“I can’t dismiss Mrs. Cole’s allegations. She and Marcus are major contributors, the next generation of the Cole Family Foundation. Let’s face it; we’d be in trouble if they pulled out. With Morgan, one never knows what is going on in that gorgeous little head of hers, I can’t take the chance! I didn’t enjoy doing this, Bernie—seriously. But it is what it is.”
Bernie shook his head. “Retirement is sounding better by the minute,” he muttered, and for the first time he could remember in what seemed like ages, felt like cussing.
Clay shrugged. “Mrs. Hastings won’t be reprimanded and nothing will go on her record. Its politics—plain and simple—and sometimes they’re dirty. I don’t like them either, but I have to do what’s best for the hospital. We can always find nurses. Generous benefactors like the Coles, well; they don’t come along every day and fund projects we need for this hospital. No, I will do whatever it takes to assure that we stay in their good graces.”
“Clay, the Coles are loaded, on every ‘Who’s Who’ list there is, yet they don’t take their child home when they could easily afford a whole team of nurses to look out for Angela. Why is that? She’s been doing great and should be home. Don’t you find it a bit strange that they don’t seem to want her around?” Bernie doubted his words would have any affect in the matter, but he chose to speak his mind.
“That’s not my concern,” Clay replied, a distinct edge to his voice that left no opening for further discussion of the matter.
The elevator door opened and both men got into the car. “Perhaps it should be your concern,” Bernie retorted, as his eyes met Doctor Parmenter’s. He was unwilling to back down just yet. “Something is very wrong with this whole situation. I’m sure you already know that Mrs. Cole gave me an earful this morning. She’s throwing her influence around to get her way in this because she’s certain she can. It’s nothing more than a vendetta. I hope you know what you’re doing—Kenni Hastings is the most conscientious nurse we have. It would serve us right if she went elsewhere; I’m sure there are several good hospitals that would love to have her on board.”
“She’s just another nurse,” Clay countered flatly. He had grown bored with the conversation, considered the matter to be closed.
When the elevator doors opened to the main lobby, Clay Parmenter hurried out of the car, leaving Bernie to frown after him.
Chapter 5
No matter how Kenni tried to get rid of the tension she felt, a persistent, unpleasantly anxious feeling in her stomach tagged along with her as she stepped off the elevator. She arrived for her appointment with Doctor Parmenter at precisely nine o’clock. She wondered why he had summoned her to what she deemed a mysterious meeting. She had not mentioned anything to Jeb about the meeting because she didn’t want him to worry about what she hoped would turn out to be something minor, or maybe even something good. Jeb always had a full load of patients and problems to be solved, and Kenni tried not to burden him with problems if she could help it.
She took a steadying breath as she entered the Chief of Staff’s office for the first time. Kenni immediately saw that the furnishings, wall coverings and flooring were of a much higher quality than the accoutrements of the offices downstairs, as if each descending floor became more and more Spartan in its decor. Parmenter’s secretary’s work area had beautiful, plush carpeting in a deep maroon shade and was so cushiony beneath her feet that Kenni’s Crocs sank into it. An upholstered sofa with an Oriental woven pattern and two matching high-backed chairs sat back against the foil-papered wall in the corner near a large window covered by vertical blinds. The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated what looked to Kenni to be an antique, cherry wood coffee table that displayed several glossy editions of medical periodicals, and a tall, silk palm tree that looked astonishingly real was the finishing touch to the corner.
A fiftyish-looking woman with long, gray spiral curls that brushed against her slender shoulders sat behind the desk, and was known to everyone as Brenda. Her fingers had logged countless hours of typing over the years and now danced rapidly across the computer keyboard. Brenda looked up and over her reading glasses as the door opened when Kenni walked in, and smiled cordially.
Kenni wasn’t sure Brenda knew her name; they had never spoken more than “hello” or “good morning” to one another as they passed in the halls, or while in line at the cafeteria, but they knew each other on sight. “Good morning, Brenda,” she greeted her while quietly closing the windowless wooden door behind her. “I’m Kenni Hastings. I don’t think you and I have ever been formally introduced. I’m here for a nine o’clock with Doctor Parmenter.”
