
'We've known each other for a long time,' she said, mustering a surprising level of dignity. 'When I told you that I loved you it was because it was true, because I w
anted to be with you. But know this, Joel Matheson, I'm not that desperate. I can take it or leave it. John's a good man, he'll keep his word.'
She moved round him and yanked open the door, while he stood glaring at her, his face paler than she'd ever seen it, his eyes dark and glittering with an unfathomable expression.
'That was the first time in my life that someone has asked me to marry him,' she said quietly. 'Not that I haven't had opportunities...it's more that I didn't allow myself to be in the way of a proposal because of what happened between you and me. I don't want to lay a guilt trip on you, it just happens to be the truth.'
'I can't help that,' he said.
With the door safely open and herself halfway through it, she turned back. 'Thanks for the Vicks,' she said. 'Don't bother to talk to me outside work unless you can say something civil, like an apology.'
'Wait!'
She almost ran down the corridor, which mercifully was empty as she could not control her features which she felt were crumbling into an expression of abject grief, sobs rising in her throat beyond her control. The first time in her life that she had had a marriage proposal... the reality was somewhat overwhelming, especially because it had happened at work. Sadly, it had been from the wrong man.
Seeing a woman's washroom, she quickly went inside and locked herself in a cubicle, letting the tears flow. She wanted to howl and sob, not having been aware of how close she was to some sort of breaking point.
No doubt she would be all right once she was home, had had a decent meal, a rest. When she had managed to control her feelings, she let herself out, washed her face and set off for the change room, hoping that she would not run into anyone she knew.
In the sanctuary of the change room she had a shower, taking her time. It would be a relief to get out of the hospital. There was a sense, of mourning that the rapport she had built up with Joel had been shattered, plus the gradually developing feeling that he had played a trick on her by putting a jar of Vicks in a jeweller's box, duping her into thinking that it was an engagement ring, or at least a piece of jewellery. He must have known what she would think. What she had thought of as a joke earlier, she now thought of as thoughtless, even cruel.