“Trust me, it won’t kill you. You drink coffee yet?”
Mia nods confidently, playing at being all grown up.
“I’ll have a cup waiting for you. And maybe a book you haven’t read.” She could easily pay the kid in books and makes a mental note to bring in her copy of Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay for Mia to borrow.
It’s another moment before Mia nods again, but she still hasn’t given Amy a smile. Which is fine. Amy isn’t looking for smiles. She’s looking for something to get this kid’s head out of her own ass before it’s too late, because clearly there’s a brain inside that head.
Chapter Fifteen
A soft knock on her office door startles Ellis enough to make her jump, though she’s glad for a distraction. Staring at her computer for hours is giving her a mild headache.
“Come in.” Ellis never firmly shuts her door when she’s alone in her office because she wants to signal that she’s available to hospital staff. There’s nothing better to fuel fearful gossip and paranoia than closed office doors and no access.
It’s Amy. Looking amazing in pale green scrubs and a starched lab coat, a bit of sun having softly bleached the tips of her short, light brown hair, lending her a more carefree veneer. Ellis aches to see her smile again and to be truly carefree. She burns to see that lustful wanting in Amy’s eyes, but all she gets is a pinched look, a firm set to her jaw.
“You got a minute?”
“Of course. Have a seat. It’s…good to see you again, A— Dr. Spencer.”
Amy nods and, still standing, thumps an inch-thick report onto Ellis’s desk.
“What’s this about?” Ellis slips her glasses back on while waiting for Amy to offer an explanation. She’s happy to discuss anything with staff at anytime, but Amy’s confrontational attitude is beginning to grate. It’s as though she is set on punishing Ellis every chance she can, simply for doing her job.
“I know stats are important to you, so that’s what these are. I’ve culled all the serious emergency cases at this hospital over the last five years. You’ll see that in numerous of these, the outcome would have been extremely poor, including morbidity, if this hospital did not have a full-time emergency department as well as a surgical service.”
“I see. Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous about my conclusions?”
Amy ignores Ellis’s comment. “I like to presume the worst and work back from there. In my job, and probably yours, there’s no room for assumptions and hoping for the best. People would have died, Ellis. Will die, if you cut too deep. I can guarantee it. It’s all in there.” She points to her report.
“I understand that, I really—”
“I’m not sure that you possibly could. Not until you’ve walked in my shoes. Or any of the nurses’ or other doctors’ shoes. Or the patients’, God forbid.”
“You’re not going to give me the benefit of the doubt, are you?” Amy’s cynicism toward her—more than that, her hostility toward Ellis—is shocking. Hadn’t they sort of reached a kind of truce? How is it that Amy has such a low opinion of her? The same Amy who once told her that she was lovely? That she was a nice person? Ah, but that was in bed. Outside of the bedroom, she clearly has a different opinion. Outside of the bedroom, Ellis is nothing but an interfering interloper. Ellis can’t keep her frustration from boiling over. “Dammit, do we really have to do things this way? With acrimony? I thought we actually liked one another. What the hell happened? I’m still the same person you met two months ago, you know.”
Amy finally slumps into the chair across from Ellis, slowly rubs her face with her hand. She looks defeated. Resigned. And right when Ellis thinks maybe she’s gotten through to her, Amy’s words shoot from her mouth with the velocity of bullets. “We did. But this is too important. Much more important than afternoon romps in bed. Surely you get that.”
Afternoon romps? Is that what Amy thinks of her? Of them? Sure, their dalliances had started out as nothing more than casual sex, but the caring, the affection, the tenderness that had begun to weave into their time together couldn’t be her imagination. That deeper dimension to their lovemaking was as real as anything Ellis has ever known. Her spirit soared in those hours she spent with Amy, but clearly Amy has an altogether different memory of their time together.