“You’re right; I don’t believe we’ve actually been introduced, but I know you by reputation. Don’t worry, it’s all good,” Brenda replied, gesturing toward a closed door behind her work station. “He’s expecting you, Kenni. You can go on in.”
Kenni nodded as Brenda immediately returned to her typing, forcing herself to move forward on legs that felt more like unyielding hardwood than muscle, bone, and flesh. She hesitated for a second and wished she did not have to open the door. Just go ahead and knock on the stupid door, she ordered herself.
“Come in.”
Kenni took another deep breath as she entered the office and closed the door behind her. Doctor Clay Parmenter, king of his domain, sat in a large, charcoal leather chair behind an enormous oak desk. His chair was very large, and Kenni thought it might be capable of swallowing someone as petite as herself. Behind the desk there stood a matching credenza that housed his computer, several impressive awards set in Lucite, an autographed baseball and pictures of a beautiful woman with dark hair standing beside a teenaged boy in a red Troy High School basketball uniform.
To the left of his desk, the wall showcased numerous photographs of Doctor Parmenter with several Ohio Governors, with the successive Mayors of Troy, and standing beside the current US Congressional Representative from Ohio, his personal friend, the Honorable Jonathan W. Morehead, in front of the historic Miami County Courthouse. Parmenter’s diplomas and degrees were also displayed, each one meticulously framed and perfectly spaced. At the center of this gallery was hung an ornately framed picture of a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, who smiled as he stood between an older man and woman. The couple beamed in that way only proud parents could and Kenni deduced that the future Doctor Parmenter was the young man.
His expression unreadable, Doctor Parmenter looked up at Kenni and motioned her to sit in her choice of the trio of black leather armchairs in front of his desk. Then he folded his hands atop his desk and waited for her to sit down.
“Good morning,” Kenni managed, displeased by the shaky, weak sound of the voice that had squeaked out of her mouth. She placed her hands in her lap and forced herself not to clench them together. She was uncomfortable under the cold scrutiny of his stare. That he intimidated her would be an understatement, but she didn’t understand why she felt that way. She recalled meeting him at a fundraiser she had attended with Jeb, a formal affair at the Sheraton in Dayton. He had been cordial, not exactly what one would call “friendly”, but nice enough.
“Good Morning, Mrs. Hastings,” he acknowledged in a blasé tone of voice. He did not smile or make any discernable attempt to put her at ease. “Thank you for being so prompt. We all have entirely too much on our plates these days—it makes us less efficient. I know how hard nurses work, and I promise to have you back to your department in a jiffy.”
Kenni nodded, wondering what on earth had she done, good or bad, to warrant this meeting, and could not come up with a single thing. “We have an excellent team in our department.” She immediately wished she had not made what she thought was a dumb remark born out of sheer nervousness, that she had something more interesting to say instead of remarking about the quality of the team. He was staring at her intently, and it hurt not to break eye contact, but she willed herself to continue staring back into his unusual and surprisingly mesmerizing, yet cold-lookin
g eyes.
“Mrs. Hastings, I’ll get to the point and hope you’ll understand.”
The word “understand” caused her to raise one eyebrow in suspicion.
“I’m not sure how well acquainted you are with the politics of running a hospital such as Brannan’s Point Pediatric. The short and sweet version is that in scope the needs are overwhelming, and sometimes, unpleasant politics are involved. Most of the time, no one is even the slightest bit aware of them,” he told her in an easy, yet firm voice. “And then, there are times when they present themselves in all their hideous glory, and must be dealt with, whether we like what we must do or not.”
Kenni struggled with the tension mounting in her shoulders, creeping painfully upward into her neck as she felt herself stiffen. She wondered, what hideous glory? What is he talking about? “I’m sorry, Doctor Parmenter, but I have no idea where you’re going with this.”
