Socialite...or Nurse in a Million?

by Molly Evans

  The last patient of the day was a heartbreaker. Or at least she would be in about ten years or so.

  The huge tears that coursed down the little girl’s cheeks nearly did Vicky in. She loved children and hated to see any of them suffering. She squatted down to be at eye level with the girl and cast a quick glance at the name on her clipboard.

  “What happened to you, Trina?” she asked, seeing quite well that blood oozed from a makeshift bandage her mother had applied to her injured knee.

  “I fell…in the rocks,” she said, her words interspersed with tearful gasps.

  “I couldn’t clean it up. I know there is dirt in there, but I just couldn’t do it,” the mother said, nearly as tearful as Trina, and pressed a hand to the bump of her belly.

  “It’s okay. Lots of women have sensitivities when they are pregnant.” Vicky stood. “Can I pick you up, Trina, and we’ll go get your knee all fixed up?”

  Only a nod and more tears were the answer, but she held her arms up to Vicky.

  “It’s okay, darling. It’ll be okay.” Vicky closed her eyes as Trina’s arms closed around her neck in silent trust and acceptance. For a second Vicky’s breath caught. If only she had been this trusting as a child, had been encouraged to be, maybe she wouldn’t have such trust issues as an adult, but the fact was that she had them. As she looked at Miguel entering the room with a bright smile, she nearly forgot to breathe again. She cleared her throat and gained control of her emotions.

  Her stomach tightened when he peeled back the bandage. There certainly were bits of gravel embedded in the wound and she was going to need a few stitches for sure. “Ouch! That must have hurt,” he said. “What happened, little one?”

  Trina nodded and her chin began to tremble again. “I fell.”

  “I’m guessing irrigation and a few stitches?” Vicky asked, and patted Trina’s back.

  “You got it.” Miguel paused, looking at how Trina clung to Vicky. “Why don’t you sit with her and I’ll get the supplies?”

  While Miguel got ready, Vicky sat on the exam table and brought Trina across her lap. “Just hold tight to me, darling, and this will be over before you know it.”

  In minutes the irrigation was over and Miguel had picked out a few remaining bits of dirt. After a quick injection of numbing medication, he was able to place a few stitches to close the wound. “That ought to do it.”

  When Miguel looked up, a lump formed in his throat and his heart skipped at least a few beats. Vicky sat with Trina folded across her lap. Vicky’s eyes were closed, she had tucked her chin over the little girl’s head and was humming softly. What a gorgeous picture they made. Vicky didn’t move except to open her eyes. As her gaze held his, something stirred in him. The same something that had been stirred over the weekend when he’d held her in his arms now roared to life, but he struggled to control it. He swallowed then cleared his throat and tried to choke down the emotions that wanted to race out of him. Vicky was truly beautiful as the light of her heart shone through, but it would never be enough to bridge the gap between them. No, it was best to keep his distance. “All done here. How about a few stickers and a lollipop or two?”

  Distraction. That was the ticket for Trina as well as himself. If he busied himself with the tasks at hand, he might forget the feelings Vicky brought out in him.

  Vicky looked at her. “Ready now? All the nasty stuff is done.” She hugged Trina. “Let’s go find you a treat. You were very brave.”

  “I was, huh?” Trina held her leg up to look at the stitches and then back at Vicky. Tears and questions brimmed in those big brown eyes.

  “It’s okay. They’ll only be in for a little while and then we’ll take them out when your skin grows together. Then you won’t need them anymore.”

  “Can I have a lollipop now?” she asked.

  “Absolutely, then we’ll get you back to your mom.”

  Miguel entered his office just before the last of the staff left for the day. Vicky made sure that everyone was gone before she sealed her fate. She didn’t need any witnesses to what she was about to do. Her heart thundered in her chest and her mouth went dry. Confrontation was not in her makeup, but she had to do this. Not knowing where things lay between her and Miguel was worse than knowing there was nothing. The truth might not set her free, but it could free her from unrealistic expectations and she could go on with her life.

