by Anne Fraser
Sparkly sunlight danced across Liz’s face, but she didn’t open her heavy eyelids. Her body felt deliciously warm inside, which seemed odd as she ached from the night’s activities. The night’s multiple activities.
Adam had been insatiable. A veritable tiger in bed. Lord, but she felt ravaged.
Thoroughly loved.
Smiling, she rolled onto her side, expecting to bump into his long, lean body.
She didn’t.
That’s when the quietness registered. No sounds of Adam breathing. No sensation of him being next to her.
Opening her eyes, only the imprint of where he’d slept remained in her bed. That and his spicy male scent.
A moment of panic raced through her, then she chided herself for her fear. He was probably in the bathroom. Or the living room. Or…he might have left.
She had to know.
Slipping out of the bed, she quickly discovered Adam wasn’t anywhere in the small house.
She dropped onto the sofa, her nose twitching at her barely touched salad from the night before. A tiny gnat landed on a wilted leaf, giving testament to the sad state of her morning.
Adam had left without waking her.
Clammy heat covered Liz’s body and she dry-heaved until her body ached.
CHAPTER FIVE
“BUENAS dias, Señora Sanchez,” Liz greeted the recovering gallbladder patient in room twelve. She gave the woman a bright smile and explained that she’d be assessing her every hour.
Liz went through the routine vitals and was pleased to find the drowsy Hispanic woman’s temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and respirations normal. She checked the three tiny surgical incision sites on her right upper quadrant.
“Everything looks wonderful,” she explained in Spanish. Although not fluent, she had taken enough courses and listened to enough tapes while sitting with Gramps that she usually communicated without too many problems.
She made proper notations in the chart and explained that if everything remained well, Dr Cline would be by soon to write discharge orders. Surgery in the morning, home in the afternoon. Thank you, HMOs.
Adam. No, she wasn’t going to think about him right now. It had been two days since he’d left her sleeping. She’d wanted to call him, to demand to know what was going on, but she hadn’t.
Neither had he called her.
After making sure her patient was comfortable, Liz poked her head into May Probst’s room. “How are you doing, May? Is there anything I can get for you?”
May hadn’t been assigned to her this morning, but Liz knew the pleasant older woman well. She’d been a friend of her grandparents and often volunteered at the hospital through the women’s auxillary. May had likely been the only true friend of Gramps to attend his funeral.
Unfortunately May had been having nausea for months that she’d written off as a peptic ulcer despite antacids only giving minimal relief. A few weeks ago she’d begun having stomach pain. Her abdominal CT had shown a questionable mass and Dr Mills, a young general surgeon whose father ran the hospital board with an iron fist, had performed exploratory laparoscopy that morning. Liz didn’t like the arrogant young surgeon, but perhaps that was because he’d taken an instant dislike to Adam. Liz suspected it was a top-dog kind of thing. Dr Mills had a long way to go before he’d be the same caliber surgeon as Adam.
Cautiously scooting up in her bed, May gave a kind smile. “Kelly’s taking good care of me so I can’t complain.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Liz moved to beside the bed and automatically raised the safety rail. “How did your procedure go? I’ve been swamped this morning and haven’t had a chance to ask anyone.”
May clasped her hands in her lap. “Dr Mills found my problem.”
“I’m glad.” But May’s eyes held an odd light. “What exactly did he find?”
“The radiologist who read my CT scan was right. I do have a tumor.”
Was May purposely being vague?
“Dr Mills removed it?”
“No,” she softly denied. Too softly.
“No?” Liz asked. Something must have gone wrong for the surgeon not to have taken out the tumor. Generally, while the patient was already under anesthesia and on the operating table, the mass would have been excised. “Why not?”
May hesitated a few moments before lifting brave eyes to Liz. “Apparently, it’s wrapped around my colon, ureter, renal artery, and perhaps my abdominal aorta.”