Her superior was unaffected by the big, somewhat fearful blue eyes looking up at him from beneath a fringe of auburn bangs. “Succinctly, I’ve had a complaint from Morgan Cole.”
Kenni’s pulse quickened, her mouth went dry. “Seeing as I’m the one in your office, I can only presume that it’s about me.”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. You see, Mrs. Cole has requested that I remove you from her daughter’s care team. All you really need to know is that I’m granting her request.”
“All I need to know?” She had not intended to say it aloud, but the words slipped out. His matter-of-fact, condescending tone stung Kenni like a cold slap in the face. “May I ask why I’m being removed?”
“Mrs. Cole feels that you are deliberately causing a rift between her and her daughter, and that you are far too close to the child to make unbiased decisions. She is most concerned about the situation and feels your close involvement with the girl is, in her words, ‘inappropriate’. In case you have forgotten, let me remind you that one must never become so personally involved with a patient that objectivity gets lost. I trust we’ll not have to speak of this again.”
“Inappropriate?” Kenni shook her head. “With all due respect, sir, that’s hogwash.”
Doctor Parmenter ignored her remark. Ice-like eyes flashed like lightning. “Effective immediately, you are no longer the primary on Angela Cole’s care team. Further, you are not to be around her if the task can be handled by another nurse. I trust we understand each other and I won’t have Mrs. Cole in here again to lodge additional complaints against you. That’s all there is to the matter. Do your job, and we’ll get along fine.”
Kenni grew angry and stared down at her lap for a second or two before she once more met Doctor Parmenter’s intimidating stare, into eyes that gave nothing at all away beyond a hint of annoyance that she was still there despite his having dismissed her. “You are severely limiting what kind of care and emotional support I can provide to this patient. I want to go on record as being in complete disagreement with Mrs. Cole, and with the way you’ve decided to resolve the issue.” Despite her anxiety, she spoke in a clear, steady voice. “I am a dedicated professional, Doctor—nothing more, nothing less. I’ve been on staff here since I graduated from nursing school. My record is exemplary!”
He didn’t know why she seemed to be fighting against something that would never show up in her personnel file. “Please understand that this is not a reprimand, nor will anything relating to this be made a part of your personnel record. Just accept it, Mrs. Hastings, as an edict from senior staff and move on.”
“Then what is it if not a reprimand?” she persisted even though she already knew the answer. Morgan and Marcus Cole were very important to the hospital’s financial outlook—more important than a mere nurse, and Morgan always got what she wanted.
There was a definite and unmistakable flicker of annoyance in his flinty eyes. “You are grossly over-reacting, Mrs. Hastings. This is very simple, really—merely a matter of honoring the request of someone very important to our Board. As far as my decision goes, this is not personal toward you and I will not argue with you about it. It’s done. Simply accept that I’ve made a decision you have to abide by, and get on with your life, with your work.”
Kenni’s heart was heavy, not only for herself but for Angela who was, perhaps, the loneliest patient on her floor. She knew the other nurses loved the little girl as much as she did, and cared for her every need. There was an inexplicable bond between the two of them and it broke her heart that it was Angela who would be caught in the middle, a victim of a senseless power play. She worried that Angela would feel that she, too, was abandoning her.
“I understand.” Kenni knew her anger and disappointment showed in her eyes, and didn’t care that he saw it; she doubted he would notice. She was not being dealt with fairly; instead, to him she was a politically insignificant party, someone discarded to please one who was much more useful to the hospital.
“I’m not sure you do. The Coles are of major significance to this hospital. Without their money, we would not be as effective as we are at saving the lives of children, of providing some of the best care in pediatrics within the state of Ohio and the US in general. It is all about the children, is it not?”
“Exactly,” she retorted, matching his coldness, his bluntness, as she got to her feet, “which is precisely why I find it wrong that an innocent little girl is the one who will suffer emotionally to appease her selfish mother, the Board of Directors, and Chief of Staff.”
