by Laura Iding
“Are you working tomorrow?” He asked.
“Yes.” Dana tipped her head to look up at him. “Thanks again for dinner.”
“Goodnight.” He leaned down to kiss her.
She expected a nice friendly kiss, but the instant his mouth met hers, the kiss morphed into something wanton, needy. His tongue swept hers and her knees nearly buckled. Fueled by a stab of desire, she pressed against him, reveling in the way his tongue explored hers.
A moan escaped, low in her throat. Mitch kissed her with an intensity that sent adrenaline spiking through her veins. Snowflakes melted against her face but she barely noticed the flickering coolness on her heated skin.
A group of laughing party-goers stumbled out of the pub doorway, singing “Frosty the Snowman” in loud, screeching voices. Reality intruded and she pulled back from his kiss, drawing in deep breaths to clear her head.
Mitch pressed a kiss against her temple, holding her close as if reluctant to let her go. Finally he loosened his grip and took a step back. His voice was low, rough. “I didn’t mean that to get so out of control. See you tomorrow, Dana.”
She couldn’t answer, so she simply nodded. He stood holding onto her door and waiting until she’d climbed into her nicely warm car, and gently closed the door behind her.
With shaking hands she fastened her seat belt, then put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
In her rear-view mirror, she saw Mitch still standing in the cold, hands tucked in his pockets, gazing after her with a serious expression on his face, while a light dusting of snow covered his dark hair. She wondered what he was thinking.
Was he also wishing the evening didn’t have to end?
It took every ounce of will-power she possessed not to turn around and go back to him.
The next morning, Dana dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen. Coffee. She desperately needed coffee. Double-strength coffee. If she could, she’d ingest only the caffeine.
Thoughts of Mitch had kept her awake long into the early morning hours. She regretted how she’d played it safe and left him, yet at the same time she knew she was already in too deep.
She was more than a little emotionally involved with a man who claimed to have nothing to offer her but friendship but kissed her as if she were the last woman on earth.
So she’d spent another hour trying to analyze her previous relationships, as if she might determine where she’d failed in order to avoid doing the same thing with Mitch. Until she’d realized that, in and of itself, was the problem.
While she might have some control over her own feelings, she couldn’t control how Mitch or any other man felt about her. And it all came back to one thing.
No one had ever claimed to love her. Not to the point of not being able to live without her.
Trying to decipher what flaw she possessed had kept her tossing and turning for most of the night. Until she’d given up trying and decided to hit the shower then get ready for work.
Dana was in the middle of creating an omelet with the various leftovers in her fridge when her front doorbell rang.
Mitch? She couldn’t prevent the leap of her pulse at the possibility. Wiping her hands on a towel, she hurried to the door.
A strange man stood on her porch. Irritated by being interrupted by some salesman, she opened the door and almost told him to go away. At the last moment, she hesitated, sensing something vaguely familiar about him. Was he a former patient?
“Dana?” The man, who she guessed was in his late fifties by the liberal sprinkling of gray in his hair, held up a white envelope with her name on it.
“Yes?” She frowned and shivered in the cold. How on earth had a former patient figured out where she lived?
“If you’d take a few minutes to read this letter, I’d appreciate it.”
As she reached for the letter, recognition dawned. This guy wasn’t a patient. He was her father. The man standing on her doorstep was the father she hadn’t seen in twenty-five years.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said quickly, sensing her immediate withdrawal.
“No, you don’t.”
“Please, give me a chance. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but read the letter. Please, Dana, that’s all I ask. Ten minutes of your time to read my letter.”
He spun around and strode to his car, parked on the street in front of her house. While she stared at the envelope glued to her fingertips, he slid behind the wheel and drove away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MITCH GLANCED AT the clock, feeling as if the day was dragging on forever. In reality things were busy enough, but he knew the real problem was that he was waiting for three o’clock when Dana would start her shift.
