PATIENT CARE (Medical Romance) (Doctor Series) (5 page)

“Had breakfast?” Rudy handed her the mug along with sugar and several containers of cream.

“Yes, thank you.” She remembered the television debacle and shuddered.

“Time for a snack, then.” Rudy went inside, and was back in a moment with a thick chunk of chocolate brownie on a paper plate and a plastic fork. “Get yourself around that. The wife made it this morning.”

Melissa sipped the coffee. It was delicious, strong and fresh. She looked at the brownie, thickly coated in fudge icing, and her mouth watered. Chocolate was the one thing she couldn’t resist when she was having her period. A single mouthful of the brownie told her it was easily the best she’d ever tasted. She had another bite, and then a third. She could have sworn it helped her headache. She swallowed and tried to distract herself. “Do you belong to the Plumbers’ Union, Mr. Ransom?”

“Sure do, I’m shop steward for Local 253.”

“I see.” She frowned at him. “Can you tell me exactly what you’re doing here?”

He looked at her as if it was self-evident, but his voice was polite. “Picketing’s tiresome business. Lord knows, I’ve done enough of it in my time. Only thing that makes it bearable is havin’ some good hot food ready and waitin’ for you when you need a break.”

Melissa nodded. “I just don’t quite understand why the Plumbers’ Union is supporting the doctors.”

He raised a fist. “Solidarity,” he bellowed, making her jump. “All for one, and one for all.” He lowered his arm, refilled her coffee from the thermos and leaned close enough so Melissa could smell brownie on his breath. “Fact is, I owe my life to one of them there doctors,” he confided. “Came that close—” he held out two fingers a smidgen apart “—to packin’ it in last spring. Pain was somethin’ awful. The wife called 911. Took four of them ambulance guys to get me on the stretcher.”

Melissa believed it. He probably weighed close to three hundred pounds.

“Got me in Emerg, and damn if my gallbladder wasn’t on the verge of bustin’ wide open.” Rudy’s cornflower-blue eyes widened, and he shook his head at the memory. “Only thing saved me was Dr. Burke. The man’s a genius with the knife, let me tell you.”

Melissa nearly choked on her bite of brownie.

Rudy didn’t notice. “Turned on the old telly the other night and there’s this stuff about the doc’s bein’ on strike. So I just called up the members of the local, and we figured a little support was in order. Couple of the wives got busy and cooked, and I volunteered to set up the trailer out here. It’s the least I can do for the good doc.”

“Does, uh, does Dr. Burke know you’re here?” Melissa looked over at the picket line. She couldn’t see Burke. She couldn’t imagine him on a picket line, anyway.

Rudy glanced at his watch. “Should be along any minute now. I called up his answerin’ service. They said the doc would be here along about seven-thirty. He rides his bike over.”

Melissa checked her watch. It was twenty past. She snatched up her purse and her briefcase. “Thanks for the—”

“Hey, there he is now.” Rudy raised his voice. “Hey, how d’ya do, Doc. Remember me?”

James Burke looked up and waved. He was locking his bicycle to a bike rack at the back of the lot. He unhooked his helmet and looped it over the handlebars, and then he came striding over.

Melissa felt her heart begin to hammer. Her hands were trembling. She was still furious with Burke, but damned if she’d let him see how upset she was. Her first reaction had been to run, but she decided to hold her ground. She’d have to face him sooner or later. It might as well be now. Besides, Lennie hadn’t yet reappeared with her lousy car keys.

“Hey, Doc Burke, I was just tellin’ this lady that if not for you, I’d be pushin’ up daisies,” Rudy said.

Melissa’s skin felt tight and hot, but she stared Burke in the eye. It was gratifying to see that he looked as uncomfortable and ill at ease as she felt. He was wearing black biking shorts and a tight-fitting top that emphasized his lean build. His forehead was covered with sweat and he used the back of his hand to wipe it.

“There’re a coupla guys I wanna introduce to ya, Doc, if you gotta minute.” Rudy raised his voice. “Hey, Stan. Vern.”

Two men on the picket line set down their signs and walked over.

“This here’s Doc Burke. He’s the guy I told ya about. If you ever need to get anythin’ cut out, this is the man to do it.” Burke shook their hands, although his discomfort at Rudy’s testimonial was evident.

Melissa made a move to leave, but Rudy stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Dunno where my manners are. I didn’t even get your name, ma’am.”

“It’s Melissa. Melissa Clayton,” she said.

“How d’ya do, Melissa.” Rudy reached out and shook her hand all over again. “You know Dr. Burke, Ms. Clayton?”

“We’ve met, yes.” Melissa eyed him, and James Burke turned an interesting shade of magenta.

“How ’bout a coffee, Doc? And a cinnamon bun.” Rudy had the coffee poured and the bun on a plate before Burke could refuse.

“Let me warm that up for you, Melissa.” The thermos was poised over her cup, but Melissa shook her head.

