by Leslie Gould
After supper, on their way to the meeting, James told Nelson about the Morrises and his idea for a service project. He didn’t comment but listened intently.
At the meeting, Nelson, as troop leader, called everyone to order and then led the other Scouts in the Pledge of Allegiance. James’s heart swelled as the boys recited the words, ending on a louder note as they said, “…with liberty and justice for all.”
“The first item on our agenda,” Nelson said, “is to come up with a service project.”
“How about selling donuts?” Shane Singh shouted out, pushing out his belly, which didn’t need much help.
“That’s not a service project.” Nelson crossed his arms. “We need to help an old lady or clean up a public space, something like that.”
The boys looked around at each other for a moment.
Finally, Nelson said, “My dad has an idea.”
The boys all turned toward James.
He’d hoped Nelson would bring it up, if he wanted it considered. The idea was for the boys to take charge of the troop. It wasn’t like Cub Scouts where the parents planned everything. James leaned forward in the chair. “I know of a family in the area with a son who was injured in Iraq.”
“What happened?” Shane asked.
“IED.”
“Improvised explosive device,” Nelson explained.
Shane made a face. “Duh. Everyone knows what that is.”
“Anyone else get hurt?” another boy asked.
“One of his buddies was killed,” James said. “Two others weren’t injured at all. The explosion broke the back of the man I know, tore up his left arm, and injured his head.”
None of the boys commented.
“Right now he’s in a hospital bed and a wheelchair.”
“How old is he?” Shane asked.
“Twenty-three.” James imagined it seemed old to the boys.
“I have a brother that’s twenty-two,” another kid said.
James nodded. Joel was actually younger than the average soldier in Iraq, which was close to thirty due to the heavy deployments of army reservists and National Guard soldiers.
“What does he need help with? Getting around?”
James smiled, imagining the entire troop trying to push Joel’s wheelchair. “I think coming up with something to help his family would be better. His mom and dad took time off work to be with him in Germany and then at Walter Reed, and his mom is taking a leave of absence from her job right now.”
“So, they need money?” Nelson asked. He’d been concerned about his own family’s finances so James wasn’t surprised that’s what would come to mind for him.
“We could have a can drive,” Shane said. “And give the family the proceeds.”
“That’s an idea,” James said even though he knew it would only be a drop in the bucket as far as their overall expenses were concerned. “Or maybe they need some work done around their house.”
“Like chores?” Shane groaned. “Cleaning toilets and stuff like that?”
James smiled. “That would be appreciated. But maybe you could come up with something longer lasting.”
“Like?”
“I could ask the family what needs to be done. Maybe they have a house project you could do. Or yard work.”
The boys groaned again.
“I’ll send out an e-mail when I find out.” James leaned against the back of the folding chair. Maybe the Morrises wouldn’t be open to a troop of boys descending on their home, but hopefully they would.
When James broached the subject with Melanie the next day, tears filled her eyes. “It’s not only that we don’t have the time,” she said, “we just don’t have the emotional energy right now to tackle extra work. Does that make sense?”
James nodded. How many times had friends helped him and his family when they didn’t have the energy to handle something on their own? “I’m thinking the boys could come on a Saturday in the next few weeks,” James said.
“I’ll talk to Gary,” Melanie said. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
The physical therapist was coming at ten, so James hurried Joel through a shower. He heard voices down the hall as he positioned Joel’s chair to transfer him back into his bed and assumed Melanie was on the phone.
“How long until you lose your job?” Melanie was clearly upset.
“They’re fighting again.” Joel’s good hand was balled into a fist as James helped him stand and then pivot toward the bed.
“Who?”
“My parents. My dad took another day off work.”
James swung Joel’s legs onto the bed. Maybe he’d finally get to meet the illusive Mr. Morris.
The physical therapist arrived right on time. She was in her late twenties, short and small, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore slacks and a sweater and seemed a little wary of Joel, making James wonder how the session had gone the day before. She stood at the end of his bed with her hands on her hips.
“I wondered if you’d come back.” Joel had a mischievous look on his face.
She shook her head, just slightly. “So did I.” She stepped around the bed. “Are you ready to work today?”
He nodded. “I was tired yesterday, that’s all.”
“You were rude.” Her eyes sparked as she spoke.
“How about if my buddy James sticks around? He’ll keep me in line.”
James nodded at the woman and extended his hand. “James Bell. I’m the home health nurse.”
“Polly Green.”
Joel began to smirk.
The young woman shook James’s hand, turning her back to Joel. “I can handle him teasing me about being a Polly Pocket but not the lashing out. Or the crude language.”
James looked around her at Joel. He was still smiling. PTs at army hospitals were probably more accustomed to bad manners than a young woman doing home health care in Illinois.
“What are your goals for Joel?” James asked.
“Mobility. Strength.” Polly pulled a file from her bag. “Preparation for his transfer to the army hospital.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take a seat,” James said. He gave Joel a steady look and then watched as Polly maneuvered Joel’s legs, one at a time, lifting them to a forty-five-degree angle and then lowering them slowly. James had made sure Joel took his pain meds to be able to handle the PT session.
