Perfect Distraction

by Allison Ashley

  “I’ve got four nagging women at my door as it is. I don’t need another one.”

  “Fine.” Logan pushed his empty plate to the side and held up his hands in surrender. “Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?”

  “Hell no. It’s gonna be embarrassing enough to have my female entourage.”

  “Okay. Let me know how it goes, though. Yeah?”

  Andrew offered his friend a tight-lipped smile. “I will.”

  “Andrew Bishop?”

  Andrew’s mom and sisters were on their feet before he’d even registered his own name.

  “That’s us,” Valerie walked toward the woman in scrubs who’d called out into the waiting room.

  “Us? Funny, I only heard my name,” Andrew grumbled.

  Jeni’s small fist connected with his left bicep when he stood. “Cut it with the attitude. That won’t help anything. Take this first round like a champ and they’ll go back to Nebraska and leave us be.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed.

  “To be clear,” Jeni said in a low tone. “I’m asking for my sake. I’m the one they’re staying with.” She bugged her eyes out at him meaningfully.

  Andrew laughed. “How’s that been going?”

  “I’ve been eating well.” She paused. “It’s not worth it.”

  “I bet not.” Andrew smiled and shook his head, and he and his family followed the woman through the door.

  “I’m Karen, one of the medical assistants. Is this your first time here?” Her smile was kind but not pitying, something Andrew appreciated.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll point out the important things as we go, then. The infusion center is U-shaped and separated into five nursing pods. Your chemo nurse is Mandi, and she’s wonderful.”

  They passed rows of large leather recliners. Each chair had its own small flat-screen television in front of it, and curtains that could be pulled around for privacy. Few people had their curtains closed, and Andrew’s eyes passed over the other patients receiving treatment. The wide range of ages and health conditions was surprising. Before his own diagnosis, he thought cancer was something that only old people got. He hadn’t known anyone his age who’d had it, with the exception of a high school buddy whose little sister had had leukemia. They’d had a big fundraiser at school to raise money for a bone marrow transplant she needed, and as far as Andrew knew, she was okay now. Most of the patients he saw appeared to be older than fifty, but there were also a few who looked to be his age, or maybe in their thirties.

  “There are two bathrooms in each pod. You can get up and walk around if you want…just stay on this floor and take your IV pole with you.”

  Finally, they arrived at an empty recliner with two wooden chairs nearby. Karen glanced at the women who flanked him, two on each side. “Here we are. Have a seat, I’ll go grab two more chairs, then I’ll take your vitals.”

  Karen left and Rhonda followed behind to help. Andrew hesitated before he sat down.

  His mom sat down beside him and immediately started to cry.

  Andrew took a deep breath. Patience, he told himself. “You okay, Mom?”

  “I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m f-f-fine.”

  Jeni gave her a small shove from behind. “Move over. Andrew doesn’t need that right now.”

  This was why Jeni was his favorite. Without argument, his mom moved to the second chair over, and Jeni replaced her in the one nearest to Andrew.

  Karen and Rhonda returned, and while his sisters settled themselves around him, the medical assistant strapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. She chatted with him as she worked, reading off his blood pressure and pulse aloud when she wrote it down. “Perfect numbers.”

  “Look at that, healthy as a horse,” he said. “You know, except for the cancer.”

  Karen averted her eyes, and Jeni glared at him. A fresh wave of tears came from his mother.

  Andrew shrugged. “Not ready to joke about it yet? Okay.”

  Karen gathered up her equipment and offered him an unsure smile before she left.

  A tall blond nurse in blue scrubs soon approached, pushing a rolling cabinet with several drawers and a kit of supplies on the top.

  “Hi there, I’m Mandi,” she said in a southern drawl. “You must be Andrew.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Looks like you’ve got a nice cheering section started over here,” she said as she took in the overcrowded space.

  “That’s a nice way to put it,” Andrew remarked.