“I have to get to work. Thanks for the coffee.” She glanced down at the empty plate that had held the sweet. “And the brownie.” God, she’d eaten the entire thing. “I need my—“

Before she could finish, Lennie appeared like an apparition and handed her the car keys.

She stuffed them in her bag and hurried across the lot to the hospital entrance, but once inside she had to wait for the elevator.

“Melissa.” Burke’s voice sounded from behind her, but she didn’t turn around.

“Melissa, wait just a moment. We need to talk.” He came up beside her, and the dratted elevator still wasn’t showing any sign of arriving. She debated escaping up the stairs, but part of her knew he was right; they did have to talk. It might as well be now.

“What I said about your mother was clinically correct, but it came out the wrong way, and I apologize.” He rattled the words off as if he’d memorized them.

“Your people skills need a lot of improving, Doctor.” Her tone was cold and distant. “St. Joe’s has courses, you know.”

The elevator finally arrived, and she stepped on.

He did, as well. For the first time in recent history, the blasted thing was empty except for them. Melissa punched the third-floor button; she wanted to pop in and see Betsy before going to her office to start the day.

Burke didn’t punch any button; obviously, he was going to the same place.

The elevator stayed where it was for what seemed an eternity before it began to move.

“Melissa, I’m sorry.” This time he appeared to mean it. “The last thing I intended to do was upset you,” he went on. His tone was becoming less certain with each sentence. “I never know what to do when someone cries.”

“A handkerchief or a kind word work a heck of a lot better than walking away,” she snapped.

“You’re probably right.” He sounded miserable. “You are right,” he corrected, when she glared at him. “Will you accept my apology? Please?”

She would, of course. She pretty much had to. She didn’t want bad feelings between them; they did work in the same hospital. Still, she let the silence stretch because it wouldn’t hurt him to squirm a little.

The elevator stopped. They were at the third floor, but before the doors could open he reached around her and put his finger on the button that kept the doors shut. She was cornered; his head was close to hers, his chest only inches away. She could smell clean sweat under laid with aftershave. His hair flopped onto his forehead. He gazed into her eyes for a moment. Then his gaze wandered to her mouth and he swore under his breath.

“Damn, you make me want to—”

Instead of finishing the sentence, he bent his head and kissed her.

It was so unexpected that for a moment she couldn’t believe it was actually happening. But his lips were warm and tender, and he kissed well. She was enveloped in his scent, woodsy and intimate. The kiss wasn’t a long one by any means, and he certainly didn’t do anything invasive

with his tongue, but her insides were humming when she pulled away.

He looked every bit as startled as she felt. He still had his finger on the button, so the elevator doors stayed closed.

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing, Doctor?” She tried for steely and outraged but instead got shrill and shaky.

“Beats me.” He gave his head a bemused shake. Then he frowned at her, and his deep brown eyes went from abstracted to alarmed.  “Damn it, Melissa, I hope you know I didn’t plan that,” he burst out. “Because I didn’t. Being close to you makes me—oh, God. Please don’t think sexual harassment here.”

It hadn’t crossed her mind until he mentioned it.

“It’s—well, see—”

He was stuttering. She wondered if anyone aside from his mother had ever heard James Burke stutter. She waited. She managed to raise her eyebrows in what she hoped was a cool, questioning manner, but her face was burning. She cursed her coloring.

“It’s just that you’re the sexiest—” He stopped short and tried again. “You’re a lovely woman. I’ve always found you attractive. And just for one minute there, I lost my head.” His shoulders slumped and he sighed. “I guess now I really owe you an apology.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “No,” she said softly. “You don’t.” She swallowed and said the first thing that came into her head. “It was a nice kiss. It’s also nice to find out that you’re human, after all.”

Lord. Was nice the only word she could think of?

“People might be starting to wonder what’s wrong with the elevator, though,” she added, when he still didn’t make a move.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” He released the button and the door slid open. No one was waiting, and Melissa was relieved. She felt warm and rumpled, and she knew her cheeks were still flaming. She’d just as soon nobody saw her for a couple of minutes, until she had time to regain her composure. Had he really said she was sexy?

“I’m going to see Mom,” she said to fill the sudden awkward silence.

He waited until she’d stepped out of the elevator, then followed her. “That’s where I’m going, too.” He sounded preoccupied.

They walked together down the hallway and turned the corner. No one was at the nursing station, but that was because the entire staff was gathered around Betsy’s bed.

Melissa’s heart almost stopped. “Oh, my God, what’s wrong? Is she—”

“She’s the same. There hasn’t been any real change in her condition,” the nursing supervisor, Lydia, said quickly. “We did have an incident, but it’s over now.”

“What sort of incident?”

James moved toward his patient to check her pulse and examine her eyes. Betsy was obviously unaware of anything. She lay as limp and unresponsive as ever, but there was an angry red mark on her neck. “Exactly what happened here?”