His pager vibrated at his waist, and he frowned when he noticed the message was from his Dr. Edward Jericho’s office. Since Dr. Biloxi, the resident on duty, seemed to be doing a good job of examining the pneumonia patient lying on the gurney in the ED, he crossed over to the nearest phone.
“This is Mitch Reynolds, answering a page.”
“Just a moment. Dr. Jericho wants to speak with you.” Marge, the administrative assistant, put him on hold. Christmas tunes filled his ear but he couldn’t dredge up the familiar annoyance at the irritating cheerfulness.
“Mitch. Thanks for answering my page. I need you to cover the ICU for the next two weeks, through to the first of the year. Dr. Ignasia’s wife delivered early, and he won’t be able to be on duty as planned.”
Mitch didn’t hesitate, although he felt a little pang of regret at the news. A baby’s life was so fragile. Too fragile. “I can cover, no problem. Hope the baby is OK.”
“His daughter is a good size, at least four pounds, but they still have her in the neonatal ICU over at Children’s Memorial. Thanks for being flexible, Mitch. I appreciate your help.”
“I really don’t mind.” And he didn’t, mostly because this would give him plenty of time to see Dana at work. Although he wanted to see her away from the critical care unit, too. The kiss they’d shared had left him wanting more. Much more.
For the first time in a long time, he felt truly alive, eager to face the day, ready to handle anything that came his way.
“Great. Any concerns, give me a call,” Ed Jericho said.
“Actually, I did want to talk to you about the lack of bi-phasic defibrillators in the department,” Mitch said quickly. “We don’t have to get into it now, but when you have time I’d like to discuss bringing some in.”
“Bring it up at our next faculty meeting,” Ed instructed.
“I will.” Mitch hung up then turned back to his resident and the pneumonia patient. Dr. Biloxi had finished his exam so Mitch wandered over. “Dr. Biloxi, what do you think? Does Mrs. Hammer’s condition warrant an ICU bed or is she stable enough to be placed out on the general floor?”
He already knew what his decision would be, and he was satisfied when, after listing all the pertinent findings of his exam, Dr. Biloxi stated he felt Mrs. Hammer would do fine on the general floor.
“I concur. Write up your notes, then call the ward team and let them know they have a new admission.”
At a quarter to three he headed back upstairs to the critical care unit. Dana was in the unit early as was her usual habit. He longed to approach her, but was mindful of the fact that she was on duty. Bad enough they’d left the party together last evening—seeking her out the minute she reported for work would only add fuel to the fire.
Not that cared for himself, but he was cognizant of the working relationship she needed to maintain with her peers. Especially women like Therese. He hoped Therese wasn’t working tonight, too.
His pager went off again, this time announcing another possible new admission. Glad for a legitimate reason to talk to Dana in her role as charge nurse, he headed toward her.
“Hi, Dana. Thought I should let you know, there’s a new admission on the way in, a sixteen-year-old girl who overdosed on over-the-counter medicatio
ns.”
She winced a little at the news but nodded. “’Tis the season, huh? Not everyone is cheered by the holidays. All right, thanks for letting me know. Since everyone else isn’t here yet, I’ll take Jessica and the new admission.”
“Great.” He gave her a quick smile. “I’m heading back down to the ED. I’ll let you know one way or the other.”
“I hope she didn’t take too much,” Dana agreed. She didn’t quite meet his gaze and the furrows in her brow gave him the impression something was troubling her. There wasn’t time to ask, though, because his presence was needed in the ED.
As he took the stairs down to ground level two at a time, he wondered what had caused such a difference in Dana since last night. He didn’t like seeing her so troubled and wondered if she’d meet him later in the cafeteria so they could talk.
After years of keeping his feelings bottled up inside, it was strange how tuned in to Dana’s emotions he was.
The ED was a whirlwind of activity. Mitch saw the hysterical parents first, then the group of medical personnel surrounding the patient.
“What did she take?” He asked as the ED doctor struggled to insert a nasogastric tube. The girl’s name was Trina Grafton and she was extremely lethargic.
