Lakeside Hospital Box Set

by Cara Malone

  “How can I compete with saving lives?” she asked. “Do what you have to do – I can entertain myself.”

  Krys’s gaze lingered on her for just a moment, then she looked back down at her tablet and Darcy sat there for a few minutes, looking at all the monitors and medical equipment around the room. Compared to what she’d had to work with in Iraq, all of it seemed so expensive, extravagant and even luxurious.

  She spent a minute or two looking past Krys and out the window. There was just a parking lot beyond it, nothing particularly interesting, but if she was being honest, she wasn’t really looking out the window.

  Krys’s dark, silky hair fell over her shoulder and she had a habit of blowing it out of the way in little puffs of air whenever it fell across the tablet screen. Her brows were in a perpetually furrowed state as she concentrated, and every time the tip of her tongue emerged to wet her lips, Darcy felt butterflies in her stomach.

  After a while, Darcy pulled out her phone and sent a text to her brother, thanking him for feeding Harvey. He sent back a picture of Harvey looking as pathetic as he possibly could, his chin on his paws and giving the camera sad eyes.

  He misses you!

  Darcy smiled and leaned across the aisle between their beds to show the picture to Krys. It was impossible to look at Harvey and not melt – that was why he was such a killer when it came to chatting up the women at the dog park. But Krys was not to be swayed from her task. She went back to her paperwork, so Darcy texted back I miss him, too!

  Then she texted her dad to let him know what was going on. Her phone starting ringing immediately. She got up to answer the call and felt Krys’s eyes on her. She was tempted to stay there so as to keep Krys’s attention, but she didn’t want to bother her with a noisy phone call so she went into the en suite bathroom to talk to her dad.

  “Hey,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you – I’m fine.”

  “I just touched down in Chicago. Should I come to the hospital?” he asked. “Which one are you at?”

  “Lakeside,” Darcy said. “But don’t come down. I could be contagious and the whole reason I didn’t come home was to keep you and Harvey safe.”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah,” Darcy said. “The chances that I’m actually sick are slim, but they have to take precautions.”

  “Did you call your mother?”

  Darcy snorted. She hadn’t called her mother in over ten years.

  “No, but I asked Danny to feed Harvey,” she said. “That’s just as good as telling Mom.”

  “And she hasn’t called you?” her dad asked. She could hear a note of protection in his voice and it made a lump form in the back of her throat. He may have been flying around the country for the better part of the last two decades, but he was a good father no matter where he was.

  “No,” Darcy said. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” her dad grumbled.

  “Don’t worry about me, Dad,” Darcy said. “They said I’ll get the results of my bloodwork back this evening. I’ll call you as soon as I do, and then I can come home.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll make steaks for dinner. Call me if anything changes and you want me to come to the hospital, okay?”

  “I will,” Darcy said. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, pumpkin,” he answered. Darcy hung up and when she went back into the room, she found Krys talking to three more doctors in protective gowns.

  “Three doctors - are we dying?” Darcy asked with a nervous laugh.

  “No,” Krys said. “These are my friends – Ivy, Chloe, and Lily.”

  “Oh, good,” Darcy said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

  “This is Darcy,” Krys said. “She’s the one I told you about – the army medic who’s working with me at the clinic.”

  Darcy smiled. Krys had told her friends about her.

  She shook hands with the three of them – all gloved and masked. It was a strange feeling, being introduced to people whose only visible features were their eyes. Lily’s eyes were warm and calming – Darcy guessed that she was the rock in this group. Chloe seemed younger than the others because of the energy in her big, blue doe eyes. And Ivy’s were intense like Krys’s, a fire burning behind them. Her eyes kept darting back and forth between Krys and Darcy, giving Krys amused looks.

  What had she told them?

  “It’s nice to meet you all,” Darcy said. She sat down on the edge of her bed, not wanting to feel like a patient by climbing all the way into it.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Chloe said. Darcy could tell she was smiling, even with the mask on, through her eyes and the tone of her voice. “So you’re a combat medic – is that a doctor?”