Melissa saw the concerned looks the nurses exchanged. “Mrs. Clayton somehow fell out of bed,” Lydia said. “She became tangled in a sheet, and would have strangled if we hadn’t found her immediately.”

Melissa was horrified. “But how could that happen? Weren’t you watching her?”

The words were out before she could stop them. She didn’t want to blame the nurses; she knew from her own nursing career that accidents occurred, and that it was always the nurses who bore the brunt of the blame.

“That’s totally unacceptable,” James snapped. “Weren’t there signs that she was going to have a seizure? Surely the nursing staff must have recognized that something was different.”

But no one had. A nurse had come in, talked to Betsy, turned on the radio, checked the IV, and Betsy had seemed the same.

James did a thorough examination. “The fall doesn’t appear to have done any harm,” he told Melissa when he was finished. “But there’s been no improvement, either.”

His voice wasn’t exactly warm, but Melissa could see by his expression that he was both concerned and disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t as unfeeling as everyone imagined. Maybe he was just incapable of verbalizing emotion. Maybe—

Stop making excuses for him just because he kissed you
, she chastised herself.

“Your bedside manner is atrocious,” she accused. “You haven’t once spoken directly to my mother. You know there’s a possibility she can hear you.”

Melissa caught the indrawn breaths of the nurses.

To her amazement, he took the criticism well. “You’re right, of course. I will from now on. I’m sorry, Melissa,” he added. He sounded sincere.

Suddenly, Melissa was sorry, too. Her mother didn’t deserve what was happening to her. She bent and kissed Betsy’s cheek to hide the tears that gathered in her own eyes.

“Hang in there, Mom,” she told her, squeezing her hand. “Things are gonna get better soon, I promise. And don’t go trying to get out of bed again by yourself. Call one of the nurses. The button’s right here.” She put her mother’s hand on it and tried not to notice how it toppled away. “I’ve got to get to work or I’m gonna be late for a meeting, Mom.” She scrabbled in her oversize handbag. “I brought in a tape player. I’ll get you some tapes later today. And there’re pictures here. I want to talk about them with you, but right now I’ve gotta go. I’ll be here to see you again this afternoon.”

Melissa didn’t look at James again. She hurried down the hall and into the elevator, but just as the doors were about to close, he stepped in. This time there was a man from the cleaning staff along, which, Melissa told herself, was a big relief.

On the second floor, James got off with her and walked beside her toward the boardroom where the meeting was scheduled. He was quiet until they reached the doorway, and then he said, “If there was anything I knew that I could do for your mother, I would. I hope you understand that.” She nodded without looking at him and opened the door. She had to compartmentalize her feelings. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on her mother when there was business to be done, or she’d burst into tears and lose control.

The other members of the committee were waiting.

The meeting was with the Ministry of Health, and it was contentious. The doctors were demanding higher pay, fewer hours, more operating rooms, and James delivered an impassioned defense of their position. The government representative spoke of the sanctity of medicine, the irresponsibility of doctors who would choose job action over mediation, the danger they were imposing on the city and the current emptiness of the coffers that funded Medicare.

A representative from the nursing staff registered the nurses’ strong opposition to the doctors’ demands for more operating rooms; the nurses wanted more beds and more nurses. Arguments were heated, and Melissa’s task was to find a path through the minefield, to come up somehow with a compromise that everyone might accept.

She did her best, but nothing was settled by the time the meeting finally ended at a quarter to twelve. As the room emptied, Melissa gathered up the notes she’d made and stuffed them in her briefcase.

“Melissa.”

James Burke was at her elbow. She turned, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

“I wonder—that is, would you consider having dinner with me this evening?” His voice was hesitant, and she paused. He was asking her for a date, and she wanted to go-

But then he blew it. “I thought perhaps we could discuss some of the more relevant issues about the job action over a meal.”

He didn’t want a date. He wanted a sympathetic ear for his platform. She was so disappointed she wanted to haul off and smack him one. “I don’t think that’s appropriate,” she said in a haughty tone. “I don’t believe in mixing my personal life and my job.”

“Shit.” The expletive burst from him. “That came out absolutely the wrong way. I wasn’t trying to lobby. I sincerely wanted to share a meal with you. I didn’t mean—” He stopped short and pulled in a breath, then grinned.

It took her by surprise. It changed his face entirely. He went from handsome to hunk in a flash of perfect teeth. “How many times is this I’ve apologized to you today?”

She tilted her head and pretended to reflect. “Three. Maybe four.”

“So can I just delete what I said and start over?”

She shook her head. “I’d like to have dinner,” she confessed. “But I have a seven o’clock meeting with a patient’s family, I want to spend as much time as possible with my mother and I have to find a store that sells vintage tapes.”

“Vintage tapes?”

“For my mom. She loves golden oldies.”