Deadly Medicine (20 page)

“Ward?
You’re
Dr. Thrasher?” Abby asked.

Ward pursed her lips and took a step back, even as Abby stepped closer. “Well, not if you say it like that!”

Now Abby laughed out loud, her eyes twinkled, and she stepped forward again, offering her hand in introduction. Her handshake, Ward noticed, was crippling, but her smile was gentle. “I’m Abby Rosen, the CEO.”

Ward shook with what she hoped was an impressive strength. “The CEO?”

“Yes. The CEO. Of the hospital.”

Ward shook her head and bit her bottom lip to control her laughter, but she couldn’t stop the smile. “Well, talk about a small world.”

Abby’s hand still held hers, gently now. “Yes,” she said softly. “I should have known. Not too many strangers show up for my mom’s party.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. Judi’s my mom.”

Ward nodded, amazed. “Smaller world, but nice. What a delightful surprise. I didn’t think I’d see you again.” And then Ward grew concerned. “Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Why else would the CEO be in the ER on a holiday weekend?

“No, I’m fine,” Abby said, but Ward detected a shift in her posture, as she seemed to grow taller and her eyes darkened to black.

Suddenly Ward grew alarmed. What
was
the CEO doing here? Preparing for some battle, no doubt, and it had to do with her. Which really sucked, considering how much she’d liked Abby and how much she’d thought about her before falling asleep, and then upon waking in the morning and in the shower. Before she’d left for work she’d actually made up her mind to find out who she was, so she could call her. Maybe explore the possibilities that had presented themselves in the explosion of color lighting the night sky.

Well, no need for that now.

“So, how can I help you?” she asked, assuming her own fight stance, standing tall, squaring her shoulders, picking up her chin.

“Shed some light on this bat problem. I had calls from a frantic camp director and another from a frantic nurse. I expect a board member will be next.”

Ward squinted at Abby, studying her, assessing the threat. Surprisingly, she saw none. Abby’s smile was warm, her stance softer.

Abby’s stance didn’t soften Ward. She couldn’t afford to let it. She’d been facing enemies of all sorts since that first day in the ER months earlier, and she knew such battles wouldn’t stop until she was back home, on her own turf. She wasn’t surprised Marsha Evans had pulled rank and called Abby. She could, and it was her job to take care of her campers. But for Frankie to turn too miffed her. The ER was supposed to be a team, and his call to the administrator amounted to treason.

Seeming to sense her angst, Abby grabbed her arm. Ward looked down to where Abby’s manicured thumb, painted a brilliant red, seemed to caress her arm. Their eyes met, and despite the situation, Ward’s belly flopped and a flood of heat surged lower into her abdomen. Wow.

“Relax,” Abby purred. “It’s okay. Everyone’s just panicking, and they called me. It’s my job to help out in a crisis, and I think twenty-one patients on the same bus fits the definition.”

Ward let out a breath. Abby wasn’t looking for a fight. Not yet anyway, the little voice in the back of her head said. While she didn’t have much experience with rabies, she’d gone toe-to-toe with administrators of all kinds, on many occasions. The encounters weren’t always pleasant.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Abby asked, with no hint of confrontation. Her grip eased, and her hand slipped from Ward’s forearm.

She missed the contact before it was even broken. Refocusing, she explained the situation, about the need to treat for rabies, conscious of the frustrations that seemed to be growing in spite of Abby’s professional demeanor. Why did she have to explain medicine to the administrator? What did Abby know about this, anyway? She tried hard to calm herself, trying to believe Abby really was there to help.

“And you’re sure about this?” Abby asked when she finished.

Ward’s jaw clenched, again, and she purposefully unclenched it before answering. “One-hundred-percent sure.” She didn’t mention that she’d double-checked the protocol for rabies exposure before issuing her orders. But should she? The CEO didn’t have the authority to question a medical decision, but Abby had to know this wasn’t a typical situation, and Ward supposed she had a right—even an obligation—to make sure the staff was doing things the correct way. Perhaps the information she’d learned would help ease Abby’s concerns. For some reason, that thought comforted her. She didn’t want Abby to worry, especially if she had the power to prevent it..

Putting her ego aside, she spoke again. “I double-checked the CDC protocols on my smart phone. All the kids need to be treated, and the counselor, too. It’s just too risky to ignore.”