“Ibuprofen, aspirin, and some kind of cold medicine,” the resident informed him. “She pretty much stayed with whatever happened to be in the medicine cabinet. Except acetaminophen, thank God.”
Acetominophen caused severe damage to the liver, so at least Trina was lucky to escape the possibility of being listed for a transplant. “Let’s get that tube into her as quickly as possible. We should intubate her, too, to protect her airway.” The treatment for a drug overdose wasn’t pretty—the activated charcoal bound the medication and prevented the body from absorbing it, but the only way to get the tarry substance into Trina’s stomach was to put it through the tube. And pray she didn’t bring it back up.
The ED doctor turned Trina’s care over to Mitch as soon as he could. Mitch agreed to take the patient up to the ICU, but asked the ED doctor, Kane Anderson, to talk to the patient’s parents first. “I’ll follow up with them after we see what her levels are once we’ve given her the first dose of charcoal.”
“Fine. I’ll send them over to the family center once I’ve given them an update.” Kane glanced at the young girl. “She’s a cutie. What could possibly be so bad at sixteen?”
“How about a positive pregnancy test?” Erica, one of the ED nurses walked up to them with a lab slip in her hand. They routinely did pregnancy tests on all females of child-bearing age, just for this reason. They didn’t want to provide treatment, especially medications, without knowing if the patient might be pregnant.
“Oh, boy.” His stomach clenched at the news. He hadn’t noticed any sign of pregnancy, although he hadn’t looked for any either. “Get me a Doppler.” Mitch pulled back the sheets and performed a brief abdominal exam, feeling only the slightest swelling in Trina’s lower abdomen. When the nurse brought the Doppler, he listened all around her belly for any sign of the baby’s heartbeat. Nothing. He couldn’t hear a single thing.
“Either she’s too early in her first trimester for the fetus to have a heart rate, or she’s already lost the baby.” He set the Doppler aside, feeling helpless.
“I’ll get in touch the OB/GYN team to come and take a look at her.” The nurse disappeared to make the call. “If the baby is still viable, they may want a continuous Doppler on.”
“Are you going to tell her parents?” he asked Kane.
“Ah, hell. I hate this.” Kane scrubbed his hands over his face. “Legally, she’s a minor and the parents have a right to know her medical condition. But if the overdose caused her to lose the baby, it’s a moot point. Should we hold off and wait to see what the OB/GYN team thinks?”
“I wouldn’t.” Mitch shook his head. “Her parents have a right to look at her chart. If they see the OB/GYN consultants in the room, they’ll find out the hard way.” Mitch silently agreed with Kane that this situation was the absolute worst. “Heck, for all we know, there’s more bothering this girl other than just being pregnant. Either way, legally I think we have to tell them. No matter how much we don’t want to.”
Kane sighed heavily. “Since when are you the legal expert around here?” When Mitch raised a brow, Kane shrugged. “All right, I’ll let them know. God, I hope I’m never a parent.”
Being a parent was a huge responsibility. Especially when you failed to protect your child from harm. Losing Jason had left a huge hole in his heart. A rift so wide, he and Gwen had been unable to overcome the distance. After the divorce, he’d decided not to risk having another family.
Now he wasn’t so sure. Was the pain and agony worth the effort? Trina’s case was an example of how the risk of losing a loved one didn’t only exist in those first precious months but throughout the child’s lifetime. Thinking back, even knowing what he knew now, he wouldn’t trade those few months he had with Jason for anything in the world.
A dilemma, no matter which way you looked at it.
He ignored the sick feeling in his stomach and called Dana to warn her they were on their way with the patient.
“Bring her to bed twelve,” Dana told him. “I’ll meet you there when I’m finished with Jessica.”
Within a few minutes he and the ED transporter had brought the gurney up to bed twelve. True to her word, Dana met them in the room shortly thereafter.
“I want her on full ventilatory support,” Mitch told her. “And get more charcoal ready—the dose they gave down in the ED came back up.”
