Off Duty (Off #7) (2 page)

“Mother…
I’m on my way in to see a patient. I don’t have a lot of
time to talk,” I say quietly as I navigate the halls.

“You know I
don’t call you unless it’s important, Holly.” She
sighs dramatically, causing me to pinch the bridge of my nose to
stave off the beginnings of a stress headache.

Because just like
that, my mother can make a crappy day supremely crappier.

“Your father
has been selected as the Franklin R. Murray award winner this year,”
she says proudly.

“That’s
wonderful,” I say flatly, because I stopped caring about my
father’s medical accomplishments years ago. The man went from
being my hero and inspiration to become a doctor to being nothing but
a big, fat disappointment to me.

She ignores my lack
of enthusiasm and continues. “We’d like you to attend the
award dinner. It’s next month on the twenty-sixth.”

I reach ER Room Two,
which is nothing more than a curtained-off section of the emergency
room treatment bay. I can see two large shadows moving behind the
curtain and the raised voice of one very irate male, who isn’t
speaking loudly but is very clearly pissed.

“This is
ridiculous that we’re still waiting to see the doctor. My son
is fucking five years old, and he’s scared,” I hear the
man say.

I hear the soothing
voice of Amy, one of our more seasoned nurses, in there. “She’s
on her way, Mr. Davis. And I promise Sam isn’t in any pain.”

“I know that,”
he retorts. “He’s just scared and tired. We need to get
this taken care of so I can take him home.”

Turning my attention
back to my phone call, I quickly tell my mother, “I’m
sorry, but I won’t be able to make it. Give my congratulations
to Father. I have to go now.”

Before my mother can
even take in an indignant breath, I disconnect the call and slip my
phone back in my pocket.

I push back the
curtain to enter Room Two just as I hear Mr. Davis say, “I want
a doctor in here immediately, or I want to see the hospital
administrator.”

Glancing down to
grab the medical chart clipped to the end of the bed, and in my most
professional yet conciliatory voice, I say, “I’m truly
sorry for your wait, Mr. Davis.”

I paste a warm smile
on my face and look up to meet the gaze of the irate father.

And my world
pitches, rolls, and then tilts precariously on its axis.

Standing before me
is a ghost from the past.

A beautiful ghost
standing just over six feet with skin the color of mocha and eyes so
light brown they might as well be orbs of amber.

“Tim?” I
say hesitantly, almost not believing that he’s standing right
there in front of me. The last time I saw him was ten years ago when
my father broke my heart and I, in turn, broke Tim’s.

He’s still the
same, yet different. He now has a thin mustache and goatee
surrounding those beautiful lips and the strong chin I remember so
well. His eyes carry a wisdom within them that makes me wonder what
he’s been through over the last decade.

Rustling from the
bed catches my attention, and I quickly realize that my young patient
is Tim’s son. A quick breath in and I collect myself. Putting
on a truly warm and genuine smile, I walk to the side of the bed and
pat the little boy laying there on the leg.

“Hey…
you must be Sam?” I ask him gently, and he nods almost shyly.

His eyes are wide
and fearful. They aren’t Tim’s eyes though. Much lighter…
a hazel with flecks of green, and I wonder if Sam’s mother is
white. The rest of his face is Tim’s though… through and
through, and this kid is going to be gorgeous when he grows up.

“How are you
feeling?” I ask him softly. “Any pain?”

“No.”
He’s so quiet I can barely hear him.

“That’s
good,” I say with a smile. “My name is Holly. I’m
the doctor that’s going to take care of you today and I
promise, I’m going to make you feel all better. Okay?”

He nods… this
time with a tiny smile, which I return.

Turning away from
Sam, I shoot a quick glance at Tim. He’s not said a word yet to
me and by the look on his face, I’m not sure he really wants to
talk to me. This I can understand as I’ve often thought over
the years what we would actually say to each other if this moment
ever occurred, and I always came up flat empty as well.

I walk over to a
rolling cart that houses a computer terminal and with a few
keystrokes, I have his x-ray results pulled up. It only takes me a
nanosecond to see the problem.