  “He’s right. We’re more like squawking hens than a cheering section,” Jeni said.

  “I resent that,” Valerie said. “I’d prefer to be called a mother hen.”

  “If anyone’s the mother hen, it’s me,” his mom said, wiping her nose.

  “One’s enough, thanks.” Andrew leaned his head back against the cushion. He felt a headache coming on.

  Mandi widened her eyes in Andrew’s direction, almost as if she were commiserating with him.

  “First thing I’m going to do is access your port, okay?” Mandi frowned. “Unless you want to stretch out the neck of your T-shirt, you’ll need to lift it up for me. Next time try to wear something with buttons for easier access.”

  Andrew hadn’t even thought of that. The device had been surgically implanted into the right side of his chest just three days ago, and it was still sore. He’d chosen the softest shirt he owned, hoping to avoid irritating it any further.

  Mandi put on bright pink gloves and bent over the tray, getting the equipment ready. She held up a little plastic stick with a round pad on the end. “This is for cleaning the skin around the port before I use the needle.”

  Andrew lifted his shirt up to his neck, baring the entire right side of his abdomen and chest. Mandi leaned forward and eyed the circular lump underneath his skin, and lightly touched around it with her glove-tipped fingers. The light pressure was painful, and Andrew held as still as possible.

  “Sorry, it’s probably still tender. That’s normal. The incision is healing well, and it looks good.” She scrubbed the moist pad all around the area, and an antiseptic stench rose to Andrew’s nostrils. She turned back to the tray and faced him once again with a large, thick needle.

  “Holy shit, that’s a big needle,” Jeni said loudly.

  “Jeni!” his mother admonished.

  “It’s quick,” Mandi said.

  “Do you want to hold my hand?” Valerie asked.

  Andrew resisted the urge to roll his eyes and remind his family he was a six-foot-three, two-hundred-plus-pound man who’d been through worse. “I’m good.”

  “Take a deep breath in and hold it, and you’ll feel a big stick.”

  He did as asked, and Mandi pierced his skin.

  Fuck, that hurt. He clenched his teeth and caught a grunt of pain that rose in his throat just in time.

  “All done.”

  An odd, slightly cold sensation tickled at the area. He looked down at the plastic apparatus now attached to him, and saw clear fluid move through the tubing.

  “That’s just saline for now. I’ll get the premedications ready and bring them back in a few minutes.” Mandi pushed the cabinet on wheels against the wall and left.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Can we get you anything?”

  His sisters all spoke at once, but Andrew didn’t hear a word they said, because as he watched Mandi walk away, his eye caught on someone else.

  Lauren stood at the nursing station directly in front of his chair, several yards away. Her alluring red hair was loosely pulled back in a braid, a style that had always fascinated Andrew. He’d watched Caroline weave her hair into braids and had joked about her ninja skills as she’d worked her fingers behind her head, not even looking at her progress as s
he went.

  Lauren’s hair was longer than Caroline’s—but why was he comparing them, anyway? They’d broken up only a month ago and had dated for six, so he’d probably compare women to Caroline for a while. But Lauren wasn’t a romantic interest, and her involvement in his life had nothing in common with Caroline’s.

  He needed to remember that.

  She was talking to a man in scrubs. A nurse, maybe? Whoever he was, he was into Lauren, that much was clear. He stood close to her with a lazy smile on his face, and his eyes drifted down her body more than once as they conversed.

  At least when Andrew had talked to her he’d tried to keep his attention up top. This guy didn’t even attempt to show her respect.

  Dick.

  Not that it made a difference to Andrew one way or another, but Lauren didn’t seem to enjoy the guy’s attentions. Her posture was stiff, and she kept looking around while the guy went on and on, obviously not getting the hint that she needed (or wanted) to be somewhere else. Another woman in scrubs joined them, and Lauren backed away, turning to leave.