Ellis tells herself to calm down before she says something she can’t take back. “All right, look. I’m sorry for bringing our personal issues into this. But Amy, er, Dr. Spencer, you need to understand that I’m trying my best here, and I intend to do my very best for all parties involved in this process. So please keep in mind that I’m not the enemy. And I haven’t already made up my mind on what I intend to recommend, contrary to what you probably believe. And maybe, just maybe, having me do this review is a damned sight better than somebody else the corporation could have hired.”
“You may be right, but I can’t assume that little will change here by the time this review is complete. In fact, I’m quite sure things will end up drastically different. The corporation wouldn’t have hired you if it expected to keep everything the same, now would it?”
Arguing is pointless. Ellis has a job to do and so does Amy. It’s not unusual with these reviews for people to become very possessive of their territories, stubborn about their priorities. Change is always difficult. And Amy is right about the fact that there will indeed be changes, because the hospital’s budget can’t sustain itself the way things are.
Amy gets to her feet, since Ellis doesn’t really have an answer to her rhetorical question. “I thought so.”
“Wait,” Ellis says as Amy’s hand lands on the door handle. “One more thing.”
Back straight as a board, Amy turns around. She looks much less youthful than she looked a few minutes ago. “Yes?” she says warily.
“About Mia. Thank you so much for introducing her to the library volunteer work. I had no idea she was so into books. She actually talks about her day now when she comes home. Something I, well, am surprised about. It’s really good for her to be doing this, and I know it wouldn’t have happened without your intervening. Everyone needs a purpose, and good on you for recognizing that. I’m very grateful.”
The thinnest of smiles skitters across Amy’s face, much to Ellis’s relief. “You’re welcome, and I’m glad it’s working out. She’s…got potential, I think. She just needed a friendly little shove, that’s all.”
“Again, thank you. And…I’ll be sure to look at your report.”
Amy nods once and slips out the door.
* * *
Janice Harrison, the hospital’s CEO, ushers Amy into her office and closes the door. It can’t be good that Amy’s been called into a private meeting, and for a fleeting moment, panic rises in her chest as she considers that Harrison has somehow found out about her and Ellis’s romantic past. Ellis would probably be pulled off the case, which might be good. Or not. Ellis had a point the other day when she said someone else doing the review might be worse. At least Ellis is the devil she knows.
“I have to tell you, Amy, I’m not pleased that you furtively compiled statistics from our emergency cases over the last five years and gave them to Ms. Hall. You should have gone through me first.”
“I’m sorry, Janice. I wasn’t trying to be furtive. If I gave the report to you, I worried it would have to go through all the proper channels before it ended up in Ms. Hall’s hands. If it all. I was trying to expedite her…research.”
Harrison makes a face of displeasure. “What about patient privacy?”
“I redacted all the names and any identifiers.”
“All right. Good. But, you know…” Her eyes say something different than her words. “No more end runs, please.”
“Right. Of course.”
“I have a task for you. And I’m afraid it’s going to take you out of town for a few days.”
“I have cases lined up for the next six weeks, plus my on-call shifts.” She really doesn’t want to have to
go out of town, no matter how important the assignment.
“I know. I’m borrowing a locum surgeon from the city who can come in for four days and take your shifts and your cases.”
Amy tries to banish the insubordinate thoughts she’s having. She doesn’t like handing over her patients to anyone else, which is why she seldom takes more than a couple weeks’ holidays each year. Nor does she like being ordered out of town, but Harrison’s tone brooks no room for opposition. “I see. What’s the assignment?”
“I want you to go have a look at Soldiers Hospital in Collinsworth. It’s very similar to ours in size and so is the town’s population. I want you to really dig in and see how it’s working since they implemented all their streamlining of services last year. With a full report for my eyes only. You’re my emissary, my eyes and ears there so that we can be sure to file our own research-based opinion, if necessary.”
Collinsworth is a town of about sixteen thousand people a couple hours’ drive north of Toronto. It’s famous in Ontario for its ski hills, and Amy skied there a couple of times when she was a student. “Wait a second. Didn’t they dump their OB department?”