Looking over my
shoulder at Tim, I motion toward the digital films. “He’s
got a small fracture in his first metatarsal.”

Tim takes a few
steps and comes to stand beside me. I point to the fracture. “Right
there. Good news is that it’s non-displaced and it’s an
easy fix. Just a good splint and plenty of resting it for the next
three weeks.”

Tim nods, lets out a
grateful breath, and then murmurs, “That’s good.”

Turning away from
me, he walks over to Sam’s bedside and places his large hand on
top of the boy’s head. “Doesn’t look too bad,
buddy. Holly is going to put a splint on it and you’re going to
have to be careful for a while, but it should heal up fine.”

“In time for
baseball season?” Sam asks hesitantly.

“Definitely,”
Tim says with a smile, and then leans over to kiss Sam on the
forehead. The move is a simple showing of affection from a parent to
a child, but for some reason… watching Tim… the man he
has become hits a deep chord within me.

Clearing my throat,
I turn to the sink beside the computer terminal and wash my hands
again. “I’m going to do a quick examination. I don’t
expect I’ll find anything else to change my diagnosis, and then
we’ll get you all bandaged up so you can get home.”

Amy pulls the splint
and wrap out of a supply cabinet and lays the materials on a metal
cart beside the bed. I step up to the side that Tim is standing on,
and he quickly moves back to give me room. I shoot him a small smile
and don’t get one in return, his eyes darting away quickly to
rest on Sam.

“Sam…
I’m going to look at your hand. It might hurt a little but
don’t be afraid to tell me when it does. I want to make sure
nothing else is damaged that I can’t see on the x-rays, okay?”

I get a brave nod in
return and spend the next several minutes examining Sam’s hand.
Tim tells me that he fell while playing outside with a dog, so I go
ahead and do a quick range-of-motion exam on his wrist, elbow, and
shoulder. When Sam assures me that nothing else hurts, I take a few
moments and splint his hand up, explaining to Tim how to apply the
wrap around for a secure but not too tight fit.

“All done,”
I tell Sam with a quick squeeze to his shoulder. “You’ll
be as good as new in a few weeks.”

Turning to Amy, I
tell her, “Go ahead and remove the IV and get the discharge
paperwork done.”

“Yes, Dr.
Reynolds,” she says briskly.

I turn back to Sam.
“It was good meeting you, Sam. Take care of yourself.”

Then I turn to Tim,
and I’m met with that same impassive look he has been wearing
since I walked past the curtain into the room. Disappointment fills
me as I realize that Tim truly doesn’t want to talk to me…
at least, not outside of my medical expertise.

I take in a breath,
square my shoulders, and give a polite smile to him. “Well…
it was good seeing you again. Take care.”

He doesn’t say
a word. Doesn’t move a facial muscle in response. Just stares
at me with those amber eyes until I turn away and walk toward the
curtain to, once again, leave Tim behind.

Tim

I’m still
reeling from seeing Holly.

When she walked
through that curtain and my brain first recognized her, I felt every
cell in my body respond to her beauty.

She looked exactly
the same as she did ten years ago.

Long, blonde hair,
more of a golden tone, that’s thick and wavy. Crystal-green
eyes with mile-long lashes and lips that look perpetually swollen by
hard kissing. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever known, a true fact that caused me to be tongue-tied around her.

Which was fine,
because it’s not like this is the best place to re-open old
wounds. Because that is what would happen if Holly and I actually had
a moment to talk.

Instead, I was happy
to see her concentrate on Sam. She was so gentle… so patient
and kind with him, that I could tell he was immediately at ease. She
was efficient in her expertise, and I’m grateful for her care
of him.

And then?

Then she was saying
good-bye and walking past me out of the small, curtained room.

My hand shoots out
and grabs her around the wrist. She jerks in surprise and for a brief
moment, I focus on my fingers clasping loosely onto her. My dark skin
against her pale, and a haunting image of my body covering hers as I
made love to her sizzles through my mind.

“Wait,”
I say as I drag my gaze up to hers.

