Changing Lanes (The Lone Stars Book 3) (25 page)

“Football … FOOTBALL. Are you kidding me?” She threw her hands up. Here she was fighting tooth and nail to save him while he was doing everything he could to get sicker. This was not happening.

She turned to his parents sitting in the chairs to the right of the hospital bed.

“What possessed you to let him play football?” Her voice was controlled and tight. She was done watching what she said around patients—professionalism wasn’t working so now she’d try a little real world. If they weren’t behind their son’s recovery, then she might as well throw up her hands and walk away … only she wasn’t a throw in the towel kind of person.

“He was feeling better. We were just throwing the ball around in the front yard, and then some of the neighborhood boys showed up. It turned into a game. Linc was doing fine until he took that hit.” Mr. Lafferty wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Someone tackled him?” Mrs. Lafferty’s voice was high and squeaky. She brought up her elbow and nailed him hard in the upper arm. “I go to the grocery store for one hour, and you have him playing football.”

Usually the hospital had a zero tolerance policy for violence, but Mr. Lafferty had it coming so Laney pretended that she hadn’t seen anything.

“He was feeling fine.” Mr. Lafferty rubbed his arm. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Mrs. Lafferty’s eyes turned the size of grapefruits and she reared back for another elbow. “Are you kidding me? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Laney stepped in. “Mr. Lafferty, may I see you in the hall … NOW.” She pointed to the open doorway.

Slowly, like a kid dragging his feet to the principal’s office, Mr. Lafferty made his way out in the hall.

“Do you know what that central line does?” Laney worked really hard on not wringing his neck. The calm, controlled demeanor under which she’d formerly operated, was completely gone now. Emotion made her so mad she could hardly see straight. “It’s where we give him his medicine, chemotherapy, and any liquids that may be necessary. These are the things that are fighting the cancer. If this central line doesn’t work, we have to install a new one. Because of his compromised health, we don’t have a lot of veins to choose from. I can’t treat him without a central line—do you know what that means?”

“I didn’t realize.” He chewed on his upper lip and fiddled with the dirty gimme baseball cap on his head.

“Without treatment, his chances of a recovery are very slim.” She didn’t want to come right on out and say that his child would die, but hopefully this man could read between the lines.

“Okay, okay. I’m beginning to see that football wasn’t such a good idea.” He took the cap off, smoothed his hair, and them replaced it.

Were men the champions of understatement? “It was a very bad idea. From now on, he needs to rest. I will determine when he’s recovered enough for contact sports. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Lafferty had the good sense to look embarrassed.

A strong, familiar hand pressed lightly at the small of her back. “Is everything okay?”

Devon was so close that she could feel his breath tickle her hair.

“You’re Devon Harding.” Mr. Lafferty seemed to have forgotten all about his sick child. “I’m a huge fan.”

She was getting the idea that Lafferty was a bit of an ass. Her sympathy for Mrs. Lafferty doubled.

Devon ignored Mr. Lafferty and pressed Laney closer to him. “Is everything okay?”

“It is now. I was just explaining to Mr. Lafferty that football isn’t a good choice for his son who is on chemotherapy.” Laney couldn’t help the reproach in her voice. At least she hadn’t resorted to calling the man names. Dumbass came to mind along with idiot and imbecile.

“Yes, I can see how that would be a bad idea.” Devon chewed on the inside of his cheek probably to keep from laughing.

“I can’t believe I’m standing here talking to you. You’re the best offensive tackle in the league. Think you could give my boy some tips?” Mr. Lafferty was dead serious.

Laney almost lost it.

Devon must have sensed her near–murderous intentions because he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her back a good foot from Lafferty. “Why don’t you go over to the computer and order something or type in your notes or whatever medical people do when sitting at computers? I’m going to have a little chat with your patient’s father.”

Laney glared at Lafferty but allowed Devon to lead her over to the nurse’s station. “I do need to order a sterile tray and a new catheter.”

She sat down behind the computer and logged into the medical program. She typed her notes and placed the orders. After some deep breathing to get her pulse and temper under control, she stood and walked back to room six.

She went directly to her patient. “Linc, we’re going to need to take out the old line and install a new one. I’m going to numb you up like before, but it may hurt.”

