2 Any Meat In That Soup? (12 page)

Finally he answered, “With all the people dying, and with patients still coming in with arsenic poisoning, it’s been really stressful at the hospital. I feel like the cops are watching me 24/7, and I haven’t done anything wrong. Guess I’m more on edge than I thought.”

What he said made sense, but I didn’t think it was the whole story. “Have you been the only doctor saving the lives of the poisoned patients?”

“I don’t think so. Jill’s been on duty some of the time. So have a few other doctors. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Why would you ask me that?”

“Don’t know. Things come to me and I say them. Sorry.” My mind had drifted to “Lives of the Poisoned Patients.” That would make a great short story.

Back to the present, Sam.

Dougie looked away for a moment, then back at me again. “It’s okay. I guess we’re all on edge. It’s not a very fun place to work at the moment.” He paused, looked away, then to me again, “What exactly is your job there anyway?”

I tried as best I could to explain the made-up job of crisis intervention specialist, and I think he bought it. He took a step back and I breathed deeply.

He turned away then turned back to say, “Guess I’ll see you at work.”

I said good-bye and he was off. This was a close call. Obviously surveillance wasn’t my strong suit. I stood there for a few minutes thinking. The aftermath of my negative vibes with Dougie remained. He gave me the chills. Then it hit me that I needed to get to work. My Bug was parked in the square’s diagonal parking, and it was just a short jaunt from there to Bay General. I parked in the staff parking lot closest to the ER, and I was set to work.

As I put on my ID badge I heard Loretta yelled, “Dougie, hurry.” I followed the commotion as Dougie and nurse Connie Mumford went toward Loretta’s voice. They passed two empty rooms and went into a treatment room where Loretta was busy hooking up wires and whatnot to what looked like an elderly man. His breathing was labored and he looked a little yellow. I knew enough to recognize jaundice. From my research I remembered that jaundice was one of the symptoms of arsenic poisoning, and so was labored breathing. But of course there were many other things it could be. I knew nothing about medicine, except for what I’d read or what my kids and I had experienced. I thought maybe I could stand inside the door and watch, but if vomit happened, I’d be out of there.

Dougie went into overdrive, calling out orders which his mom complied with, and asking Connie for equipment that sat on the side of the bed. It wasn’t long before the man’s breathing seemed to return to a more normal state. Dougie then asked Loretta to call ICU to send someone down to take the guy upstairs.

Exciting stuff. And Dougie was the hero again.

What’s wrong with this picture? Had he had time to poison someone in the brief period since his lunch break? Or had he done it before? Did he have an accomplice? He did seem to have a big ego, and he did threaten me.

I decided I had to follow Loretta too at some point, since I hadn’t done that yet. She was the last suspect on my list. I also decided I needed to be much more stealthy about my tailing someone.

In the meantime it was time to check on Clancy. I called Gus, talked to Georgianne, and found out my “sweet pooch” was wonderful and maybe they should keep her for a few days, “just in case.” I quickly let her know it wasn’t necessary and told her I’d be home a few hours after work, because I did plan to follow Loretta if I could.

Of course there were no crises for me to work on, so I went to the staff lounge. I wasn’t surprised to find Carter in the corner, still dressed all in white, like an orderly from a few decades ago. He nodded, which I’m sure was his way of greeting me. I nodded back, and added a hello. I turned to him and asked if he had any new information about the poisonings.

He replied, “I told you everything was right under your nose. That’s about all I’m telling you.”

“Right under my nose,” I repeated his phrase. “Right under my nose.” I addressed him again, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It can be literal and/or figurative. You decide.”

“I know that, Carter,” I practically yelled. Actually I’d been going with the literal, and now tried to think of the figurative meaning. Under my nose…‌under my nose. Nothing clicked.

“There haven’t been any more deaths.” I sounded like I actually knew something.

“Yep, and the reason is right under your nose.”

At this point I was sure Carter wasn’t guilty. Although he was still weird, I was fresh out of vibes around him. Guess I got used to “weird.”

I tuned him out. I only had one more hour before I was done with my part-time shift. Who could I follow? Who could I interview?

