Practice Makes Perfect (10 page)

Derek grinned at him “Where the hell is that guard dog of yours, big brother?”

“He’s sulking on the porch.” Ian looked out past Derek’s shoulder. “Did you bring Slide Rule? She’d coax him out of his snit.”

“Nope. I was in South Hyde Point to bid on a job, so I stopped by.” He nodded at the drink Ian held. “Rough day?”

“‘Uh-huh.” Ian stepped back, and Derek came in.

Derek’s hazel eyes darkened. “The clinic opened today, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That what’s got you tipping a few?”

Ian sighed. “No, it’s a woman.”

There had never been any secrets between the brothers. Ian had been privy to Derek’s whirlwind courtship of his wife Rose and then every painful detail of her death from cancer five years ago. He’d pulled his brother out of many a funk. In return, Derek had seen him through a few dramatic breakups. These days he nagged Ian about settling down and having a couple of kids.

Without asking, Derek crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt as he sat down. “Hyde Point’s Most Eligible Bachelor is down about a woman?”

For a minute the image of a nicely curved bottom and full breasts in black spandex came to mind.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“I behaved like an ass. She’s ticked off. It’s a professional thing.” Ian felt his temper rise at his own stupidity. “I guess I really don’t want to talk about her.”

Derek studied him. “You sure?”

“Uh-huh,” Ian sipped his drink. “Tell me about the job. Is it a house or industry?”

“A house. I’m not doing much industry. It doesn’t interest me anymore.” Since his wife’s death, Derek had changed in a lot of ways. He studied his brother. “So, are you going to help me open the cottage this year? It’s already past time.”

Ian’s insides knotted. “Maybe.”

“You gotta do this sometime, bro. Mom and Dad would have wanted us to enjoy the lake. They loved it up there.”

“I know. It’s...it seems too soon.”

“We left it closed all
last
summer.”

“I know.” Ian ran a hand through his hair. Shrugged. “I just don’t want to deal with it now.”

Scalpel’s nails scratched on the tile in the kitchen. Both Ian and Derek turned. The dog headed right for Derek and nuzzled him. “Hey, Scalpel old boy, what’s going on?”

Scalpel crossed to the front door and whined.

Derek stood. “Come on,” he said to his brother. “Lend me some of your jock clothes. Let’s change and take the dog out for a run. We can talk about this lady who’s got you tied up in knots.”

“I’m not tied up in knots.”

“Whatever you say.” He looked at Scalpel. “You wanna go out with Uncle Derek for a run?”

Scalpel barked, Derek laughed, and Ian felt a little better. He wondered if Paige had anyone to coax her out of her mood. He hoped she’d called Darcy.

o0o

WHEN SHE WALKED into the Center the following Thursday afternoon for her scheduled work hours, the first thing Paige spied was a big pink bow and an envelope with her name scrawled on it taped to the computer monitor—the one where she’d read Marla’s message.

Since her conversation with Jade, she’d been having a lot of second thoughts about what Ian had done—along the lines of,
Yeah, the guy’s a real rat, wanting the best for underprivileged women. Women who don’t have people like Elsa Moore and Nora Nolan to help them.

Consequently she hadn’t spoken to Marla about the incident yet, and some of her anger at Ian had abated. Wondering if he was in today, she crossed to her desk, put her purse in her drawer and glanced at the clock. She still had an hour before her first patient. Smoothing down the yellow sundress she wore today—it was hotter than hell for early summer—she crossed to the computer. Tearing off the envelope, she opened it and read, “Boot up the computer.
Please
.”

She sat down and turned on the machine. After it loaded, Paige shook her head. She should have guessed Ian would pull something like this. Staring back at her was a specially designed screen saver: Ian had put the face of his beautiful black Lab right in the center. Again, the dog seemed to be smiling at her. To the right was a list, which Paige immediately scanned.

Why women prefer dogs to men:

Dogs feel guilt when they’ve done something wrong.

Dogs admit when they’re jealous.

Dogs don’t feel threatened by your intelligence.

You can train a dog.

Dogs are already in touch with their inner puppies.

Gorgeous dogs don’t know they’re gorgeous.

Dogs understand what no means.

Once again, as always seemed to happen when she was around Ian and his dog, Paige laughed. He’d even placed asterisks beside a couple of the sayings and indicated that those applied most to him.