When dealing with patients, she always told them the truth. Kids knew when adults were lying, and once they detected a lie, their trust was gone.

“Okay.” He picked up another chocolate pudding cup. “I guess you have to.”

“Only if you want to get better. That’s our goal, right? To get better.” Laney turned to Michael who was still mopping up a tiny stream of blood. “Is it salvageable?”

Michael shook his head. “I don’t think so. The vein’s compromised.”

She shook her head. Not that she would take the advice of all of the nurses, but Michael was really good—one of the best she’d ever worked with.

“Can you grab me a sterile tray and new catheter? I’ve already noted it on his chart.” She grabbed a pair of gloves from the box by the door.

Michael waited for her to take over with the gauze and then he headed out of the room.

“Okay kiddo, let me look at the damage.” Gently, she pulled the gauze back and checked the line. It had stripped the vein. She needed to remove it and stitch up the hole. “Yep, you’re definitely getting a new line today.”

“I promise not to play football ever again.” Linc sounded completely forlorn.

“Let’s not be too hasty. I think you should play football and whatever sports you want, but not until after I give you the okay. I know that some days you don’t feel as sick as others, but you are sick. Your body is fighting hard to fix itself, and it needs all your strength and energy. I’m not saying you can’t ever play football. Just give it a little while.” Laney worked the line out and applied pressure to the bleeding wound.

Linc hadn’t even winced. She set the small tube down on the bed next to him and used both hands to apply pressure. “You need a couple of stitches.”

Michael rolled in a cart complete with the sterile tray and a new catheter wrapped in plastic.

“You want to stitch that up first and then move on?” Michael pulled a new pair of gloves out of the box by the door and slipped them on.

“You read my mind.” She dabbed at the open wound. “The bleeding has almost stopped. Hand me the—”

He placed the syringe of anesthetic in her hand before she even had time to finish her sentence. Michael was an exceptional nurse.

Laney injected the anesthetic near the wound, waited for it to take effect, and then made two tiny stitches in the skin closing the wound. Michael took the needle from her and handed her a sterile dressing. Michael would be a huge help in the operating room, but he preferred the emergency room.

Linc shifted. “You’re Devon Harding. Wow.”

Laney didn’t need to look over her left shoulder to know that Devon was in the room. He had a presence and people always recognized him.

“Keep still, I need to numb the new site, and then I’m going to insert the new catheter.” Laney scoped out a good vein and made a mark with a pen of where she would enter the vein. She swiped the area with antiseptic and injected the numbing agent.

Without turning around, she spoke to Devon. “Why don’t you explain to Linc, here how football isn’t the best choice of pass times when he’s on chemotherapy.”

“Well now …” Devon sounded unsure of himself. She’d forgotten, he didn’t like hospitals even though he spent a lot of time in them these days. “I think football is fine as long as he’s a spectator.”

“That hit you took last week against the Dolphins looked brutal. How’s your back?” Linc said between bites of chocolate pudding. This kid really loved his chocolate pudding.

“You have no idea. My back is black and blue.” Tentatively, Devon moved to the edge of the bed. “Maybe you and your family would like to come to practice tomorrow? I’d be happy to arrange it. I’m sure the guys would love to meet you.”

“Seriously?” Linc nodded. “That would be awesome.”

“Hold still.” Laney put a hand on his chest while Michael walked around the other side of the bed and pressed lightly on Linc’s shoulder.

Michael nodded to her that he was holding the patient in position. She popped in the line and taped it down. She got it in on the first try.

“Good job, Dr. Laney.” Michael nodded.

“Thanks.” She added tape to the edges and stepped back. “Can’t even feel it, can you?”

Linc looked down a little surprised to find a new IV port in his chest. “Nope, I didn’t ever realize you’d started.”

“That’s my girl. She’s the best.” Devon nodded.

“He’s your boyfriend?” Linc was very impressed.

Devon was more than her boyfriend, she was in love with him.

Chapter 21

All along Devon had known Laney was a doctor, but he’d never seen her in action until today. As he suited up for practice, he still couldn’t believe how she’d been able to perform minor surgery so effortlessly. She was amazing.

He wanted to do so much for her, but all she wanted from him was him. He smiled to himself. While that was pretty awesome, he wanted to show her how much he cared. But, she wasn’t into big, expensive gifts.