  She knocked on the doorframe and he looked up, surprise on his face, which quickly switched to a closed, guarded expression. “I thought you left with everyone else.” The set of his shoulders was stiff and unyielding, unlike the way they had softened beneath her touch just days ago.

  “Just had one detail to wrap up.” If that’s what you could call it.

  “What’s that?”

  She entered the room and sat on the edge of the chair across from his desk. “It’s about us.”

  “Us? There is no us, Vicky.” He leaned forward and folded his hands together on top of the desk. “I’m sorry if I misled you, but any relationship between us is out of the question.”

  Any possible hope inside her deflated at his statement. “I see.”

  “I’ll apologize now, because I can see with the clarity of hindsight that my behavior on Saturday was unacceptable.”

  “Unacceptable?” She gave a harsh laugh. “It was perfectly acceptable at the time. What changed in the last forty-eight hours?” Bitterness sizzled on the back of her tongue.

  “I did.” With a sigh, he leaned back. “I realized that it was inappropriate of me to behave the way I did and give you an impression that things could be different between us.” A frown covered his face. “I can see that this makes you uncomfortable, so if you were to resign, I would totally understand.”

  “Resign? The idea never occurred to me, Dr. Torres. I’m made of sterner stuff than that.” She pulled herself upright in the chair. “I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t want me to show up tomorrow, you’ll have to fire me now. I simply needed to know where things stood between us and now that I know, I’ll head home.” She rose from the chair. “I have to say that I disagree with your position. There was something magical between us and it wasn’t due to the wine.”

  Miguel opened his mouth then closed it again and let her go out the door. Frustration and anger at himself burned in his gut. He’d handled that as poorly as he’d handled anything in his life. There was no way he’d fire her. After being here such as short time, the other staff and patients had already begun to depend on her and asked for her when they arrived. Dammit. He was beginning to depend on her too, way more than he’d ever expected or wanted to.

  He didn’t need the complication of any relationship, let alone one with a coworker who happened to be from the richest family in the city. Yeah, that was just what he needed to make his life complete. What could he bring to a woman like Vicky anyway? Grief, a family history to rival any fictional account and unrelenting misery? No, the best thing was for them to maintain their professional relationship, and he’d have to forget about how remarkable she had felt in his arms.

  If he could.

  The rest of the week passed in a blur, with the days running together, the patients melding one into another, and finally the week ended on a particularly sour note.

  Their additional funding wasn’t going to come through. The city was functioning at a massive deficit and couldn’t find the money to assist the clinic. It simply wasn’t going to happen this year and possibly not for the next few years. Layoffs and cuts were inevitable for the city and now probably for the clinic, too.

  The staff sat in the waiting area after the last patient left on Friday night. Miguel looked around at the despondent group after he’d broken the news to them.

  “I’m really sorry to have to tell you all this, but I just found out that the current funding will only last us through July. The city won’t come through. After that, I can’t see how we’re going to be able to carry on.”

  “You’ve kept this plac
e going for years, M. You can keep it going now, can’t you?” Carlos asked, his wide eyes reflecting the shock in everyone else’s.

  “It’s not just what we do, but it’s the cost of supplies, the building maintenance and rent, which has gone up in the last two years and is now expected to go up again this year.” It was an endless source of frustration to him. No matter how hard he worked to keep the desperately needed clinic going, external forces seemed at odds with his plans.

  “How about that private fundraiser?” Vicky asked, her eyes guarded. She was calm, but he could see that she was thinking very hard about this. “I have an idea for one that could potentially keep the clinic going for years.”

  “Potentially?” Miguel asked, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Vicky, but for this we need a sure thing. These people aren’t going to get paid on a ‘maybe.’” He’d been disappointed so many times in the past by potential plans that never worked out. He didn’t want to risk any false hope on another one. “Anyone else have a brainstorm they want to share?”