“Oh, May.” Liz covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, child. It’s not your fault.”
“Dr Mills is going to schedule excision soon?”
Removing such a mass would be difficult, risky. Perhaps prior to proceeding the surgeon planned to consult with a vascular surgeon, perhaps a nephrologist, too.
May shook her head. “He says it’s inoperable. That I’d die on the table and leaving it alone is my best option.” She smoothed the crisp white sheet covering her. She wore a brave expression, but Liz didn’t buy it.
“Your best option?” Liz scowled. “Is the tumor so slow growing that he doesn’t think it’ll kill you?”
May winced and Liz regretted her blunt statement. “I’m sorry, May. Sometimes I just want more aggressive treatments than those doctors deem the best option. I think you should get a second opinion by a more experienced surgeon.”
May nodded. “That’s OK. John wants a second opinion, too.”
“Good. Get a second opinion. A third one, too, if necessary. I’m biased, but Dr Cline is an excellent surgeon.” Excellent at breaking hearts, too, but May didn’t need to know that. No matter what happened between her and Adam, he was by far the best surgeon in the area. “Perhaps you can schedule an appointment and let him look over your CT and Dr Mills’s notes.”
May nodded. “Dr Cline was my first choice, but he rescheduled my appointment first due to your grandfather and then again due to something personal. John didn’t want me to wait another week and I ended up seeing Dr Mills.”
Liz tried to hide her surprise. Adam had rescheduled appointments beyond the days he’d taken off with her following Gramps’s death? Why would he do that? Where had he gone? What had he done?
Who was he with?
“John wants me to go to a larger hospital,” May continued, oblivious to the turmoil rocketing through Liz. “One in Jackson.”
Liz doubted Jackson held a finer surgeon than Adam, but refrained from saying so. The thought of him rescheduling patients had her mind spinning.
“Just you get that second opinion,” she said firmly in an effort to hide her dismay.
“Enough about me.” The older woman waved her hand dismissively, as if her problems were no big deal. “How are you holding up?”
Maybe she hadn’t hidden her dismay so well.
For the briefest of moments Liz thought May was asking about the gaping hole in her chest, but no one knew about that. Fortunately Kelly had been spending quite a bit of time with Jason. Liz hadn’t seen her friend until that morning, by which time she’d sort of pulled herself together and hadn’t had to explain why her heart was so tattered. Kelly had asked, but they’d been interrupted and Liz hadn’t been forced to go into any details.
Until May’s revelation about Adam rescheduling appointments, she’d done a good job holding her act together.
May asked about her grandfather, though.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Considering everything. “I miss Gramps, but am trying to remember the good times we shared and move on with my life.”
True. Regardless of what was going on with Adam, Liz would move forward with her life. For years she’d put her grandfather first, had planned to put Adam first for the rest of her life, but if he didn’t want her love, she’d still find happiness. Perhaps she’d travel, see a bit of the world as a traveling nurse.
May looked pleased. “It’s what he’d have wanted.”
“Yes.” Gramps had wanted great things
for her. Great things like Adam.
She bit the inside of her lip and forced her thoughts elsewhere.
She chatted with May for a few more minutes, made sure she was comfortable, then went to check on her own patients.
Liz was pleased to find them all recovering as expected without complications. Two of her five patients were Adam’s, which meant she’d have to see him.
Her stomach lurched at the thought. God, she wished whatever was going on with her stomach would pass. She’d taken a handful of antacids yesterday and had obtained a little relief, but this morning her nausea had been right back. Truthfully, her stomach hadn’t been right since Gramps’s funeral. No wonder. She missed him so much. And then all this with Adam.
Stress definitely took its toll on a person’s body but hopefully her nausea would soon pass and her appetite would return.
Recalling May, she decided that if her symptoms persisted much longer she’d have to see a doctor just to get reassurance.
“Everything OK with your patients?” Kelly asked when Liz arrived at the nurses’ station. Her friend eyed her with worry.