Joel suggested Polly apply for a job with the CIA as a torturer, but the comment was made in good fun. She laughed and said she’d keep that in mind as a second career. Then she worked in silence, moving on to Joel’s arm. He winced in pain and cursed.
“Use your words,” Polly said, as if she were talking to a toddler.
“I was,” Joel said and cursed again.
James stood and stepped to the end of the bed. “Use a number,” he suggested. “If the pain’s an eight. Say that.”
“You guys are full of it.” Joel turned his head toward the wall. “I’m done for the day.” Joel’s voice had turned mean.
Polly shrugged and unrolled the sleeves of her shirt. “It’s up to you.”
James wanted to remind Joel that the harder he worked the stronger he would be for rehab, but he knew the young man was aware of that.
“I’ll see you on Thursday,” Polly said. James walked with her as she headed to the door, opened it for her, and followed the young woman outside. “He was much better today,” she said. “Thanks for staying.”
“See you next time,” James said, wondering just how bad Joel had been on the physical therapist’s first visit.
As he headed back toward the house, a man hurried out the front door.
James introduced himself, and the man responded, shaking his hand and saying, “I’m Gary Morris. Joel’s father.”
James nodded. He’d assumed so.
He thanked James profusely for his work. “Melanie said that Joel’s settled down a little, and she attributes it to you.” Gary zipped his coat as they spoke. “She’s too
easy on him, but doesn’t see it.”
“I can only imagine how stressful Joel’s injuries have been on your whole family.” James could only guess how devastating it would be to have one’s child so badly injured.
“Oh, we’re doing fine.” Gary Morris had an easy air about him. “Joel’s doing great. He’ll be off to rehab soon and then home again. In no time, things will be back to normal.”
James wondered what the man meant by normal.
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” Gary said. “I’ve got to zip into the office for a few hours.” He nodded his head toward the house. “We had a rough night. I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Joel had a hard time last night?”
“You could say that.” Gary dangled his car keys in his hands.
“Did he take his pain meds?”
Gary shrugged. “All I know is I hardly slept. I was up half the night, trying to calm him down.”
The man waved as he hurried toward his SUV, and James ambled back into the house. As he gathered up his things to leave, he asked Joel how bad his pain had been the night before.
“The same.”
“Did you take your meds?”
The young man nodded.
“Your dad said it was a rough night.”
Joel snorted. “For him. Not for me. He was being a pain in the—”
“Joel.” Melanie stepped to the end of his bed with a half sandwich and a box of juice in her hands.
James excused himself, saying he would be back the next morning at nine. Melanie walked him to the door and thanked him, Joel’s lunch still in her hands. He expected her to give an explanation about what was going on, but she didn’t. He told her good-bye, hoping she didn’t plan to help Joel eat.
As he backed out of the driveway, he prayed for the family.
Chapter Nine
ANABELLE STEPPED OUT OF ROOM 3 AND nearly bumped into Leila Hargrave, the nursing administrator.
The two greeted each other warmly, and Leila said she’d walk with Anabelle down to the nurses’ station. “I’m checking in with everyone this afternoon,” she said. “Per the administration’s orders, I need to make sure the supervisors are keeping their staff at the most efficient level.”
Anabelle knew efficient was business talk for bare bones. It meant overworking the nurses to save the hospital money. Some years it meant piling on the patients so management could get a bonus. “I’ve been doing that,” Anabelle said. “Within reason.” It was a tricky balance to provide good care and stay within the department budgets.
“We’ve been asked to cut all costs again,” Leila added.
“Really?” Anabelle stopped in the middle of the hall. A fluorescent light flickered above her. “They think we can squeeze that much more out of our departments?”
Leila frowned and said, “Yes. That’s what they think. Starting today, they want any nurses who are not needed to be sent home immediately. Do your scheduling to utilize each nurse to the fullest. Reassign patients as often as needed to juggle the workload.”
“Is this something the advisory committee is going to be consulted on?” Anabelle crossed her arms. Dr. Hamilton had scheduled another meeting, but it looked more and more like the group was strictly for show.
“You can certainly discuss it,” Leila said. “In fact”–her voice was nearly a whisper–“it would be a wonderful idea if you did.” She waved a farewell as she rounded the corner, her practical shoes clicking along the linoleum and her gray bun secured in its usual position.
Anabelle sank down into the office chair at the computer and then spun around to the whiteboard with the assignments on it. Marie’s patient in room 5 would be discharged in an hour. Anabelle could take that patient and assign the one in room 6 to another nurse. Then she could send Marie, who had the least seniority, home. It would make for a hectic day for Anabelle, taking on two patients with all of her other duties, but she didn’t think the situation would be unsafe.
She started down the hall to room 5 to tell Marie. At least Leila hadn’t asked her to lay off anyone—yet.
Marie might be happy to go home early. She had a little boy in preschool and two children in elementary school. It would give her more time with her family.