“Yes. And moved all elective surgeries.”
“I don’t need to go there to tell you what I think of those changes. Or what I might conclude in a report.”
“You do need to go there. Because Ms. Hall is going there to observe the changes, and you’re going to accompany her.”
Amy feels her stomach bottom out. She pins her superior with a glare she hopes conveys her complete distaste for the whole idea. Seriously? She’s supposed to go on a road trip with Ellis? Just the two of them? For several days? And then she’s to stab Ellis in the back with a secretive report that Harrison will hold onto until Ellis files her report?
“Wait. Can’t Lakefield go?” Bob Lakefield, chief of staff, should be the one to go if Harrison is bent on a doctor accompanying Ellis.
“His wife is due to give birth any day. I can’t ask him to go in light of that.”
“So, if I may get this straight, you want me to be Ms. Hall’s minder?”
“No. I want you to run your own parallel research. Talk to the same people she does, but form your own opinions.”
“How soon is this supposed to happen?”
“My office is making the arrangements for the middle of next week.”
Fuck and double fuck. She has to find a way out of this. “Soldiers Hospital. Don’t you think it’s a poor comparison? I mean, Ms. Hall is going to take one look at the place and want to do the exact same thing here, make all the same service cuts. Isn’t this basically leading the fox to the henhouse? Giving her a template from which to copy her own recommendations?”
Harrison gives Amy an inscrutable smile. “Perhaps your being there, working alongside her, will give her a different viewpoint to consider. And if not, then your report will at least offer counterarguments to what Ms. Hall might conclude.”
How the hell am I supposed to do all of that, Amy wants to argue. But if the CEO is entrusting her to help persuade Ellis against recommending drastic cuts, then so be it. She’ll have to figure out how to do that, because if she’s the only thing standing in the way of this hospital being gutted, well...it’s a no-brainer. She’ll take one for the team.
“All right,” Amy relents. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ellis has hardly been able to think straight since she found out Amy will be accompanying her on what was supposed to be a solo field trip. They’ll be flying into Toronto, where they’ll rent a car for the two-hour drive north to Collinsworth, then be in each other’s pocket for three days. How the hell is she supposed to handle this new development? Is there a playbook for going on a working trip with your ex-lover who can no longer stand the sight of you? On the positive side, the only reason for Amy’s coldness is because they’re on opposite sides of this hospital review and not because Amy truly hates her. At least that’s what she tells herself. The rejection from Amy hurts far deeper than she ever could have imagined.
What the hell did you expect, that she’d propose to you or something? Okay, well, of course not that. Ellis has never seriously considered marriage before, not even to Mia’s mother, so she’s not about to start letting that crazy notion take a foothold in her brain now. She’s in her mid-forties and in the prime of her career. She’s financially independent, and her little fling with Amy has at least proven that sexually she doesn’t need to be a loner. There are other women out there, good-looking, intelligent women like Amy who also have priorities that don’t include relationships.
Except…
Ellis takes another long drink of cabernet, reaches for the bottle on the coffee table, and refills her glass. Mia is at Kate’s, looking after Erin Kirkland’s little girl while Erin and Kate enjoy a movie together. Now that she’s alone, she realizes that she’s slowly, sliver by sliver, breaking apart. Because Amy has become the cloud over her sun, the bleeding hole in her heart. And her fucking job isn’t making her happy either. Buckets of money, yes, but not happy. The number crunchers love her. Board members, the bureaucrats at the Ministry of Health (because she saves them oodles of money) love her too. But the Amys and the Kates and the Erins of the world—oh, and Mia—not so much. To them she’s uncaring, one-dimensional, obsessed with an agenda diametrically opposed to their own. A Cruella de Vil in a room full of puppies.