  “No,” Darcy said. “It’s more like a paramedic.”

  “That must have been a pretty hectic environment,” Chloe said. Then she looked at Krys and added, “You two are made for each other.”

  Darcy glanced at Krys, who wouldn’t meet her eyes and instead was scowling at Chloe for her comment. Darcy smiled and wondered if she should try asking Krys out again later.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said. “We work well together at the clinic, though.”

  She tried to be unobtrusive in their conversation. She didn’t want to butt in where she wasn’t wanted, and yet there was nowhere for her to go in this small room except back into the bathroom. Not wanting Krys to think she had some sort of problem that kept sending her in there, Darcy stayed and politely tried not to inject herself too much in Krys’s conversation with her friends.

  They asked her about the suspected tuberculosis patient – it appeared that was why they were all here, looking for gossip on a rare case. Krys lit up, immediately sliding into her element and giving them a play-by-play of everything that had happened last night.

  At the end of it, Chloe chastised Krys for staying in the hospital instead of resting at home but Ivy said she’d have done the same thing. Then her eyes darted over to Darcy again and she wondered if Ivy was smiling beneath that paper mask.

  Then Lily’s pager went off and she took Chloe out of the room. Darcy picked up on the fact that Chloe and Ivy were a couple when they squeezed each other’s hands, and then Ivy turned to Krys.

  “I better go, too. I have to say I’m a little jealous that you’re getting all this time to get caught up on your literature,” she said. “Don’t get too absorbed in your reading.”

  Krys rolled her eyes. “Only you would be jealous of a TB exposure.”

  “See you on Friday for our usual meeting?” Ivy asked.

  “If I’m not confined to a tuberculosis ward by then,” Krys joked.

  “You better not be,” Ivy said. “I’d hate to have to find a new mentor.”

  Krys said goodbye and Darcy waved a polite goodbye as well, and then Ivy left and they were alone again. Darcy checked the time. It was only ten-thirty.

  “So your friends all work in the hospital,” Darcy said. “That must be convenient.”

  “It is,” Krys laughed. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have any. Were you able to talk to your dad earlier?”

  “Yeah,” Darcy said. “He’d just touched down at O’Hare, although I assume he’s probably home by now.”

  “What about your mom? Is she worried about you?”

  Darcy smiled and changed the subject instead of answering. “I had a crazy idea. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Sure,” Krys said warily.

  “You rejected me last night when I asked you out,” Darcy said. She could see the fear in Krys’s eyes the moment she said it, as if she was about to be grilled, so Darcy hurried up. “You also said that you don’t mind it when your friends force you to hang out with them, and the main reason you don’t want to date me is because you don’t have any time. Is that right?”

  “Yes,” Krys said, cocking her head to the side and studying Darcy.

  Darcy held her arms out, gesturing at the room around them. “All we hav
e right now is time. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

  “In this hospital room?”

  “Why not?” Darcy asked, putting on her most winning smile. “What do you have to lose, other than the opportunity to read-” she snatched one of Krys’s medical journals off her bed and read the title, “-The Annals of Emergency Medicine?”

  Krys smiled at her, a coy little look that sent those butterflies fluttering again, and said, “Well, for one thing, how will I ever forgive myself for not taking this time to learn more about traumatic pneumothorax in an emergency setting?”

  She snatched the journal back as Darcy answered, “I have a feeling you know enough about that to get by. What do you say, take a chance on me?”

  “Fine,” Krys said. “I am curious to find out what kind of date you can make out of a hospital room.”

  “Think of it like a wacky meet-up scenario,” Darcy said. “Two strangers forced to get to know each other in an unlikely setting.”

  “Just don’t stick a pen in my neck, MacGyver,” Krys said. She gathered up all her medical journals and the tablet, stacking them in a neat pile at the foot of her bed. Then she turned her attention fully to Darcy and asked, “So where are you taking me?”