  Her green eyes landed on Andrew, and she froze. A smile lit up her face, and Andrew grinned in return, raising his hand in a wave. As he hoped she would, she made her way over. Her eyes dropped to his still-bare midsection, and Andrew gingerly tugged his shirt back down over his chest and stomach, arranging the tubing at the bottom so it didn’t pull on the needle.

  “Look, it’s that pharmacist from Dr. Patel’s office,” Jeni said. “What was her name?”

  “Lauren,” Andrew murmured.

  “That’s right,” Jeni said as she approached. “Hi, Lauren!”

  “Hey, everyone. How’s it going so far?” Lauren asked.

  She smiled and her demeanor was friendly, but there was an edge to her voice Andrew hadn’t detected when they’d met previously. Had it been her conversation with that guy? He suddenly wanted to know what had been said, and if it had upset her. It was none of his business, but that didn’t lessen his curiosity.

  Lauren locked eyes with him, and her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. He liked that. “So far so good,” he said.

  “Lauren, did you know how big those port needles are? I thought I was going to pass out when I saw it,” his mom said.

  “It’s really big,” Lauren agreed.

  “That’s what she said,” Jeni muttered under her breath.

  Andrew coughed and kicked her.

  “Couldn’t they start a regular IV in his arm?” His mom continued, oblivious to her two youngest children’s immaturity.

  “Chemotherapy can irritate the small vessels in the arm, and if a patient is dehydrated or doesn’t have good veins, it’s hard to get a line that way. It’s safest to do it like this.” Her eyes brightened, and she grinned. “I’d even say…im-port-ant to do it like this.” She paused with her mouth slightly ajar and her eyebrows raised.

  Jeni giggled and a laugh burst forth from Andrew’s chest.

  Lauren looked so proud of her little joke. Dammit, she’s cute.

  “That was terrible,” he teased.

  “Then why are you laughing?” she retorted.

  “People laugh at bad jokes all the time.”

  She tilted her head to the left and put one hand on her waist. “What’s the end goal of a joke, Andrew?”

  Strike that. Standing there with her hip out to the side, her braid across her shoulder, trailing down the swell of her chest, and her green eyes daring him to argue—she wasn’t cute. She was sexy as hell.

  “To make people laugh.”

  “And what was that, just now? That sound you made?”

  Andrew narrowed his eyes even as he smiled. “A laugh.” He drew the words out slowly.

  “Well then. Mission accomplished.”

  “I like her,” Jeni announced. She turned to face Lauren. “I like you.”

  Andrew thought maybe he liked her, too—a little too much.

  “Oh.” Lauren sounded surprised, and she smiled at Jeni. “Well, I like you, too.”

  “What about me?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  The smile faded from Lauren’s face, and suddenly she looked like he always felt in math class when called on to answer a question.

  Completely at a loss for how to answer.

  Andrew could feel his mother’s stare. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Jeni’s wide grin.

  Thankfully, Valerie spoke up from the other side of his chair. “Of course she doesn’t like you. Few women do.”

  Andrew snorted. Those toddlers of hers were fogging his sister’s brain.

  “Sure, you’re nice to look at,” Valerie went on. “But then you open your mouth.” She shook her head sadly, and next to her Rhonda nodded in solemn agreement.

  “I’ve been told I’m exceptionally charming,” Andrew argued.

  “By whom?”

  He paused. “Mom.” He swiveled around to look at the woman in question.

  She smiled at him lovingly. “Of course you are, honey.”

  Andrew shot Valerie a triumphant look and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “See? Charming.”

  Jeni rolled her eyes in a manner that would put any thirteen-year-old girl to shame. “That doesn’t count. Not only does she have to say you’re charming because you’re her only son, but you have cancer and are about to get your first chemo treatment. She’d tell you you’re next in line as the King of England if you asked her to.”

  His mother leaned forward to meet his eye. “Don’t listen to them. You could be a king if you wanted to. You can be anything you want to be.”