“Sam Darling to reception.” The loudspeaker rudely interrupted my thoughts. I wasn’t upset. Maybe there’d be an actual crisis for me to deal with. I hurried to reception where the unit secretary just turned her head toward the waiting area while she raised her eyebrows.

Immediately I thought of earlier in the year when I’d tried to deal with an out-of-control man in the ER waiting room. That’s when I had met Michael. So funny that I wasn’t thinking about him much, now that George…‌I shook my head to bring me back to the present. I saw someone sobbing as she sat in one of the plastic-coated chairs.

Immediately I went to her side and sat in an adjacent chair. “Can I help you?” I asked.

She shook her head as she continued sobbing. “No one can help. He might die.”

“Who might die?”

“My grandpa. He’s back there,” indicating the treatment area.

So her grandpa might die. She looked to be in her sixties, close to seventy, a generous estimate. He’d probably be in his late nineties at the least. It’s horrible to lose a grandparent at any age, but her sobbing made me think there might be something more.

“I’m so sorry,” I said as I clicked into nice person, social worker mode. I wanted to ask what was wrong with him, but didn’t know quite how to phrase it. So I just went for it. “What’s the matter with your grandfather?”

“He sprained his ankle.”

“He sprained his ankle,” I repeated in my best counseling style. But in my head I’m saying, “He SPRAINED HIS ANKLE?”

“Yeah,” snort, slobber, wail. “He was roofing his house, and missed the last step on the ladder coming down and he sprained his ankle.”

Now that I knew he probably wasn’t dying, and that he was young for his age, I was able to figure out how to help. “How about if I go back and check on how he’s doing?”

She nodded and I went back to the treatment area. I saw Connie Mumford and asked about the grandpa. She smiled and pointed to a room behind her. I knocked, went in, and saw someone older than Gus. But even more sprightly. He saw me and smiled a beautiful smile.

“Hi, I’m Sam, a social worker here. Your granddaughter is quite upset and thinks you’re dying.”

“Well, aren’t you a cute young thing.”

Young. Me. Well, everything is indeed relative. “So how are you doing?”

“Fine. They x-rayed my ankle, and it’s just a sprain. No big deal.”

“So you’re not dying?” I smiled as I asked.

“We’re all dying, sweetie. But not today.” He continued smiling himself.

“I’ll go tell your granddaughter.” I excused myself and walked out. What a nice guy.

When I went back to the waiting room she was still sobbing, but was about out of liquid to expel. Must have used it all.

She looked up at me expectantly and I said to her, “Your grandfather is fine. He did sprain his ankle but he’s not dying. Would you like to go back with him?”

“Yes, please,” she replied as she began to compose herself.

I led her back. As I did so I said, “Your grandfather is lucky to have someone who loves him so much.”

She thanked me. As I opened the door to his room, his face lit up as he saw her, and she ran to him. Grandpa looked at me and mouthed, “Thank you.” Guess the only thing involved here was love. Nice.

A successful shift. And one with a semi-crisis. Wish I could solve the poisonings as quickly as I solved this woman’s problem.

As my shift wound down it hit me that I’d forgotten two things. One was to check on Clancy again. And the second was to ask George to dinner with my sibs later tonight. I wanted to surprise them with the fact that I had a date.

First things first. Gus answered this time, thank heavens. As soon as he realized it was me on the phone he said, “You don’t even need to ask. Clancy is doing great. No aftereffects from the poisoning that I can see. She’s sleeping on the couch with her head in Georgianne’s lap.”

That was a vision I couldn’t unsee. “I’m so glad, Gus. You guys are so wonderful to keep her. And speaking of that…‌I forgot that I have a dinner with my family tonight. Could Clancy stay until 9 or 10?”

“Sure. Do you want her to just spend the night? Georgianne would love it.”

“No. I really want her home. Would 10 be too late to pick her up?”

“Nope. I’m not much of a sleeper. Stay out as late as you want.”

Okay. One down and one to go. George answered on the first ring. “Yeah.” His greeting didn’t cheer me.

“Hi. It’s Sam.”

George’s voice softened. “Hi ya, Sam.” His usual greeting to me, but this time even warmer than usual. “What’s up?”