Marie was anything but happy to go. Her eyes grew moist, and she asked Anabelle if she could let someone else leave early. “I can ask if anyone would like to go home,” Anabelle said, half expecting Marie to tell her why she didn’t want to go, but the woman didn’t elaborate.
Ten minutes later, Raina Levitt volunteered to go home when Anabelle asked if she was interested.
The afternoon continued at a high pace. Anabelle’s patient in room 3 needed an angiogram, and the blood pressure of the additional patient she took on shot sky-high right before the shift change. Anabelle administered medication to bring it down and alerted Dr. Hamilton.
By the time she gave report to the next shift she was exhausted but took time before leaving to look at the next day’s scheduling. If no new patients were admitted, she could get by with one less nurse. She stood and scanned the hall looking for Marie just as the woman walked around the corner, headed for the stairs.
Anabelle got the woman’s attention. “I need to put you on call tomorrow,” Anabelle said.
The woman’s hand flew to her chest and she approached Anabelle in a couple of steps. “I already told you it’s not a good time.”
“Everyone’s going to have to take turns.”
The woman lowered her eyes and her voice fell to a whisper. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, but my husband just left me.”
Anabelle’s heart sank.
“It turns out he’d been gambling—and now all the creditors are calling me.”
“Oh dear,” Anabelle said, feeling deeply for Marie.
“I can’t afford to lose the time off work.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Anabelle said. “But you’ll have to take your turn sooner or later. There won’t be any way to get around it.”
Marie winced. “How about my job? Do you think I’m going to be let go?” She was the last hired on the floor.
“I hope not,” Anabelle said.
Marie pulled her shoulder bag against her side. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose my job. It’s the money sure, but also the health insurance. My youngest has asthma. You wouldn’t believe how much an ER visit is without insurance.”
Anabelle could imagine. “No one has said anything about layoffs, so let’s just focus on the immediate. I’ll ask Raina if she wants tomorrow off too. If she doesn’t, I’ll give you a call.”
Marie thanked her and left. Anabelle picked up the phone and called Raina. Thankfully, Raina was happy to have another day off. Her grown daughter and grandchildren were coming for the weekend, and she had plenty to do to get ready. But Anabelle knew she was only delaying the inevitable. Marie, and other nurses who desperately needed the hours, wouldn’t be getting as many as they expected, and, if it came to layoffs, there wouldn’t be any way to save Marie’s position. Anabelle pushed the office chair away from the phone and stood slowly. James needed more than anything to get rehired at the hospital, and things at Hope Haven were only getting worse.
Candace kissed both of her children good-bye, stepped through her front door, and waited on the stoop for Heath to arrive, the manila folder of paperwork Dr. Hamilton had given her last Friday in her hands.
Heath had called when he left his house and couldn’t be more than a minute or two away. She breathed in the fresh air and stepped out onto the walkway to get a view of the sky. The night was clear and bright, studded with stars, and cold. A sliver of a moon hung low, just above the treetops.
Headlights appeared a block away and Candace walked toward the street as Heath pulled his yellow Jeep to the curb and jumped from the driver’s seat to hurry around the vehicle to open her door.
She smiled and thanked him, noting his good manners were another thing she loved about him as she climbe
d up into the seat and set her folder of documents on top of his. As they approached the hospital, they chatted about Hope Haven. “I’m feeling really anxious about all of this,” Candace admitted.
Heath reached over and took her hand but didn’t respond. She liked that. She didn’t expect him to have an answer. She just wanted him to listen. It was comforting to ride with him to the meeting. Over the last four years she’d gotten so used to handling things on her own that it was a relief to be facing all of this with Heath at her side.
He let go of her hand, downshifted, and pulled into the hospital parking lot where he parked in front. Candace spotted Anabelle’s car and Elena’s small SUV as she climbed out of Heath’s Jeep.
She glanced at her watch. They had three minutes until the start of the meeting. “Let’s hurry,” she said to Heath who had grabbed both of their manila folders. They strode through the sliding doors and through the lobby.
All of the other advisory committee members were already seated at the large table of the boardroom, with Varner at one end and McGarry at the other.
Dr. Hamilton welcomed the two and then called the meeting to order. Candace slipped into the chair between Anabelle and McGarry, and Heath sat down across the table. Candace noticed that the reporter from the Deerford Dispatch wasn’t present.
“Did everyone have a chance to go over the paperwork?” Dr. Hamilton asked.
Everyone nodded. It had been a daunting task and had taken Candace hours over the weekend.
The group discussed the reports at length, asking questions and gaining clarity on the problems, information that came mostly from McGarry. The grants that had been applied for last year had mostly been rejected due to errors in the paperwork.
“We hired a consultant to do the work,” Varner said, “but obviously he didn’t know what he was doing.” After further discussion, Dr. Hamilton asked if everyone felt they had a general idea of where the hospital was as far as finances.
A sad sigh went around the table.
“Exactly,” Dr. Hamilton said and then glanced down at his notes. “My thinking is that the first thing this committee needs to explore is hiring a chief informatics officer.”