“All’s well at the moment.”
Both nurses knew how quickly that could change.
Kelly punched her personal code into the medicine cart that tracked each nurse opening the medicine dispensing device. “I’m going to administer this, and then you’re going to tell me what you have planned for this weekend. Jason’s having a cookout and I want you to come if you aren’t busy.”
This weekend? Liz racked her brain, trying to recall what was going on the upcoming weekend. The fourth of July. She’d be working a twelve-hour shift on Saturday and Sunday.
The previous year’s Fourth of July celebration sprang into her mind. She closed her eyes, picturing Adam and herself sitting on a blanket in the city park. They’d been holding hands, staring up at the bright, exploding lights in the sky. Adam had leaned in, kissed her in the magical way he had that had made fireworks rivaling those in the night sky go off inside her chest.
“Liz?”
She opened her eyes and stared into the object of her fantasy’s blue eyes. He still looked tired, but it was so wonderful to see him that Liz fought throwing her arms around him. “Adam.”
She hadn’t seen him since they’d made love. Since he’d held her, kissed her, admitted he needed her. Unfortunately, she barely recognized him as the same man who’d made love to her. He looked grumpy.
“Were you daydreaming?” He frowned, appearing for all the world like he couldn’t stand being near her. “Your mind should be on your job.”
Liz did a double-take. Not once had Adam or any doctor had cause to complain about her treatment of any of the patients in her care. Not once. Regardless of what was going on, or not going on, between them personally, she hadn’t expected him to attack her professionally.
“Pardon?” she asked, thinking that perhaps she’d misread his tone, his look. Maybe she was being overly sensitive because she was so hurt he’d left without waking her.
“Lives are in your hands.” He didn’t meet her eyes, but instead scribbled something on a notepad. “You shouldn’t be daydreaming.”
“I wasn’t.” But she had been, she thought guiltily. Daydreaming about him when he so obviously didn’t want her to be.
But why wouldn’t he even meet her eyes? Why did she get the impression he was hiding something from her? That he’d been hiding something for weeks? Something beyond his hot and cold attitude toward her?
Yes, he’d left her house without saying her goodbye, but she loved him, wanted him in her life, and wasn’t giving up without a fight.
Regardless of what had changed, Adam did have feelings for her. She knew he did. She wasn’t going to let whatever was happening between them tear them apart without at least fighting for their relationship.
“Perhaps I was daydreaming just a little,” she admitted, giving what she hoped was a bright smile. “Kelly mentioned the Fourth of July and I was thinking back to last year.” She willed him to look at her and as if he felt the force of her thoughts, his gaze met hers. “You kissed me for the first time that weekend. Do you remember?”
He looked startled that she hadn’t reacted to his antagonistic remark. Had that been what he’d been hoping for? A fight? His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak, didn’t say whether he remembered or not. No matter, she knew he did. Memories were written all over his face. Memories and emotion. Raw emotion.
His gaze traveled over her face, settled on her lips. He remembered. And wanted to kiss her even now.
She studied his handsome face, the crow’s-feet near his eyes that seemed more deeply etched than she recalled, the fatigue weighing down his expression, the bleakness in his eyes that had disappeared when they’d made love. Desperately she wished she could read his mind, know his thoughts, understand what was driving his recent behavior.
“Adam, why didn’t you wake me before you left the other morning?”
If she’d shocked him by refusing to fight with him, her blunt question shocked him more. She saw something akin to remorse flicker across his face, but before he answered the unit secretary buzzed her to the room of a patient whose IV machine alarm was sounding. She replaced her beeper and turned to ask Adam if they could grab a bite together and talk when she went on break.
He wasn’t there.
Glancing down the hallway, she watched him nod at something Kelly said and disappear with her best friend into a patient’s room.
Liz bit into her lower lip. What was going on? Nothing made sense. Adam’s actions said one thing, his eyes another.