“I know this is short notice, but if you’re not busy tonight, would you like to go to dinner with my sibs and me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Sure. What time and where?”

“In about a half an hour? And I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

I must admit I was happy. And I forgot all about following Loretta.

SIXTEEN

M
y heart beat a little faster as I pulled in front of George’s house. He’d stayed in the old St. Francis University neighborhood where we grew up. I honked in front of his brick bungalow and put on some lip gloss before he came out. He did catch me primping in the rear view mirror, and I wasn’t even embarrassed about it.

He slid his ample frame into the front seat of my Bug. Then he leaned over and kissed me. I kissed him back.

“Sorry I didn’t ask you earlier, but I forgot all about the dinner, and I just decided it was time the family knew about ‘us.’”

He put his hand on top of mine and said, “I’m glad. And I’m glad there’s an ‘us’ for you to talk to them about. Exactly what does ‘us’ mean?”

I wiggled as I tried to shake off what I was thinking. I couldn’t tell him that I’d decided I loved him again when he showed such compassion for Clancy. It was too early for that. Hell, it was only a few days ago I wanted Michael to love me. I was nuts. Yeah, that was the only possible explanation. I could only answer, “I don’t really know. Do you?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sayin’.”

He only lived a few blocks from the Rectory and we could have walked, so it was no time before we pulled into the nearly full parking lot. I didn’t have the opportunity to pursue the topic, but resolved to do so when I got the chance.

We walked in to the crowded restaurant and saw my family out on the glassed in patio. Everyone knew George, especially my youngest brother Rob who was on the police force with him. Rob looked surprised. My sisters, Jen and Jill, looked smug. And Ed and Pete just looked friendly. Everyone was with their spouses expect for Rob and Pete, who were single. Pete would probably always be so, since he was a priest, but I had high expectations for Rob to be married within a few years. Everyone stood.

George hugged Jill, Jen, and Ed’s wife, Angie, and shook hands with all the guys, including Jill’s husband Ben and Jen’s husband Manh, whom we called Manny. Looking around I was happy yet again that I’d moved back home to Quincy. I certainly missed this while living in Chicago. Yeah, it was only a four hour train ride away, but with jobs and kids, I hadn’t made it home often enough. This was heaven.

We sat on an end of a huge table, and were forced into closeness. It didn’t seem that George minded since he put his hand on my knee under the table. I sure didn’t mind either, but didn’t know if I was ready for such intimacies. I put my hand on top of his, just to make sure it didn’t stray. Brought me back to high school.

Rob finally sputtered, “You guys aren’t dating, are you? Please say you aren’t dating.” I could only imagine him hating the fact his oldest sister was with a detective on the force.

George and I just laughed. I shrugged my shoulders in an “I can’t help it” attitude. Almost simultaneously Jen and Jill said, “It’s about time.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Jen answered, “You two were perfect together in high school. I remember wondering when and if you would ever get back together.”

Jill put in her two cents, “I was little but I liked George so much. I had a crush on him.” She blushed a little, and glanced at her handsome Ben. “Maybe I still do,” she confessed.

George said, “I remember all of you as kids. I also remember what a great family you had, and how I loved coming over there. I was so sorry when your folks died, but thought it was neat how you were all able to stay together.”

“Well, you remember that I was in college by then,” I said, and “DCFS let us stay together because I was old enough to act as a guardian for the younger ones, and we had other relatives who looked in on us frequently.”

“Much too frequently,” Ed piped in. We all laughed because he had been “the wild one” when he was young and aunts and uncles kept him in line. He had turned into a responsible adult though, partly because of his wife Angie, and partly because he was a good guy to begin with.

We spent much of the dinner reminiscing. I was surrounded by the smell of meat—the Rectory was known for its steaks and ribs—and I did my best to concentrate on my salad and French fries, a meal I considered well-rounded.

It took us at least fifteen minutes in the parking lot to say good-bye; we all hugged and spoke individually to each person. I whispered in Pete’s ear, “Sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while. Maybe we can do breakfast soon?”

“How about tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sorry. I’m taking Clancy to Springfield tomorrow for her therapy dog test.”

That brought on questions from everyone. I promised to update them on the Darling Facebook Page, one of the many ways we chose to communicate.