  “Lunch and a television show?” Darcy suggested. “And maybe we can flag down a nurse to bring us a deck of cards or something. The ones at the VA hospital stashed some games and things for the long-term patients when they got bored.”

  “Tell me about that,” Krys said. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

  “My leg?” Darcy asked. “No, I don’t mind.”

  She told Krys about the grenade blast and the four-inch piece of steel that she found sticking out of her thigh after the dust cleared. She talked about how strange it had been to watch her fellow army medics taking care of her, and the terrified looks in their eyes that told her she was lucky to survive.

  “If the shrapnel had hit me just about an inch to the left, it would have cut into my femoral artery and I would have bled out before they ever got me to the field hospital,” she said. “As it was, I had to have extensive reconstructive surgery and they removed about ten percent of the muscle that was too shredded to repair. I spent almost a month in hospitals, both in Iraq and stateside, and it ended my military career. But I was one of the lucky ones.”

  She found herself saying that a lot lately, whenever someone asked for her story. She knew it was true, but for the longest time it felt like a hollow sentiment. The Army had been her world and adjusting to civilian life wasn’t easy.

  “You seem like you’re doing a lot better even since I’ve met you,” Krys said. “You’re favoring your left leg a lot less.”

  “I go to physical therapy once a week and my therapist says I’m healing like a champ,” Darcy said proudly. “I figured if I can’t work yet, I ought to make recovery my job instead.”

  They talked for a little while about Darcy’s family – skirting around her issues with her mother, which Darcy preferred to save for at least date number two. When a nurse came by with a couple of trays for lunch, Darcy suggested they make the meal as ambient as possible in the hospital room. She and Krys grabbed the two chairs meant for visitors and set them up beneath the television. Then Darcy got one of the tray tables and lowered it to a proper table height, sliding it between them.

  She took Krys’s hand and guided her to one of the chairs, then carried the two meal trays over to the table. She pulled the pink plastic lid off Krys’s tray with a flourish, playing the role of the waiter, and then sat down and uncovered her own meal with less fanfare.

  “What’s on the menu?” she asked.

  “Looks like chicken salad sandwiches,” Krys said. “With a side of coleslaw and a bottle of apple juice.”

  “And a chocolate chip cookie,” Darcy added. She picked it up but it was hard as a rock. She tapped it against her tray, laughing, and said, “The VA hospital definitely had better cookies.”

  “That’s what you get for skipping right to dessert,” Krys said. She picked up her sandwich and took a big bite, saying, “Not bad.”

  “What can I say? I hate delayed gratification,” Darcy said.

  “That’s too bad,” Krys said. “I think you’re destined for an awful lot of that if a hospital room is your idea of a good date location.”

  “You’re not having fun?” Darcy asked with a frown.

  “No, I am,” Krys said. “More than I expected, actually.”

  “Good,” Darcy said. “Now tell me more about your friends. They seem to really care about you a lot.”

  “Nah,” Krys said, waving her hand dismissively. “They’re just in it for the gossip.”

  “We’ll have to give them some, then,” Darcy said.

  After their meal was over, Darcy pulled the tray table back over to her bed and held out her hand for Krys. “Can I walk you back to your place?”

  Krys laughed and gave Darcy her hand. Her skin was smooth and her fingers long and elegant. Darcy already knew she was good with her hands after watching her work in the clinic, and she ran her thumb over the back of Krys’s hand as they walked excruciatingly slowly to Krys’s bed.

  “Did you have a nice time?” she asked.

  “I did,” Krys answered. When Darcy came to a stop beside the bed, she asked, “Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

  “Is that allowed?” Darcy asked, glancing toward the door.

  “Generally, no,” Krys said, leaning over to grab her tablet from the foot of the bed. “But I can bend the rules once in a while.”