  The rest of the staff perked up and there was an outcry among them. “Wait! Let’s hear what the lady has to say,” Carlos said. “She got us coffee and donuts, maybe she can help with this, too. You never know what kind of connections she could have.”

  “If there’s any idea worth hearing, Miguel, I say let’s hear it,” Tilly said. “Come on, Vicky, what is it?”

  She looked at Miguel and hesitated. He nodded. What the hell? “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  Vicky stood and faced the small group of people she had come to know over the past month or so. They were friends now. She knew she could trust them. “Well, I’ve been involved in some fundraising events in the past and it’s always easier to get a bunch of people to donate a small amount than it is to get fewer investors to commit to larger funds.” She tucked her hair behind her left ear. “Carlos, you’re partly right. My father knows some people and so does my brother. They’re people who live in this city and who might be able to help us out. They simply need to know about us.”

  “What kind of fundraiser are you talking about? It’s going to have to be big,” Tilly said with a cluck of her tongue. “If we intend to save this clinic, we need a lot of money, not loose change from people’s pockets.”

  “Insurance companies have dropped their reimbursements, the co-pays are going up and people are losing jobs, too. We all know how hard it is to make ends meet these days.” She looked around at the faces in front of her and saw the desperation, the will and the strength in each of them, and she wouldn’t want to let any of them, but especially Miguel, down. He’d been let down so many times that he needed someone to come through for him and she wanted to be that person, even if nothing else transpired between them. “If you can give me a couple of weeks, I can pull it together. I’m sure of it.”

  “We all expect you to give us jobs to do so you’re not doing everything by yourself,” Tilly said, and crossed her arms. “We’re in this together, Vicky.”

  “Agreed. I’ll do some preliminary planning and see what kind of numbers I can come up with then we’ll go from there.”

  Applause broke out in the little group and Vicky couldn’t keep the grin off her face. When she looked at Miguel, her heart nearly thumped its way out of her chest. The way he looked at her, the way his energy, his focus seemed to home in on her made her want to reach out to him, but he’d made his position clear.

  “I’ll give you two weeks. If it’s not coming together by then, I think we’ll need to make other plans.”

  Vicky stuck out her hand to Miguel. “Agreed.”

  “I say we head out. Not going to solve anything on a Friday night.” Tilly fished her purse from beneath her chair and stood. “See you all next week.”

  There was a mass exodus of staff. For once Carlos didn’t have a quick solution or a flip answer. In silence he slid out the door with the rest of them.

  “Hey,” Miguel said. “Can you give me an idea of what you’re planning? It would help me if I could know the details as soon as possible.”

  “Sure. What you need to do for a fundraiser like this is give the people a good time, that’s all. Music, food, some dancing. People enjoy getting dressed up for a good cause. Every year there are fundraisers in town that people look forward to, like the Chocolate Fantasy Ball. Maybe we could make this the first annual one for the clinic. I haven’t got it all figured out yet, but it will come together, don’t worry.”

  “There are so many things to worry about, Vicky. You don’t know how hard I worked to turn this place around. There simply isn’t money to purchase the building, and I’m afraid the owner won’t work out something that is in our best interests.”

  “Your hard work has shown, otherwise it wouldn’t be so full every day, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you take people with and without insurance. The simple answer may be a nonprofit status.” She got excited about that idea. “My older brother is an accountant, so I’ll talk to him about it, too.”

  Letting out a long sigh, Miguel rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m too tired to think about it right now. If you’re ready, I’ll walk you out.”

  She wanted to be able to say something to him, something that would ease his mind, but right now she didn’t have the words. She would have to prove it to him. “I’m ready.” She shouldered her purse and started toward the door, but they paused as it opened unexpectedly.

  Carlos burst into to the clinic with a surprised look on his face.

  “What, did you forget your backpack again?” Miguel said, but then some instinct, some sick feeling of dread bubbled up in him from a dark place in the past. He knew that look.

  “No.” Carlos held out a hand to Miguel. Blood dripped from his fingers. “I…” His eyes rolling back in his head, Carlos crumbled.