Well, they’re wrong. She does care and she’s not some emotionless automaton. Health care is the biggest industry and the single most expensive government-funded service in the province, and she’s doing her part to keep it sustainable so that universal health care for all can continue well into the future. Doesn’t anyone get that? That she’s actually trying to help?
And then there’s Mia, who has every right to hold her emotionally hostage for having walked out on her and her mother years ago with barely a look back. That was a mistake. Not in ending the relationship, because she was no longer in love with Nancy, but in the way she handled it. She’d been short-sighted, selfish, and it certainly wasn’t the way she’d do things now. But she’d come back for Mia; she’d taken Mia when no one else wanted her.
Before she can blink them away, tears spring from her eyes. She chokes down another swallow of wine, another sip of self pity. She’s a mess, something wholly unfamiliar to her, and she hates being this weak, this pitiful. She picks up her cell phone, scrolls down to Amy’s number. One press of a button and Amy would be on the other end…well, if she chose to answer. What would Ellis say to her? “Hi, Amy, yes, I’m drunk, but I called to say I miss you and I want you back in my life and most especially in my bed.” Yeah, like that’ll work.
She tosses the phone aside and picks up her laptop from the coffee table. She logs into the dating website, something she hasn’t done since she met Amy there. She could find someone else. Should find someone else. She’s single after all; single and still somewhat sexy at forty-four. What the hell does she have to lose? But first she looks to see if Amy’s profile is still there. Partly to see if she’s looking for someone else to hook up with, but also to check out the photo that once drew Ellis in like nectar to a honeybee. It was a black and white photo, with Amy staring out at a sunny horizon, her hair windswept, her face smooth, her eyes curious but at peace, the tiniest smile beginning to curl the edges of her lips. She loves that photo, because it shows Amy’s many layers.
But the picture is nowhere to be found. Amy has deleted her profile from the site. Probably took it down once they began seeing each other. Ellis should have removed hers too, but she’d forgotten all about it, hadn’t even logged into the site until now. A couple of quick taps on her keyboard and now her profile is gone too. Screw it. If she can’t have Amy, and clearly she can’t, then she’s going to forget about the whole damned dating thing for now. Or hooking-up thing. Whatever. She doesn’t have the time, nor does she have the energy for all the highs and lows, all the damned work this stuff takes, all the drama, as
Amy’s behavior lately has reminded her. For something that was supposed to have been uncomplicated, simple fun, it’s become anything but. And Ellis has nothing but her own stupid, betraying heart to blame.
Mia breezes in, locking the door behind her for the night. When she sees Ellis, with the nearly empty wine bottle beside her, she freezes. Stares at the offending bottle, the half empty glass. “What’s going on? Are you drunk? Are you crying?”
“No and no. Well, maybe a little of both, but I’m fine. It’s been a long day. A long couple of weeks, actually.”
“You used to bust my balls all the time about smoking pot, but it’s okay to drink a whole bottle of wine?”
“Language, young lady.” Why do teenagers think it’s their job to remind adults of their every little weakness, their every tiny mistake? Jesus!
Mia’s apology comes in the form of a shrug.
“And you’ve given up pot, right? Like you promised the judge? And me?”
“Yes, I’ve given up pot. Jeez. And I thought we were talking about you, not me.”
“I didn’t mean to have quite that much to drink.” She dries her face with the back of her hand and remembers, a little late, that she’s supposed to be a role model. “Look, Mia, sometimes adults are tough on kids because we don’t want you making the same mistakes we made. Or that you at least don’t make really big mistakes before you have the experience and the know-how to deal with them. It’s really that simple, okay? And yes, we still screw up, no matter how old we get. But I’m asking you not to screw up too badly yet. At least wait until you’re thirty, okay? Please?”
Mia looks at her like she’s grown a second head, and yet to Ellis, it’s the most honest thing she’s ever said to the girl. Some day, they need to talk about how and why she walked out of Mia’s life, but not tonight. “Anyway, we’ll talk another time. I need to go to bed.”
Thursday Afternoons Page 13