  She sat down on the bed, crossing her legs and putting the tablet on the mattress in front of her. Then she patted the bed and told Darcy to sit.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Darcy said, mirroring Krys’s posture as she sat down across from her. Krys turned on the tablet and swiped over to a hidden screen full of games.

  “What’s your poison?” she asked with a big grin. “Uno, chess, Scrabble?”

  “Anything but war,” Darcy said.

  They were playing a hands-only version of Twister with an app Krys found, their fingers all entwined on top of the screen, when the door opened next. Krys pulled her hands away first, blushing as Dr. Whitmore came into the room. For not actually being patients, it sure felt like they were being visited by doctors an awful lot.

  Darcy turned to face him, their game forgotten.

  “Good news,” Dr. Whitmore said, and Darcy could already see that – for once, he wasn’t wearing a mask and paper gown, and she could see the fine white stubble that dotted his chin and cheeks. “Your TB tests came back negative, so you’re free to resume your normal activities.”

  “What about the kid?” Krys asked.

  “He tested positive for active tuberculosis,” Dr. Whitmore said. “That means we’ll need to re-test both of you, as well as the receptionist, in a couple of weeks to make sure the virus isn’t latent in your systems. But the boy’s doing well and looking much better. We got his fever to break this morning and he’s on the road to recovery.”

  Darcy got out of bed and shook the doctor’s hand. When he left, she turned to Krys. She was going to offer to walk her out of the building, and then ask her for a ride back to the clinic where her truck was still in the parking lot. But Krys was shutting down the tablet and gathering up her medical journals.

  “That’s a relief, right?” she said. “Look, I know I drove you here but I really need to get back to work - I missed a lot today. Can you get a ride?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Darcy said, crestfallen. “I’ll call my dad.”

  “Great,” Krys said. “I’m sorry – I just really need to get back up to speed. I had fun, though.”

  “Good,” Darcy said. “We’ll do it again next time you’re in quarantine.”

  And then Krys dashed out of the room and Darcy felt an odd mixture of disappointment and hope brewing in her chest. That hadn’t ended how she hoped it would – well, it had in regard to the tuberculosis, but not when
it came to Krys.

  On the other hand, they’d had their first date.

  Darcy didn’t mind getting a little creative to make their second one happen.

  9

  Krys

  That weekend, Krys had to take half a night off from the clinic to go to Megan and Alex’s wedding rehearsal. They’d asked her to do a reading at the wedding and that meant she needed to be there with the rest of the wedding party to walk through the ceremony.

  For once, Krys was happy to run away from her duties at the clinic.

  Every time she’d seen Darcy since they left their private hospital room, Krys had a hard time making eye contact with her. She felt bashful and nervous, thinking back on how bizarrely romantic their impromptu quarantine date had been despite the surroundings. Darcy made it hard to focus on anything but the deepness of her eyes and the long, sinewy muscles of her arms peeking out from the sleeves of her scrubs.

  It was a ridiculous feeling for a thirty-four-year-old like Krys to have, especially when she had patients to treat and things to do. She’d been serious when she told Darcy she didn’t have time for love, and at their shared clinic shift this afternoon, she’d made it clear that a second date just wasn’t in the cards.

  “You’re not playing hard to get, are you?” Darcy asked, her perfectly white canines poking out from beneath her lip in a bewitching smile.

  Krys’s cheeks grew hot and she had to look at the floor as she said, “No, I’m not. Now please go change the sheets on bed four.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Darcy said. She turned and crossed the treatment room floor, and Krys noticed that she relied less on her cane with every passing day. She was a strong woman and that scared Krys – Darcy wasn’t the type to back down easily when she wanted something.

  When Krys arrived at the church where Alex and Megan were going to be married in just a few weeks, she was still feeling flustered from her interaction with Darcy. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to read Krys, knowing just when to push and when to pull back. It was a little unnerving to know that she could be seen so clearly, and intriguing as well.