  “That’s completely untrue,” Jeni said. “Unless you marry a princess, you’ll never be king. Does anyone know a princess who’s single we could introduce Andrew to? No?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “You’ll be a mediocre attorney. But that’s what you want to be, right? So, it works out.”

  Andrew stiffened. “Why will I be mediocre?”

  “The great ones are workaholics, who leave time for nothing else. You care too much about your family to be one of those guys.”

  His posture relaxed. Even though it was an odd kind of compliment, he’d take it, because it was true.

  “Or maybe it’s because you were never good at winning arguments,” Valerie countered. “You usually just give up and walk away.”

  “Arguing with you isn’t worth it,” he muttered, and rubbed a hand across his face.

  Lauren stood two feet away with both hands tucked into the pockets of her white coat, her expression bewildered and amused.

  “Is there a limit to how many family members can be back here with me?” he asked, pleading with his eyes. “Tell me someone forgot to mention it and I need to ask at least two to leave.”

  Her eyes twinkled, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “Sorry. The only rule is no visitors under twelve.”

  Andrew turned his attention to Jeni. “Sorry, little one. You gotta go.”

  Jeni put her hand up to her face and rubbed the side of her nose with her middle finger, turning in such a way their mom couldn’t see the gesture.

  “Worth a shot,” he said under his breath.

  “Well, I’d better get going.” Lauren cleared her throat as her eyes traveled up the IV pole. “Any questions or issues before things get started? Did you get the pills I sent to your pharmacy?”

  “We have them,” Valerie said before Andrew could. She patted her purse.

  “Great. I hope you won’t need them, but I want you to have them just in case.” Lauren brought her eyes back to his. “You’ll call Dr. Patel’s office if they don’t work, right?”

  “You act like I’m not good at following orders,” Andrew said, feigning offense. “Why is that? You don’t even know me.”

  “She’s a smart woman,” Jeni said.
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  Lauren grinned at Jeni, then darted her gaze back to him. “I know male patients, and generally, as a group, you don’t like taking medication.”

  “We also don’t like to kneel at the porcelain throne.”

  “Sounds like we’re on the same page, then. Give me a call if you need anything.” Twin spots of color formed on her cheeks, and she quickly added, “I mean the clinic. Call the clinic if you need anything.”

  Andrew kept his eyes on Lauren as she walked down the hallway. She raised one hand to smooth her hair and slid it down the back of her head, gripping her neck for a moment as she walked. Just as she turned the corner she dropped her arm to her side and looked back, meeting his eyes for the briefest second before she was out of view.

  “Andrew?” Valerie’s voice sounded in his ear. “Are you listening?”

  “What?” Andrew found five women staring at him. Four, he was used to. But Mandi had apparently rejoined them and was eyeing him as well. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. I just wanted to let you know what I’m about to give you,” Mandi said. “All three of these are medications to prevent nausea. I’ll run them separately, one right after another. Should take about forty-five minutes.”

  Andrew nodded understanding. Here we go. Nerves unfurled deep in his gut, and he suddenly felt antsy. He had a strong urge to get up and leave, but that wouldn’t do him any good. Inhaling deeply, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hoping to distract himself with Instagram.

  Mandi manipulated the tubing and pressed a few buttons on the computerized pump attached to the IV pole. His mother asked Mandi where she was from and how long she’d been an oncology nurse.

  Jeni jumped in at the first break in conversation. “Do you know Lauren well, Mandi?”

  His phone was suddenly much less interesting.

  “The pharmacist? Sure. She’s our oncology resident this year. The best one we’ve ever had, if you ask me. I really hope they find a job for her here when she’s done. I know she wants to stay, but from what she’s told me, persuading the hospital administration to fund another position isn’t easy.”

  Andrew had no idea pharmacists even did residencies. He wondered how long it was. Would she finish and move on while he was still getting treatment? Had she said anything about that before? He thought back to his first office visit, trying to remember.