  Without even thinking about it, Miguel lunged forward to catch him before he hit the floor. A wave of adrenaline hit Miguel like a tsunami. Nothing else mattered. He had to save Carlos. Thank God Vicky hadn’t left yet, or he would have been more desperate than he already was.

  “Carlos!” Vicky screeched, and dived to the floor opposite Miguel. “What happened?” She fumbled in her pocket for her phone.

  “I don’t know, but he’s bleeding badly.”

  “I’ll get 911 on the way.” After a short conversation with the 911 operator, Vicky put the phone on speaker and sat it on the floor beside them to keep the line open.

  Every move Miguel made felt as if it was being made in slow motion and he were shrinking away into the past. Every instinct he possessed as a physician and a healer kicked in to overdrive, but seeing Carlos on the floor nearly paralyzed him. This scene was so familiar it sickened him and brought back the night that had forever changed him.

  “What are his injuries?” Vicky asked, and snapped on a pair of gloves.

  “I don’t know. He’s got blood on his shirt.” So much about Carlos reminded him of his brother. Until now, he hadn’t realized it. Looking down at Carlos was like looking down at Emilio dying in his arms again. Reaching out toward the shirt, his arms locked and his hands trembled.

  “Miguel? Miguel!” Vicky reached out and shook his arm. “Whatever is going on inside you right now has to be put aside. We have to focus on Carlos.”

  The sound of her voice pulled him from the past and with a monumental effort he shoved away the images of his dead brother. Vicky reached out and pushed the shirt up to expose Carlos’s torso.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE sight of a knife wound below the left rib cage stirred Miguel to action. There was a similar wound above his navel. “Dammit.” The blood flow from the larger wound was a dreadful sign. “He’s been cut deep, possibly the spleen.” That alone was life-threatening.

  “I’ll get the cart.” Vicky rushed into the trauma room and brought out the crash cart. “Everything we need is in here. We’ll save him, Miguel. We’ll save him.”

  Despite her brave words, he heard the
tremor in her voice. She was as uncertain as he.

  “Get a couple of big lines in him and all the fluid you got. He needs blood and surgery.” He reached up, snapped opened the drawer with dressing supplies in it and grabbed a handful of gauze. Applying pressure to the wound externally wasn’t going to help much when the injury was likely as deep as the spleen, but he had to do something. Dammit, there was so little that they could do.

  “Get some oxygen going, too,” Vicky said, without looking up from the IV she had just put into Carlos’s right arm. In seconds she had fluids going and was reaching for his left arm to put another in. Then she paused, hope surfacing in her eyes. “I know it’s not much, but what about a tampon?”

  “A tampon?” Miguel frowned, dumbfounded.

  “I read about marines using them for field dressings.”

  In that instant Miguel saw exactly where she was going with that thought. The expansion of a tampon deep inside the wound could provide some internal pressure that might slow down the bleeding and absorb some of the blood. “Do you have any?”

  “Purse.” She put in the second IV.

  Miguel grabbed her handbag, turned it upside down and shook everything out of it. He grabbed the three tampons that surfaced. “You’ll have to do it. I don’t know how to operate these things.”

  Without a word, Vicky handed the IV bags to Miguel and ripped open a tampon pack. With deft fingers, she inserted a tampon into the edge of the larger wound.

  “Go deeper.”

  Vicky’s trembling hands pushed the tampon an inch or two farther. “You have to push the tampon bit forward with the applicator.” After that, Miguel used his gauze to mop up the blood that had leaked out. The flow slowed to a trickle.

  He grinned, now feeling as if there was real hope for Carlos. “You did it!”

  Sirens cut the stifling air between them and the crews from an ambulance and fire emergency crashed through the front doors. The silence and isolation was fractured as new energy and people with purpose poured around them. The overwhelming relief that flashed through Miguel was a kind he’d never known. Now the tremors began in his gut and in his limbs. “He’s been stabbed, possibly into the spleen. Lots of bleeding.”