Then beneath the list was a note:

Seriously, Paige, I’m sorry. I was wrong to use Roberts to get to you, but please know it was not meant maliciously. I told Scalpel the whole story and he’s giving me the cold shoulder. Not only have I lost a new friend, I’ve lost my best friend. Forgive me?

Ian.

Jeez, how was she supposed to resist that?

Leaning back in the padded chair, she closed her eyes. She was making too big a deal about this. He’d only done what was best for the Center. In his place she might have done the same. It wasn’t that she didn’t forgive easily; it was just that she didn’t trust people. After her parents’ death and her erstwhile boyfriend’s desertion, she’d turned into herself. Jade’s cutting off their relationship so abruptly had just added to Paige’s isolation.

You need everybody and everything to be perfect. Did she?

From behind her she heard, “Hi, Paige.”

Swiveling around, Paige saw Cindy in the doorway. “Hi.”

“Your one o’clock came early.”

“For a reason?”

Cindy entered the office and handed her the chart. “A three-month-old isn’t eating. The mother’s overwrought about it.”

Paige frowned and opened the folder.

The nurse continued. “I did the vitals, then said I’d see if you were here. The mother’s Ian’s patient, and he’s in with her now trying to calm her down.”

Paige read the stats. “This doesn’t look good,” she said. Standing, she grabbed her lab coat from a nearby coat tree. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks.”

“
Weeks?
”

“She’s been to the free clinic in Elmwood, but—”

“Never mind, I’ll talk to her.”

“She and Ian are in room one of ob/gyn.”

Heading there, Paige read the file. Something about this illness sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She was mentally reviewing cases she’d treated and some research she’d done when she knocked on the door to room one and entered.

A frail young woman with a tearstained face sat on a chair, systematically tearing up a tissue. Her clothes hung on her as if she’d lost a lot of weight. Ian stood in the corner cradling a tiny baby in his arms. The image startled her for a minute—he looked so big with the child, yet so competent, so at ease. Glancing up at her, he said, “Hi, Dr. Kendrick.” He was all business. “This is Anne Corriddi and this little guy is Sean.”

Paige crossed the room. “Hello, Mrs. Corriddi.” The mother’s lips were bitten raw, so Paige squeezed her shoulder. “Sean has a problem?”

The tears began to fall.

“Anne, I told you Dr. Kendrick’s the best. She’s going to figure this out. In the meantime, you need to hold it together.”

“It’s just that he’s so sick.” There was a quaver in Anne’s voice.

Ian sat down on the chair still holding the baby, who lay listlessly in his arms.

“Tell me the history, Anne,” Paige said, indicating the chart, “as detailed as you can.”

“About two weeks ago he started not eating good.”

Paige glanced down. “You’re breast-feeding, right?”

“Yes.” Anne’s eyes darted to Ian, who nodded. “My, um, husband just got laid off from the electronics plant, and I thought it was stress. You know how you get stressed and stop producing milk. My mother-in-law said I should give him solids.”

Not a good idea. “Did you?”

“No, I want to keep breast-feeding him. He’s so little. And I read it’s good for a baby.”

“It is. You’re right to steer clear of solids when Sean’s this young. What else?”

“He’s been constipated for two weeks.”

“Did you do anything about that?”

“The intern at the clinic in Elmwood said to use baby suppositories.”

Paige made a notation in the chart. “They didn’t work?”

“A little bit.”

“Other symptoms?”

“He doesn’t want to eat. I can’t get him to suck.”

Ian stared down at the baby. His big fingers came up to adjust the collar of the infant’s one piece terry-cloth suit. “Oral mucous. Sunken anterior fontanelle. Hypertonia.” He glanced up. “He can’t hold his head up at all now, Paige.” There was a note of gravity in Ian’s voice.

Paige clicked off her pen and closed the chart. “He needs to be hospitalized right away.”

Tears formed again in Anne’s eyes, and she looked at Ian beseechingly. “I...we...um, we don’t have any medical insurance.”

“That’s all right,” Ian told her. “The center has an arrangement with the hospital.”

Paige checked the clock. “I don’t have another patient until two. Let’s get the little guy over there now. I’ll order the tests in person.”