The rewarding smile Abby offered made Ward feel ashamed that she’d hesitated. That news was all the ammunition Abby needed to stand beside her and fight. To stand in front of her, really. “Let me break the happy news to Miss Evans.” Abby winked.

Ward offered her a supportive pat on the back. “Good luck with that.”

Both of them turned and walked away, Abby to deal with Camp Shickshinny and Ward to deal with the citizens of rural Luzerne County. Before she made any progress, though, Frankie was in her face. She suppressed the urge to question his manhood and was immediately relieved she had.

“Okay, here’s the situation. We can’t find enough vaccine for these kids. There’s some sort of shortage. I called the Department of Health and they’re going to try to locate the doses for us, but they may not be able to. Worst-case scenario is we send them all home to Massachusetts and Ohio or wherever, and let the local ERs treat them. I called Abby Rosen, the CEO, to deal with the camp director, because this is going to be a nightmare.”

Filled with a mixture of relief and shame, she patted Frankie’s back. “Thank you, Frankie. Good job.”

He nodded. “Yeah, well, I have a feeling I won’t get a bite of lunch today, and probably not any dinner, either, but the good news is, I’m off at seven. Only nine more hours to go.

Ward glanced at the clock. Eight and a half, really. She could do this.

Hypoglycemia

An amazing calm descended on the ER in the early afternoon. All of the men, women, and children who’d been injured on sports equipment or contracted communicable diseases were miraculously cured as the day grew older, and Ward found herself sitting in the unfamiliar rolling desk chair in the physicians’ work station, catching up on charts. If she could sing just one praise of the hospital’s electronic medical-records system, it was the ability to cut and paste, a feature she used twenty-one times, allowing her to finish in record time the notes on the crew from Camp Shickshinny. When her replacement arrived half an hour early for the night shift, he bid her farewell, and she stood in stunned silence, wondering what to do with the remainder of her evening. A Saturday shift had never ended early before.

She made her way to the physicians’ lounge, grinning all the way, knowing she’d figure something out. A good book sounded delightful. Perhaps a burger, first. The memory of the juicy, fire-grilled delicacy from the night before was still making her mouth water. And as she walked into the deserted doctors’ retreat and eyed the large bathroom, another idea occurred to her. A shower. Blissful, comforting, hot, hot water.

Over the years, she’d been in some decrepit hospital call rooms, so dingy and dirty she hesitated to change her socks and step on the bare floors. Leftover food and linens had littered the floors and counters, and a collection of forgotten personal items collected dust. Some of the bathrooms had facilities where the water in the shower wasn’t even connected. In others only cold water came spraying from the showerhead, testing her inner strength. But the physicians’ lounge here was perfect—clean, well appointed, and with both hot and cold water working fine. A supply of full-sized towels was neatly stacked on a shelf, and she saw no evidence of fungus.

Throwing her used scrubs into the bin, she stepped into the shower and imagined the germs washing down the drain, felt the tension leaving the muscles of her shoulders and back, and finally, her mind. She emerged from the lounge ten minutes later, shiny and clean, her wet hair brushed by her fingers, and nearly collided with Abby.

They both laughed.

“What happened to the ER?” Abby asked. “I’ve never seen it empty before.”

Ward raised an eyebrow. “I believe you just jinxed them.”

“Good. As the CEO, I’d prefer it to be busy.”

Ward couldn’t help laughing. “Well, at least you’re honest,” she said as they began walking in the general direction of the parking garage and Ward’s house. “Usually, the administration pretends to commiserate with the staff but screws them anyway.”

Abby nodded. “We’re fighting the same war, but I have to fund it, too,” she said simply. “But lucky for you, it’s an early night. What do you plan to do with yourself?”

Ward was tempted to stop, to stare. Was Abby hinting at something? Or was that wishful thinking? And why was she skulking in the hallway beside the physicians’ lounge at seven o’clock on a Saturday night? Ward kept walking, wondering how to answer. “No plans, except food. I’m famished. Have you eaten?”

They’d reached the exit, and Abby held the door for her, and when she walked through, Abby stopped, finally looking at her, searching her face.