“I noticed,” Dana commented with a frown. “Poor thing is a mess.”
“More charcoal first, then we can worry about cleaning her up. Her parents are probably already in the family center downstairs, waiting to see her.”
“All right. Give me a few minutes here.” Dana made sure the respiratory therapist connected Trina to the ventilator, then proceeded to give the second dose of charcoal.
“The OB/GYN team should show up soon. Trina is pregnant but I couldn’t detect any fetal heart tones with the Doppler in the ED. Maybe they’ll have better equipment.” Mitch gave Dana a quick run-down while she worked on cleaning up the mess from the previous dose. “We don’t know how far along she is.”
“Oh, no,” Dana murmured, her gaze stricken. “What if something happened to the baby?”
“Kane Anderson is telling her parents the news now.” Mitch sighed. This was why he didn’t like the holidays. Nothing cheerful about this situation at all.
“Looks like this dose of charcoal might stay down. When do you want me to send more blood to check another aspirin and ibuprofen level?” Dana asked.
“Not for another four hours.” Mitch leaned over to peer at Trina’s pupils, verifying her neuro status hadn’t changed for the worse. “I hope she wakes up soon.”
“Me, too.”
“Dana?” Caryn poked her head into the room. “Your patient’s parents want to see her.”
“All right.” Dana continued to wipe Trina’s face with the towel. She glanced at Caryn over her shoulder. “Go ahead and send them in.”
Mitch stayed at the bedside in case Trina’s parents had additional questions.
“Oh, Trina. No matter what happens, we love you. We will always love you.” Trina’s mother sobbed as she clung to her daughter’s hand.
Trina’s father turned to Mitch. “I don’t know if you realize Trina is adopted. We don’t really know any details about her medical history or any genetic problems she may pass on to the baby.”
“It’s all right,” Mitch assured him. “Other than the obvious overdose, Trina appears healthy enough. We’ve asked the specialists to come by and examine her.”
Dana stepped forward and introduced herself as Trina’s nurse, then proceeded to explain some of the medical equipment in the room, including the ventilator.
“Why didn’t she just come and talk to us? Doesn’t she know how
much we love her?” Trina’s mother lifted her red-rimmed eyes to Mitch’s. “Will she recover from this?”
“As long as her drug levels come down, she should be fine. The biggest concern right now is potential bleeding from the aspirin she took.” Mitch didn’t lie to them. Trina’s chances were good.
He wasn’t as convinced the same held true for the baby.
Unsure of what else he could say to make them feel better, he hesitated. Dana put her arm around Trina’s mother. His brows rose in surprise when the woman turned and gave her a hug.
“I hope she wakes up soon.”
“She will, don’t worry. Just keep talking to her. Often patients can still hear, even if they can’t respond.”
Trina’s mother did as Dana suggested. Dana was a great nurse, but the tears spiking her lashes confirmed she cared almost a little too much.
But Mitch couldn’t find fault, not when he longed for some of Dana’s caring concern for himself.
Trina’s baby was still alive.
Dana continued to care for her two patients, Trina and Jessica, but the news about Trina’s baby made her feel light-hearted and relieved. Trina’s parents had gotten weepy all over again when they’d learned the news, even though the OB/GYN physicians had been cautiously optimistic.
“Miscarriages are not uncommon in the first trimester,” they’d warned. “Everything seems fine now, but we’ll need to watch her closely over the next few weeks.”
Trina was only ten weeks pregnant and Dana wondered if desperation over discovering the news had led to the overdose or if there was something more. Either way, she hoped Trina would seek help. The girl had a long road ahead of her and her life would be forever changed from this point forward. At least her parents seemed supportive and willing to help her through this.
She couldn’t help comparing Trina’s father to hers. The envelope he’d given her was still at home on her kitchen table, unopened. When she’d left for work, she’d planned on tossing it in the garbage without reading it when she returned home.
Now she wasn’t so sure.