With Paige expediting the process, it took only fifteen minutes to get the child to an emergency room. After consulting with the head pediatrician on staff, Paige ordered blood tests, urine and stool cultures, and within minutes the baby was receiving IV fluids. That would stabilize him immediately. She also ordered an MRI and an electromography, as well as a thyroid profile. It was near two when she approached Anne, who’d been joined by her husband in the baby’s room. “Mrs. Corriddi, I’ve ordered all the necessary tests. Sean will have them this afternoon.” She smiled soothingly. “I’ve left instructions to be called immediately when the results are in. Until then, we can’t do anything but stabilize him.”

“St-sta...bilize? Could something happen to him?”

“Now that he’s on IVs, he’s doing okay.” She squeezed Anne’s hand. “I promise we’ll find out what this is.”

Paige hurried back to the Center—thank God it was attached to the hospital—and saw her afternoon patients. But her mind kept straying to little Sean Corriddi. Something was familiar about this....

It was five o’clock before she finished with the last child. She’d only seen Ian when he’d poked his head into an examining room to get an update on Anne’s baby. He swiveled around from his computer when she entered their office.

“Any news on the tests?” she asked without greeting him.

“A fax for you just came in. But I’ll tell you what it says. All Sean’s tests have been done. No conclusions could be drawn from them.”

“Do you know how the baby is?” she asked.

“I walked over on a break. He’s stabilized.”

“I’ll head there now. I just want to check something.” She sat down at the computer. It was only when she hit the space bar calling up the screen saver that she remembered what Ian had done with the machine. Once again, staring into Scalpel’s face, she chuckled. “This was cute, Ian.”

“I am sorry, Paige.”

She didn’t look at him. “I know.” She thought about Jade’s observation about her perfectionism. She thought about Ian’s question about being unforgiving. “I overreacted. Let’s table it for now, though. I want to do some research on Sean’s symptoms. They seem so familiar....”

Ian worked at his desk while Paige visited some medical sites. Food poisoning kept coming up. But the baby was being breast-fed exclusively.

At six she gave up and went back to the emergency room. Little Sean was sleeping soundly in his crib, his face less pinched because of the fluids he’d gotten all day.

Tonight Anne Corriddi’s mother-in-law kept Anne company. “My Anthony got a part-time job at the gas station, so I came to sit with Annie” She clutched her rosary beads to her ample chest. “Is the baby going to be all right?”

“I hope so, Mrs. Corriddi.” She smiled at Anne. “The tests we’ve done have ruled out a lot. That’s good.”

“He’s a big boy,” the mother-in-law continued. “This breast-feeding, I think it’s wrong. In my day, we put babies on cereal right away.”

Paige sat down and faced the women. “Well, that was the thinking a while back. But solids for infants are not recommended now.”

The elder Mrs. Corriddi looked away, alerting Paige to something. “Mrs. Corriddi, do you baby-sit Sean at all?”

“Annie works at Hannah’s Place in the afternoons. I take care of him.”

“I leave breast milk, though,” Anne explained. “The books say to.”

“You should.” Paige addressed the issue directly, as they didn’t have time to spare. “Have you given Sean solids, Mrs. Corriddi?”

“No, no, she wouldn’t.” Anne was vehement. “I told her not to.”

Mrs. Corriddi reddened. “Just a little cereal. With honey on it so he’d take it.”

Honey
. It was like finding a crucial piece of a puzzle. Everything fell into place. Paige shot off her chair. “I’ll be right back” She strode out of the room and bumped into Ian outside the door.

“What is it?” he asked, steadying her.

“I think I know what’s wrong with Sean.” She could hear the excitement in her own voice. “Walk with me. I want to confer with the pediatrician on staff.” They hurried down the hall. “It’s infant botulism.”

“Botulism?”

“Yes, it can occur within the first four to six months of life. It’s caused by the ingestion of spores that germinate and produce toxins in the gastrointestinal tract. This sort of botulism is quite uncommon and often goes undiagnosed.”

“Is it curable?”

“Very much so. I’m starting him on antibiotics right away. Respiratory and nutritional care are the mainstays of the treatment. He might need intubation. But basically, the disease is self-limiting and should work itself out within two to six weeks.” She smiled. “Full recovery is expected in three to four weeks if he gets the proper treatment.”

Ian’s face glowed with joy, and she felt a deep connection with him. Their tiny patient was going to get well.