Her beeper buzzed in her pocket again and with another quick glance toward the room Adam had disappeared into she went to reset Mrs Sanchez’s IV.
Kelly at his side, Adam greeted his patient, then paused beside her bed.
How much longer could he do this?
The truth was, he was only delaying the inevitable, but he hadn’t been able to utter the words to tell Liz it was over the other night.
He cursed his own weakness, wishing he could blame that, too, on his MS, but he couldn’t.
“She’s running a low-grade temperature, but all her other vitals are normal.” Kelly cut into Adam’s self-derision.
How could he have fussed at Liz for daydreaming and then done the same minutes later?
“Dr Cline?” Kelly said again.
He shook off his melancholy and checked his patient, assessing her closely for signs of infection to go along with the temperature. Not finding any, he gave Kelly discharge orders with instructions for the patient to contact his office immediately if her temperature spiked or any new problems developed.
With dread he left the hospital room and prepared to face Liz. Since Kelly, walking beside him and chatting away, said Mrs Arnold was the only one of his patients she had been assigned, the other two must be under Liz’s care.
Immediately, he spotted her waiting outside Mrs Arnold’s room.
Kelly shot Liz a knowing smile, which Liz nervously returned before meeting Adam’s gaze. Kelly elbowed him, then headed toward the nurses’ station.
Adam refused to name the emotion pulsing through him at the sight of Liz, standing in the hallway, looking unsure whether to slap him or kiss him.
She was hurt, confused. He could see it on her face, in her golden brown eyes. She deserved so much better than what he was giving her.
“Liz,” he started, then paused. He couldn’t flat out say they were finished in the middle of the hospital hallway, but he couldn’t give her reason to think they’d work through this either.
“Mrs Sanchez is ready to be discharged, but I’m not so sure about Robert Keele,” Liz said in a professional tone, her spine straight. However, her gaze couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than personal. She wanted to know what was going on and wouldn’t sidestep the issues any longer.
He needed to put some distance between them.
“Whether or not Mrs Sanchez is rea
dy to be discharged is for me to decide. Not you.”
Liz’s eyes widened. She gave him a doe-caught-in-the-headlights stare. A doe who had just been fatally struck by the hunter she’d mistakenly trusted. Him.
He could do this. No matter that his insides wrenched. No matter that his heart felt like it might explode. No matter that he’d rather die than hurt her this way.
She pinned him with her stare. “Have I done something to upset you? I know I’ve been distracted with Gramps’s death. If I’ve said or done something wrong, I’m sorry.”
He cursed the disease running through his body, the disease that made reassuring Liz wrong.
“I’ve got several patients to see and need to get back to my office for afternoon clinic. We’ll talk later.” He turned, kept his back as stiff as hers had been, and entered Robert Keele’s room.
Determined to focus on his patient rather than the stunned woman he’d left in the hallway, he greeted the man he’d done a hernia repair on earlier that morning. “How’s your pain this afternoon?”
“I hurt, but I expected to,” the fifty-three-year-old said, scooting up onto his pillow, wincing in the process.
“Be careful,” his wife warned from the uncomfortable-looking chair pushed up next to the hospital bed. “You don’t want to pop anything open.”
“Definitely not,” Adam agreed, although he’d done a good job with Robert’s procedure and the site wouldn’t easily “pop open”. He pulled back the thin white blanket so he could check the repair site.
Liz entered the room, but Adam refused to look her way, refused to acknowledge her presence despite every single cell in his body crying out for him to look at her, hold her, love her. He continued to examine Mr Keele and was pleased with what he found.
“I last changed his dressing about thirty minutes ago,” Liz said from beside Adam. Her voice was almost emotionless, cluing him in to the fact that she fought tears.
He knew every little nuance about this woman. That she’d learned long ago to keep a tight rein on her emotions when in public, but that tonight her tears would flow. Because of him.
He bit back an apology.