One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series)

by Norfleet, Celeste

  Colonel Wheeler continued to shake his head. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  Louise thought for a moment then smiled, perhaps conflict was inevitable. Raymond is a very strong willed man but, to her credit, Dr. Adams appeared to be able to hold her own. “No, dear,” she took his hand, “I have a feeling that this will work out just fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Louise smiled happily. “Aren’t I always.”

  Otis kissed her forehead. “Yes dear, you are. But I have to warn you, don’t get your hopes up. This time it doesn’t look promising.”

  “Trust me.”

  Colonel Wheeler nodded doubtfully as he thought about Louise’s last matchmaking plan. She was right about her other grandson Tony and his wife Madison. Now those two were an impossible match. But, somehow Louise found a way and everything worked out. Wheeler leaned down and kissed her forehead again. That’s why he adored this very special woman. She had a heart of gold with just enough mischief in it to make his life interesting.

  Suddenly the door opened.

  Raymond angrily marched in. “That woman is impossible,” he declared, as Louise slyly looked at Wheeler. “How she successfully got through med school I have no idea. She must have gotten her degree on Riker’s Island or Alcatraz. She has the finesse of a storm trooper, the temperament of General Patton and the tact of a raging bull.”

  Raymond paced the floor angrily continuing to rant. “Do you believe that she had the audacity to refuse my consultation on your case? Can you believe that? She wants me to sign in and out like some kind of...of...visitor.” Louise looked at Wheeler. Her eyes twinkled.

  Colonel Wheeler nodded his agreement and relented to her matchmaking mastery. Yes, he thought to himself, she had done it again. It was only a matter of time before Raymond would realize that he was a goner. But by then, it would be too late. Colonel Wheeler chuckled to himself and wondered how long it would take for Raymond to recognize that his cleverness at eluding his grandmother’s set-ups had been a complete waste of time. He had literally stormed right into her plan.

  Chapter Five

  Hope slammed the patient file on the nearest desk and plopped down in the nearest chair. She perched her elbows on the armrests, closed her eyes, then swirled the swivel chair around in several complete circles. The light-headed dizzy feeling instantly distracted her.

  She’d just had another useless talk with her favorite frequent flyer patient. The conversation went around in circles much like the chair she was now spinning around in. It had been futile to point out the dangers of staying in an abusive relationship. She knew her patient put her life in jeopardy each time she went back home. Yet, instead of seeing the potential for disaster, she merely validated her husband’s brutal behavior. Hope shook her head dismayed as the pointless conversation rang in her mind.

  “Mrs. Jackson, Leanne,” Hope softened her tone and continued patiently, “it’s very evident that your abrasions are not accidental or self-inflicted.”

  Leanne ran her fingers through her limp mousy brown hair and looked away. She shifted her frail-looking body uncomfortably in the hospital bed. “I don’t understand,” she stammered and lowered the ice pack from her brow.

  “I think you do.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted as she pulled on the blood stained t-shirt nervously.

  Hope reiterated slowly so as not to be misunderstood. “You didn’t have an accident as you claim, and you didn’t do this to yourself, and you didn’t fall down a flight of stairs.” She moved closer to the head of the bed and lowered her voice. “Mrs. Jackson, we’re here to help you. If there’s something you’d like to tell me, please, now is the time to speak up. I assure you, no one here will judge you. There are people here who will help you, protect you.”

  “Nobody can help me,” Leanne muttered. Tears welled in her eyes and tumbled down her bruised cheek. She raised her cast wrapped around her arm to wipe her face. She winced at the resulting pain. Although the swelling had subsided considerably, the discoloration around her eye could not be helped.

  Leanne looked at the print on the far wall. It was of a log cabin surrounded by a dense forest at the base of snow-capped mountains. It was the most beautiful thing she’d seen in a long time. She cried in earnest. “He,” she rasped out tearfully. “He…”

  “Take your time,” Hope encouraged her comfortingly.