Holly tilts her head
slightly… in curiosity, and I clear my throat. “Do you
have a moment to talk?” I ask her.

“Sure,”
she says with a smile. “I just got off the night shift. It’s
going to take a few minutes to get Sam discharged.”

Turning back to Sam,
I see him talking to the nurse as she takes his IV out. “Sam…
buddy… I’m going to step just outside this curtain a
moment to talk to Dr. Reynolds. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, Dad,”
he says with a toothless but brave grin. “I’m good. Amy
promised me some stickers.”

I give a wan smile
to the nurse. Moving my hand from Holly’s wrist to her elbow, I
steer her outside of the curtained room.

“We can step
in here,” she says and actually leads me over to a small office
across the bay.

I follow her inside
and she shuts the door, turning back to me with her hands tucked into
her lab coat. Her smile is warm, her eyes open and searching.

“It’s
really good to see you, Tim,” she begins, her voice quavering
slightly.

I scrub my hand over
my head, feeling the prick from the short bristles of hair as I keep
my head shaved almost to the point of baldness. It’s just
easier to take care of. “Yeah… you too,” I say
distractedly.

“I didn’t
think you’d want to talk,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping
to the floor.

A brief moment of
anger surges through me as I remember the last time I talked to
Holly. It was just before our high school graduation. All the
students were congregated outside, waiting to get herded into our
auditorium for the commencement ceremony.

Holly had grabbed
my hand and pulled me off to the side, far enough away from the other
students so we couldn’t be heard. It was the first time I had
seen her since my disastrous meeting with her father four days
earlier. Since then, I hadn’t heard from Holly and she wasn’t
responding to my calls or emails.

“
Are you
okay?” I’d asked her quickly, searching her face for any
signs that her father had done something extreme.

Her eyes wouldn’t
meet mine and her bottom lip trembled. My fingers came up under her
chin, and I raised her face and made her look at me. “Holly…
baby… are you okay?”

She gave an
almost urgent shake of her head, and tears welled in her eyes. “Tim…
I can’t… um,” she started, and then a tiny sob
came out of her mouth.

This had me
pulling her hard into my arms, and I kissed the top of her head.
“Tell me. Tell me so I can fix this for you,” I urged
her.

Again, she shook
her head and actually brought her arms up to break my hold, stepping
away from me. She took in a deep breath and blinked her tears away.
“I’m sorry, Tim. But I can’t see you anymore.”

Rage exploded
within me. “What the fuck? Because of what your father said?”

That bigoted
bastard forcibly threw me out of his house four days ago when Holly
decided it was time for me to meet her parents. She was nervous, and
apparently rightfully so, but was convinced the only way to go about
doing it was to pull the Band-Aid off quickly so to speak. So she
told her parents she wanted to invite her boyfriend over for dinner…
and they happily agreed.

When Holly
brought me inside the living room to meet the esteemed Dr. Philip
Reynolds and his socialite wife, Marielle, I knew the moment her
father’s eyes landed on me that the evening had just taken a
terrible turn. He exploded with offended rage, snarling that his
daughter was not going to date “someone like me”. A quick
glance at Holly had told me that she was utterly and completely
stunned by her father’s outburst, seemingly shocked into
absolute stillness. Only when her father latched on to my arm and
started hauling me toward the front door did Holly jump into action,
screaming at her father to let me go.

I was only
eighteen years old, but I was already pretty much filled out. A
six-foot linebacker for our high school football team, I outweighed
Dr. Reynolds by a good forty pounds, but I didn’t make a move
to fight against him. I couldn’t do that out of respect for
Holly.

The rest was sort
of a blur. Holly grabbed ahold of her dad. He shoved back against
her, and she went falling to the floor. Then I was pushed out onto
the front porch, and the door was slammed in my face.

Four days later,
Holly told me she couldn’t see me anymore, and I became one of
the sad statistics where my first love broke my heart and pretty much
ruined me for any other woman.

Blinking away those
bitter memories, I look at Holly now standing in front of me. I’d
lost all track of her after graduation and, despite everything, I am
immensely pleased to see she fulfilled her dream of being a doctor.