He needed to do something small, personal—something meaningful that would ease her heart. Lara’s dying was killing Laney, but she always kept her head held high even as her heart was breaking. It was hard for Devon to watch.

As he grabbed his helmet, Keshaun smacked him on the back. “Thank Laney for me. Krystal is fantastic. She doesn’t let me get away with anything, makes me open the door for her, and she eats steak. I’m in love.”

“That’s good.” He tucked his helmet under his arm. “One of her patients will be coming to practice tomorrow. Think you can sign some autographs?”

“Anything for Laney.” Keshaun grinned. “Maybe we could tailgate again at the hospital. I could rack up some nice points with Krystal.”

“Such a humanitarian.” Devon punched him in the shoulder.

“You know it.” Keshaun cocked his head to the right. “I’m one step away from being Mother Theresa.

“Wait up.” Clint caught up to them. He had his helmet hooked into the crook of his arm, and he carried a huge plastic box with a handle. “Summer made five dozen cinnamon rolls for Laney. She says that if Laney can eat them in less than thirty minutes, she can get in the Guinness Book of World records for the most cinnamon rolls eaten in one sitting.”

Judging by the incredible smell wafting up from the box, it was full of cinnamon rolls.

“Are those the ones she made last Christmas with the cream cheese icing and the little bits of orange zest?” Devon’s stomach sat back on its heels and begged like a dog for a treat.

“Yes.” Clint eyed him suspiciously. “But they’re for you to take to Laney.”

Devon and Keshaun exchanged a look.

Keshaun crossed his arms. “Think we can take this skinny–assed white boy?”

“With my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.” Devon nodded. “Hand over the cinnamon rolls, and no one gets hurt.”

“They’re for Laney. Summer made that very clear.” Clint took a step backward.

“It’s not like we’re going to eat them all. We might save a few for Laney.” Keshaun stopped in front of Clint. “I’d hate for you to suffer a career ending injury over some baked goods.”

Clint looked at Devon. “It’s come down to this … you taking food out of your girlfriend’s mouth. I knew you were self–centered, but this is a new low.”

Clint tried to say it with a straight face but he couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice.

“She’s not here and besides, I’m not taking all of them out of her mouth, just a dozen or so.” Devon took the box. “Crap, they’re still warm.”

“Fine, but y’all are going to be in trouble. I’m telling Summer.” Clint folded his arms against his chest. “She’s going to be pissed. See if she ever makes your favorite cheesecake brownies again for your birthday.”

As threats went, that one was downright mean.

“Why you gotta go and hurt my feelings?” Devon reached into the box and pulled out a cinnamon roll. Cream cheese icing oozed down the side. He bit into it and cinnamon–orangey goodness swirled around his tongue.

“Harding, are you eating before my practice?” Coach Robbins yelled from the locker room door.

Devon popped the rest into his mouth and said around the cinnamon roll. “No, coach.”

“You know the rules. No eating right before practice unless you want to clean your own puke off my field.” Coach Robbins headed toward them. “I smell cinnamon.”

“Must be air freshener.” Keshaun stepped between Coach and the cinnamon rolls. He popped a whole one in his mouth.

“Are those cinnamon rolls?” Coach Robbins was nobody’s fool. He grabbed the box. “Damn, there still hot.”

He took a deep drag of cinnamon. “It’s a crying shame that I’m going to have to confiscate these. No food in the locker room.”

“What? That’s not a rule.” Devon grabbed for the box, but Robbins turned away.

“Yep, it’s brand new. Just went into effect a half second ago.” Robbins took another hit of cinnamon. “I’m going to need more coffee to pair with these lovelies.”

“Damn, you’d think Grace kept you in baked goods so you wouldn’t need to steal other peoples.” Devon shook his head. He’d only gotten one and the chances of getting more were slim to none.

“There’s always room for cinnamon rolls.” Coach Robbins carted them out of the locker room.

“That was just mean. I’m going to have to call Grace and tell her that Coach is cheating on her coconut pie with Summer’s cinnamon rolls.” Devon shook his head. “How am I going to break it to Laney that she almost got to eat her bodyweight in cinnamon rolls. She’s going to be so disappointed.”