Ward stared back, waiting for an answer to her subtle invitation. Abby’s eyes held delight and invitation of their own, and they locked on Ward’s for a moment before she answered. “I haven’t. I was planning to get some work done, but food sounds much better. Would you like to join me?”

Panicked, a hundred thoughts flashed through Ward’s mind. Abby had replaced the business suit she’d worn for her battle with Marsha Evans with another T-shirt and golf shorts, which matched Ward’s attire perfectly. She didn’t need to worry about how she was dressed. But what did Abby like to eat? Who would drive? Was her car clean enough for company? And that Yankee Candle Christmas Cookie air freshener was still kind of strong—would it be too much for Abby? What are you thinking, she asked herself after a second. None of that mattered. A beautiful woman wanted to have dinner with her. They could eat candy worms in a smelly car and it would still be perfect.

“I was fantasizing about a burger,” Ward said, although suddenly she didn’t think she could eat.

“That’s some imagination you’ve got, Doc.”

Ward took the teasing in stride. “Long day. Four days, really. I don’t have any energy left for creativity.”

“Yes, I hear it’s been busy. I was away for a few days and just got back last night. Otherwise, I’d have been here to meet you and orient you. I’m sorry about that.”

“No worries. If I’d known who you were, I don’t think I’d have enjoyed the fireworks so much.”

“Really?”

“Well, yes. Fraternizing with the administration can be dangerous.”

“Should we cancel the burger?”

“No, this is eating. It’s much different.”

“So it’s settled then? We’ll eat?”

Ward met Abby’s eyes and saw the warmth there. “I’d love to.”

They agreed to walk, with Abby promising a guided tour through town en route to the best burger joint around. Not surprisingly, tables at the best burger joint in town were in demand on a Saturday night, and they sat on a bench overlooking the gardened terrace while they waited.

“How long have you lived here?” Ward asked when they’d settled on the hand-carved bench. The name of the craftsman, along with his phone number, was engraved in the headrest. Once again, Abby pulled her legs up under her and turned to face Ward as they talked. It reminded her of the fireworks, and she smiled.

“Basically, my whole life. I was born at the hospital, raised here, left for college and worked for a few years in Philly. When my predecessor keeled over and died at a board meeting, the hospital was scrambling for someone. I agreed to take over temporarily. That was eight years ago.”

“Your predecessor’s fate might have discouraged some.”

“I really needed the money.”

Ward smiled and Abby shook her head. “No, I’m serious. I’d just bought a Porsche, a cute little convertible, which I’d convinced myself and the bank I could afford. And then I had to make that payment every month, and…”

Ward squinted at her. “And the hospital trusts you with its budget?”

Abby nodded again. “Absolutely. If I could figure out how to buy a Porsche on my former salary and not starve to death, I’m surely a financial genius. I can do anything.”

Ward was silent as she studied Abby. She was beautiful with the sunshine bouncing off the golden highlights in her hair and reflecting off the smooth surface of her sunglasses. Her pose was relaxed and confident. Ward suspected she
could
do anything. Lost in her thoughts, she nearly missed Abby’s question. “How about you? Where’s home?”

Ward gave her the synopsis of her family and her career, carefully omitting the name Jessica from her tale. It wasn’t a lie, Ward thought. It just wasn’t relevant any more.

Abby’s name was called, and they were seated at a picnic table just a few feet away from the bench they’d been enjoying. After they took care of the business of studying menus and ordering food, they went back to talking.

“So what kind of work do you have to do on a Saturday night? Are you still trying to pay off that car?”

Abby squinted. “It’s all mine, finally. No more car payments.” Then she cleared her throat. “I actually came back hoping to run into you. So I could ask you out for dinner.”

Ward studied her for a moment. “Do I look that lonely?”

Tilting her head, Abby seemed to study Ward for a second, weighing her answer. “No. You look that cute.”

Ward thought back to the night before, when Abby had said that her date stood her up. Abby had just answered the question she’d asked her last night. Ward looked at her sitting there and tried to reconcile the conflicting images in her mind—the playful, flirtatious woman in shorts and a T-shirt with the hard-nosed executive wearing the business suit and heels. Abby seemed to be a delightful combination of tough and kind, serious and playful. And being with her felt good. Ward felt as good as she had in ages.