  “He,” she began again then paused and turned to look at Hope. Embarrassment and shame clouded her face. “I fell and hit my head on the doorknob.”

  Hope, holding her breath, exhaled then nodded regretfully. “I see.”

  “I can’t,” Leanne looked away hurriedly. “I fell down.”

  “I understand,” Hope offered truthfully. “When you’re ready, someone will be here for you. I promise you that.”

  Hope slowly turned away and opened the door to leave. Just before the latch clicked she heard the sobbing again as her patient continued whispering, “I can’t. I can’t.”

  The memory of their conversation swirled and mingled into a colorless blur of hopelessness. She reached up and stroked the side of her face. Old memories of a forgotten past threatened to creep up. Frustrated, Hope spun the chair around again as her own childhood memories came in a flood of dark imagery.

  “No!” It began as it always had. He was drunk, she was accessible. “Don’t, please don’t.” She wailed, pleading in vain as he continued to strike out. The large fist swung high into the endless night. It hovered a moment in recrimination. Then it fell, leveling solidly against the side of her face. The cries of torment wailed as two young girls huddled in the corner listening to the screams of anguish.

  STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! She repeated over and over again in the child’s desperate voice. She watched the fist raise a third, fourth, fifth time.

  He was drunk, she was there.

  “Stop it!” Hope yelled from across the room. Propelled by anger she lashed out in a whirlwind of tiny fists as she jumped onto his back. She held tightly as the bucking beast tossed her from side to side then across the room through the plate glass window.

  She heard the voices as they shouted. Darkness engulfed her as she floated in cool white light.

  Hope spun the chair around sending the memories back where they belonged, back to the recesses of her childhood. Several nurses who’d been standing at the counter talking looked over briefly then immediately went back to their conversation. Hope spun the chair several more times before she heard the familiar throat clearing of Dr. Scott Wallace.

  Scott had graduated at the top of his med school class, interned at Johns Hopkins, and did his residency here at Golden Heart. Yet, with all his renown, he had little sensitivity as far as doctors were concerned. In all his years as a physician, he had yet to learn that doctors were people too with the same pain as the people they try to help.

  Scott, whose facial features rivaled a Disney character, was a large man with an even larger personality. Often referred to as Big Foot, he was hairy with huge bushy brows that moved in synch when he spoke. His keen piercing blue eye, ever watchful, saw and observed everything in a single glance.

  The butt of many ER jokes and pranks, he was oblivious to most things. He was perfectly suited for his position, clinical, professional and detached. His only fault, as far as Maxine said, was his inability to loosen up.

  Hope smiled. Divine justice would be to send him on a blind date with Maxine. That would definitely loosen him up.

  “Surely, you can find better use of your time Dr. Adams,” he chastised firmly. “This is a hospital, not an amusement park.” Dropping an octave or two, he spoke with his usual deep purposeful commanding inflection made more pronounced by his pompous, self-righteous attitude. Hope opened her eyes and with great difficulty focused them on her colleague.

  She looked at him and smiled menacingly. Her first instinct was to lash out, but the spinning had left her more unsteady th
an she first realized. She glared at him before a broad smile spread wide across her face. Remembering an old vaudevillian response, she cocked her head to the side and said, “Don’t call me Shirley.”

  Giggles and chuckles arose from the nurses standing at their station nearby. Scott gaped in stunned surprise. He expected the usual sarcastic remark. He hadn’t expected a comedy routine.

  Tiny gurgling sounds emanated as words choked in his throat. She grinned politely, spun the chair a final time before stopping with her legs neatly tucked under the desk. Unable to articulate his displeasure, Scott looked to the nurses fiercely. They instantly dispersed.

  “Dr. Adams, your unprofessional behavior with your patient’s guest must be reported. Your voice could be heard all the way down the hall.” Hope remained silent.

  “I’m afraid I have no alternative be to inform Hugh.”

  “Whatever,” she mumbled as he marched away. She knew that another reprimand had just been added to her employment record. But at this point, it was the last thing she cared about.