Doctor Parmenter’s eyes remained like blue ice; cold, raw and unyielding as his annoyance grew. “And just how might she suffer?” he asked, a distinct edge to his voice. He was growing tired of the conversation, surprised by the resistance Kenni demonstrated. He didn’t blame her, but her feelings in the matter were of no importance to him. “I hope you are not implying that you’re the only one who can care for this child.”
“Of course not!” Kenni sighed, her frustrating rising. “I’m not implying that at all, sir. The implication here is that because Mrs. Cole has decided she doesn’t like me, and has the political muscle to do something about it, a word to you was all it took to have me removed from a patient’s case. How would that make you feel? What happens if tomorrow Mrs. Cole decides she doesn’t like Edie, or Kim, or Adam?” Her eyes locked on his. “Or you?”
Before he could reply, Kenni quickly left his office. While he knew that there was merit to what she had said, and why she was upset, it was inconsequential to his personal stake in the matter.
Clay picked up the phone on his desk and punched out a number he had recently committed to memory. She answered on the very first ring with a throaty voice that excited him. “It’s done,” he reported, pleased that he was at long last able to take a step forward to drawing Morgan into what he hoped would be the beginning of a provocative, satisfying and enduring relationship between them. He leaned back in his chair, a smile of satisfaction and anticipation of the prize waiting for him curled the corners of his mouth. “Now, when would be a convenient time to get together? I do hope you are as excited about the…possibilities as I am.”
***
Kenni swallowed hot tears as she waited for the elevator, wondering what she was supposed to tell her staff as to why she was no longer actively involved in Angela’s care. While Doctor Parmenter had stated this was not a reprimand, it felt like one.
When the elevator door opened, Kenni found Jeb standing inside. He was alone in the elevator car and deeply engrossed in the contents of a patient’s chart. He looked up and surprise flickered in his hazel eyes at the sight of his wife’s expression. “Kenni, what’s wrong?” Her normally radiant complexion was noticeably pale and she looked ready to burst into tears.
“Oh Jeb!” she cried, longing for the reassuring warmth of his arms around her. “Parmenter has had me removed from Angela’s case!” The tears she had been valiantly battling refused to be held back one second more. She buried her face in her husband’s chest and wept.
With a loud clatter, Jeb dropped the c
lipboard and immediately held his wife close. He had hoped that the matter would simply die, that his wife would be spared being caught in the middle of hospital politicking. While he accepted that he was biased when it came to his wife, it angered him that to satisfy a selfish woman’s whim, an innocent bystander suffered. He would have felt that way if the target had not been Kenni.
The elevator doors closed and Jeb pushed the button for his third floor office. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and the sweet smell of fruit-scented shampoo tickled his nostrils. “You don’t deserve this and I hate seeing anything hurt you, Kenni.”
She lifted her head and wiped at her tears with her hands, wishing she had something else to wipe her face with. Ordinarily she carried tissues in her pocket, but in her nervousness about the meeting, she’d forgotten to grab some. As if reading her mind, Jeb reached into the pocket of his white lab coat and pressed a tissue into her hand.
Kenni dabbed at her tears, sniffled, and looked up at him. “I feel like I’m in the middle of a very bad dream.”
Jeb gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m sure the worst is over.” The elevator doors opened and he took his wife’s hand. “Come to my office and give yourself a moment to regroup. I think you’ll feel better if you sit for a minute.”
In Jeb’s office, he got his wife a bottle of water from a small refrigerator near his desk. After she sat down, he knelt at her feet and looked up at her lovingly. Anything that hurt Kenni also hurt him. He didn’t care that some would call that co-dependency; Jeb knew it grew out of the bond of love and respect they shared. They were close, they were soul mates and very much in love.
There was only one thing he knew to do, and bowed his head in prayer. “Heavenly Father, thank You for my wife and all the wonderful things You’ve done for both of us. Help us to hold onto the peace only You can provide in our hearts, in Jesus name, Amen.”
BROWNIE: An Angel's Visit Page 7