  Almost everyone knew that she and Hugh had a history, but no one knew exactly what that history was. As far as Hope was concerned, the past should be left in the past, but apparently Hugh had different ideas. Oftentimes openly hostile, he made it a point to have her assigned to the worst shifts and most difficult patients. He did everything within his power, which was considerable, to publicly belittle and embarrass her.

  Hope was still amazed that of all the hospitals in the country, Hugh was assigned to this one. Apparently fate had a wicked sense of humor.

  Hope sat staring at the light box. With several frustrated clicks she toggled it on and off several times before Maxine plopped down next to her holding a medical chart.

  “You and Scott playing nicely?”

  Hope looked in the general direction that Dr. Wallace had gone. “He’s such a joke.”

  “You’re playing a dangerous game. You know Scott and Hugh go way back. They even worked together at Johns Hopkins. So if Scott catches you doing anything wrong, you can best believe that Hugh will hear about it.”

  Hope gave her a do I really care at this point look. Maxine shook her head. “Girlie, don’t you know that Hugh can hurt your career?” Hope’s expression didn’t change. Maxine continued to shake her head as they watched Scott shuffle from room to room.

  “Sometimes I wonder why he even became a doctor.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons,” Maxine answered matter-of-factly.

  “With his lack of personality, he’s probably not good at anything else.”

  Maxine chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I heard of few things he’d be good at.” She smirked and raised her brow suggestively.

  An unexpected laugh took Hope by surprise. Several heads turned in her direction as she tried to control herself.

  “No way, get out of here.” Hope laughed loudly.” I don’t want to hear it.”

  “That’s the word,” Maxine assured her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. The man lives by rules and regulations. I bet he doesn’t have a spontaneous bone in his body.”

  “Spontaneity and talent are two very different things dear.” She watched Scott as he walked by completely oblivious to their conversation. “Some women might consider him a hottie.”

  “Scott, a hottie?” Hope whispered in disbelief.

  “Why not? Particularly if he has skills…”

  “That’s enough.” Hope raised her hand to end the conversation. “I don’t want that image in my head. What are you trying to do, erase everything I learned in med school? Exactly who starts all of these rumors anyway?”

  “I do, of course,” she said with a straight face.

  Hope looked at Maxine not believing a word she’d said. Maxine had a reputation. She’d once had an affair with a well-known former governor and a New York senator. Married several times, her first marriage was at the age of fifteen. She collected alimony checks like others collected stamps.

  “When do you have to get out of your sublet?” Maxine asked as she motioned toward the apartment rental section of the newspaper sitting on the counter.

  “I have another few months.”

  “Find anything you like?” she asked as she opened the folder and made a medical notation.

  “No, not yet.”

  “You know, I’ll be happy to make room for you at Stonehenge,” Maxine said, referring to several apartment buildings she owned between First and Second Avenues. Once rundown tenements, she had managed to turn them into middle-class housing for several area families.

  Hope smiled at the offer. “Thank you Maxine, but I think it’s time I find a more permanent place. I can’t keep subletting forever.”

  Maxine nodded then looked up at the entrance. “Hubby’s here,” she said as she watched a large muscular man dressed in dirty garage clothes push through the security doors. He stood in the middle of the waiting area and looked around. Then he began searching for his wife looking into all the open examination rooms.

  “Crap, already?”

  “Yep, and I’m sure he wants to know when his wife will be ready to leave.” She scanned the appropriate page then slid it in front of Hope.

  “I seriously have to go bowling.”

  “You and me both girl. You and me both.”

  With a slight smile Hope sat back realizing that her recent battle with Raymond Gates was minor compared to some of the other issues in the ER. Aggravated, she blew her limp curls from her brows and dropped her head into her hands. She looked at her watch. It was nearly six in the morning. “Send him home. I’m keeping her the rest of the day and overnight for observation.”

  “Can’t do that,” Maxine said.

  Hope turned to face her. Her expression was quizzically. “Why not?”

  Maxine reached over and flipped several pages forward in the medical chart. She tapped her pen several times at a particular form. “Her insurance doesn’t cover hospitalization.”

  “She’s stayed overnight before.”

  “That’s before hubby dropped her from his policy. She belongs to the state now.”

  Hope laughed aloud out of sheer frustration. She shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding.” He beats her then takes her off his medical policy?”

  “Yep, that’s right.”

  “Is there any way to get around it?”

  “Nope. The state won’t pay for it without medical cause.”

  “I have medical cause. Her husband beats her. She stays.”

  “Scott will have a fit.”

  “What else is new?”

  “He’ll tell Hugh.”

  “What else is new?” She repeated.

  Maxine sighed heavily. “Well, if she’d actually admit that her hubbie beat her we could suggest a lovely bed in a woman’s shelter for the next few days. But, we both know she’d never file charges.”

  “True.”

  Maxine gathered the folder and stood. “Well?”

  Hope took a deep breath and sighed miserably. “Get the discharge papers ready.” Maxine silently nodded and walked away. Hope followed her with her eyes until she noticed the same two nurses standing by the opening of Mrs. Gates room. She stood and walked over to the doorway. “Is there a problem ladies?”

  Both women jumped instantly, and disbursed.

  Chapter Six

  “Damn it, what’s taking so long?” Raymond stopped pacing just long enough to slam is fist against his open palm then began pacing again. He walked to the open door and glanced out just in time to see Hope disappear into another patient’s room after speaking to a nurse. “It shouldn’t take this long.”

  “Raymond would just sit still and relax,” Louise said. “Your constant pacing is making me dizzy.”

  Colonel Wheeler, having long since resolved himself to lengthy waits, flipped through a golf magazine he’d found in the family waiting area. He looked up briefly then focused his attention back to the outdated magazine. He chuc
kled to himself and shook his head.

  Usually the cool calm type, it was out of character for Raymond to be so anxious. Good-humored by nature, he was known for his calm, controlled demeanor which suited him as a surgeon. To see his total lack of patience was eye-opening, to say the least. The mere sight of Raymond angrily pacing back and forth had kept Colonel Wheeler amused for the past hour.

  “Oh this is ridiculous. It’s like being in the DMV, nothing takes this long. Where the hell is she?” Raymond stood at the door and watched Hope as she talked with another doctor then with a nurse. She sat at the desk examining something in front of her. Raymond frowned then turned back into the room and continued pacing.

  “Raymond Gates Jr., would you please stay still and sit down. Your constant pacing and complaining is driving me crazy,” Louise blurted out. Raymond walked across the room and scanned the numerous monitor read outs. “Raymond, sit, now,” Louise ordered firmly.

  Frustrated, Raymond looked over to Colonel Wheeler. He was chuckling softly and shaking his head which was still buried in a magazine. Raymond exasperated, picked up the hospital chart, sat down in the nearest chair and read Hope’s notes again.

  He carefully reviewed each notation. With the available data, medical history and the various results of the tests, he came to the same medical conclusion as Hope. Acute gastritis would possibly explain the chest pains. And as for the hives, she indicated it was something Louise had ingested. Therefore she recommended a series of allergy tests. For the first time in almost ninety minutes he breathed a sigh of relief.

  He continued to read the extended details of her test results and prescribed treatment. Raymond agreed with Hope’s basic preventive health plan. Her medical diagnosis was sound and her extended prognosis was thorough.

  He was just about to close the chart when an added notation caught his attention. Possible LP macrotentioneda.

  He wasn’t familiar with the term.

  Acronyms were common in the medical profession, particularly in the ER. There, they were critical. Ray frowned. He’d been a doctor and around physicians his whole life. He was unfamiliar with this particular term. Just as he stood to inquire as to its meaning, his cell phone rang. He’d forgotten to turn his cellular phone off as he entered the building. He flipped open the telephone on the second ring. “Gates.”